Snow days! And, Technology!

Originally posted at www.21stcenturyscholar.org

Snow days are magical events, for students and teachers. The days preceding them burst with energy and anticipation. The magic starts with murmurs. One student says to another, “Did you hear it’s supposed to snow on Thursday?” As the snowstorm strengthens, students start rearranging plans and due dates. They think, “Let’s see. If we get a foot of snow on Thursday, that buys us at least four more days to write the essay about Hamlet.” Students are not alone. On Wednesday afternoon, teachers stare longingly out windows as the first flakes fall. “Is it too late” they wonder, “for the district to announce a two hour early dismissal?” They dream of a weekend without grading papers, a weekend with two days of guilt-free Netflix binge watching.

As someone who experienced snow days as a student and teacher, I can tell you: They are magical events.

Snowzilla, the massive blizzard that attacked the east coast, has reminded some of the opportunities of technology to attenuate the negative effects of missed school days. Last week, the author of an article in The Washington Post wrote, “[E]ducators have real concerns about the academic impact of the closures, which can slow progress and leave struggling students even further behind.” Technology to the rescue!

I love the prospect of technology to facilitate extended learning opportunities. In fact, I wrote about it six years ago when Snowmageddon rocked DC. I’m a bit like a broken drum in that way. We know the best learning experiences are engaging, relevant, and experiential. Technology has the ability to magnify learning both in and out of school.

Indeed, districts have implemented a number of tech-focused reforms to facilitate out-of-school learning for students, from preschool to high school. Some are stopgap solutions like online announcements and assignments in lieu of traditional seat time. Others are more integrated measures such as flipped classrooms. With the latter example, extended learning opportunities are not a response to inclement weather; they exemplify a philosophy that views learning as an ongoing and integrated event.

But, here’s the rub: Six years ago, when I campaigned for digitally connected snow days, the possibilities were still somewhat unfamiliar. Since then, technologies like iPhones and course websites have become commonplace. So too has the assumption that all students have access to technologies and the requisite literacies to access and use them. They don’t.

Technology is alluring. Over and over, policymakers have championed well-intentioned reforms that, once implemented, have had unintended, negative consequences. We cannot assume that all students have regular access to technology; students and families have the necessary skills to use technology; or, schools have the resources to maximize its potential.

Snow days are magical. Learning is magical. I’m still excited for the possibilities. Let’s make sure they are available to all students.

Doctoral training and innovation for qualitative researchers

One of the principal tasks of a research university is to train doctoral students to be able to design and conduct quality research studies. Optimally, training includes a mixture of theory and practice, coursework and experience. While a student marches to class to learn about research techniques, she also conducts research as part of major projects. For example, she learns about purposive sampling in class and practices it in the field. The idea is that both activities enrich each other. During my own experiences and those with students, the blended approach often leads to those important “Aha!” moments. It’s one thing to read about participant observation; it’s quite another to do it. And so, the interplay between theory and practice allows students to constantly refine and improve their skills and expertise.

Doctoral programs usually require students to obtain 15 credits related to research methods. Students enroll in a mixture of quantitative and qualitative courses, depending on their focus. An example of a qualitative-focused program of study may include a two-semester introductory strand along with a few courses that highlight specific approaches like ethnography or case study. It provides a nice overview of qualitative research and a more in-depth exploration of a few methodologies. But, is it enough?

In a new book, The Graduate School Mess, professor Leonard Cassuto argues that graduate schools need to do a better job preparing students for a variety of professional tracks. It’s a familiar—and often ignored—refrain. And yet, coupled with increasingly dire job prospects and a changing job market, it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. While tenure-track positions are decreasing, job opportunities with funders, policymakers, think tanks, school districts, and others are increasing.

How have schools of education responded? While both education and technology have undergone massive transformations over the last decade, doctoral programs have not maintained pace. They have relied on established and well-worn strategies without embracing new ideas.

