Why the Internet Makes Brainstorming Great

When I was in 2nd grade, my class took a field trip to a rural garbage treatment plant. While on the tour, we were told that the smokestacks of the plant were equipped with an electric grid of some kind that essentially knocked the more harmful particulate matter out of the smoke, resulting in a cleaner exhaust from burning garbage. (How accurate this statement was, I never did find out.) But in my 2nd-grade brain, I hatched an idea: If an electric grid could make exhaust from burning garbage clean(er), why not build a smaller version of that technology on the tailpipes of cars, thereby reducing the pollutants in their exhaust. I mentioned this to my teacher, who suggested I write a letter to an automotive company asking them this same question. I don't think I ever did write that letter. But cut me some slack; I was in 2nd grade.

This idea I had in 2nd grade possibly could never go anywhere. Did the technology the tour guide described at the plant really work the way he described it to us? Would such a thing work on a car? Could it be cheaply replicated on a miniature scale? I have no idea. And because I did not go into mechanical engineering, nor did I amass a large amount of money that I can use to fund random research projects, I am not really in a position to contribute to this idea. Also, even if I had written that letter as a 2nd-grader, chances are it would have never made it to the desk of someone in a position to investigate it.

But the really great thing about living in an age of global communication is that all the current 2nd-grade-children in the world can throw these ideas out in a public forum, where they could be seen by any Net-connected person in the world. Suppose I had been able to post my idea online in 2nd grade. Maybe it would have been picked up by someone searching for information about reducing auto pollution and who, unlike a small boy in rural Wisconsin, would be in a position to either directly investigate such a possibility or to pass it on to some engineer. Or maybe the electric-grid-on-tailpipes idea really is not feasible, but to the right person it contains the spark of an idea that could result in a useful new technology. This simple question from a person not in a position to carry it any further might be a catalyst for something worthwhile.

The Internet makes brainstorming great. Don't get me wrong: brainstorming is always great, but the Internet makes it transformative on a much larger level. Brainstorming is how we approach any problem--from "How do we feed the world" to "What should the monster look like in my horror story"--and a good brainstorming session is the first step to coming up with solutions. Not every idea in a brainstorming session is useful, but gather enough ideas and some of them are bound to be good. So just imagine the possibility of billions of people brainstorming ideas to address social problems, new technology, or even new art forms. Lots of bad ideas will get created, but more than a few good ideas are bound to come out in the process.

So what kinds of things might make Internet brainstorming useful? I have a few ideas:

1. People should write often about their skills, interests, and dilemmas. They should write constructively, but also they should not be afraid to pose questions or toss out crazy ideas. Doing this in some kind of publicly accessible forum (like a blog that can be retrieved in Web searches) boosts the possibility that an idea will drift across the right person's screen. More to the point, people should contribute to the global discussion on issues in which they have either particular knowledge or particular interest.

2. People working on a solution to a given problem should--with some regularity--do Web searches that might put them in touch with the brainstorming blog posts. Over time, people will innately standardize their language so that such posts get picked up more easily. Working on research for neural mapping? Why not do the occasional Web search for "neural mapping" and "brainstorm"? Over time, people might start seeing the terms appear together more often and start using them to get noticed. Granted, this is setting the incautious researcher up for a lot of Web results that lead nowhere. But researchers are good at finding needed information, and over time they can figure out more efficient ways to spot good ideas.

3. Websites that serve as idea banks could make Web brainstorming a new social networking phenomenon. Suppose someone created a wiki-style idea bank for automotive technology. It could have categories for different topics (Alternate fuel sources, Efficient engine design, Automated cars), and users could contribute their ideas. The site's operator could vet ideas to catch the inevitable spam and troll-ish comments.

In fact, I think the "Web idea banks" idea is great. I wonder whether anyone has thought of it....

The Worldview Shopper App

I've been thinking lately about ways that computers can help make us think better. This idea is appealing to me in part because it seems so scary to some people. The idea of having computers think for us is fodder for countless science-fiction stories, but why not have computers leverage their computational skills to do some things for us? I mean, I've yet to meet the person who fears using a calculator because a computer cannot be trusted with the precious mental activity of arithmetic.

One idea that came to be is for a program that uses recommendation systems to help us make more informed and socially responsible purchasing decisions. I started with a phrase I first heard working at Whole Foods--"You vote with your dollars"--which I have taken to heart. Every time I choose to buy Product X, I am endorsing that product and, implicitly, the model with which it is made. At the same time, every time I do not buy Product Y, I am rejecting that product and its means of production, even if I am not consciously boycotting it. For example, say I buy a pound of coffee that comes from a large corporation, is chemically treated for flavoring, is grown on former rainforest land that was clear-cut, and is prepared by workers who are paid less than a living wage. I am supporting this model, even if I am intellectually sympathetic to a rival system, like a fair-trade, organic coffee grown in small cooperatives.

