Uh, Claude, Whose Code is it Anyway?

 

 I've messing around with Claude AI for generating programming code. It has been quite useful. I wasn't looking for complete programs — just looking for examples of certain functions I wanted to use. However, Claude generates fully functional programs as part of its output. So what it generates can be run as is. In my example, when looking for Javascript code to search and display lunr.js index entries, it included all of the Javascript, HTML, and CSS styling necessary to run a complete web page.

 Which got me to thinking. Clause does not actually "write" any code, it composes code that looks like code it has seen before. So, whose code is it really? I mean, I'm not going to, but if I did take code generated by Claude and publish it as part of a product, what is to stop someone in a year or two coming and saying "hey, that code at line such-and-such is from my product which is copyrighted.  I'm going to sue." 

Now my guess is people who use Claude — and Anthropic, the people who produce it — assume the code Claude consumed in building its language model is chopped up and mutated so much there will be no recognizable "chunks" left. But what if they are wrong?  And, in particular, what about all the very repetitive parts, like CSS styling, class naming, and the like? That code is likely to be the same on every example. What distant website does that come from and how recognizable is it?

Just as a quick example, the early images generated by ChatGPT often had a weird gray bar across the bottom right, which was clearly a ghost of the Getty Images identifier. One assumes Getty Images would not look kindly on my trying to publish and copyright such an image.

 Even if the code is recognizable, Anthropic under its terms and conditions says they make no claim of "non-infringement" for the resulting output. In other words, you're on your own, legally speaking, if you use the code they generate.

 Which led to another thought: even if there is no way to identify the original code in today's output, doesn't this open up a potentially lucrative avenue for unscrupulous individuals to copyright what Claude generates today and then sue future users when they replicate the same or similar code?  What if I ask Claude to generate code for common programming tasks — creating user accounts or validating phone numbers. Then use that code in a trivial application that I copyright. Two years from now I go searching for other programmers using Claude to do the same task — and probably generating the same or similar code — then sue them for copyright infringement. There would seem to be no way to prove Claude didn't borrow the code from me over the past two years...

 Not pretty. Perhaps not practical or likely to stand up in court. Everyone is talking about the whole question of whose code... or picture... or novel... it is that AI generates. But no one seems to really expect an answer, as if it was an insolvable puzzle. And in the meantime, a dark cloud of legal risk hangs over, not the technology, but the users. At some point in the not too distant future, I expect the legal teams at larger corporations to start cracking down on the use of AI coding tools as yet another Trojan horse for legal liability. 

I bought a bootleg NDS and it was... OK

 The title says it all. I bought a bootleg Nintendo DS and it was surprisingly decent as a game console. Why did I buy it? Several reasons.

First, my previous DS died when the screen stopped responding correctly. Any touch was seen as a series of taps. So touch and hold or drag became impossible.

The DS is no longer sold by Nintendo and new ones are rare as hen's teeth. I have several 3DSes, which can play my  library of DS games. However, I have only one functioning GameBoy Advance (an SP which is one of my all-time favorite devices), and replacement GBAs are harder to find than DSes. So I was looking for a backup in case my SP ever fails and was willing, for a reasonable price, to risk a gray market substitute.

There are plenty of used DSes for sale on sites such as eBay for anything from $40 to $200. Many of which are "refurbished". The DS I bought was listed as refurbished. But since it was coming from China, I assumed there was a high probability it would be of questionable legitimacy. 

And I was right. Sure, it has the standard Nintendo imprimatur and serial number on the back. However, the case itself is made from a cheaper, glossy yet but less reflective, plastic than official Nintendo products. But the real giveaway is the charger and charger port. The charging cable is some mutant USB thing — not a standard USB male plug nor DS plug but something half way between the two attached to a USB charger. Now, it might possibly contain a real, repurposed Nintendo DS motherboard inside. (I'm not interested enough to risk opening it up just for curiosity's sake.) But I suspect the chances of that are low. Especially given the change in power plugs.

But now that I have it, how does it fare? As I say, the construction looks cheaper than official Nintendo goods. On the other hand, I was surprised at how good the touch screen is. Clear, responsive. No discernible difference.

It successfully runs all of the DS and GBA cartridges I've thrown at it, including downloadable games sent from DS cartridges in my 3DS.

The most noticeable flaw in my gray market DS is the buttons. Nintendo hardware and controls are so smooth and well constructed, it is easy to forget how exceptional they are — until you play a generic system such as this. The buttons are "loose" to the point where it is easy to press them, even moderately, and have no response. So you end up playing with a much more heavy-handed style than you are used to or are comfortable with.  

This won't affect play too much except for those games that require very precise button timing. Also, I can't help thinking the need for my pressure on the controls will ultimately impact the longevity of the device as a whole. 

In summary, I am happy with my new device as an emergency replacement. However, it is also a good reminder of how exceptional the design and build on Nintendo products is and makes we want to take extra care with those systems I still have that are no longer being made.

A Year of Games, Week #1: Mobile Madden MVP (Minimum Viable Product)

 What is a year of games?

For those unfamiliar with agile development, minimum viable product (MVP) is where you start by delivering the simplest, most basic yet functional version of a product possible and then build out from there, incrementally improving and extending in "sprints". It's an interesting concept to keep in mind when thinking about some early mobile games. For example, you might consider Flappy Bird the penultimate example of an MVP for mobile games.

But back to my subject, Madden Football. And more specifically Madden on the Nintendo 3DS.

I've played Madden on many game consoles, starting with the N64, through GameCube, Wii, and PS2, 3 and 4. Each iteration getting more complex, more detailed, and more "realistic", graphically. I bought Madden for the 3DS when I first got the handheld (because it was one of the few day one games). However, I never played it at the time and it has sat, still shrink wrapped, on my shelf until recently, when I took it down, opened it and played it.

Considering its age and the limitations and newness of the platform at the time, Madden Football on the 3DS is actually a pretty good football game. Which surprised me.

I've played handheld Madden games before — on both the DS and PSP. But they aren't quite football. Don't get me wrong, they are fun video games. But it is kind of like playing cowboys and Indians using thread spools and clothespins as people. The sprites are clunky and malformed, everyone runs at 90 degree angles (kind of like trying to draw a diagonal line on an Eatch-A-Sketch), and the perspective is pulled back so far you're not really controlling the characters as much as bouncing them off each other in a giant game of pinball.

So if you are looking for a realistic football experience, you'll be disappointed. And frustrated. But if you forget the footballness of it and think of it simply as a type of abstract game dressed in football attire, they can be quite fun. Kind of like Pachinko with passing plays.

[Note: there was also a Game Boy Advanced version of Madden. However, I have never played it so I leave I to the reader's imagination what that might be like...]

Which is where Madden Football on the 3DS differs. It is more like its console kin than its handheld forebearers. The perspective is closer in and the controls are tighter. Mind you, this is not high end graphics in any way. It is just passably into the 3D realm — minimally viable as an actual football game.

Because it was first out on the 3DS, it also provides 3D-ish views. Which is OK, but acceptable because you can turn them off. The one feature that does irk me is that, since it was doing actual 3D polygons, the developers decided to show this off by actively rotating the camera as the play developed. A fancy but useless addition to game play and quite honestly made me a little seasick. Because the camera swings from end-to-end up to three times in a single play (such as a kickoff). This unnecessary feature, that can't be turned off, might be a fatal flaw.

Beautifully Frivolous Technology

I bought a PS Vita so I could play Tearaway. Skipping, for the moment,  the question of whether it was worth it to buy a system just to play one game (hint: once you start playing Tearaway, it doesn't matter), the PS Vita itself is a strange device.

Make no mistake about it, the Vita is a beautiful piece of technology. The screen is gorgeous. The device has a heft and sheen to it that makes it look and feel expensive. Is that superficial? Yes, it is. But that doesn't take away its value to the overall impression the device gives off. And as a gaming device, the two analog sticks work perfectly and provide a unique portable gaming experience.

However, for all of its top-notch features, the PS Vita also comes with some odd, unnecessary, and in several cases cheap and badly designed components.Why?