Of course, there are exceptions. I know of a few programs that secure internships with state policymakers, school districts, or think tanks. I have many talented colleagues designing and implementing creative courses—and, perhaps unsurprisingly, students are often more enthusiastic about and engaged in those courses. And, I know of doctoral advisors who have modified their stances towards the processes and outcomes of graduate education. They provide students with new coursework and publishing opportunities and support alternative job placements. But, as Professor Cassuto highlights, admiring the innovations of a few exemplary programs and professors does not solve the over-arching problems that haunt graduate schools of education.

What’s one possible solution for qualitative researchers? My own work focuses on the uses of qualitative research for public policy. One of the biggest limitations when considering the topic is the degree of misunderstanding about what qualitative research is and what it can be for policy design. In order to improve the utility of qualitative research, some scholars try to make it more like quantitative research. Such an approach undermines the unique strengths of qualitative inquiry. For instance, thick description, a hallmark of ethnography, has the ability to illuminate policy issues in ways that quantitative research cannot. Think about the ability of photographs and videos to move people to action. Now, combine that with the creative possibilities of social media.

It’s more important than ever to focus on the foundations of qualitative research. Recent examples like Alice Goffman’s On the Run and the subsequent controversy it created illustrate the increased scrutiny qualitative scholars encounter when producing public scholarship. Doctoral students need to be able to understand and examine the underlying epistemological, methodological, and axiological assumptions of research. They also need quality research experiences. However, the current approach to doctoral training fails to embrace the future of qualitative inquiry.

A course that focuses on designing research for multiple audiences—e.g., laypeople, funders, policymakers—prepares students for jobs inside and outside academia. Understanding how to translate ethnographic findings into actionable policy solutions is an important skill, so is recognizing the potential of emergent technologies to present and distribute research. A course that highlights the multiple uses of qualitative research has the capacity to help researchers make their work more accessible for diverse audiences and to improve the marketability of graduates as they pursue alternative job tracks. It also has the ability to alter how individuals view the utility of qualitative inquiry.

Like all education reforms, challenges exist. Faculty members may not understand new technologies or may disagree with efforts to expand the reach of qualitative research. In order to gain competitive advantages, universities are trimming coursework requirements. Methods already get squeezed. The prospect of one more course may not be too palatable to some. And yet, the challenges are not insurmountable. In order to stay relevant, schools of education must adapt.

Using qualitative research to contest stereotypes

Originally posted at www.21stcenturyscholar.org

How are black men portrayed? After Freddie Gray’s death due to the brutality of six Baltimore police officers, newscasts focused on Gray’s criminal record and suspect behavior. When city residents protested, the media became more interested. Reporters searched for provocative stories and trolled for increased viewership. They showed dehumanizing videos of wild mobs looting and rioting.

Mainstream media ignored the peaceful protests of informed residents who understand the intricate factors that contribute to distressed neighborhoods in the city; a city where one out of four individuals live below the poverty line; a city where more than three out of four low-income households are headed by single women; and, a city where nearly one out of three children live below the poverty level. Of course, we know these figures underestimate poverty. Federal poverty lines are notoriously unrealistic. The qualifying amount for a one-person household is $11,770. The amount for a three-person household is $20,090.

I could go on. I could mention that, while most research indicates the multiple benefits of homeownership—from health to upward mobility—nearly eight out of ten low-income families rent, not own. I could talk about the failure to provide living wages, the lack of food security, the disproportionate number of dismal public schools, and a robust school-to-prison pipeline. I could criticize reports about exorbitant amounts of money spent on failed public policies to revitalize Baltimore neighborhoods, reports that imply residents somehow refuse to improve their economic standing despite the good deeds of politicians.

We know that healthy neighborhoods rely on five pillars—quality health, safety, education, employment, and institutions. One-dimensional reforms rarely account for interconnected factors that reproduce concentrated and generational poverty. They disregard a history of corrupt institutions and prejudiced politics, facts that have significant implications for policy implementation. When politicians do introduce comprehensive reforms—think of Promise Neighborhoods—they are woefully under-funded. When they fail, critics use them as evidence to quell future anti-poverty efforts.

