The Horizon Report, 2010 edition, is out.

Four key trends as key drivers of technology adoptions in higher education, 2010 through 2015

  • The abundance of resources and relationships made easily accessible via the Internet is increasingly challenging educators to revisit their roles in sense-making, coaching, and credentialing.
  • People expect to be able to work, learn, and study whenever and wherever they want to.
  • The technologies we use in education are increasingly cloud-based, and our notions of IT support are decentralized.
  • The work of students is increasingly seen as collaborative by nature, and there is more cross-campus collaboration between departments.

Technologies to watch

The annual Horizon Report describes the continuing work of the New Media Consortium’s Horizon Project, a qualitative research project established in 2002 that identifies and describes emerging technologies likely to have a large impact on teaching, learning, or creative inquiry on college and university campuses within the next five years. The 2010 Horizon Report is the seventh in the series and is produced as part of an ongoing collaboration between the New Media Consortium (NMC) and the EDUCAUSE Learning Initiative (ELI), an EDUCAUSE program.

Survival

There is a certain survival nature in our proclivity toward pictorial information. Being able to accurately assess one’s situation at a glance is an important factor for defending as well as foraging, whether in the forest or the city.

It is interesting that Internet development was a response to a threat to global survival,  Bill Washburn once mentioned to me, I think it was around 1995, when we both worked for Mecklermedia (Jupiter Media), the company that created the original Internet World Trade Shows and Internet World publications.  The net, he said,  provides the impetus and the media and the fertile field for visual language development. It was developed to thrive in a leaderless, anarchic  world. (I hope we’re not going there.)

Shared visual experience

Anyone who travels a bit witnesses a multiplicity of common visual cues. Of course there’s the welcome red and white stripe of a Coke sign, signaling refreshment nearby, only one among the many product brands which have become visually ubiquitous and a shorthand for other kinds of information. Signage systems tending toward the uniform have been implemented in transportation arteries.

Of course, there are the common visual cues we’ve always shared as a result of the experience of living on the same planet: sky, sun, stars, trees, rocks, animals, etc. People around the world share more visual experience than at any previous time. With the proliferation of electronic media, this trend is accelerating.

Evolving through data visualization

Our increasing ability to create — and read — visualizations of large, complex, many-dimensional data sets is a manifestation of how we are evolving the “thinking layer” of the planet, as Tielhard de Chardin calls it, which I am assuming is an evolutionary step forward.

As this abstract, thinking layer of the Internet develops and evolves, individuals gain in freedom of choice. And as they make more and more choices, they become ever more themselves.

About the images, top to bottom:  the shadow of a utility pole against the neighboring apartment building at sunset,  a cell phone credit company sign in rural Jamaica, twisted vines in rural Michigan, a section of a data visualization I made to illustrate the relationships between several dozen databases of customer information at Orbitz Worldwide.

Not so long ago, when content was more of a novelty, words, pictures and numbers in sequence were called “information.” But that’s a misnomer today. Most of the river of symbols that flows through our lives is actually misinformation, because it doesn’t inform. More usually it overwhelms or stupefies or passes by without making much of a dent. At the very least it’s often stuff of incredibly low meaning (my outdoor mailbox) or merely entertaining (most television.)

Information only happens when it informs. Symbolic representations of ideas and analysis, whether marked on paper or HTML-coded, can be called information only when they are meaningful to an audience which is somehow prepared to receive them.

How can you ensure a resonant field for your message? In other words, how can you create that truly rare commodity, information?

It takes two to tango. You have stuff you believe someone may need or want. But the audience must have the appropriate hardware, software and wetware toolkits to process that stuff. You can help by providing them with tools and/or services, or an intellectual context that makes content meaningful enough to be called “information.”

As Jose Arguelles has said, “The essence of information, then, is not its content but its resonance.”

Beneath a change of age lies a change of thought. – Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Vote for my SXSW presentation at http://panelpicker.sxsw.com/ideas/view/5683

I agree about the banana, but I’m not so sure about the arrow. Not everyone conceptualizes time as a relentless hurtling forward.  Some cultures understand time as a fractal, a spiral, a mandala, or a cycle.  We have body time, clock time, and Deep Time.  Short-term orientation is the norm for some cultures; others emphasize investing for the future, patience and perseverance.

Visualizing temporality is a fundamental issue in interaction design today. Our beliefs about time and its passage profoundly affect the design of software and interactive media. It’s time for interaction designers to understand deeply how our customers know time, whether as an arrow, a spiral or a squiggle.  How people slice and dice nature into concepts is fundamental to designing tools people can use to successfully live on the earth.


