Not So Wiki![1]
As is so often the case with anything to do
with the Internet, it is the unseen that usually holds the most intrigue and significance. What was evident to Jason Mittell debating in
support of Wikipedia at Middlebury College back in 2007 (Debate video), is still true five
years later; it is the underside of this ubiquitous online encyclopedia that potentially
provides a rich pedagogical experience.
I have long been a conspicuous user of
Wikipedia myself, despite the harsh use warnings, and mainly for the same reasons
cited by both Amy Morsman and Jason, who we hear at the outset of the debate,
agree on a great deal. Unlike any static
historic text Wikipedia brings together an almost limitless number of enthusiastic
community participants to craft and re-craft an entry and to get new
information into the public realm “wikily”.
Wikipedia is extremely accessible and it does not pretend to be
something it is not. It is also likely to have information that would not be avaiable anywhere else in print that can help you get your bearings on a topic before delving into it. Both Morsman and
Mittell embrace Wikipedia as a good or at least fair place to start historical
research. Morsman stops there and underlines
that even though it might be a place to start, students of history should
really be beyond any kind of encyclopedia and ought to be reaching at the
outset of their research for the more scholarly and reliable monographs, peer
review journals and primary sources.
Mittell, however, has found a way to harness
the great crowd sourcing machine of Wikipedia to his own ends, challenging his
students to use the utility of the site for their own development as writers and
thinkers by engaging in the “talk” discussions that occur “behind the scenes”. I had never thought to take a look behind the
curtain before since my own use of Wikipedia is usually focused on getting a
quick bearing on a topic or looking for information that I won’t find in a
scholarly work.
For the purpose of investigating his
challenge I took a look at three sites:
As a Yorkshire native it was fascinating to me
to read in the news this month that the lost skeleton of the controversial Richard III,
monster, or much-maligned King of England, had possibly been exhumed in an
archeological dig in a Leicester parking lot. In fact investigating this Wikipedia page thoroughly I realize that they do maintain some conventions of scholarly standards with footnotes
and a long bibliography. On the back end of the page the discussion between editors is engaged and collegiate, if a little contentious, since
mystery still surrounds this short-lived king, his actions and motivations. Thoughts are given to adding the new
information about finding his body, which indeed has been included and which
promises updates as results come in from DNA testing. Questions are asked and either agreement is reached or heated differences are aired.
Another
lively debate ensues on the Wikipedia pages supporting the article
“Desegregation Bussing in the United States”.
Suggestions are made, some are taken, ideas are tried out, accusations
of bias are stated, modifications are suggested and inaccuracies are
challenged. The to and fro of this
“forum” suggests a kind of digital live historiography lab where contenders can
interact directly. Engagement here really could be a valuable experience for students of history and it is a rare opportunity to engage with equal rights and a sense of belonging in historic debate. Of course, it is the open market place of discussion, so the standards will inevitably vary, but that does not discount it as an exercise in rallying your argument, stating it clearly and exercising your critical skills.
My last
example is particularly interesting because it itself became a topic of debate
when a scholar eminent in his field, Timothy Messer Kruse, tried to edit the
site to reflect his own cutting edge research.
In this case his research was in fact too new to get through the “gate”
of Wikipedia’s own standards, which are built partly on a critical consensus of
opinion. The case became famous when it
did the rounds of the media, who enjoyed the opportunity to highlight
Wikipedia’s problems with accuracy and governance.[2]
In the September 3rd edition of The Chronicle for Higher Education an article teases, "Historians Ask the Public to Help Organize the Past, But Is the crowd up to it?" (http://chronicle.com/article/Historians-Ask-the-Public-to/134054/) Crowdsourcing the transcription of mountains of documents in various depositories is catching on as a way to improve access, build an engaged audience and save money.
I end with three old sayings:
"Many hands make light work" but "too many cooks spoil the broth" and
"The proof is in the pudding"
In the September 3rd edition of The Chronicle for Higher Education an article teases, "Historians Ask the Public to Help Organize the Past, But Is the crowd up to it?" (http://chronicle.com/article/Historians-Ask-the-Public-to/134054/) Crowdsourcing the transcription of mountains of documents in various depositories is catching on as a way to improve access, build an engaged audience and save money.
I end with three old sayings:
"Many hands make light work" but "too many cooks spoil the broth" and
"The proof is in the pudding"
[1]
Ward Cunningham is attributed with coining Wiki (which in Hawaii denotes
“quick”) as an Internet term in 1995, http://c2.com/doc/etymology.html
[2] http://www.npr.org/2012/02/22/147261659/gauging-the-reliability-of-facts-on-wikipedia