To start with, the game cartridge slot has a cover — a plastic cover — that is attached by four thin pliable plastic tabs. The first time you open the slot it is clear that these tabs are likely to be the first thing to break. Why is there a cover on the game slot at all? (It just gets in the way of changing games.) But if you need one, why such a shoddy design?

You can almost forgive Sony for thinking that the primary direction for games is digital downloads. But that clearly didn't work with the download-only PSP Go. And even if that is their direction, the audience has not fully transitioned from physical to digital media. So cheap design only makes the device seem unsuited for those interested in playing more  than two or three games. (What can fit on Sony's extraordinarily expensive memory cards.)

And then there is the software user interface. What is going on here? There is plenty of flashy interface to deal with. But why? I bought a device to play games on, but none of the games fit on the first screenful of icons there are so many unnecessary "social" apps pre-installed.

Where are the games?

And the unique "peel" mechanic where you have to pull each screen from the top-left down and to the right to go back, what's with that? It is a pretty animation. But why create a mechanic different from every other mobile device except to say "we're different" and frustrate all of your users?

There are so many decisions (3d quivering buttons, the "peal" mechanic, so many "me too" annoying and irrelevant social apps) that just scream "we don't care what you want, we want to impress you". And when I am paying $200 plus, I am not interested in being impressed. I want to be wowed by the function I want to use — the games I want to play. And on the positive side, the PS Vita supports just that with an outstanding screen, well-designed controls and even a little extra (such as the back touch pad). If only all the rest of the device stopped getting in my way....

Best. Documentation. Ever.

I recently picked up an OP-1 synthesizer from Teenage Engineering. The OP-1 is a marvel of design and engineering. But I already knew that, which is why I was so interested in it. What I didn't expect is that it has some of the best documentation I have ever seen.

Of course, saying it is the best documentation ever is a bit of an exaggeration. Kind of like saying Rembrandt is the best painter ever. Better than Renoir? Better than Tintoretto? When you get into the realm of art and genius, comparison becomes irrelevant. What is important is that they far outshine any of their contemporaries.

The same is true for the documentation of the OP-1. To start with it isn't "documentation" per se. There is no manual. There is no paper Getting Started guide. When you open the package (which serves as its own case, which is also pretty neat) there is a clear plastic overlay on top of the synthesizer, describing each of the controls. That's it.

Well, not quite it. Because in the available space over the keyboard the overlay also includes a 8-step "QuickStart" for getting started using the OP-1. Just enough to show off some of its key features and get you playing with it (literally and figuratively).

Does it cover all features? No. Does it go into detail about what each knob does? No. But it makes you comfortable trying them to find out for yourself. Besides, there actually is a more detailed printable user's guide available online. But you won't find that until you've at least looked over instructions on the overlay and tried it out a little. (There is a link to the online document in the lower-left of the overlay.)


Is it perfect? No, not quite. The plastic overlay can get a little wrinkled and not lay flat. Also, since much of the OP-1 is light gray, the white printing on the overlay can be a little hard to read when it is actually covering the device. But these are minor quibbles. For 95% of its purpose, the "documentation" for the OP-1 is as well designed and inspiring as the device itself. Nothing short of exceptional.

I Did Something Stupid (Wearable UX)

I did something stupid today. I disagreed with one of the leading experts in interface design, mobile, and specifically the soon-to-be-released Apple Watch.

The argument is over a chart Luke Wroblewski (@lukew) posted about the distraction factor of a smart phone vs. a smart watch, indicating use of a smart watch lets you be "more connected to the people around you..."

There are two problems here:

• First, the chart is fiction. It measures "real life" vs. "lost in phone" — concepts of psychological state which are hard to define, never mind measure.  Perhaps there is some real data behind the charts, but if so the labels do it no justice. I suspect the diagram is more a representation of belief or expectation than fact. In which, why is it a chart?
• Second, it is not the phone that this the point of distraction. It is the information on the phone — phone, watch, iPad, eye piece, etc — and not the device itself that is the distraction. So putting the notifications on the wrist may reduce the time it takes to switch from in-the-present to in-the-data, but it does not alter the distraction factor that data provides, whether it is in my pocket or on my wrist.

One of the most disturbing studies in this area is recent research into the use of "hands free" devices while driving.  I would equate Luke's proposal that data-on-the-wrist is  less distracting from "real life" to the arguments that hands-free phone technology is less distracting to driving. However, the National Safety Council published a report arguing that hands-free does not significantly reduce the risks to distracted driving.

"Hands-free devices often are seen as a solution to the risks of driver distraction because they help eliminate two obvious risks – visual, looking away from the road and manual, removing your hands off of the steering wheel. However, a third type of distraction can occur when using cell phones while driving – cognitive, taking your mind off the road. 

The amount of exposure to each risk is key. Crashes are a function of the severity of each risk and how often the risk occurs. Most people can recognize when they are visually or mechanically distracted and seek to disengage from these activities as quickly as possible. However, people typically do not realize when they are cognitively distracted, such as taking part in a phone conversation; therefore, the risk lasts much, much longer. This likely explains why researchers have not been able to find a safety benefit to hands-free phone conversations.  "

— Understanding the distracted brain:
Why driving while using hands-free cell phones is risky behavior
National Safety Council White PaperApril 2012

One argument is that the data on the smart watch is primarily uni-directional — not requiring a response. For example, a "be there in 5 mins"  message  But if that is the case, how are those messages being generated? By smart watch wearers pulling out their phones to push the messages? And the fact that the message doesn't require a response doesn't mean it doesn't require cognitive effort — and distraction from current activities — to process it.

Wearables such as smart watches may eliminate the time and effort required to pull out the smart phone. But I have my doubts (unfounded, uninformed, as they may be) that they actually reduce the distraction that modern streaming personal data causes.

My letter to Pentax/Ricoh: When Customer Service Fails

I recently had a bad customer service experience.  Such things are unavoidable. In this case, the warranty repair of my brand-new camera was delayed by warehouse closures, lack of parts, etc. These are things I understand.

The bad part of the story is that — although the basic problems were unavoidable — the overall experience was eminently solvable with just the slightest bit of customer awareness and contact. Over the three and a half months my camera was gone, No one from Pentax/Ricoh contacted me. Not to tell me they had received the camera. Not to tell me it was delayed. Not to tell me they were replacing it. Not  to tell me the tracking number when they sent it back. All of these things I had to find out by calling them, repeatedly.

But to make a bad story worse, I wrote to the company (see below) suggesting they would do well to keep customers (who may already be annoyed that their new equipment doesn't work) informed of basic status information, via emails, phone calls, or post cards.

That was three weeks ago. Today a representative of Ricoh called me (a first!) to explain to me:

1. I had written to the wrong person. Their executive VP doesn't handle issues like this. (Well, duh! But since their website doesn't provide any information on who to contact, I had no choice.)
2. Once again, he explained why the repair of my camera had been delayed. (Something I had been told, many times on the phone when I called to ask where my camera was.)
3. Their repair department was in another state entirely. (How does that matter?) And that it was very small and the staff did not have time to be corresponding with customers.

It was that last statement, along with the reassurance that my letter would be "kept on file", that really confirmed that Ricoh, as a company is fostering a culture devoid of empathy or care for their customers. 

Well, if they are going to "file" my letter and do nothing about it, I guess I will too. So I am filing my letter here, online, as a cautionary tale for any other customers who might unfortunately ever need support from Ricoh/Pentax. Better yet, someone considering purchasing any of their equipment might also want to consider their customer service history and attitude before making a decision about what brand to buy.

November 10, 2013

James Malcolm, Executive VP

Ricoh Imaging Americas Corp.

633 17th Street, Suite 2600

Denver, CO 80202

Dear Mr. Malcolm,

Earlier this year my wife bought me a Pentax X-5 camera as a present. I was thrilled. Unfortunately, the camera had a problem that caused it to freeze randomly. What happened next makes me wonder why anyone would purchase products from Pentax or Ricoh. What is worse is that the entire affair was easily avoidable had Ricoh taken just a few simple steps to demonstrate an interest in its customers. The damage to my opinion of Pentax/Ricoh may be irreparable. But I would like to offer some suggestions to salvage your reputation with others.

First let me explain what happened. I started by going to your website to see if the issue with my camera was a known issue. I was told I should send it in for repair under warranty, which I did. Over three months ago.