I might buy (and not-buy) against my conscience for lots of reasons. Maybe I don't know about the practices of the companies involved. Maybe I don't have enough money to buy everything from companies that support my worldview. Maybe I've heard that just buying organic isn't enough and I should also consider the relative value of a local product with fewer standards in place. Too much confusing information makes it hard for me to make any kind of informed choice, and easy to just go with what is cheapest or most readily available. And I know that, in the process, I am propping up the kinds of business models I disagree with, but I don't have the ability to process all these details to shop smarter.

However, who does have the ability to process all those things? My computer. So here's my idea for a "worldview shopper" app:

When I first sign in to this app, I fill out my profile. It includes information like where I live, how much I am willing to spend each month on different types of goods (food staples, beverages, toiletries, transportation, etc.). Then it gives me a questionnaire to determine my social view. The questionnaire might include things like "I think small, worker-owned businesses are better than large corporations," or "Buying local products is more important than buying organic products," and I can agree or disagree. All of these choices are things I can go back and revise at will.

Then the program collates this information and gathers recommendations on products I should buy to support my worldview. It can do this because the participating companies have tagged their products according to a set of business models, and those tags have been verified by an external agency. The program shows me which products support my ideals in a ranked order, so I can see what will be the most effective item to purchase. It even includes a pseudo-shopping cart, where I can plan out, say, my grocery shopping so I know I am not overspending in the store. And I can sort items by price as well as fidelity to my worldview. I can buy the one good that is 100% in line with my beliefs, even if it costs more, and save money on something that is 80% in line with my beliefs but is on sale.

My worldview shopper app does not force me to buy one thing or another, it just helps me make sense of a bunch of information I would probably never bother to learn on my own, but that if I did know, I would clearly use. And it could evaluate many different factors (organic vs. conventional prep, how the company treats its employees, maybe even which political or social groups the company donates money to), and show how close the aggregate of these details is to my beliefs. If Netflix can tell that I like horror movies with a strong female lead (and I do!), then my social shopper app could also show how my spending can support companies that promote diversity in the workplace.

Postscript: It is entirely possible that someone has already built an app along these lines and I have just not seen it yet. I originally called this my "social shopper" app, but I see that term is already in use for apps that make shopping easier in the age of social networking. I did not want to cause confusion.

Scare a Driver, Save a Life?

Yesterday I was riding my bicycle on the near West side of Madison, which required sharing the road with motorists in a few places. Madison has an excellent bike path that crosses the city (and links up with an interstate bike trail), and it has bike lanes on a few streets, but in other places I have to share the road with cars. This latter scenario always makes me nervous, but yesterday I was noticing how much it seemed to make drivers nervous, too. Even though I was staying in lanes, signaling before changing lanes, and otherwise behaving in a predictable and legal manner, it seemed like just my presence on the road was enough to make drivers slow down and behave more carefully. And that was when I realized what a great thing it is to scare drivers.

Here's the thing: Normally I am afraid to share the road with drivers because I anticipate that they will be reckless, will drive too fast, will not pay attention to me, and will possibly hit me. And all of those things do sometimes happen to bicyclists. (And, in defense of drivers, I have seen almost as many reckless bicyclists as I have reckless motorists.) But it seems like more often, drivers actually drive slower and are more aware when they see bicyclists in lane. A few times I have had drivers try to zip around me, but as long as I stay in a lane like a vehicle--which, on the street, I am--most drivers seem to treat me like a slow-moving and more easily breakable vehicle. They drive respectfully, and we all get where we're going in a reasonable time.

This is an all-around public good. My fears of being hit by a reckless driver depend in part on my perception of the roads as a place drivers will not share with cyclists. But I also realize that such an unsafe environment is supported partly by a shortage of cyclists using the roads. If drivers seldom encounter cyclists on the road, they will have less experience with them and will treat them more like an intrusion into their space. On the other hand, if drivers frequently see cyclists, they will have to adjust their driving accordingly. This means they will drive slower and pay closer attention to their surroundings, which will in turn make the cyclists safer, and that will make it easier for more cyclists to use the road system.

But this does not only benefit cyclists. Most traffic accidents are the result of drivers going too fast or paying too little attention. Pedestrians in crosswalks are also at risk when drivers behave badly, but so too are the drivers and their passengers. Inside a car it is easy to feel isolated from the rest of the street, but that sense of isolation is what leads to bad driving and accidents. If seeing a bicycle on the road makes the driver nervous and he accordingly pays closer attention and drives at a responsibly speed, he will be protecting himself and his passengers as much as the cyclist.