1. What is the shape of time?

As interaction designers, do we know what mental models our customers use to represent the experience of time?

Calendars, clocks and other models of time often are designed with the understanding that time is a forward-moving arrow, moving from a past moment when time began, to a future end of time.

Three arrows of time are described by theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking. “First, there is the thermodynamic arrow of time, the direction of time in which disorder or entropy increases. Then, there is the psychological arrow of time. This is the direction in which we feel time passes, the direction in which we remember the past but not the future.

NASA diagram of the expanding universe

Finally, there is the cosmological arrow time. This is the direction of time in which the universe is expanding rather than contracting.”

It all sounds very logical, doesn’t it?

That is, it’s logical to the Western, English-speaking scientific mind.  However, not everyone conceptualizes time as a relentless hurtling forward and onward?

There are some cultures which believe in a linear time, but as an arrow which rushes backwards toward us from the future. Business people may think of a calendar day as broken up into quarter-hour calendar chunks. I remember that when I was a child, my days were single seamless instants.

José Argüelles’ T’zolkin calendar

The ancient Mayans described time as an interlocking grid of precise intervals between states of being, diagramming this grid as a double helix. The interval between integers is the state of chaos, the matrix for creative activity.

Time has been described as being like a river. A river flows from a source, and at the mouth, it unites with a larger body of water, which eventually evaporates into clouds, from which fall rain, from which rivers form. So if time is like a river, it is both linear and cyclical, with recurring celebrations of Blue Mondays and Harvest moons, birthdays and wedding anniversaries, Beltaine and Christmas.

I grew up with clocks that told the story that time is round, but perhaps it is more like a spiral, because each time the hour hand revolves, we find ourselves in a new, entirely different day. Some believe in reincarnation, a theory which posits that people are reborn higher or lower on the spiral of life, according to one’s behavior.

The founder of the Foundation for the Law of Time, José Argüelles, has suggested that time could be viewed as a mandala, a “field of resonance” or a fractal.  Metaphysician, ethnobotanist and art historian Terence McKenna pictured time as a “holographic medium” in which we are embedded like “biological oscillators”.  Tielhard de Chardin, who was a French philosopher, Jesuit priest, paleontologist and geologist, spoke of the space/time continuum as having a “convergent nature”, with an “Omega point” of involution.

And some people understand time as boundary-less, with no moment of Creation and no end.

Me, at the tail end of an 18-hour flight, still one hour and fifteen minutes from home.

2. What’s the difference between local time and body time?

As interaction designers, how can we differentiate the personal experience of time from clock time?

Stephen Hawking has said that “…In the theory of relativity there is no unique absolute time, but instead each individual has his own personal measure of time that depends on where he is and how he is moving.” A person taking a long international trip is intensely concerned with specific local clock times and calendar dates, in order to catch planes, arrive at reserved hotel rooms, and rent cars at times when car rental locations are open. However, simultaneously, they are in a new kind of time – body time, which is the aggregate response of one’s own biology to the shifting temporal landscape of travel.  For example, I remember arriving in Paris at “breakfast time” when my own body was desperately pleading for “bedtime”.  No one will argue that the personal experience of time is highly subjective, and varies from culture to culture. As Rainer Maria Rilke wrote, “… the clocks move separately from our authentic time.”

3. How can we make the time?

As architects of the experience of time, what raw materials do we have to work with?

We are creative beings. To create is to fundamentally transform raw materials, yielding random and unpredictable results. One of those raw materials we can transform is our perception of time – and our perception of time is all there is to time.

Writer and teacher Alice Bailey said, “…time is the sequence of events and of states of consciousness as registered by the physical brain. Where no physical brain exists, what humanity understands by time is nonexistent.”  In other words, if a tree falls in the forest and there is no observation of its descent, it fell in no time.   Time is a construct, so it doesn’t have an intrinsic shape. It only has the shape we assign it. As we learn to think and behave with more complexity, we give our time more fantastic shapes.

Time and space are dynamic — our choices and behaviors are the algorithms which determine the patterns which are generated.

International travelers at the Miami airport, 2009, making their own time

4. Have I been around long enough to know that you’re the one I want to go through time with?

How can we design interactive experiences of time which attract and engage?

Online travel aggregators such as Kayak, Orbitz, Travelocity and Expedia, and post-booking travel planning sites like TripIt and Dopplr are exploring the best way represent different kinds of time. They are devising date pickers and time pickers. They are investigating ways to represent overall elapsed time, time between flights, flight time, time zone changes, probability of delay, trip segment time, depart/return time, preferred times, requested times, times that are in or out of company policy.  Many other web applications, smartphone applications, games and other interactive media are also exploring the frontiers of time visualization.