Since that time, Pentax/Ricoh has never contacted me directly. No notice that the camera was received. No message that it was accepted as being under warranty. No information about when it might be returned.

In that time my wife and I have called your support center at least five times. Each time the support personnel were extremely pleasant and accommodating. Even apologetic. Each time we were told a story about how parts were ordered, supplied were delayed, or some other action was pending. As pleasant as your representatives were, they never were able to give me a clear idea of what was wrong with the camera in the first place or when I could expect to get it back.

After two and a half months, they finally told us “management” had approved replacing the camera.  (Why? Who knows.) Since then we’ve called every week to find out where the replacement is, only to be told that they couldn’t say until they got a tracking number from “the warehouse”.

It is over three months since I sent my camera in, As I said, Pentax/Ricoh has never initiated any communication with me. Everything I know about this story comes from my wife and I dogging your support department on the phone. If I had thought there was any chance of this happening, I would never have purchased a Pentax camera to begin with. And knowing what I know now, I would never recommend Pentax or Ricoh products to anyone else either.

But for the sake of your current and future customers, I would like to suggest the following small changes to your procedures that could make a tremendous impact on overall customer satisfaction:

• When a customer sends in a product for repair, notify them (by email or postcard) that:
  1. It has been received.
  2. Whether it is accepted as a warranty repair or not.
  3. Ideally, tell them approximately how long the repair will take.
• If there is any delay in the repairs, contact the customer again explaining the delay and giving a new estimate for completion.

What hurts most about this experience is that we deliberately chose a Pentax camera over other competitors based on the Pentax 35mm camera we have used for more than 25 years. I will never think of Pentax in the same kind light again. And that is sad because the entire episode could have been so easily avoided.

Sincerely,

Andrew Gent

The $99 Device

I have lots of electronic gadgets around the house. Laptops ($600-800), TVs ($200-300), cell phones ($100-200 plus contract), video game consoles ($200-300), handheld game consoles ($150-200), tablets ($300-400), etc. With one or two exceptions, they are all quite impressive, heavily used, and worth the investment.

Mind you, that is no accident. In most cases, we spent a considerable amount of time analyzing whether we actually needed a new device, comparing options available on the market, and evaluating pros and cons before the purchase.  It's not that we can't afford these items. But they represent a significant cost — especially since they often require additional accessories to be useful. (More on that later.)

But not all my gadgets face the same scrutiny. A couple of years ago I bought a new digital camera.  I didn't need one;  I already had a perfectly good, if slightly older model.  But the new one was smaller and lighter with three times the resolution. More importantly, it was on sale for $80. So I bought it.

The fact is there is a tipping point below which an item becomes discretionary — throw away — a toy rather than a necessity— something you can buy on a whim rather than after careful consideration. I find from experience that for me that point is around $100. And, based on recent events, I suspect the same is true for many other Americans.

There has been a recent surge in sub-$100 electronic gadgets. All but the best smart phones advertise themselves that way (although that price point really is a sham since they require a contract that can exceed $100 a month).  The glut of Chinese android tablets sold through Amazon and Walmart are aiming at this market as well.

But what really caught my eye were two new, innovative gadgets coming in at this lower price point. First, is what Tadhg Kelly refers to as the video game "microconsoles". First among these is the Ouya, priced at $99 and targeted for general release in June.

The Ouya is not a copycat device; it is an entirely new concept entering a market dominated by entrenched, high-cost devices. Rather than using custom high-end components, Ouya uses largely commodity hardware and an open source operating system (Android) to build a low-cost, open platform for gaming. Even business-wise, it is different, since the focus is providing a competent platform quickly (and frequently) rather than expensive hardware plus expensive games on a 5+ year cycle.

Will it succeed? There's no way to tell. I think there's a good chance it will. And I hope it will, since I think there is a desperate need for some middle ground between high-end dedicated consoles and, quite frankly, sub-par cell phone/touch pad experiences. But there are plenty of unknowns involved. Not the least of which is: what games will be available on the Ouya?

But at $99 for the console and one controller, It is a very appealing item, which I am likely to buy just to see how it works. Its success in the market  would be an added bonus. But not even that is necessary. Because of the open platform, I could still use it as a sandbox for building my own games if I want.

The second gadget is Dell's Project Ophelia, and its competitors such as the S21H and MK809 II. These items all represent a new type of device, what might be called a PC-on-a-stick. They are not much bigger than a USB thumbdrive and serve as a very portable laptop replacement.

The Chinese entries, such as S21H and MK809 II, actually act as a portable computer; just plug them into a monitor or TV  and connect a keyboard and mouse and... voila!  Instant computer! 

Now, there are obvious drawbacks. The operating system, Android again, is designed for touch devices. So it is unclear how usable most apps will be with a mouse. But again, these devices come in around $60-80, making them an attractive "experiment".

This is particularly true of Project Ophelia, which takes a slightly different approach. Rather than providing a complete computer on a stick, Project Ophelia provides remote access to more powerful computers running familiar OSes. 

 Now, there are even more questions about these laptops-on-a-stick than the microconsoles. Details such as how much storage, boot time, power supply, and the most obvious: how large is the audience that has monitors, keyboards, and mice at all the appropriate locations? Be that as it may, it is still an intriguing option that solves problems tablets and smart phones do not today — e.g. "serious" computing that requires more accuracy than touch screens and more text editing than IMs and short emails.

So, will I get one? Not sure. I'm tempted.  If I had more faith that the wifi was reliable on the Chinese models, I would. Even at $50 or so, these devices must work properly to be worthwhile, even as a toy. And, although  I have more faith in Project Ophelia, it looks like it is largely an entry device for a cloud service, which — like smartphones — where the subscription fees would quickly exceed the initial outlay in cost.

So Ouya is clearly in my sights as an impulse buy. Even if Project Ophelia isn't, just its presence in the market — and the interest it inspires — indicates there is both an opportunity and a problem to be solved in the computing ecosystem somewhere between the ease of smartphones and tablets on one side and the heavy-duty computing of laptops and desktops on the other.

Going Around in Circles

I, like several million other people, have recently been trying out Google+. G+ has received plenty of press in the past few weeks and I don't want to add to the noise. But when I started I noticed two things that I didn't see mentioned until recently:

• All my G+ friends are KM types, or otherwise involved professionally in communication and social interaction. Few if  any of my "normal" friends are using G+ (or see why they should).
• I don't like making circles. They require too much thinking.

The first observation were confirmed this week when the unofficial Google Plus Directory (http://findpeopleonplus.com/) posted demographic information on G+ users based on their ascribed professions. Most of the top twenty are technology or information-focused professions. And many of those that are not explicitly "in the business" are questionably tied to technology (such as writers and designers).

My second issue is around circles. I understand they sound like a good idea. My personal (and professional) relationships are more complex than Facebook's simplistic friends / non-friends model.So being able to define your relationships in more detail sounds like a positive step.

The problem is, it's far more difficult than it sounds. I have friend friends and I have professional friends. I have professional friends and professional acquaintances. Some work for my old employer; some used to; some never did. Some know I am interested in poetry and video games (among other things); some don't. A few have met my wife; some may not even know I am married.

When I start to break it down, it is not only not binary, it is more complex than even I can describe. Which is what makes Google+'s circles so frustrating. They require too much thinking. This is not a technical issue, per se, but a failure to be able to turn an implicit organic process into an explicit concrete categorization.

In other words, my friends are analog and circles are digital.

Andrew McAfee confirmed my suspicions in a blog post. He goes into far more depth and argues that it is an issue of a priori vs. a posteriori decisions.I am sure he is right from a process perspective, but I am not even sure deciding after I find an item to share is going to help that much.

Part of the joy of Twitter is that there is no decision. You post or you don't. You open yourself to anyone who chooses to listen (essentially). Oh, it has its limitations as well (starting with the length of the messages). But the freedom from thinking about who a message is intended for can be quite liberating.

However, that freedom doesn't have much to do with friends; it has more to do with publishing (or proclaiming). But it can be a useful and easier process in the digital world than trying to sort out your friends.