And, in an era of massive budget cuts to public programs, communities should really support seeing more cyclists take on this role. If a cyclist on the street can have the effect of getting drivers to slow down and pay attention, then the cyclist is fulfilling a role similar to speed monitoring signs, or police officers in speed traps. But the cyclist does not cost the taxpayer anything. It's almost like a community speedwatch. (Which also exists, and is something I wish more neighborhoods would use.)

So the next time you see a cyclist on the road and he makes you slow down, be thankful that he is out there keeping you safe.

Archives: Research Assistants

Sometimes I manage to pick up extra money at my archive by hiring out as a research assistant for patrons. This is a task I jump at whenever I can because it gives me a chance to set my own rate, which is always much higher than I make as a public employee. I find that I can charge $25 an hour and most patrons hardly bat an eye. After all, anyone serious enough about a research project to pursue professional assistance probably recognizes that paying someone a few hundred dollars is a better deal than, say, buying a plane ticket to fly out to Madison, renting a hotel room for a few nights, and paying for food and drinks when not in the archive.

But the monetary advantage aside, I also enjoy research assistance because it gives me a chance to interact with the public. Most of my work involves cataloging new collections, which certainly affects the public because it creates finding aids to help people navigate to our collections. But I seldom get feedback on how helpful the finding aids are, what kinds of projects are bringing people to our collections, or what sort of information is needed but missing from the finding aids. These are all topics I can engage by actually getting in touch with people. 

So what kind of work do I do as a research assistant? Usually a lot of reading, searching, and photocopying. A patron might ask whether we have images in a film's production stills file that relate to the topic of her paper, or whether we have studio correspondence on censorship efforts related to a given movie. These are topics that our finding aids cannot really answer because they are arranged at the folder level. So the finding aid might say we have three folders of studio correspondence about a certain film, but not what the content of each letter is. And ordinarily, a patron would come in and look through the folders herself, find any letters of interest, and make photocopies. But if she cannot come for some reason, she can hire me, tell me what to look for, and let me do the searching and copying.

This is a relationship I want to encourage all around. Archivists, consider taking on research assistant positions whenever possible. Especially if you do not work directly with the public, in which case you can gain valuable reference time. Check with your institution's reference team to see whether they maintain a list of research assistants. This will look good on your resume, boost your profile at your institution, and maybe even get you a recommendation on LinkedIn. And researchers, consider hiring archivists as research assistants. If you are debating a trip to an institution, it might be a more cost-effective option to hire someone to do the legwork. And you will help that research assistant (who is probably an upcoming archivist) gain some valuable experience. Everyone wins.

Podcast Review: HPPodcraft.com

Some podcasts come and go from my normal listening rotation, but one has stayed among my favorites for more than a year now. That is HPPodcraft.com. For those not familiar with it, this is a weekly podcast devoted to the writings of weird fiction author H. P. Lovecraft. Most episodes are detailed plot summaries for each story, punctuated by a combination of excerpt readings, host banter, and interviews with special guests, typically Lovecraft scholars or members of the ever-growing creative community that translates Lovecraft's work to other media.

The two hosts - Chris Lackey and Chad Fifer - share a passion for all things Lovecraftian. They are clearly well-read not only in the official Lovecraft canon, but also in such useful ancillary writings as Lovecraft's correspondence and S. T. Joshi's critical essays. Their podcast accomplishes something noteworthy in that it is great for both new and veteran Lovecraft fans. Their summaries of his stories give a good sense of what all his writings are about (while sparing the more wary listeners from having to read, say, "Medusa's Coil" on their own). But also, the more experienced Lovecraft fan can find many interesting details about the publication histories of his stories, his literary influences, and different adaptations of his works.

Sometimes, they also commission a reading of a particular story, and these episodes are absolute must-listens. The production values are always top-notch, the readers are excellent, and the use of stereo sound in the music and effects virtually demands listening to them via earbuds, preferably alone and in the dark. These readings are usually tied to fundraising drives for the podcast, and they might be one of the best rewards anyone can ask for donating to a podcast. Three stories have been read so far ("The Haunter in the Dark," "From Beyond," and "The Picture in the House" - one of my favorites), and two more are currently in the works.

I cannot possibly recommend their podcast highly enough. As a pulp lit nerd, I dream about emulating this model for other writers (a "Robert E. Howardcast," maybe?). However, it would take serious talent for anyone to develop as good a product as HPPodcraft.