Distorted media coverage has wide-ranging effects. It informs public discourse and policy discussions. It’s also divisive. How do reactions while watching the nightly news differ between a middle-class 50-year-old in Loveland, Colorado versus a low-income teenager in Baltimore? I imagine the two might have drastically different interpretations. No one likes to be misrepresented. In this case, news organizations misrepresent entire groups on a national stage.

So, what’s the function of qualitative research? Thoughtful research has the potential to contest negative stereotypes, to show why poverty is rarely a choice, to illustrate how living in poverty is not the same thing as being poor. Skilled ethnographers, for example, have the ability to present the complexities of local conditions and connect them to overarching social and economic conditions. Such insights are critical to creating more productive public dialogue and designing more just social policy.

Indiana, Duke, Yik Yak, and the purpose of education

Originally posted at www.21stcenturyscholar.org

The news has been full of lamentable examples of bigotry and discrimination.

The governor of Indiana signed the Religious Freedom Restoration Act, legislation that permits businesses to discriminate on the basis of religion—a restaurant, for instance, could refuse service to a gay couple. The politician posed the law as a moral argument; and yet, any logical person recognizes how wrong the legislation is. Either he didn’t think or care about the signals such a decision sends to a gay teenager who lives in a small town in Indiana and struggles with identity issues.

At Duke University—just before the men’s basketball team won its fifth national championship—a student hung a noose from a tree. A few weeks earlier, a group of white men shouted racist chants at a black woman as she walked on campus. The examples illustrate that universities are not safe or inclusive places for many students. Would you feel safe as a black woman walking home from class at Duke? 

Sadly, the bigoted and discriminatory acts are occurring on campuses across the country. Yik Yak, a social media platform, permits users within a particular geographic range to post anonymous “Yaks.” Think about a bathroom stall or dormitory bulletin board where anyone can write anything, even the most racist, sexist, and homophobic comments. Only Yik Yak knows the identities of users. Universities have requested the names and emails of offenders; the social media company—citing a privacy policy that guarantees complete anonymity, except for cases that involve the law—has not complied.

The inappropriate uses reveal where we are as a society. Some critics argue platforms like Yik Yak should not be permitted on campuses. I’m not sure censorship addresses the real issue. Bigotry and discrimination, however masked, are insidious. Sure, cyber bullying exists, but what happens in dorms and on campuses everyday. Have you heard the language of some students as they walk to class? Even if the social media platform didn't exist, people would still find venues and ways to express hate speech and commit violent acts, whether physical or symbolic. Duke illustrates that.

What’s the purpose of education? In No Citizen Left Behind, discussing the importance of civic education, Meira Levinson writes, “Part of the beauty of democracy, when it functions effectively and inclusively, is its ability to create aggregate wisdom and good judgment from individual citizens’ necessarily limited knowledge, skills, and viewpoints. To exclude citizens from this process is to diminish the wisdom that the collectivity may create” (p. 49). Examples like Indiana, Duke, and Yik Yak illustrate uncritical and intolerant responses to deeply rooted and complex issues. They are indictments of our current educational system and one-dimensional approaches to reform.

Standards, assessments, and school choice are important issues. We need to improve graduation rates and prepare students for college and career. But, we also have an obligation to nurture young men and women to be caring, healthy, and empowered citizens. That point is too often absent from public discourse. If we are serious about allaying intricate and enduring issues like intolerance and discrimination, policymakers have to widen the scope of educational reforms. Inclusivity is a precondition—not an accidental byproduct—of successful teaching and learning. Otherwise, instances like Indiana, Duke, and Yik Yak will continue.

