Introduction

Abstract:

Despite the rapid emergence of information and communication technologies (ITCs) and the declaration of the dawn of new information and knowledge societies, we still have questions that cannot be answered. Why cannot search engines and other information technologies provide us with answers to all conceivable questions? Or can they? Do we lack the appropriate skills and competences to search for information or are we just deluded into thinking that we are incompetent? The central hypothesis of this book is that the fundamental problem of being informed in the age of the social web and the culture of participation is that we don't know the premises of how we know and how the ways of interacting with information affect our pursuits and their outcomes. It is difficult to say how much we know and especially thorny to figure out what we don't happen to know. This first chapter asks what limits our knowing, what the borders to our knowing are, and how the landscape of knowing relates to two predominant strategies of making sense of it: information services and digital literacy.

Keywords

ordinary knowing

information

social web

boundaries

This book aims to look at the assumptions and realities of how people find information in the age of the social web. There are many popular debates about participation, accessibility, the privileged position of digital information and the consequent emergence of a particular yet often ill-defined 'digital information culture', knowledgeable younger generations and a digital divide between rich and poor, youngsters and the elderly. Despite the new technologies, people still have questions, problems and worries that they cannot answer. Why do search engines and other information technologies not provide answers to all conceivable questions? Or do they? Do we lack the appropriate skills and competences to search for information or are we just deluded into thinking that we are incompetent? And why do many traditional ways of finding answers - walking to a library or asking an expert - sometimes feel far too demanding? Something has changed in how and what information is sought, where and when, and by whom.

Change in itself is nothing new, but there are particularities that have made the change different and in some ways more radical than the change that has been around for decades. Technology and especially our assumptions of how technology works for us have changed. People have changed their behaviour and expectations of how and where to find information, and information culture has also changed. Finally, the information we are seeking and using, and its form and origins, have changed radically in the course of digitisation. This book is about those changes and how they augment and constrain the ways in which people know things, when and how it is difficult to know things, and when they might want to have some help or need new competences to cope with the changing landscape of information.

We are in the middle of a huge flow of information, and it is moving faster than ever before. We are trying to cope with it by using new technologies, learning digital literacy competence and hurling ourselves into the stream, picking up what we can and leaving the rest aside. The new technologies of information retrieval can make information searching a very pleasurable experience. It is easy to be immersed in the activity of browsing titles and finding unexpected things. Similarly, it is rewarding to be able to find a satisfying answer to almost any kind of question in a few seconds.

The central hypothesis of this book is that the fundamental problem of informing and being informed in the age of the social web and the culture of participation is that we don't know the premise of how we know, and how the ways of interacting with information affect our pursuits and their outcomes. Information seeking and finding is always a question of crossing and expanding boundaries between our earlier experiences and the unknown. We make excursions from everyday life to the sphere of science, journalism and even celebrity gossip in order to make sense of what is going on. Until well into the late twentieth century, ordinary people had limited opportunities to change the geography of the information sources available to them. They had access to a limited number of people and books, and only local newspapers. It was relatively clear where information could be found on different topics, what information channels were available and which sources were likely to be reliable. There have always been things we did not know about, but we could find out about them using a limited number of sources, whose boundaries were fairly clear. First, people could ask their friends, family and colleagues. The verity of the answers could vary, but because the answer was provided by a real person who was part of the social network of the questioner, the answers were likely to be relevant within their shared social context. From a social point of view, this is far more important than whether answers are exactly correct.

The second broad category of sources was edited works, such as edited and published books, television programmes and newspapers, or in earlier centuries the local priest, who acted in northern European rural communities as the principal source of news from the outer world. Once again, as we know from the facts presented in the press, not all the details provided in edited works are necessarily correct, but they are usually accurate enough. At the same time the information, true or false, is relevant, because it is shared by a relatively large group of people. The information is false only if its inaccuracy is apparent within the particular community. Information is wrong if it cannot be corroborated in practice. It is perfectly safe to purport and believe that distant seas are inhabited by sea monsters, but if someone suggests that a local river is the home of a dragon, and it is apparent that no dragon has ever been sighted there, the piece of information is (in practice) false, unless otherwise proven.

We have not had time to get used to the relatively sudden and profound change in the number of sources of information available to us. There are almost unlimited opportunities for people to choose the information sources they like to read or access, and to shape their personal information environment in the way they think is best. The cycle of developing and adopting new innovations has become so fast that our idea of the landscape has had no time to settle. The emergence of a generic culture of participation as a prototype of a multiplicity of participatory cultures - based on an equally generic social expectation that people will take part, communicate, contribute and interact - catalyses the distortion of landscape and adaptation before people can absorb it. The roots of participatory ideals are in the global societal and economic changes of the second half of the twentieth century (Smith, 1997), but the appearance of paradigmatic change has been underlined as a series of changes at the turn of the millennium were manifested in different areas of knowledge, from education to business and cultural institutions (e.g., C. Anderson, 2006; Spiranec and Zorica, 2010).

Everyone, not just the early adopters, uses Facebook and Twitter before they know what they are all about. A Swedish survey concludes that even if the ratio of active and passive users of Twitter is skewed and the number of active tweeters is not growing substantially, the service has had a comprehensive impact on the public debate in the country (Brynolf, 2011). A similar effect was observed in Finland when the annual Independence Day reception of the president of Finland (#linnanjuhlat) trended on Twitter in December 2011. Similar, even if occasionally somewhat indecisive, evidence has been presented about the role of other types of social media technologies (Christensen, 2011). We may not be well enough acquainted with the landscape of digital information to know how we know, where the boundaries are, how to cross them and what the consequences are of our behaviour. We are working with digital media, search engines and social information networks, but our sense of successful and satisfactory information use may be peripheral to the aims of our pursuits. At the same time, the social web lacks the earlier stable contexts of origin and relevance of information.

This book builds on the economic theory of knowing and interactive choice described in Russell Hardin's How Do You Know? (2009) and the notion of boundary objects and crossings initially developed by Susan Star and James Griesemer (1989). My proposition is that information seeking and use is largely a question of crossing and expanding boundaries between our earlier experience and the multitude of existing fields of knowledge, systems of representation and contexts of knowing. The starting point of this book is my general belief in a certain contextual rationality of action, which I share with Hardin. The rationality is not that of most philosophical schools or the rational choice theory. It is the everyday rationality of a moment. People usually make sensible choices. Many actions are perfectly sensible at the moment an individual chooses to make them, even if they might be considered utterly nonsensical a moment before or after they are made, and if nobody else could comprehend their validity. Arguably there are two primary reasons why rational decisions...