Part-time Work and Me

When I think about my future, I now see myself working a range of LTE jobs and contract positions. This is a situation many of my peers in the LIS field probably are also seeing, and it has its benefits and drawbacks. When we were in school, our professors often talked about the increasing possibility of a career made up of freelance work, but still they built up the expectation of finding regular work. And I certainly know several people who have found full-time jobs. But the less I worry about finding that full-time job, the more I feel like I can pursue and enjoy where I am now. But I digress. The pros and cons:

I like the prospect of working a range of jobs because I think I prefer some variety and uncertainty in life. The thought of a long-term job does sometimes make me nervous; any time I make a major decision I am prone to worry that I made the wrong choice. Also, I have a broad range of interests, so the idea of being able to work on projects that strike my fancy is appealing. Not that every contract job I get will be something I love, but I feel like I have more flexibility to pursue things I like, whether in archival work or in writing. And, to be fair, I am pretty capricious, so it is hard for me to focus on one project for a length of time. Knowing how easy it is for me to flit from one project to another has even helped me in jobs that have a longer term; I tend to keep several smaller projects running at once, so I can jump between them.

At the same time, uncertainty can be pretty frightening. I am fortunate in that my wife has a full-time job, which gives me the comfort to pursue jobs that offer no benefits, while still enjoying health care through her work. On the other hand, I feel guilty sometimes in that I depend on her for those benefits. What if she wanted to work contract jobs, too? Also, the learning curve for contract work can be a lot higher than for more steady work. I have a contract position right now, and sometimes not having something like an HR department to guide me through writing contracts and interacting with employers can be daunting. I am having to learn those things on my own, with mixed success. And I am not generally an assertive person, so self-advocacy is hard for me.

Having said all that, I am less worried about my job options now than I was at the end of grad school. Maybe I am recognizing that a lot of my friends are also in the world of multiple part-time or contracted positions. Or maybe I've come to find the good in such positions. But these days it seems more exciting than I would have thought before. I wish I lived in a country where I had an affordable health care option, thereby removing one of my biggest anxieties about freelance work. Still, I find myself more able to envision a career future that resembles my present.

Baby Motivation?

Soon, I will have a child. And sometimes I think that I am supposed to be more nervous about this fact than I actually am. Like, socially, I should worry about how a child is going to eat up all of my time and I will not get to do the things I want, or a child will consume all of my personality and I will communicate only in comments about theoretically cute things my child did. And, to be fair, these are probable outcomes for at least the first few months. But when I give the subject any thought, I actually feel like having a child might be an interesting test of my various interests.

First, if taking care of a baby eats up a lot of my time--and as I understand it, it will--I will have to use more discrimination in picking what I do with my spare time. Already, I try to restrict my spare time to specific activities I enjoy: playing a video game, reading a book, working on a story. I am not one to passively watch TV. But it is easy for me to pick the activity that requires the least energy. The mindless task is usually the winner. My hope, however--and this sounds like bodes poorly for my parenting skills--is that many of the daily childcare tasks will be my mindless tasks, and when I have to choose my hobbies more carefully to fit into my spare moments, I will pick the hobbies with the greater stimulation. No offense to video games, but they do tend to soak up a lot of down time because they require less mental energy than, say, writing a finding aid at the archive. On the other hand, changing a diaper is pretty much a rote, repetitive task: like a creepy, gross video game no one wants to play. As long as I have to play it, though, I can make it my mindless thing and save my mind for writing.

Also, a baby makes for a great captive audience. In our family plan, I will be staying home with the baby-in-question two days a week (two more days go to my mother-in-law, and one day to my wife). So for two days a week, I will be taking care of a perfect little captive audience for me to bounce story ideas off. Can the baby provide me with useful feedback? No, I doubt it. But half the point of bouncing ideas off a friend is just to hear your idea out loud and realize, "Oh, that's a terrible idea. Back to the drawing board with that one." And really, until my child learns to speak and its first word is, like, "reaver" or "necromancy," who's to know that my baby is my story consultant?

Third, kids apparently make people think about their legacies. And although I don't really think to much about what I want to leave behind, a child can be a good motivator for me to think, "Wouldn't it be cool if my child could tell his classmates about the fantasy story his pop wrote"? (Oh, that's right: my kid is calling me papa.) Or, "Hey, I'm taking our child to the H.P. Lovecraft convention next weekend!" And I have a whole new person to fill with information about the Cthulhu Mythos or tales of Conan the Cimmerian. A person, I might add, who will not have acquired the skills to politely brush me off.

So I am all over this parenting thing. Mainly because I see ways to make it benefit my nerdy self.