What Knowledge Management Can Learn from Small Groups

I used to work for a large multinational corporation. I now work for a small startup consisting of 12 people who work in one room together. There is not much "knowledge management" needed with a group that size. That doesn't mean knowledge management doesn't happen, just that it happens more instinctively and with less stress around the edges.

In fact it would seem reasonable to assume that there is little if any relationship between the two situations. But in fact there are some interesting lessons when observing small groups that can be applied to larger corporations:

Everyone is different

Even though my current company consists of only 12 people, there are 12 different personalities and approaches to work, communication, technology, etc. When you work in large organizations, there is a tendency to talk about how people will respond to new programs as if it were a unary decision, where all (or at least most) people respond in one way. We are then surprised by the number of people who fall outside of the defined norm.

Every project or process has a target behavior — how you want people to use the process. But that behavior is only a target. The overall response, when all individual behaviors are taken as an average — may fall within the target range. But any single person is likely to have their own particular usage model that may well be unexpected.

Multiple, overlapping technologies are not a problem

Within my small sampling, we have 12 unique sets of technologies, including different operating systems; different hardware (some laptops, some desktops, often both); different software tools; and countless communication devices. Everyone has email, everyone has an instant messaging client of some kind (or two or three), we also have wikis, blogs, forums, and an IRC channel. Not to mention smart phones, blackberries, iPads, etc.

We occasionally have a discussion about the appropriate place to post information — especially material under review or in draft form. But I have yet to hear any complaints that there are too many choices.

In large organizations, one of the basic requirements for any project is keeping the toolset small. If there is to be a knowledge management "system", it has to be a single system accessible by anyone in the target audience. Better yet, a single system covering multiple disciplines (KM, project management, resource management, etc.)

The rationale for keeping the toolset small sounds good in theory:

• Universal accessibility
• Reduced learning curve/training costs
• Only one place to look for information
• Reduced IT/support costs & complexity

But this rationale is based on 1980's computing constraints:

• Universal accessibility — what technology, especially collaboration technology, isn't available through a web browser or across platforms (e.g. IM clients)? Selecting one tool does not make the information more or less accessible.
• Reduced learning curve/training costs — at the same time corporations are trying to restrict the number of applications to "reduce the learning curve", their employees are busy trying out Facebook, Twitter, Skype... The main reason learning curve is a problem is because you are trying to teach people something they don't want to learn. Perhaps the issue is with the content, not a limitation of the audience's ability to multi-task.
• One place to look for information — I have heard this argument for years, but I have yet to see a single instance where a company has successfully integrated all information into a single application. In fact, corporations seem determined to segment their knowledge into individual repositories. The closest they come to "one place for all information" is intranet search. However, they determinedly resist efforts to use generalized search engines (such as Google) and often limit what information is indexed by search under the auspices of "qualifying" content. (What happened to "one place"?)
• Reduced IT/support costs — I used to believe this argument, because it was true. But over time, just as the locked door computer room has shrunk and more and more technology (and computing power) has migrated from a secure, air-conditioned environment.... onto the desk... out of the office... into the pocket... the role of IT in controlling — or even choosing — technology has changed significantly. But IT as an organization and as a profession seems unwilling to accept or accede to that change.
  

However, individual technologies can run foul of individual preferences

The fact that people have multiple technologies, doesn't mean they use them the same way (cf. everyone is different). Years ago, I was shocked when I answered my office phone to discover that the caller was in an office no more than thirty feet away. But I thought nothing of sending email to the person in the cube next to me.

More recently, I was bemused the first time I received an instant message from a fellow worker two cubes down. (They didn't want to disturb the others by talking, since we work in such close proximity.)

How and when individuals use different technologies seems like an almost limitless set of permutations. Of the 11 people I currently work with:

• At least one answers email before IM
• One seems to respond to both equally (and instantaneously)
  
• Several answer either IMs or email, but with no clear pattern or preference
  
• One will respond to IMs more often than email, but will answer the IM via email.
• One never responds to IMs.

Is this good or bad use of the technology? It is neither. It is how individuals work. Part of "knowledge management" is managing your sources of knowledge, your technology, and your contacts. It is not enough to know how to use the technology; you must also know how it is used by your community.

I know this concept — the preeminence of personal choice — is an anathema to many KM practitioners. It is like trying to establish order without disturbing the chaos. How can you promote a company-wide program if each individual gets to choose for themselves?

Well, it is not quite that bad. It is not that each individual gets to decide for themselves. You can dictate, require, or recommend specific technologies and approaches. But you need to recognize that your audience will perform those actions in the way they think is best.

Finally...

Have faith in people

It is easy to see other people's behavior — when it runs counter to expectations — as stubborn or willful when it is nothing of the sort. People will be altruistic, especially when it involves assisting other individuals. However...

KM is not their job!

As well intentioned as they may, people have a job to do, deadlines to meet, and responsibilities to uphold. If they think of it, they are willing to share with others. But more often than not, it does not occur to them that the information they hold is valuable to others — especially if that value will not be realized until some indeterminate time in the future.

Discussions held in hallways or decisions made over lunch are sometimes the most important events within a project. But no one thinks to capture them in a wiki or email the rest of the team. This is not knowledge hoarding, it is simply an inability to recognize that anyone else cares.

Ultimately, perhaps the most powerful KM tool any company has is nagging repetition. When someone writes something down, remind them to post it to a forum or wiki. When they say something interesting suggest others they should tell via email. Suggest alternate ways to search for solutions to project problems.

This sort of gentle persuasion on an individual basis can be tedious, since the scope is limited to specific situations with one or two people at a time. And I am not suggesting it alone is sufficient to make KM work on a large scale. However, it is surprising how soon you see others (who you have prodded) acting without instigation or suggesting it to others. And from such small efforts, large effects can accrue.

Well, that is OK for a small office, but how does this apply to large corporations? The most successful KM programs I have seen, even in very large corporations,  have always had one or two advocates who were tireless in not only promoting "the program", but jumping in and helping individuals with their specific problems and demonstrating KM-ish techniques along the way. Their influence went far beyond just the person they helped, but to anyone that person then spoke to, their friends, etc... Not only their reputation preceded them, but the behavior they modeled went with it to corners of the company they might never have visited personally.

Where is the etree for Poetry?

Where is the etree, trader's den, or dimeadozen for poetry? Where is the poetry channel for YouTube or the Internet Archive?

The latter question is a bit facetious. There are poetry videos on YouTube and there is a poetry channel in the Internet Archive. And the groups that have contributed to them (in particular, UCal Berkeley on YouTube and the Naropa University in the Internet Archive) deserve a lot of credit for their efforts.

However, finding the actual poetry readings on YouTube requires sifting through pages and pages of "experimental" video interpretations and def jam promos. The Naropa Institute has done much more to bring at least one branch of America poetry to the Internet. However, the Internet Archive's poetry channel is starting to fill up not with readings by authors but ordinary citizens providing their interpretation of famous poems.

I'm not talking about poetry "slams" and def jam -- poetry as a competitive sport -- or my next door neighbor reading poetry. There is plenty of that to go around. I am talking about a more comprehensive view of the growing history and record of modern poetry (both American poetry and poetry from other countries and cultures).

When I was in school (granted, too many years ago to count), the discussion often turned to how poetry is an oral tradition, both in its composition and its presentation. Poetry readings were special events -- giving us the opportunity to hear familiar poems the way they were intended by the poet or to experience new work and new forms.

Now, granted, not all poets are good readers. But the poetry reading does provide a unique bond between author and reader that is not possible through the printed word alone. There are hundreds of poetry readings a year in colleges, libraries, and book stores around the country. Some of these readings are being recorded either as audio or video. But access to almost all of these recordings is currently closed or hidden.

Organizations such as the Lannan Foundation, University of Pennsylvania, and Naropa School of Poetics have done an amazing job to bring at least some of this material to the public. And there may be others I haven't discovered yet. But with these notable exceptions, much of the oral history of American poetry since the latter half of the 20th century has been lost.

For example, when I was growing up, there was an extraordinary series on public television called Poetry USA, including interviews and readings from Frank O'Hara, Anne Sexton, and Robert Creeley among others. Try as I might, I haven't been able to find any of these either online or as videos or DVDs. I know they were made available, because I saw them again when I was in college. But this piece of history seems to have been lost from neglect.