Re-reading old posts

I was searching for some articles about Carol Stack's All Our Kin, and I found an old blog I published for www.21stcenturyscholar.org. I started re-reading some of the blogs I wrote during graduate school. As I progress from year to year, the topics become more and more focused on my current research interests. I thought it'd be fun to repost a few.

Social movements 2.0

Originally posted on November 11, 2011

Technology is changing the ways in which people communicate their thoughts and experience their surroundings. Augmented reality apps, for instance, add layers of information to places like museum exhibits and sporting events. Twitter connects individuals to trends. Social networking sites provide quick access to information about nearby places including parks and movie theaters.

In their new book Net Locality: Why Location Matters in a Networked World, Eric Gordon and Adriana de Souza e Silva explore the implications of location-based technologies and information. They write, “The street is no longer limited to the perceptual horizon of the person walking down it. A network of information that is accessible through a mobile device augments it. The provinciality of the small town, physically isolated from the rest of the world, is potentially cosmopolitan because of the integration of information into its streets” (p 3). In short, we are now living in a blended world of physical and digital realities.

In high school, my history teacher described globalization as a sweeping force. The economies of nation-states intertwined. Capitalistic forces subsumed entire political and cultural systems. And, McDonalds restaurants ended up in once-rural African villages. Sitting at my desk with a textbook that stopped at the fall of the Berlin Wall, I remember thinking that the globalization process seemed to contain equal parts mystery and magic. I couldn’t connect my small-town experiences with the reality of a globalizing world.

Technology and connectivity, however, have transformed everything. We live in a world where the relationship between local and global is changing. Need proof? Consider the rebellions in the Middle East or Occupy movements across the globe. Social media now makes social movements both possible and effective; control of information flows equates to social, cultural, and political power.

Net Locality is a timely book that reimagines the relationship between the physical and digital and highlights the promise and peril of location-based technology. Just think: The same technology that allows you to know your friend just checked-in at a nearby restaurant may facilitate a widespread social movement to end concentrated poverty.

Technology and the interstices of qualitative research and policy

This post was originally published February 22, 2011

Now is an exciting time to be a researcher. Technology and digital media allow quantitative and qualitative researchers to explore new territories. The internet allows qualitative researchers to interact with research subjects in new spaces as well as collect and present data in new ways. With new methods comes new data. But, is new always better? The answer is yes and no.

At one point, technology was going to save education. Millions of dollars spent on computers later, most acknowledge that technology is not a replacement for teachers; it’s a tool to help. The same point applies to research. Technology is another way to increase the rigor of research. It is also a way to persuade audiences and convey immediacy. I, for instance, can spend 15 minutes at an AERA symposium discussing a paper about a high school student living in poverty. Depending on my presentation, I may convince some people of something. Alternatively, I can show a 60 second clip  of that student’s neighborhood that was captured and narrated by him with a Flip cam. It’s not a stretch to believe that the video would be far more compelling and moving than my talk. That’s an application of qualitative research and technology that can also inform policy.

Qualitative researchers, for good reason, have not always pursued a life in public policy. Certainly, exceptions exist. But, if we take a wide view of the qualitative landscape we see a lot of activity in a lot of different directions. Much of it is creative, inspired, and progressive. It also has little currency in policy design. The reasons for this are legion, but since my space is limited, I will leave the explanation for another day. Needless to say, quasi-experimental methods have been the favored child of funders and other highly influential people; qualitative methods have been the ignored step-child. And, like most ignored children, qualitative methodologists have gotten used to doing things on their own.

What’s my point? First, I believe qualitative research has a central role in policy design. Qualitative and quantitative research are complimentary, not incompatible. Second, to qualitative researchers, use technology to fill the spaces between research and policy and to create joint spaces for quantitative and qualitative researchers. There are at least two directions qualitative researchers using technology will go. First, methodologists will disappear down a rabbit hole, exploring the limits of and deconstructing research and knowledge. This direction conforms with much of the avant-garde work that has already been done, which is interesting to some qualitative researchers and irrelevant to most policy-makers. Second, methodologists will use technology to make research more significant to policy design. This direction creates a new path for research and policy design; one that I hope becomes a reality sooner rather than later.