With a web browser page, we are trapped in the Deep Present. In my industry, the idea is to cram as much functionality as possible into the web page, giving the visitor a bewildering variety of choices, keeping them immersed in your slice of time. Many software conventions have been invented to add depth and dimension to the present moment – dropdown and popup menus, tabbed or hierarchical menus, microcontent, popups, slideouts – but, in truth, everything you see is confined to the screen, and that screen is your Present. A Deep Present, but now, now, now.  The past and the future cannot be reliably available the way they are with a book or any printed object, which are built in a left-to-right arrow-of-time manner. Books, in a very tangible way, give one simultaneous access to the present, the page I am reading; the past, the pages I have already read; and the future, which consists of pages I have not yet read.

Since screen real estate is limited, if we want to get the most bang for the buck out of the interactive experience, we must work to expand time for the user. This is a reasonable project.

The luscious twilight at Grandma and Grandpa’s farm in Ontario

When we were very young, and wanted to go out into the luscious twilight and play, a dinner hour could seem like an eternity. As an adult, that same span of time can fly while making love or having an intense conversation. The experience of time is relative, and variable according to the perceptions of the observer. This is a tool which can be played with by the interaction designer.

What makes a kid play with the same toy, over and over again?


5. Is this a good time?

Why should interaction designers turn their attention to the study of time visualization now?

We need to be thoughtful and conscious as we design the representation of time, for our beliefs about time and its passage profoundly affect the design of software and systems, interfaces and visual identity. What goes on in the window is, like spoken and written language, both a mirror of our Selves and deep shaper of our daily lives.

We have a recent example of inadequate attention to the issue of time in the field of software development.  The Year 2000 problem, or “millennium bug”, was the result of inadequate attention to the issue of time, in the infancy of software development.  As a result, data was trapped in two-digit date formats, and many were challenged convert to four-digit format before the end of 1999.

The representation of temporality is the fundamental issue in interaction design today.  For example, one issue is how to design for both Eastern and Western audiences, who differ in the cultural trait described by Dutch anthropologist Geert Hofstede, the Long- versus Short-term Orientation. This trait describes to what extent the group invests for the future, is persevering, and is patient in waiting for results. China is said to lead this dimension, followed by Hong Kong and Taiwan. The United States is seventeenth.

As an interaction designer with an online travel company, I want to know how our customers think of time, whether as an arrow, a spiral or a squiggle.  How people slice and dice nature into concepts is fundamental to designing tools people can use to successfully navigate our spinning earth.

The one-liner, “Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.” is by Groucho Marx,  an American comedian who lived from 1890 to 1977.

The painting of the dripping watch is by Salvador Dali.

The poster at the top of this post is unattributed; if anyone knows the source, please let me know.

Most of the photos were taken by myself, and the one of me, disgruntled at the end of my trip to Jamaica last fall, was taken by my amused husband.

This diagram is loosely based on something we had tacked on our cubicle walls when I worked for Daimler-Chrysler’s elearning division about five years ago.

These layers are not necessarily in any meaningful order, although I think it is sensible to begin with learning objectives, and of course, usability is paramount.

PDF file of LxD layers diagram

Suppose you want to know the characteristics of a specific learner group.   Research methodologies from the field of software design can be effectively adopted for such research, either before or during the design phase, in user research, and then again after you have designed and built a learning system, or a course, during usability testing.

  • User research can create knowledge by validating existing theories through deductive reasoning in the positivist style, or can provide a base for the creation of  new theories through inductive reasoning. This is the interpretive approach. Or finally, you can simply describe what you have observed, in the style of phenomenologists.
  • Usability testing, after design and development, validates the design against real life users. It is technocratic, the researcher being the expert, and research questions emerge from sponsors of the research. You can apply this research to your practice. Or you can use a transcendent process  to evolve new principles and theories via an inductive process.

Both user research and usability testing pull tools from the same toolbox—quantitative tools such as online surveys and web analytics, and qualitative research tools such as:

  • prototype reviews,
  • card-sorting exercises,
  • informal listening labs,
  • ethnographic task shadowing,
  • heuristic analysis,
  • one-on-one structured interviews, and
  • focus groups.

A few months ago I was asked to build a taxonomy for a new wiki portal for informal learning.  The portal was to be an authoritative source of information, knowledge and wisdom for the practioners of our flavor of the Agile software development process.