The organizations I mention above are doing what they can and should be commended for their efforts. But what about the other groups who sponsor readings? There is a reading at a college campus, a library, or a bookstore at least once a week across America. (Probably much more. Once a day? Or more?) Are any of these being recorded and if so, what happens to those recordings?

It is not just the responsibility of large organizations. We as audience and participants can just as easily take the initiative. In music, there is a very strong community of aficionados who are sharing live recordings through sites such as etree and dimeadozen. It would be nice to think the same could be established for poetry.

So what am I suggesting? Three things:

Start Sharing

Poets and poetry readers tend to think of themselves as a small community. Which is true, within one's own limited geographic area. But cumulatively, the poetry community in America and around the world is huge. Rather than concentrating on how unique we are, perhaps we should start realizing the breadth and scope of the world of poetry as a whole.

Those who have recordings of poetry readings, either as audio or video recordings, should start sharing them openly. The monetary cost of publishing media on the web is approaching zero. Sites such as Archive.org and YouTube provide free storage -- as well as the necessary search and browse interface to make the content findable -- for free. The only remaining cost for college English departments, libraries, and individuals who may have existing recordings is the time needed to digitize them.

Make Sharing Easier

Although free storage is available, it is not always the easiest to find information in. The Internet Archive provides a basic structure based on media type and categories. But you often spend a fair amount of time sifting through miss-sorted lists of recordings. YouTube is perhaps worse because of its sheer volume. (YouTube is excellent for serendipitous discovery. Not so good at finding specific types of content.)

On the other hand, sites such as Pennsound provide a well-moderated, easily searched collection of recordings. Unfortunately, there does not seem to be any way for others to contribute to the existing archive.

What would be ideal is if there were commonly recognized tools and processes for sharing live poetry recordings.

In the world of music, sites such as etree and dimeadozen provide both a service for user contributions (through bittorrent) and a set of best practices and guidelines for sharing live recordings. These sites, although operating in a gray area of copyright law, do a remarkable job of self-regulation concerning what is allowed, what is required, and how to distribute live recordings that are both findable and usable.

Many of the specific rules (such as the use of lossless audio formats) used by music sites are not necessary for spoken word recordings. But the overall process, approach, and philosophy of sharing would be a good model for the poetry community to follow.

One alternative, since there will inevitably be both sponsored sites (such as Lannan and Pennsound) as well as community sites (such as YouTube and Archive.org) is to develop tools and sites to solve the finding problem separate from the storage problem. A live poetry specific search engine or directory (similar to Captain Crawl, livesoccertv, or other community-specific sites) could help tie together the multiple technologies in use.

Encourage Sharing

Finally, since the current lack of sharing is not really a question of either technology or capacity, the most important goal would be to encourage everyone involved in recording live poetry to start sharing, both from the recorder and the performer's perspective. What is needed is a common agreement that the poet agrees to the recording and the recorder agrees to distribute the recording for free.

Often when readings are recorded, if there is any agreement with the poet, it is simply a verbal request to record the reading. There is either agreement or refusal, with little discussion of either the intent or planned use of the recording. This is problematic both for the poet and the recorder; the poet has little or no control on what is done with the recording and the recorder has no explicit agreement that they can distribute what they record. The recording becomes a legal "displaced person".

To both encourage non-commercial sharing of recordings and protect the people involved, it would be very helpful to have a commonly accepted legal document setting out the limits and accepted uses of the recording.

What I am thinking of is something simple, similar to the GNU Public license or the Creative Commons license, stating that the poet agrees to be recorded and the recorder agrees to make the recording available for non-commercial use. It would both explicitly exclude commercial release (for which the performer ought to be compensated if that is the goal) and require sharing rather than simply recording and storing. (Of course, this in no way precludes the poet from making deals for commercial recordings if they wish. The agreement would only be for personal-use or non-commercial recordings.)

Going a step further, it would be good to have the agreement specify exactly what license the recording will be distributed under (such as Creative Commons), to ensure that those who later receive the recording also understand their rights and responsibilities concerning use and redistribution of the recording.


Epilogue 

Is what I describe possible? Absolutely. Likely to happen? I'm not sure. There are very few technical hurdles, but it would require some minor effort (such as developing the recording agreement) and significant promotion by interested individuals. I would love to be involved, but I am a little too far outside the mainstream of the poetry community to promulgate such a scheme myself. But I do hope something like this comes to pass before we lose any more of a very precious resource.

Thinking About Tabs

OK. I am back to designing interfaces. Well, interaction design more than UI design since I am concentrating on the larger scale sets of content and interaction rather than the detailed UI artifacts on the page.

One thing I am learning this time around is that I have a proclivity for tabs. But tabs are dangerous. Let me explain.

Tabs are an easy way out. They let you create multiple "views" or "panels" at an equal level and tie them together with the tabs. For example, Facebook (with Home / Profile / Find Friends), Yahoo Shopping, or — most famously — Amazon. Of course, Amazon has dropped their tabs. But the intent is still present in their lefthand pull-right menus.

The key to a tabbed interface is that it lets the user decide between multiple functions or views. The advantage is that the tabs stay present so the user can navigate easily between functions. The disadvantage is that it is up to the user to decide; the interface does not promote a specific priority or process.

Which is what makes tabs dangerous. It is too easy for the designer to accede responsibility for guiding the user and say disingenuously "the user gets to decide".

Tabs make sense when dealing with a large inventory of heterogeneous objects. In this situation the tabs act as a classification mechanism. But what if the content is not evenly distributed or readily partitioned? Then the tabs are simply a way to "chunk" a large set of functions with little regard for their natural affinities (c.f. the facebook tabs).

While working on my current design project, I discovered that I often fall back on tabs as a default technique for organizing disparate information and controls. The consequence is that I tend to get lazy and not think through the other possible options.

Even if done well, tabs tend to reinforce ingrained ways of viewing the content, without thinking too deeply about the alternatives. Using tabs feels safe, but it can unnecessarily fragment the workspace, separating functions the user may want to compare or contrast. (Jakob Nielsen has an excellent essay on this topic.)

So, if tabs are not the answer, what are the alternatives? Perhaps it might serve us well to think about why tabs so readily come to mind. I suspect it is historical. The web started as a hypertext delivery system, where the text was largely static. There were forms, but little other interactivity. Much of the "early days" of the web were focused on determining best how to:

• Structure the content
• Represent the structure as navigation

Menu bars, navigation menus, and ultimately tabs became essential components of the web experience and designer's toolkit. However, as we move into Web 2.0 and the predominance of scripting languages, flash, and HTML v5, the web is not only interactive, it becomes an application of it own.

Although there is still a lot of text and pictures where navigation plays a role, there is a lot more interaction involved and the design must help direct users through processes, not just content. It is unclear that what has been learned from years of application interface design has yet to be effectively integrated in web interface design.

Moderation (or Lack Thereof)

For the past month or so I have been struggling with an ethical dilemma. My original intent in writing this blog was as a vehicle for me to think through some of the issues and ideas that concern me most. A second goal is to share those ideas with people -- friends and the occasional stranger -- who find their way here. A happy coincidence of the blog is the opportunity to converse with people who share my interests and concerns.

Since my blog is open to the world, I feel it only fair that if I get to have my say, the favor should be returned and others should be able to comment on what I post. I really enjoy seeing what others have to say, even if they don't agree with me.

Given the limited audience I expect, I figured spam would not be to much of an issue. But I chose to require registration before you could comment as a deterrent, just in case. And that worked... until recently.

Over the past few months I have been getting more and more spam -- particularly in Chinese -- posted as comments. I just put it down to the inevitable random internet annoyance, but made sure to delete them as soon as I could. I figured I could live with this downside of a public site, even at one or two spam comments a week.

But the volume has increased to a bogus comment every day or two and although I don't mind the work, I am annoyed that they are there even for the few hours before I get a chance to delete them. I don't want to create more barriers than necessary, but I finally broke down and added moderation to comments on this blog. This means I have to "approve" comments before they become visible on the blog.

To those of you who do come here to read or comment on my blog, I apologize. I am distressed that I have to add this extra layer of indirection. But the use of moderated comments is not intended in any way to limit or censor your responses.