Twitter is the new haiku

I originally published this blog on August 26, 2009.

Poetry has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I do not come from a family of avid readers. If my father has read one book, that is one more than I would have guessed. He says The Executioner’s Song is his favorite, but I inherited his copy and, judging from its pristine condition, I think he saw the movie. My mom reads during one week a year, when she is on vacation at Ocean City, Maryland. She has gone to the same bookstore and the same rack for as long as I’ve been alive. She reads those lewd pulp fiction novels with strapping, shirtless muscle-bound heroes on the covers. She voraciously charges through the books, so much so that any observer would guess she’s a pro. I asked her once why she only reads when on vacation, since she clearly enjoys the activity; she just shrugged her shoulders. But, like a lot of parents, they believed in the importance of reading and bought me mounds of books.

My childhood hero was Shel Silverstein. I wanted to be like him. I wrote my first book of poetry in the second grade; although the quality has been downhill since then, I fear, I have continued to write. Now my heroes are mostly Irish: W.B. Yeats, Seamus Heaney, Paul Muldoon, and Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill.

Novels are nice, but I am impatient and have trouble sitting still. I appreciate the brevity, precision, and thoughtfulness present in a great poem. Every word matters. Haiku is a perfect example.

At the turn of the 19th century, the Imagists–Ezra Pound, in particular–were influenced by haiku and the economy of words to convey an image. They thought, “Why write a poem with 30 lines if you can do it in three?” The same logic has resurfaced recently in the form of micro-blogging, twitter being the most known example. Now, instead of 17 syllables, we get 140 characters or less.

Bashō, I think, would be great at tweeting. With its abstractness, Pound’s “In a Station of the Metro” just seems like an amazing tweet: “The apparition of these faces in the crowd; / Petals on a wet, black bough.”

The point I am trying to make–and I am trying to make a point–is that twitter is not simply the plaything of constantly plugged-in techies. Micro-blogging is not an untouchable, immutable concept. Twitter has value. Twitter has substance. Twitter can be relevant in learning settings. But we, educators and students, are the ones that have to imbue it with meaning.

Friends, lovers, and social media experimentation: The need for new ethical guidelines

I. Facebook doesn’t care about ethics, so why should you?

The internet nearly broke when researchers published a new study, “Experimental Evidence of Massive-scale Emotional Contagion through Social Networks.” Scientists, conducting a psychological experiment including approximately 700,000 Facebook users, manipulated news feeds to examine the effects of positive and negative posts. Researchers found that Facebook posts influence users’ moods; the general public and research community learned that Facebook does not care about ethics. 

To conduct research, scholars must obtain approval from Institutional Review Boards (IRBs). The Facebook researchers neither obtained permission from an IRB nor received informed consent from participants. Instead, they used Facebook’s Data Use Policy to justify their methods. Data use policies and end-user agreements, if you don’t know, are those wordy and complicated messages that pop up when users join and dismiss within a few scrolls and a click. Anticipating backlash, the editorial board of the journal justified their decision by highlighting the import of the study and the fact that Facebook is a private company. The explanations raise more questions than they answer.

As evidenced by a dizzying array of advertisements running along the side of your feed, Facebook is a money-making enterprise. Their motivations differ from research universities. Timothy Ryan thoughtfully notes that businesses frequently conduct market research and commercial experiments. It is not until individuals translate private findings into public scholarship that issues arise. And, that is the major issue: Why is any group, regardless of industry, allowed to conduct unregulated experiments that may harm human subjects? 

II. Move over Facebook, OKCupid loves unethical experiments too

OKCupid, a popular matchmaking website, didn’t take long to provide a more egregious example of unethical practices. Less than a month after the Facebook controversy, they released findings from three studies. The most deceptive experiment included the company manipulating compatibility scores—in some cases, changing them from 30 to 90 percent—to monitor effects on interactions between matches. They emailed unknowing users the correct scores after the experiment. Like Facebook, OKCupid cited their user agreement as justification.

