Reputation Online

Shame by marcandrelariviere on flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/marcandrelariviere/3251428624/

'Shame' by marcandrelariviere on flickr (cc-by-nc-nd)

Recently, Michael Arrington posted on TechCrunch to suggest that as more and more details of our lives are discoverable online, “indiscretions” would become less damaging. His basic point was that

Trying to control, or even manage, your online reputation is becoming increasingly difficult. And much like the fight by big labels against the illegal sharing of music, it will soon become pointless to even try.

He called his article “Reputation is Dead.” That’s a strong statement by itself. The availability of information about people who are hardly celebrities is trending way up, but that doesn’t mean reputation is gone. People will respond to what is available and judge people as they always have, though Arrington may turn out to be right about college party photos becoming a less significant reputation factor when many of the reputation judges are pictured in some as well.

However, reputation in the abstract will remain an important part of identity online. How it is measured changes with the situation. For example, in the early days of Twitter, perhaps through Ashton Kutcher beating out CNN in a race to a million followers, you might legitimately measure somebody’s influence by how many people followed them. But as “fluff” accounts and services offering “guaranteed” methods to buy more followers proliferated, people stopped measuring one’s worth directly by follower count. Instead, now we look at who is on lists made by those we respect and find good people when they are retweeted or #followfriday’d into our timelines. These methods still rely on evaluating reputation, but they might not take college photos of that user into account. Respect is spread through others whom you already respect.

When trying to judge a stranger’s (or job candidate’s) reputation, today we might use a Google search on their name. Arrington suspects that in the future, such a search would turn up embarrassing images, gossip, and smears posted by others along with one’s website or blog, Facebook or LinkedIn profile. The picture of this person is made up of these elements, according to Google. But how does Google decide what to put on the first page of results? The algorithm attempts to sort out the most important and “relevant” links, and sorts them in front of pages that aren’t as “important.” While the PageRank algorithm is evolving, especially to include more real-time information, Google’s primary tool to judge relevance is the number of other pages in the index that linked to the first. Hence, when you search for somebody, you probably will first see the pages about them that other people think are important, and less likely to see those that were not worthy of a link or a retweet.

For transgressions of community standards that are not under the jurisdiction of law enforcement norms of society govern which “indiscretions” are important enough to gossip about. When people violate norms, one option available to the community is public exposure of the violation. Through embarrassment, the violator is encouraged not to do it again. But the traces of the shaming linger long after, scattered around the Internet. College party photos may get enough chatter and relinking to make them relevant in a search, depending on factors that include the values of the people who see them, what they think the significance is for the person photographed, and how funny it is. (Michael Phelps’ party photo scandal was a lot more significant than people who aren’t celebrities). Individuals decide when a photo is worthy of a retweet based on a gut reaction that takes into account the severity of the action and the reputation of the transgressor. I wrote about how norms are enforced on the Internet through this sort of gut check in my thesis (section 4.7) about reusing others ideas. My example there was that people have an innate sense of when an appropriation of somebody else’s work is simply a “rip-off.” When people sense that somebody has ripped off the work of somebody else, the Internet-connected response is to make a little noise about it, by reposting the evidence, by joining a Facebook group bringing attention to the issue, or simply echoing somebody else who did so. Whenever something like this happens, the transgression gets magnified and becomes more relevant in search results for that person. If a prominent figure is responsible, it might even find its way into a “controversy” section of his or her Wikipedia entry.

An example of norms in action online is the recent controversy over the Itawamba Agricultural High School in Fulton, MS denying a lesbian student from bringing her date to prom. Besides an ACLU court case, thousands of people posted about it online. The traces of the scandal now dominate the Google search record and will probably occupy a space in the Itawamba School District’s Wikipedia page for decades. The school’s actions went against the values of so many people on the Internet that they felt compelled to post about how outrageous they felt it was. This is the reaction to events that are seen as significant. Relatively minor incidents like the party photo of a non-celebrity in an age where there are increasingly findable party photos of anybody is unlikely to provoke such a widespread response. Arrington may be right that if it seems like “everybody is doing it,” the significance of minor indiscretions become less significant and less likely to be relinked and gain damaging prominence.

One prominent response to Michael Arrington’s post was Fred Wilson’s, which argued that building a reputation online through social media is the key to combating smears. One of his examples of this point is that people who know you will defend you if you are unreasonably attacked. While it becomes easier to slander somebody online and make that perspective visible, people who have a strong Internet presence that highlights their capabilities, experience, and knowledge, that information will remain the bulk of the relevant results on a Google search about you, because it is where most of the action is. As gossip about an old picture of you fades after a few days, your online career continues through all the posts, comments, tweets, and conversations you produce. At some point this outweighs minor “indiscretions.”

Perhaps on the Internet, the lesson is that you should be yourself, yet conscious of how you make the presentation. Your true value will shine through if you keep letting it shine, even if your online presence has a few blemishes. However, when you are posting or retweeting to shame someone or an institution, be intentional about the norms you want to build and try not to go crazy over what is insignificant in the long term.

CCK09: On the difficulty of the Connectivist revolution.