And, of course, thanks for reading... and responding!

Twitterfish Revisited (the Language of Tweets)

Last year I built Twitterfish to translate Twitter messages as a demonstration related to consulting I was doing. I haven't done much with the prototype since, until recently.

It turns out that the new company I work for is stirring up interest in both the US and overseas -- particularly in Japan. But it is tedious to translate the Japanese tweets one at a time.

When I wrote Twitterfish, I thought of handling search results... But it was a prototype and I didn't have a lot of incentive to finish it off. Suddenly I had both the interest and the need.

So Twitterfish now supports search. (See the tabs below the banner.) It also paginates the search results.

Next on my list is displaying the date/time of each tweet, because I may need to count the number of tweets per week...

What Happened to Postcards?

I spent much of yesterday at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. It was a singularly exhausting experience -- as most museum visits are. (Being a combination of exhilaration and stultification at the same time.)

But what particularly struck me was when we visited the gift store before leaving (I can't resist tacky souvenirs) and there were no postcards for sale.

Yes, they had one small rack of postcards of Egyptian paraphernalia, capitalizing on their current special exhibit of an Egyptian tomb and children's fascination with mummies. (Egypt is to art museums what dinosaurs are to science museums.) There was also a book of postcards depicting paintings by Monet. But there were no small mementos for sale of the individual works that may have struck a chord during your visit.

At first I was confused. But then it occurred to me that there may be a very practical reason why postcards are missing: no one sends physical mail anymore.

Now, this is just supposition. There are a number of different reasons why they may no longer sell postcards: too expensive to produce, take up too much space, need to constantly change stock to keep up with what is on display at any given time... But these conditions are either identical to what they were 20 years ago or easily offset by inflating prices (as they do with the trivets, posters, T-shirts, and other items that are on display).

So I can only assume the market for postcards has itself diminished because people do not send physical mail anymore. Statistics from the US postal service verify this, indicating that personal correspondence via USPS decreased 14% between 2002 and 2008. And the drop off is expected to continue.

The unfortunate part of this situation is that postcards play a role beyond just souvenirs and something to write "wish you were here" on. Postcards, especially postcards from places like museums and zoos that have many different exhibits, serve as mnemonic devices. These mnemonics remind us of the strong emotional experience of seeing the painting, sculpture or whatever. They also act as a surrogate of that experience that we share with those we send the postcards to.

People do not send as much mail because email and other electronic media have replaced the need for physical letters and cards. (As well as being easier, cheaper, and more convenient.) In place of postcards, I could have taken pictures of the paintings I wanted to remember -- which I did in a few instances. But the lighting in museums is hardly conducive to photography. (In some cases, it doesn't even seem very conducive to viewing!)

So what should be done? As much as I enjoy postcards, I recognize it is not practical to argue a return to a form of gifting that never was very practical and is now downright archaic. But it would be a loss to the patrons -- and to the museum -- if there were no form of mnemonic to help visitors retain and relive the pleasure of seeing the art in first person.

If it is not financially viable to stock physical postcards, perhaps they can make it possible to send electronic postcards or custom "picture books" of one's favorite works, whether to yourself or to your friends?

But, surprise surprise. They almost do...

The museum has an searchable online catalog of many of its holdings. The catalog has an expansive advanced search capability. It even lets you send e-cards once you find a specific item. (Yes!)

However, the catalog is only available if you are on the internet, not in the museum itself. (No!) Add to that, the catalog is really designed for those who understand how the catalog works, not the casual user. (For example, the search interface has 12 fields. Enter "Egypt" under culture and search for items on display and nothing shows up. Search for "Egypt" as a keyword and 58 pages of results are returned.)

What would be great would be if there were monitors in each room that let you browse the items available in that room. (No painful searching.) You could select an item and send an e-card in seconds when it strikes you, rather than spending minutes (or more) searching for it later.

Better still, for those with smart phones you could provide a simplified interface that only asks for the asset or accession number. (The accession number appears on the bottom of the placard describing each work of art.)

(Example placard with the accession # 72.2617)

The visitor could quickly call up an item they liked and send e-cards to others or a reminder to themselves on the spot. They could even create an e-book of their favorite works as they proceed through the collection.

In an ideal world, the MFA could put 2D barcodes on the placards so the information could be scanned and retrieved automatically by cellphone. This would be the easiest method technically. However, it would require changes to museum itself (the placards) and a common interface on cell phones -- something available in Japan but still not standard in the US yet.

So sticking with the first two suggestions -- and especially the suggestion for a simplified search available on smart phones -- it would be possible for the MFA to provide a thoroughly innovative and satisfying way for visitors to remember and share their experience with very little change to the existing infrastructure.

Why should the MFA bother? Although this sort of addition would have a cost associated with it, much of the technology already exists in the electronic catalog. Simply by creating a targeted interface -- and promoting the new capability - the museum can deepen the experience for the patron as well as advertise its best qualities through the messages the patrons send.

The word "souvenir" comes from the French for the act of remembering. Postcards are both a souvenir in the sense of a mnemonic device and a vehicle of communication. Their loss may seem minor from a commercial perspective, but they served as a valuable thread connecting the museum experience (quiet, austere, contemplative) with the visitor's regular life (loud, jumbled, exciting and excitable). A thread by which we carry the experience of art from previous generations back into our lives.

Without it, the day at the museum is just that: a day at the museum. But museums have the opportunity to create an even stronger link, electronically. It will be interesting to see if they pick up the challenge.

The Art of Managing Knowledge Management Programs

I recently gave a presentation on adaptive knowledge architectures (slides and audio). The presentation was more a case study than anything else. I ended with two slides of lessons learned -- what I would do differently in hindsight to avoid the difficulties we encountered.

The original slides (and afterthought) are more conceptual than practical. For example, my primary insight was "beware of success". What I meant by that was that, if you succeed, others will not only want to jump on the bandwagon, they will try to take control and alter both the goals and practices to match their needs rather than the original principles.

There were two things I left out of my slides. One I intentionally left out because it is a more generalized issue about strategy, KM or otherwise. The other I simply forgot until people started asking me questions. They are both practical considerations when managing knowledge management programs.

The general rule is: communicate continually and repeatedly.

I must have presented the original architecture (the 3-tier model) 50-60 times when we started. And my boss at the time did as well. It even appeared in a case study written by Microsoft.

I would then include the 3-tier architecture diagram at the beginning of every KM presentation I gave -- explaining how the new features or changes fit into the architecture. Inevitably someone would ask about the diagram as if they had never seen it. Even people I know I had presented it to within the previous year.

Richard Saul Wurman makes the point in one of his books that you only learn what you are ready to learn. This is particularly true of strategies and architectures. You have to repeat it over and over again -- until you are bored with it! Because there will be people who haven't absorbed it yet.

I think this applies particularly when you move into Enterprise 2.0 and web 2.0 where there is a seismic shift of intent and responsibilities. Managers just don't get it. They say they do, but they don't. They are hearing part of it (the rapid adoption part) but not the self-managed part. They think they can pick and choose the attributes without damaging the system. Sorry, it doesn't work that way. In the case study I used for my adaptive architecture presentation, that is exactly what they did to our communities.

Which brings me to my second point (the one I had forgotten). The reason they took over our communities was not so much that we had succeeded at KM, but that we had succeeded at content management. At the beginning of my presentation I mentioned that the 3-tier diagram includes the top tier (the intranet) so I could dismiss it and say it is not part of the KM environment.

What I didn't count on was the fact that we built an infrastructure (based on SharePoint) that was so much easier to use and and manage than what was being used for the intranet, management would want it for their "portals".

Essentially, they were responsible for the last branch of the intranet hierarchy and it took weeks (and several employees) to get content posted. Ironically, I had worked with the organization's IT team trying to sell them on using SharePoint to manage their intranet sites (separate from our KM infrastructure), but it was rejected. (I won't go into that here, but that was an entertaining episode in its own right.)

But what happened was management saw that our "communities" had all the attributes of their portals but little of the pain. So they jumped on it.

