Are efforts to get boys reading more barking up the wrong dead tree?

As a relatively new father, I’ve suddenly become far more interested in the educational merit of the transition from dead-tree print to digital,  in addition to the implications for journalism and marketing.

So I paid a little bit of attention to the Oxford University Press launching a range of ‘computer-esque books to encourage boys to read‘. (link to BBC story).

Apparently the books have been tested in 2000 schools, and can be made interactive via CD-Roms (Are we back in 1995?) and whiteboards.

Two quotes in the BBC article got me thinking:

One from Charlie Higson (author of the Young Bond books):

‘”The point is that books are different to computers – that’s the whole point. If kids want to play with computers, they’ll play with computers, not read these stories.”

And one from Elaine Millard from the National Assocation of Teaching English

“What we have to do in schools is get that enthusiasm back for words on the page.” (emphasis mine)

Seems to me that Charlie makes a very good point for all print businesses – instead of bemoaning the fact that kids or adults are spending time on computers, perhaps we should either be making better print experiences, or better online experiences?

And I think that ties into the idea that we need to only have enthusiasm for words ‘on the page’.

Because, presumably, going into the school library and spending 40 minutes trying to find the right entry in an Encyclopedia bought the last time a school governor donated funds in the 1990s has more merit than searching Wikipedia, and it would be impossible to find literary merit in staring at a computer screen, or to combine something like a great computer game with some humour, intelligence and problem solving?

Coincidentally, whilst writing this, I spotted Dave Cushman linking to Dr Chris Thorpe‘s thoughts on both Dave’s book, and the power of print.

There’s an interesting change taking place – I still love reading books, and used Christmas as a chance to catch up on quite a few, and I can agree to an extent with Chris that reading print can have benefits (not getting distracted by links, or by other online services would be probably the main point which couldn’t be replicated online).

But what’s also interesting is that Cush’s book collects and organises thoughts which have appeared on his blog in a way that perhaps gives them more meaning due to the recurring themes – but the interactions that led Chris to read it is from meeting in person, and doubtless interactions via email and social networks.

Perhaps it’s not the actual content of great books which would have to change, but the ways in which we can help people discover them?

As an example, off the top of my head – people seem to have vastly different views on the idea of enjoying Shakespeare outside of academia, which seem to be driven by how they experienced it. For instance, I had some great English and History teachers who really put some life into Shakespeare – and also had parents who took me to see a handful of excellent Royal Shakespeare Company productions – some of which transposed Shakespeare with modern props and settings – Julius Ceasar stood in a transformed Kent sports centre next to a tank for example.

So rather than trying to corral kids into reading books by imitating things they’d rather be doing, perhaps we should be looking at how the things they’d rather do could be inspirational and interesting – could there be English and History scholars having conversations on Twitter, or could kids be siding with the Montagues and Capulets on a Facebook application?

After all, most of the books I read are by people I can contact via their blogs, emails and social networks and engage with to increase my understanding. Why should kids be denied the same opportunities?

The important thing is that we should be teaching children about the huge amount of ways they can find, enjoy, share, discuss, and interact with information in every format, and the benefits of each. And ensuring that we work with them to make sure what is produced is something engaging rather than patronising.

Why I wish I was my son…

Originally I was going to write a flippant post about how doing social media is a lot like having an 8-month old (long hours and sleepless nights worrying about how he/it is developing, and which are the best toys to be providing to enrich his/people’s lives).

That prompted me to consider how lucky he is to have been born now, even if it coincided with the family moving house, me changing jobs, and an economic collapse.

While I’m no economic expert, I’d guess that by the time he’s reading, writing and computing, the economy will have recovered in a changed fashion to what has existed until now – new business will have arrived, existing businesses will have changed, and the wikinomics of collaboration and social networking will be an accepted part of everyday life and business.

It’s amazing to consider the opportunities that brings compared to my own childhood, especially when I’ve only just reached my 30s. (I’m still adjusting to publicly admitting it!)

