Week 14: Extraordinary Claims...

This week’s reading: Borgmann, Part 3

I had planned to use this final post to address Kellner’s criticism of Borgmann, but I can’t bring myself to. I agree with Kellner on many points, but – now that I’ve read Borgmann’s final section – it feels much more important to engage with Borgmann directly. Briefly, I think Kellner errs in finding Borgmann’s argument theological, but Kellner is correct insofar as he critiques Borgmann for arguing from bias rather than fact.

Borgmann errs frequently and badly in describing the vistas of virtual reality. Where Borgmann is factually wrong – as in his critique of computer photorealism on page 198 – his attitudes reflect a pervasive and unjustified pessimism about the power of technology, and where he is factually correct he draws judgments about technological information that are not grounded in those facts. His treatment of virtual information strikes a strange poise between encyclopedic surface knowledge and deeper ignorance. Part 3 of “Holding On to Reality” reads like a nuanced and valuable discussion of the social context and aesthetic forms of the popular music of the latter half of the twentieth century, only to conclude with a cantankerous dismissal of kids these days and their rock and roll music. Consider, for example, Borgmann’s striking statement that the virtual ambiguity of MUDs “renders virtual reality trivial, and, when pressed for its promise of engagement, evaporates” (p. 190). This implicitly moral judgment is preceded by a careful objective examination of the information environment of MUDs, but not by any grounds for condemnation, and the same is true of Borgmann’s subsequent writing off of online relationships as mere “virtual vacuity” (p. 190). Similar argumentative structure is echoed throughout Part 3. Borgmann relies on intuition rather than evidence to make his broadest points, and while such bald assertions may be effective when preaching to the choir, they are less so when trying to convince an undecided audience such as myself. His proclamations about the loss of intelligence, thing, and context in the virtual environment, even if true, repeatedly made me wonder aloud, “So what?”

Borgmann does not get around to answering that big question – “so what?” – until his conclusion, where he starkly warns, “The preternaturally bright and controllable quality of cyberspace makes real things look poor and recalcitrant by comparison” (p. 216). This is precisely my own worry about information technology – the reason I have felt sympathetic to Borgmann throughout the reading. But his final bases for this assertion, like the dreariness of science fiction novels and the basic seductibility of human beings, are themselves not obvious and are certainly not grounded in Borgmann’s study. Indeed, in some areas, from art to war, virtual information sometimes seems to have given reality a heft that previous generations did not always have the chance to acknowledge. Reading the final pages of the book gave me the same sinking feeling one experiences when one’s favorite sports team commits basic errors of play, or when a normally eloquent advocate of one’s own political view stumbles badly in an important debate. If the central question of “Holding On to Reality” is whether it is worse to experience information virtually than to experience it through nature or culture, and the book represents the best argument that can be made in favor of the answer “Yes,” I can hardly blame society if it answers “No.”

With all that said, Borgmann succeeds in making me want to engage more with reality, even if he fails in convincing me to promote this engagement as a cultural rule. And some of his closing ideas, like his worry that the “sheer disorganized and imposing mass” (p. 230) of hyperinformation will guarantee its future loss, have profound resonance for information architects. In a world where people’s preferred way of engaging with information seems likely to remain irremediably virtual, information architects have the momentous task of preserving that imposing mass of virtual information in a usable form. If, because of the nature of the information or its environment, we aren’t able to situate that information in a reality beyond the virtual, I don’t think that makes us contemptible; our mission is merely to organize, present, and expedite. But if we are able – if we can encourage our users to relate deeply to the information they’re gathering – then we will certainly have done our society and our users a subtle service.

Week 6.2: Intuitive architecture

In this post I’d like to briefly engage with Jesse James Garrett’s ideas about empiricism in his 2002 essay “ia/recon.”

Garrett’s attitude towards IA research, especially in Parts 3, 4, and 6 of his essay, can fairly be characterized as dismissive. Garret emphasizes that information architecture is an art, and that its practice is heavily informed by intuition and “hunches” rather than user research of the kind described by Morville and Rosenfeld. He bemoans the necessity for information architects to justify their decisions to their superiors by means of usability studies, which he believes inhibits the discretion of the architect. Research, he says, should not be used “to tell us what to think.”

At first glance, Garrett’s attitude seemed very much at odds with the user-centric approach to IA advocated by Morville and Rosenfeld, and which I’ve invoked repeatedly in this blog. He also seemed to be waving off empiricism in general, which is a special interest of mine in IA and information science more broadly. On closer examination, however, this reading of Garrett misunderstands the core of his argument. He does not disown empiricism. In fact, he says that research “can be extremely useful in cases where user goals can be clearly identified and measured,” giving e-commerce and information retrieval as two examples. But almost all of the examples of IA we’ve studied in this course fall into these categories! No wonder the thrust of Morville and Rosenfeld’s work, with its special focus on e-business, is so different from that of Garrett, who seems to make the “user experience” – a subjective and difficult-to-measure criterion – central to his work.

Based especially on Garrett’s article in the DMI Review, I’m convinced Garrett is just as user-centric as I am. The difference is that I’m interested in metrics – did the user accomplish what he came to the site for? how long did it take? what menus were useful and useless? – while Garrett plumbs the strange and equally interesting depths of how to create emotional and sensory reactions to a website. Science is no more useful in Garrett’s pursuit than it is to an artist seeking to find a formula for how to paint pathos. His skepticism about empiricism is thus unsurprising and appropriate, and our points of view are compatible.

What’s perhaps most surprising about Garrett’s ideas is the notion that creating an emotional experience is the purview of an information architect, as opposed to a graphic designer or another engineer closer to the end user. I’ll keep an eye out for the aspects of IA that fall outside the proper domain of empiricism as the course continues!