For content research, I had access to an existing wiki portal which had developed and grown organically. The existing portal was open, and anyone could add, delete or comment on any page. It included a preliminary glossary of Agile terms, consultant documents, team home pages, and much more. Our user research revealed that many learners hesitated to go to the existing portal for information because it was hard to navigate, inconsistent in nomenclature and definitions of terms, and because their feeds showed them that the portal information changed almost every day, every time someone added something new to it.  How can a portal be trusted as a source of truth when it keeps changing? some asked. However, it is the nature of the Agile process to be…well, Agile.

Nonetheless, I needed to find out what were the main buckets into which our learners tended to cognitively toss different aspects of their Agile work.

I began by creating my own high-level categories for the taxonomy, by analyzing what I had seen on the exiting portal. I used Google Analytics, ethnographic field studies (talking to people around the office), and my own thought processes, to come up with this first list of category names:

  • Key Agile concepts
  • Processes/phases of Agile
  • Agile tools
  • Roles and responsibilities
  • Job aids

Then, under each category name, I listed Agile-related terms used on the existing portal, and in the literature of Agile. Then I removed the buckets, and listed all of those terms alphabetically. I had about a hundred terms. The terms were evaluated by several subject matter experts. A few terms were removed as being unimportant to the process, and a few terms were added.

Our internal usability person, let’s call her Grace, conducted five in-person interviews with a people from different teams and with different levels of Agile expertise. She wanted to see what the gaps in knowledge were.

Next, Grace set up a twenty-minute test on WebSort, an online card sorting tool.

Grace emailed an encouraging email to selected respondents, and gave them a deadline. After the date had passed, I walked around the company and visited the people who had not yet completed the test, and invited them to do so.

The test instructions asked respondents to sort my list of 100 terms into categories, and give each category a name.

After the results were in, we analyzed them. Our respondents agreed strongly on certain items being grouped together. Some of their categories matched mine closely, while others didn’t match my groupings at all. The respondents were fuzzy, disagreed, or lacked knowledge around how to group some Agile terms, however. This was useful information to pass on to the people in charge of Agile learning in general.

Grace created a spreadsheet which conveyed our key findings, which we shared with the people who had asked me to do create the taxonomy. We hammered out definitions for some of the terms where our respondents had had disagreed, or just plain didn’t know what to say, so that we were clear about the meanings of most of the key terms.

After we had discussed what we saw, I locked myself in a small room with my laptop and a supply of Diet Cokes. Some time later, I emerged with an eight-page outline numbered taxonomy. This was basically a content outline for the portal, which also could serve as a framework for developing a training program for new developers. My main content buckets did not match what I had started with, nor did they match exactly what the card sort respondents had given me, but that had all been good fuel to create a taxonomy that I felt would be very useful.

While I was at it, I created a rough draft of a glossary which was an attempt to capture all the term definitions I had gained an understanding of over the past several weeks.  I also provided a sitemap and a wireframe which showed a homepage structure for the new portal. One of my top recommendations was that one specific person be presented in the role of “Agile authority” on the portal home page. Another recommendation was that some key pages on the portal be locked down, and that only the “authority” could make changes to them, with the caveat that as our Agile process evolved, Mr. Authority would have to update those pages in a timely way, or else risk losing credibility again.  Much of the existing portal content could be repurposed but some new content needed to be written, and so two tech writers were added to the project. One of the Agile implementation team members took over the task of actually building the portal, which is looking slick in our Confluence Wiki. They are all still at work, but they have done an awesome job of adhering to the spirit of my taxonomy, while adding their own enhancements.

Now, that’s Agile.

Tim found his childhood bike in his dad's woods

Time travel has always been an implicit function of media.

A book gives us tangible access to the past, present and future. The way in which a book is constructed reflects the way we Westerners view time. For we consider time to be an arrow targeting the future, which in our culture is in the right-hand direction; while the past is the shaft of the arrow to our left.

While reading a page of a book, or any print media, I am always in the present on the page I am reading, yet I have ready access to both the past (pages I have already read) and the future (pages I have not yet read). In fact, I hold past, present and future in my very hands.  I can feel the weight and heft of the book and can even see the edges of the pages. I can easily and quickly see any page I want to see.

On the other hand, the browser, the electronic book reader, and the web application tend to extend the duration of the present moment.  These offer the promise of time travel, but haphazardly deliver. A dead battery, a failed connection, the wrong password, and you are trapped in the present and cannot do anything about it. It’s like listening to a public speaker with a stammer. In attempting to surf on a wave of information, one experiences not simply a gap, but an expectation that is not filled, creating an unpleasant experience of duration, leading to frustration.

The sense is one of being trapped in the present time, poised to move forward, but stymied.

When we go “back”, we don’t really go back in time. We’ve gone into the future by reading history.