In some ways I was fortunate to have been given a head start on reading and writing by my parents, and to have always been encouraged to be a voracious reader  – to the point that my primary school ran out of English and Maths textbooks suitable for me before I left.

Yet although I got good results from secondary school based on that start, if I’m honest, I probably good have done a bit better – and thinking about it now, it’s because I’d already got the information I needed, and I was bored waiting around to try and use it.

I wanted to be involved in projects and collaboration, and not in the restrictive setting of a school science laboratory, but in a wider world to be able to tie it into the things I was most passionate about. That’s partly why I played guitar and bass in bands, despite not being the most musically talented.  And why I wanted to write and be creative.

But the biggest struggle was finding people to collaborate with – especially as two of the things I really wanted to do was to create a comic, and to make films – difficult for someone with no art or photographic skills.

Now it would be relatively easy to network with similar people – indeed, last year I was helping to run an online magazine, Disposable Media, which sadly seems to have stalled around the time I left.

And that’s why I’d love to be my son – the only major barrier to creating, collaborating and experimenting is time – which is harder to find as an employed father than as a school student. (Definitely not impossible, just harder). (How many dotcom successes under-30 benefited from being at universities with similar technically minded people, and having the time to play?)

He’s going to have time and opportunity to make use of a world which allows real-time collaboration across continents, and the infrastructure may finally allow speeds suitable to do far more than is even possible today.

After all, a nine-year-old has become the world’s youngest Microsoft Certified Professional, and a five-year-old can have his own company (via Communities Dominate Brands). And apparently it won’t be long before my son starts navigating websites etc for himself, from chatting with Chris Hambly on Twitter.

Actually, thinking about it now, perhaps it’s better to just let my son benefit, and then fund my early retirement.

LinkedIn got Twitterized!

Hello, Mr Plod!

Today I received an uninvited email from LinkedIn, and unlike most uninvited emails, it was actually useful. I generally regard LinkedIn as a internet-based protection racket – you get nothing for your money except avoiding a threat that wouldn’t be there without them. But today they may have turned themselves into the neighborhood “bobby” – alert and passing on information that keeps us ahead of the game.

LinkedIn got off its . . .

I have done some digging and it seems that I have received a weekly Digest Email on a Tuesday morning British Summer Time (GMT or near as damn-it). I will continue to get emails if anyone writes directly to me.

The weekly email is extra, and tells me whom of my contacts has updated their profile or asked a question. I am not sure if LinkedIn edits the list. I am not sure if they consolidate the information. Generally, updates are kept for 5 days and are limited to 15 entries. So possibly I will know what happens on every day except Tuesdays and Wednesdays (!) and if you happen to be in the top (?) bottom (?) 15 on the list!

I liked it though. It was nice to see at a glance who is doing what. It is nice to know whether I should take time to log in or not. It is nice to have a reminder that my profile should communicate to people (give some idea who should beat a path to my door). It was nice to have contacts’ questions and though I have a packed day, I thought I had specific expertise or contacts that might be useful and I fired off five pretty comprehensive answers.

So LinkedIn has put in a cheap service that

  • Saves me keystrokes
  • Acts as an alert
  • Reminds me of the game (communicate, don’t dump)
  • Lets me show off expertise and gain expertise by phrasing professional material in answer to different queries
  • Builds the community by reinforcing my own contacts and prompting me to introduce people to each other

This is a brilliant example of smart social media design.

  • Keep it quick
  • Keep my attention
  • Engage me in an interesting task
  • Help me learn
  • Welcome my interaction

And how is this related to 140 chars?

The email I received from LinkedIn is an email – nothing more. They could have sent it sooner.

I perceived it as more though. The email has a Twitter-like quality.

So what are the great attributes of Twitter?

Instant, easy, personal – yep those are the obvious surface features.

I also see INFRASTRUCTURE.

  • It is Just In Time.