So what would I do differently? I wouldn't ignore the top layer. I would set aside part of the infrastructure just for them. Even though it isn't really KM, I would do it to create a manageable buffer zone between their activities and our KM processes.

How does this apply to Enterprise 2.0? I think the same thing will happen to people trying to implement web 2.0 internally. Part of the attraction of social software is its ease of use. And if the technology catches on, people will jump on it for purposes not intended by the software vendors or the sponsors. And once they do, they will try to apply their traditional "management" thinking to it.

Two small examples I saw at a large corporation:

• The internal corporate "wikipedia" included pages describing, among other things, each of the organizations: what they did, who ran them, their relationships. Someone discovered this and complained that the entries did not match the description on the managed intranet pages. It was not a suggestion or a demand. It was simply stated as what they saw as a fact; that the wiki pages should be made to match the intranet pages. In other words, selected content should be controlled.
  
• On our social networking site we got management to promote the site to our organization. It was then pointed out that the managers themselves should create profiles. Several did. But upper management insisted that their executive assistants draft the content and that we should have a way to post these "ghosted" profiles (completely in opposition to the basic model and implementation of the application). We did change the software to permit this, but as innocuous as this sounds it does create a philosophical schism in the application: who gets to have "ghosted" profiles? How can people tell real from edited profiles? etc.

These may seem trivial, but our apps were still in birth mode, without widespread adoption. So these were just the first signs of the problem.

The question is: what would I do about it? Like I said in the presentation, I don't think there is a generic answer. It depends on the corporate culture and, I'm afraid, the individuals involved. You can try to second guess the culture. So, for example, in hindsight I would have created spaces for the HQ intranet sites to try to alleviate the pressure on the communities. Would that have worked? Possibly. But it is just as likely that they would then argue that the communities are unnecessary since their portals provide all the information consultants need. (Which, in fact they did when they argued that we should dissolve all of the communities that they didn't control. But we managed to stop that effort...)

In the case of Enterprise 2.0, I would have suggested creating one or more executive wikis, secured for use by managers of the individual organizations. This may have satisfied their need for secrecy, ease of use, and taught them a little bit about the operating principles of web 2.0. Would that have sufficiently distracted them from messing with the employee wiki (which was the real goal)? Perhaps, perhaps not. But it would be worth a try.

Another recommendation would be to have a very clear business objective for E2.0. For example, internal development blogs for each project/product. You can allow other uses of blogs, but by having a clear, measurable, but not ROI-based, objective and repeatedly stating it (i.e. constant communication as stated above) you may be able to deflect people trying to commandeer the program.

I could go on, but I better stop before I end up writing War & Peace...

[Many thanks to Steve Ardire for inspiring this post and Stan Garfield for teaching me much of what I know about managing KM programs.]

Bing Bang Boom

I've seen it. I've tried it. I'm bored.

OK. That's not entirely fair. All the hoopla around the emergence of Microsoft's new search engine Bing has made me testy.

Bing isn't all that bad as a search engine. There's nothing particularly new here (except the name) and lots of copy cat behavior. Overall it is an improvement over its predecessor, Live Search. But why all the ruckus?

Why? Because Microsoft is out to "win". All their business strategies focus on displacing the current industry leader and taking command of the market so they can then use that position to promote (or as they like to say "integrate") all their other products. Oh yes, there's the usual nod to improving the user experience and enhancing productivity. But the ultimate goal is market dominance.

And they are willing to spend the money to do it. Ten million dollars, purportedly. One might say "what's so wrong with that? This is a free market economy isn't it?" Yes it is. On the other hand, I don't know if Seth Godin was thinking about Microsoft as he was writing it, but his blog entry strikes me as very apropos when he says "you're boring." As Seth put it, the "half-price sale on attention is now over."

I'm not as sanguine as Seth. I think there is still a lot of attention that can be bought. And Microsoft has done it over and over again. Internet Explorer, Office, even Windows itself. Why do you think they redesign the logos of their products for every version? And the user interface? To make them look new. To give the consumer (particularly the corporate consumer) a reason for upgrading.

I am tired of Microsoft buying their way into the market with mediocre, me-too products. What's annoying is that their products aren't that bad. Windows has grown up into quite a reasonable OS. And Office has most of the features any normal human being could want. Unfortunately, it also has bucket loads of features that 90% of humanity will never need and that get in the way of finding the useful ones, simply as part of the one upmanship of product sequels.

And now we have Bing. What is really annoying about Bing is that it might be a good search engine. I'm not sure. A competitor to Google? Unlikely, but possible. But I am so sick of Microsoft's aggressive business practices (usually at the expense of the user), that I am soured to everything it does and Bing suffers for it.

But I did try Bing. And it's OK.

• The top horizontal function menu is borrowed wholesale from Google, as is the stripped down functional layout.
  
• The design does has a nice, clean visual feel.
  
• There's been a lot of touting of the popup excerpts for search results. But haven't we had abstracts since AltaVista 14 years ago?
  
• The Related Searches sidebar is nice. But not nice enough to make me replace my current favorite search engine.

And that is where Microsoft has a problem. They sell plenty of software in the corporate world. But internet search is a personal choice. And a fickle one at that. They will be able to buy a certain amount of attention with advertising, but ultimately they need a significant change in functionality to make people change their ways. And I don't see it in Bing.

So, failing to win technically, they now want to win by subterfuge. Bing touts itself as something new, a "decision engine". Excuse me? What decisions is it making? Even if I liked Bing enough to try it, this hyperbolic nonsense is enough to make me want it to fail simply to spite Microsoft's incessant marketing machine.

Which is a shame. Bing is a decent search engine. I feel sorry for the engineers who have put their time into it because, ultimately, its success or failure will have little to do with their efforts compared to the animosity and confusion Microsoft's business practices generate in the market.

Have We Missed the Boat?

I have been following with interest the enthusiasm with which practitioners are adopting and promoting web 2.0 as the next big thing for knowledge management. (Myself included.) It is not hard to see why. The explosive growth of social media and social networking sites such as FaceBook, MySpace, LinkedIn and Twitter is enough to make any old school KMer turn green with envy. Why can't we induce that sort of participation in our knowledge sharing programs?

However, even when corporations try implementing web 2.0 solutions inside the firewall, the results are often underwhelming. That is the Enterprise 2.0 dilemma.

People have offered a number of explanations for the difference: limited audience, cultural constraints, lack of incentives, generation gap, etc. All of these have an impact. But I am beginning to think we (i.e. corporations and those who are trying to move them forward) may be missing the bigger picture.

Why did social computing succeed in the first place? Granted, a significant portion of it was originally personal in nature, but it was very quickly adopted by engineers, white collar workers, and other professionals as a way to discuss both their private and their work life, including their professional experiences. Many professions have established formal and/or informal communities where they collaborate and share information through blogs, forums, twitter, etc. outside of the companies they work for.

Why is it that they are so willing to share information on the internet that is so hard to get out of them inside the firewall? We can nitpick the details of how and why, but at some point we have to face the fact that they do it because they get more satisfaction from sharing information outside than inside.

People share information on the internet because they feel a sense of connectedness to others with similar interests and tastes. They also feel that their ideas and opinions matter.

Even when web 2.0 technologies and methods are used inside a corporation, the sense of satisfaction is greatly diminished. The audience is smaller -- immeasurably smaller -- so finding like minds is far less likely. There may be others within the company with similar roles or professions, but having the same job doesn't automatically make you friends. If, on the other hand, you take all of the people with similar jobs from all companies around the world who may be on the internet... the chances of compatibility increases.

More importantly, people -- peers -- on the internet may not be able to act on your ideas, but they can admire them, praise them, and commiserate with your inability to get them implemented. Because of the smaller audience, contributions to an intranet often elicit fewer if any comment. That doesn't mean they are not seen. But at least subconsciously, the contributor often feels like their offerings are falling on deaf ears.

What's more, the corporation's specific business focus dramatically cuts down the scope of what is "appropriate" or "noteworthy" within the smaller environment. Even without explicit guidelines, there is an implicit constraint within the firewall that does not exist externally. And if web 2.0 is about anything, it is about the individual's freedom to contribute as they see fit.