The real problem, however, is that applications and sites are currently architected and designed according to the “time as arrow” paradigm, whereas folks in general are moving rapidly towards a “simultaneous time” state of mind. For how we live in time is a mass hallucination, which, like all forms of information, evolves. But that’s another story.

Sometimes when I draw a Rich Picture, I will use the term “soft information”.

“Hard information” includes verifiable data and knowledge.

So, soft information includes feelings, perceptions, opinions, values—which are often the key to project success or failure. For example, with a project I am currently working on, four information architects are working together in a team, with their manager. Here’s some soft information about our project:

  • Our manager seems to value getting some concept wireframes done fast.
  • It seems like all the team members value understanding the nuances of the big picture, doing a competitive analysis, a gap analysis, etc. etc., before creating concept wireframes.
  • One of the team members has feelings around the fact that he’s going skiing for a week right in the middle of this project.
  • For my part, I’m excited about the work but I perceive that our stakeholders may be a shifting group, so I’m a little apprehensive about which direction to take with my work.
  • The company values the Agile method.
  • One of our stakeholders is of the opinion that we should be conservative in our concepts.

You get the idea.  These feelings, perceptions, opinions and values are pretty important to the project. Yet typically, when putting together a list of project parameters, these kinds of soft information are disregarded, or not even noticed in the first place.

It’s the mix of the hard and soft information that puts the “rich” in Rich Picture.

In case you missed my recent post on the subject, a Rich Picture is a cartoon-like diagram which you can draw in order to:

  • find out about the problem situation
  • create a preliminary mental model of the situation.

Usually, when I draw a Rich Picture, I’m the only one who ever sees it — because they are messy and too hard to explain. Occasionally I’ll show my Rich Picture to other team members, if I’ve cleaned it up enough for public consumption. Once in awhile I’ve drawn a Rich Picture on the whiteboard in a team meeting, to walk a team through my mental processes as a begin a new project.

I use the menomic “COW TEA” to help myself remember the elements of a Rich Picture.

C: Customers or users: the people who will use the system you are making

O: Owner(s), the person(s) with the power to make approvals or cancel actions

W: World view, or some kind of overall perspective on the project

T: Transformation of inputs into outputs, the core activity, or the primary change to be brought about. In other words, “We are going to build a system to <x>”

E: Environment, or factors which impact the project, such as time and resources

A: Actors, or performers of tasks on the project

Peter Checkland introduced the concept of the Rich Picture in 1981 in his book Systems Thinking, Systems Practice, the textbook on his soft systems approach to creating solutions to human problems.

Donald R. Woods, professor emeritus of chemical engineering at McMaster University, has done quite a lot of research into what different MBTI types consider to be good exam questions.  Don is perhaps most widely known as a pioneer of McMaster’s distinctive learning strategies: inquiry and problem-based learning. I ran across a reference to his article, Models for Learning and How They’re Connected–Relating Bloom, Jung, and Perry, which was published in the Journal of College Science Teaching, v22, n4 p250-54, Feb. 1993.  After spending half an hour hunting around on ERIC and in various university libraries, I could not find a source, so I dug up his email address on the internet and just contacted him directly.

I’m working with the learning aspects of our travel web site. I was interested to know how to correlate MBTI types to the levels on Bloom’s Taxonomy . I had the idea of associating the categories I came up with to differences in the types of questions people might have when they come to the web site.

Don promptly responded with helpful information.

Sensing/Thinking (ST), which is 30% of the US population, includes ISTP, ESTP, ESTJ, and ISTJ. They ask questions on the Knowledge/Remember level of Bloom’s taxonomy. Questions like, What does it cost to check a bag? What is an e-ticket?

Intuiting/thinking (NT), which is 10.4% of the US population, includes ENTJ, INTJ, ENTP, and INTP. They want to Understand (Bloom’s second level), and appreciate questions that ask them to compare and contrast.

Intuiting/Feeling (NF), which is 16.3% of the US population, prefer Evaluation questions (what if?)

Most interesting to me is the Sensing/Feeling group, which comprises 43.4% of the US population. They want to know, “How would I feel if…?” and this is not usually the type of question that is addressed in a scholastic exam or on a travel web site:

  • How would I feel if I choose this trip A compared with trip B?
  • Would I be at ease in this hotel room?
  • Would I be happy if I choose this car?
  • How comfortable would I feel if I choose this airline seat?

However, the use of sensory information such as rich media, video, sound, images, diagrams and visualizations of data speaks powerfully to this type of sensing/feeling person, which, if you give credence to this type of analysis, comprises a huge chunk of any potential audience of learners.