This post is for assignment #1 for Stephen Downes and George Siemens Connectivism and Connective Knowledge course, 2009.

Connectivism represents a new way of knowing. But if it is correct, it is the way we have been knowing all along, and may not require a leap across an enormous gap to adapt to the new theory. Stephen Downes summarizes connectivism as “the thesis that knowledge is distributed across a network of connections,” which means learning “consists of the ability to construct and traverse those networks” (“What Connectivism Is”). This is a revolutionary thought, denying at once that a piece of knowledge is an object that may be transferred from one to another and that knowledge can be pinned down to representations of it in language.

In a world connected by the Internet, I think it is becoming increasingly clear that one facet of connectivism is true: knowledge is distributed across the network. This point by itself is easy to accept, but the broader point that knowledge does not rest in the heads of individuals is harder to, as we used to say, wrap one’s head around. In fact this metaphor of enclosing knowledge in an individual brain is not a connectivist metaphor. Instead, a knowledge-seeker must visualize connecting up with knowledge, or growing out into it. The edges of knowledge are not defined by the skull, but are rhizomatic and spread outwards to other nodes in the network (See“Rhizomatic Knowledge” article by Dave Cormier).

Some will make the transition to new connectivist metaphors, while others, especially those who are not deeply integrated into communities of practice with connectivists, will stick to traditional metaphors describing knowledge as a commodity they possess in their heads. Fortunately, I think it is possible to work and learn with people who do not subscribe to this theory. Even among those who do not believe in connectivism or have not become acquainted with it (including those who don’t think much about theories of knowledge), connectivist techniques may be applied in connection with them. What might appear to an uninitiated learner as a transfer of knowledge would be represented by connectivism as a new connection to a knowledge network. Certainly a teacher knowledgeable in connectivism will approach the task of teaching differently, but would a student unfamiliar with the theory recognize that their guide is more connecting them up to the nodes of their own learning network than transferring static knowledge? I think the experience would feel like “learning,” as the student has become familiar with. Not “learning” in the sense of getting drilled for recitation of “facts”, but authentic learning, complete with the feeling of connection to understanding and community.

Connectivism posits that knowledge is “subsymbolic,” below the level of language. Language is a system of reference to concepts in the network that allows users to communicate and build structures of that knowledge, but words do not refer to absolute objects of knowledge. Knowledge is personal, relative to one’s network connections and what one has become familiar with. The set of nodes they are connected to in a network graph determines their “perspective” and what knowledge is available for reference by language. The example, “Paris is the Capital of France,” only represents knowledge in that those who are connected to the concepts of states and their governments can use this referent to call up these structures that exist in the network between people. After all, even the borders of France are not things that exist in the physical world, but agreements between many who have connected to the concepts of sovereign states. Even without knowing connectivist theory, people are able to access this knowledge.

I’ll offer a final example to clarify why I think that while connectivism represents a large revolution in knowledge, but when classrooms and communities begin shifting to using connectivist theory consciously as they attempt to spread (grow rather than transfer) knowledge will not impose a difficult transition on those in the network who do not subscribe to the theory. It is the matter of the interpretation of artifacts of knowledge, such as a story in a book.

An author writes a text from his or her own perspective in the network, accessing concepts and referring to them with language that are shared in his or her community. It is inevitable that the text spreads beyond the author’s perspective, because even another node in the author’s network is connected to a different set of nodes than the author. As people with different perspectives access the text, they interpret its meaning into concepts they are familiar with (concepts in their network). When an author writes about learning, connectivists understand this reference differently than constructivists, applying the concepts of their own network to it. Thus, interpretation of a particular artifact is a shared phenomenon, but an individuals interpretation depends on their placement within the network. Familiarity with a particular set of perspectives colors an individuals interpretation of a knowledge artifact. When somebody who doesn’t believe connectivist theory applies their personal knowledge to a new artifact of knowledge, a connectivist would be able to read this as growth of knowledge (connections) in the network.

An example of this process occurred to me recently as I listened to a presentation on was the issue of queer identification with superheroes (University of Oregon Understanding Superheroes Conference, 23 October 2009). The presenter asked the question, “Is Batman gay?” She pointed out that there is no definite answer to this question. Many authors have approached the Batman character, portraying their own visions within the structure laid out by DC. Batman gets into some pretty hairy situations with Robin, but the question of the interpretation of his sexuality is typically outside the author’s conception and in the realm of interpretation by diverse networks of readers. The identification of “queer moments” in Batman depends on a reader’s connection to a network where that interpretation is familiar. Just as one would only be able to apply a Marxist analysis to an argument if one is familiar with Marxism and those who offer that perspective. Connecting is practice. By doing it, one grows connections (knowledge). Practicing connection enables pattern recognition, enabling wider variety of pattern recognition and interaction as learners expands their network. Adapting to connectivist theory doesn’t involve a drastically different form of practice than learners have engaged in already. For the most part, a connectivist understanding applies to the learning activity nonconnectivists do. Once people have adopted a connectivist understanding, however, they can tailor their practices to actively attempt to grow understanding in their network and expand their network toward people and perspectives that align with their interests and experience, reaping greater benefits.