So, yes, the smaller audience does play a role. But it is the individual's sense of actively participating, connecting, and freedom of expression that drives continued use of social software on the internet and not within the firewall. Are they really free? No. They are constrained by their own personal code of civility and moral appropriateness -- especially when dealing with information concerning their employment. But the sense of freedom is key to their willingness to participate.

What's worse is that by implementing web 2.0 technologies inside the firewall without any commensurate modifications or integration, knowledge management programs once again look like stodgy organizations that see a fad but doesn't quite "get it".

So, is all hope lost? No. But there are several lessons that can be learned here:

• Don't expect too much. No matter what you do, adoption of social software will not be as viral internally as it is externally for all the reasons described above.
  
• You may need to "feed the pump". Interaction is critical to the success of social software. (That's why it's called "social".) Since feedback is going to be diminished inside the firewall, you may want to solicit the assistance of a group of early adopters to amp up the initial set of responses to get the feedback loop going.
• If you can't beat them, join them. Before you even start planning new internal services, think whether you need them. Why compete with active, healthy services that already exist?
  

Perhaps it would be cheaper and far more successful to use those existing external services through the firewall as is, instead of setting up competing internal services. For example, rather than setting up blogs internally, think about the alternatives:

• Providing a list of the best internet blogs pertaining to your company's business (including those of your employees)
• Encouraging employees to blog externally and join external professional communities to both further their career and enhance their skills
  
• Aggregating internal news with feeds from external sources to provide more dynamic, objective information to your employees

Corporations are hesitant to "open up" the firewalls and blur the distinction between internal/proprietary and external/public information. But when you are talking about social computing, that blurring of distinctions is one of its key strengths and defining attributes. Why is Twitter popular? Not because I can talk about my private life; because I can talk about whatever parts of my life, private or professional, I choose to.

Smart companies will recognize that the floodgates between internal and external information were breached long ago, without their having any control over it. They also recognize that they can benefit more from encouraging their employees to use this new powerful medium effectively -- and appropriately -- than trying to constrain it within the artificial boundaries of the corporate firewall.

Social Architecture

Patti Anklam recently asked whether we need to define social architecture and if so, how should we do it? I never shy away from defining new terms, as long as:

• The term identifies some meaningful thing or quality
  
• The thing being defined is new and/or unlabeled (and therefore difficult to discuss without some shared terminology)
  
• The term is not completely ambiguous*

My gut feeling is that social architecture would be a good thing to define. That said, let's start with what it is we are defining.

The Definition

Social architecture is the conscious design of an environment that encourages certain social behavior leading towards some goal or set of goals.

By environment I mean a bounded set of physical or virtual structures, functions, or events where people interact.

I say "certain social behavior" because you are designing for specific interactions with the aim of achieving some goal. You are not designing a generic space where people congregate and interact in whatever way they please. (Unless, of course, that will achieve your goal.) You are designing towards some purpose, such as encouraging conservation (wiserEarth) or grassroots sharing of ideas and innovation (barcamps).

On the other hand, I am intentionally vague about what constitutes an "environment". If we are just speaking of digital spaces, then there is very little difference between "social architecture" and "information architecture" or "interaction design". Designers of social software might very well call themselves "social media architects". But that is not inclusive of everything that is needed to instigate and drive social behavior. Barcamp is an example that requires digital spaces to organize, but also a physical space and event logistics to pull off.

There is an ongoing debate within the Enterprise 2.0 community that E2.0 is not just social software inside the firewall. It is a change of culture. Well, that change of culture cannot occur without establishing the appropriate environment to foster it, including a coordinated set of capabilities, recommendations, influences, and incentives. The design of such an environment is social architecture.

Is a Definition Necessary?

Why even bother with a definition? Well, the argument within the Enterprise 2.0 community is a good example of why a new term is needed. I won't go into the details of why discussing changing culture is unproductive -- Venkatesh Rao has done a far better job explaining it than I could do -- suffice it to say that rather than complaining about a resistant culture, designing a system that utilizes inherent social behavior to recognize and reward a different approach is more likely to result in change.

Unfortunately, social media is being applied within corporations as if it were a large hammer, cutting a wide swath through traditional, stovepiped corporate approaches to knowledge. Even when the new applications are well received (which isn't always the case), one of the side effects of this approach is an "us vs. them" mentality. The old approaches are not removed; the new social applications are set up in opposition to them, creating an unnecessary barrier between the traditonalists and new agers. This friction is often amplified by a lack of integration of the social software into the existing corporate infrastructure.

What is needed is a more systematic approach to integrating social applications -- and the activities and interactions they incite -- into the corporate environment. From a technical perspective, this means integrating the content into intranet search and actively feeding social content streams into traditional environments, such as intranet web sites (e.g. the latest Yammer messages on the team site, the employee's blog and Twitter ID becoming part of the corporate whitepages, liveblogging status meetings, etc.) From a operational perspective, structuring the social interactions around meaningful topics and goals helps avoid competing approaches.

This type of coordination does not require extensive resources or a major overhaul of existing systems,. But it does require planning and often a complex set of small, coordinated adjustments to systems and processes. And the best way to describe this approach is social architecture.

As a side note, despite my examples, corporate environments are not the only possible target for social architecture. However, I mention them here because intranets are an area with perhaps the greatest potential use of coordinated architectural approaches because of the need to address deep rooted hierarchical processes.

Ambiguity

We also need to check to see if the new term we are defining is so ambiguous it will be misinterpreted or quickly misused. In other words, is there a better term?

I happen to like social architecture for several reasons:

• It fits well into the lingua franca of social computing, where terms such as social media and social software are already established.
• It is distinct from the existing terminology which tends to focus on either the technology or the content, but not the overall strategy.
• It is relatively intuitive as a term and does not require a significant amount of explanation.
  

On the negative side, there is ambiguity with previous uses of the term within the realm of physical architecture and sociology. (There is at least one reference as far back as 1876.) In physical architecture, the term social architecture tends to refer to the application of architecture towards humantarian aims. Housing for the poor, sustainable architecture practices, and designing for larger social goals all seem to fall within this category. The Wikipedia entry on social architecture is a stub referring to social structures, a sociological concept not too far from the environments and goals discussed in my definition.

Although there is ambiguity here, it does not seriously invalidate the use of the term in reference to web-based systems. More importantly, there is sufficient crossover between the definitions to to avoid direct conflict.

Existing Usage

Finally, I make no claim of originality in defining social architecture. Besides the use of the term in other fields, there are already a number of references to it as applied directly to social software and the internet:

• Stowe Boyd defined it in 2005. Although he appears to define it as an existant state ("the foundation of the blogosphere") rather than as a specific activity.
• Sam Huweatt describes it in his blog. His definition is very similar to what I outline above. He also makes a distinction between social architecture and social media architects.
• Christina Wodtke lists the elements of social architecture in her book Blueprints for the Web (summarized in A List Apart).
• In his slide presentation on Social Architecture: Modeling the Next Generation, Sean Madden makes the point that "social networks have limitless potential but we need to work towards designing them that way."
• Amy Jo Kim, in her bio, defines herself as designing "social games and social architecture[s]". Her book Community Building on the Web pre-dates much of what we now consider social software, but is still the pre-eminent text on designing for social interaction. She also calls her blog "Musings of a Social Architect".
  

I take these all as good signs that the term is both useful and sufficiently clear in its meaning. On the other hand, there are at least two other uses that do conflict.

There are a number of people (in particular, Ryan Turner) who use the alternate term "web information architecture" to define much the same thing as I defined as social architecture. My preference for the shorter term comes from the fact that "web", by this point in time, is pretty much redundant. Almost all information and interaction in modern life now involves the web to at least some extent. But at the same time, as I mentioned in the definition, not all activity involving social architecture is web based (for example meetups, Big Urban Games, and barcamps).

There is also at least one case where social architecture is equated to an existing term (Information Architecture = Social Architecture). Although this is well-intentioned, I believe it is inherently wrong. Not all information is social (in the social media sense) and at least some aspects of information architecture -- such as navigation and metadata definition -- that are determinative, not social. And not all social interaction design can be considered a part of information architecture. They are definitely related fields, but not identical.

*I'm sure others would go for more precision, such as "not ambiguous". But if that were the criteria we would define almost nothing.