We flick a light switch. We use it when we want and for how long we want. We pay for what we use.

And we don’t have to be too bothered. At Bucks08 Media Camp, we talked about social media being infrastructure. Twitter is definitely infrastructure. Proof? Look at how incensed we get when Twitter fails. It is supposed to be like lights and water!

By sending me an email, LinkedIn transformed itself from the equivalent of generator in my back garden that I have to fuel with diesel from a jerry can to the national grid. A light switch! Quick and easy to use. Ignored when I don’t want it.

I am redundant!

It’s a funny idea that I need to be redundant to get a good service. I suspect marketing guys get this all muddled up! It is a matter of “levels of analysis”. I might come-and-go, but the “flock” or the “crowd” must be there for the system to work, and as I come-and-go as me, marketers still need to talk to me and make me happy and to achieve the crowd effect.

The right metrics though are not “click-through”. The national grid doesn’t try to persuade us to flick our light switches on and off! I did not have to answer any of the questions on LinkedIn. What matters is that somebody answers them! We need to generate a handful of good replies. That is the metric of interest.

I could continue with the grid metaphor but a pub works better. I want someone friendly to be in the pub when I go in. I don’t want to have to be there if somewhere else is more exciting. A nd I don’t want to talk to the same people every time. The pub has to attract just the right number of people to make it likely a good friendly crowd will pitch up so that a good friendly crowd pitches up!

If I switch back to the grid metaphor, the national grid doesn’t care when I switch on and off. But if something happens which will change the pattern of switching one and off across the country, such as the minute’s silence before Princess Diana’s funeral, then the engineers have to quickly re-envision the service. They need to redistribute the load fast because the pattern of need has changed.

The metric we need is a system metric. Can the system respond rapidly to demand at many different points (all unknown in detail) with just the right amount of impact – not too much and not too little! .

It is public.

Well, LinkedIn isn’t. It still runs on the club model – ownership, exclusivity, 1.0. At the moment I have to manage my network. It is akin to keeping candles in every room in case the power goes off. Or akin to having a back-up generator complete with jerry can of diesel.

If the network was fully public, how would I receive questions I am interested in? I don’t know but I bet someone figures that out quite fast.

Ideas?

It allows division of labor.

Flicking on the light switch is easy. Using a wall socket takes a little more thought. Using the fusebox is more complicated but hey, in this apartment at least, you don’t have to re-wire the fuse (been there, done that!). There is some gradation in skill but we get to the point that being a consumer requires little skill.

There is some heavy duty engineering and finance behind the light switch, but as consumers, we don’t need to know much about it to play our part.

It is sophisticated.

The engineering and finance behind infrastructure is heavy-duty. A lot of people who know a lot of deep stuff have to work together and the system is no longer transparent to us, or necessarily to them. The credit crunch tells it all. We need some smart legislators to be able to see ahead and see what is necessary to keep us in the style to which we have become accustomed!

Social media for politicians! Who is seriously onto this issue?

So that is my offering for the first part of this week.

  • Through no action of mine, I am getting a useful email from LinkedIn.
  • One small, cheap action on their part, seems to me to be a giant leap from a platform in the cost-of-doing-business park to a far more attractive platform like Twitter.
  • And the transition helped me think through some of the key factors concerning social media as infrastructure (any more that I haven’t thought of?)

As managers of infrastructure, we will be

  • Just-in-time – seen and not heard – doing well when we are invisible and cheap to the consumer
  • Thinking about a system in which individual demand affects collective demand, and v.v.
  • Managing a system that has capacity points – sizes that allow demand, financing and technology to be in balance
  • In the public domain, therefore requiring political input and political output
  • Some sort of futuring because both our technology and our needs change

And all of this out of one email from LinkedIn?

Twitter sets a good example. It looks frivolous. Quite often turning on my lights is frivolous.

What else out there could learn from Twitter?

[Well this post could be 140chars for a start!]