Unlike Facebook’s experiment, OKCupid’s studies present dubious scientific value and perverse underlying assumptions. Facebook published their findings in a peer-reviewed journal. While the experiment undoubtedly helps the social media company, it also contributes to a body of scientific knowledge. The researchers did not obtain informed consent; however, they could plausibly argue that study benefits outweighed participants’ risks. There was a hint of beneficence. Capitalizing on the recent debate about the other experiment, OKCupid posted findings on OKTrends, their own quirky and entertaining marketing blog and used the attention to advertise an upcoming book. 

Christian Rudder, OKCupid’s president and co-founder, published an unapologetic blog about the experiments. He justified the research, stating “We noticed recently that people didn’t like it when Facebook ‘experimented’ with their news feed. Even the FTC is getting involved. But guess what, everybody: if you use the Internet, you’re the subject of hundreds of experiments at any given time, on every site. That’s how websites work.” Rudder does not address ethics or informed consent. He invokes a coder’s ethos where curiosity, experimentation, and trial and error are key ingredients. He ignores a key fact: Data are people too, and tinkering with code could cause harm. He even belittles internet users, implying they are foolish to expect trustworthiness and transparency from companies. 

Let’s think about Rudder’s point and extend it to a more accessible example. We all know that companies conduct market research. When I shop at a popular big box store, I understand that they gather data based on my shopping habits. They track my movements in the store and the impact of a new Transformers endcap on my purchasing habits. I also assume that what I see is what I get, that the store is not willfully deceiving me, and that any data they collect will be anonymous, unless I provide informed consent. When I take my Cheez-Its to the checkout counter, I expect to pay the advertised price for a box of delicious cheesy crackers. According to Rudder’s reasoning, the store has the right to change the contents of the box and the consumer is naive for expecting otherwise. 

Now, let’s think about social media correlates. Most of us know that websites monitor our browsing habits. During my wife’s pregnancy, we spent nine months searching for baby gear. I’m not surprised when I see Babies R Us ads splattered across my Facebook page; I get that. There are trade-offs on social media. If I sign up for a dating website like Match.com (which, incidentally, is how I met my wife), I expect that the premise and underlying framework are trustworthy. I take a quiz. Someone else takes a quiz. Then, the website uses a well-tested algorithm to match us. Based on the OKCupid scenario, I’m foolish. At any moment, I could find out that my wife doesn’t share the same political views as me; she doesn’t like watching football; and, she doesn’t care about my level of education. 

Rudder’s comments are shockingly tone deaf given the current milieu regarding social media ethics and best practices. His lack of remorse or awareness—coupled with his book promotion—add a level of creepiness. OKCupid’s experiments seem an equal measure of loose ethics and slimy publicity. Unfortunately for Rudder, even though he dismisses critics, the FTC may be getting involved with OKCupid too.

III. Analog Ethics in a Digital World

The 20th century provides numerous examples of misguided research that placed individuals at risk, from the Tuskegee syphilis experiment to Stanford Prison Experiment. In the United States, the National Research Act of 1974, which created the first national committee to establish ethics policy, was an important step towards protecting human subjects and limiting the potential for malfeasance. But, there’s more work to be done.

As we enter the 21st century, emerging technologies and digital spaces provide new opportunities for abuses of power. I have read a few commentators argue that people have a choice. Stay off social media or get informed, they say. That’s a naïve and unrealistic perspective. Facebook and YouTube both amass over a billion users per month. Social media has become a significant part of our lives. Others argue that all social media companies experiment. Social scientists don’t understand and they shouldn’t stifle a new golden age for knowledge creation. The arguments echo previous examples when a few power drunk individuals made unsound decisions that influenced many.

As social media companies accumulate more power and influence, we should demand increased ethical responsibility and accountability. They cannot reasonably expect users to waive all personal rights through some end-user agreement sleight of hand.

The Facebook and OKCupid studies are important not just because of what occurred but also because of what they portend. Before we have truly lamentable examples of user and data abuse, policymakers need to commission a new set of ethical principles that meet the needs of the 21st century.

Why scholars should use big and little data to study complex issues

Last week, I read an article in the Chronicle about the growth of data-related graduate programs. Big data are big, both in scope and popularity. Large datasets require data analysts with specialized skills. As a result, universities are creating more and more graduate programs to address market demand.

As colleges adjust to shrinking budgets and dwindling enrollments, data-centric programs serve as an exception to the new higher education normal. Schools are receiving an abundance of applications from energetic, highly qualified individuals. And—imagine this—graduates are getting jobs.

Like many tech nerds, I am excited about the potential applications of big data. But, these types of articles—and the underlying assumption that all data equal numbers—also cause me pause. I worry about a balance of perspectives and skillsets. When is the last time you read an article about soaring enrollments in the humanities or saw a headline like “Critical Thinkers Untangle the Most Knotty Social Issues”? Of course, some of my colleagues will take issue with the above statement. Look at design thinking, they may argue. Projects require individuals with diverse backgrounds. Project managers place a premium on critical thinking skills. Unfortunately, such movements, particularly in education, are relatively nascent and minute.

Not all data are equal. But, they are all important (and often complimentary). The Obama campaign used big data to forecast results and target resources. They also used call centers to interview undecided voters and assess their preferences. A big box store like Wal-Mart uses big data to analyze millions of customer transactions. Observational data of in-store traffic patterns provide different—and also valuable—insights. Both examples illustrate the value of multiple data sources. 

I imagine other industries and disciplines are much better at balance than education. We have a gold standard. Quantitative data, along with experimental and quasi-experimental designs, rule. Such a love affair does not always permit scholars to creatively analyze the most difficult social issues. For example, check out Caroline Hoxby’s unproductive response to Michael Bastedo’s critique of undermatching studies. 

Until we recognize the value of all data, we handicap our ability to design effective studies and develop productive reforms.

Twitter as the public sphere or a daytime talk show?

Is Twitter a new version of the public sphere? That is the question I posed last week.

Let me revisit the three basic criteria for the public sphere:

•     First, participants treat others as equal;  
•     Second, participants agree to discuss and question issues related to the common good;
•     And third, everyone participates.

Considering the criteria, how are academics actually using Twitter?

I follow hundreds of professors from around the country. The users I most appreciate are the ones who post new articles and blogs as well as mention events and conferences. The social media provides a great venue to link content. It also changes the pace of academia. No longer do we have to wait days for feedback or years for articles to go through the publication process.

Twitter also presents opportunities to connect and converse with academics across the country. These exchanges most closely resemble Twitter as a public sphere even if they do not fulfill all of the criteria.

But, sometimes the tweeting habits of individuals, including professors and teachers, assume less professional tones. I have read long, heated, and scandalous exchanges of 140 characters or less between esteemed professors. A few weeks ago, during an organized conversation when participants all used the same hashtag, I viewed an academic conversation about school choice degenerate to a personal attack about the professional associations of one of the well-known participants. These are not only issues of etiquette but also the ultimate goals of social media use as they pertain to education. 

Current uses of Twitter do not seem to indicate it is an emerging public sphere. So, after two blogs, what is the point? 

Academia is changing and so is technology. My goal is not to tell you how to use social media. At one level, because the line between the personal and professional is blurred, I think we could all benefit from a few more conversations about standards and practices. At another level, from fomenting revolutions in Egypt to spreading the latest Internet memes, the value of Twitter to discuss and diffuse ideas is clear. I wonder if using the social media to take potshots at colleagues is a missed opportunity to spread innovative ideas and genuinely improve education.