I've been thinking about what it means for communications, problem solving, and politics when we live in a world in which the dominant narrative says all knowledge we need is but a click away.
What we need to know can be bought. And sold. Even social change is a commodity. War - and by extension right, wrong, and power - has become a live online betting market.
It's not so much that we lose the capacity to learn and teach. Worse, perhaps, we lose the ability to solve problems, talk it through, come to a resolution, and not see winning or losing as part of our identity.
Experience without, well, experiencing it
In his book Why Read?, University of Virginia English professor Mark Edmundson reflects on readers, at least college students of the day, as inhabitants of a consumer centered system.
His students - circa 2004 so pre-iPhones and social media - were already well aware that anything to know was on television, on the Internet, or even available from Amazon. They were experienced in it all. The purpose of additional learning at college was practical - to acquire what was needed to effectively buy and sell goods...aka make money. And why shouldn't it be?
He shares a story (of which I'm sure there are many versions):
In Vienna, there was once a superb teacher of music, very old. He accepted few students. There came to him once a young man whom all of Berlin was celebrating. Only fourteen, yet he played exquisitely. The young man arrived in Austria hoping to study with the master. At the audition, he played to perfection; everyone surrounding the old teacher attested to the fact. When it came time to make his decision the old man didn’t hesitate. “I don’t want him,” he said. “But why not?” asked a protégé. “He’s the most gifted young violinist we’ve ever heard.” “Maybe,” said the old man. “But he lacks something, and without this thing real development is not possible. What the young man lacks in inexperience.”
"It’s a precious possession, inexperience; my students have had it stolen from them," Edmundson concludes.
We've optimized uncertainty, opaqueness, and the long view out of our days. Mostly because we need to maximize for revenue and entertainment value.
Trying to keep an email subscriber's attention in that world? Trying to shift a world view or have someone make the time for a webinar that's along your ladder of engagement? May the force be with you, young skywalker.
I don't think technology - television, iPhone, google search, even social media and now AI - is inherently contradictory to conversation, thought, consideration, nuance.
What's missing is the patience for exploration, asking questions, seeking input, weighing counsel. Now that we can get information immediately we're trained to believe that information and thus everything we say is correct. We are implicitly right and to say otherwise is heretical. Our worldview was backed up by something on Google, ChatGPT, X or Insta, after all.
Conversely, we resist chances to engage when we might be incorrect or unsure of ourselves. A high school or college teacher might be familiar with the pain of asking a group a question and getting silence. Nobody wants to be wrong or even a little off, especially in front of peers.
What happens in that third space
The question I'll end on is can we, should we, how do we build third spaces (digital or in person) for patient exploration? For thinking it through?
Folks like New Public are working on building community centered digital spaces where, presumably, conversation is optimized. Today's advertising driven online networks often optimize for extreme emotions like pleasure, curiosity, or, more often, fear and anger. There is a cottage industry of consultants who help you maximize engagement by deconstructing the algorithm.
There are also people working on in-person third spaces for collective thinking. Ryan Sorrell, founder of the Kansas City Defender, recently shared about their Abolitionist Freedom School, Free Food Program, Free Clothing Program, basketball tournaments, cookouts and student organizing trainings.
While we're here, I encourage you to read more about the work of the Kansas City Defender and the importance of the Black Press in Ryan's recent editorial, We Write to Wage War: The Radical Black Press As A Liberatory Technology. It's history you should know but also illustrates the connection between communications technologies (in any era) and how we engage with, fight for one another, and build community.
Community advocacy without experience
Advocacy and community organizations know about the power of storytelling. We use "impact" stories to show people how bad things are or could be. People are suffering, being ignored, poisoned, polluted, sickened, left behind. This may not be happening to you but, look, here's a story about it.
Our email and social media networks let us send these stories far and wide in an instant.
Suddenly, the story goes viral (or semi-viral or, more likely, not viral at all but still it's in front of our audience). We've all experienced the story.
And we've experienced a dozen other stories. We're sponging it all up all day long. Then we hear about it on Fox, on X, on Instagram. Are we numb yet? Cognitive overload much?
Into this void we, as advocacy and community organizations, are casting facts, case studies, and stories about the impacts on people. All in hopes of generating awareness, action, or support.
But nobody is given the chance to sit down, talk, and make sense of what's going on, what it means, how it affects them, and how change really happens.
I wonder if the optimization and professionalization of community advocacy is layered on top of (or under?) a cognitive overload. In the absence of actual experiences, conversation, and meaningful sensemaking we've left people concerned and confused. And we've left them unable to know if or how change is made. Or if it's even possible.
To put it another way, size or even reach does not correlate to meaning, impact, or relevance.
Yesterday, Micah Sifry explored if and h0w protests matter these days. There seemed to be a consensus a year or two back that protests didn't move the needle. After all the Women's Marches and protests and rallies in the wake of George Floyd's murder we were stuck with Trump's reelection and the ascendancy of perhaps the most reactionary and authoritarian democratic government since 1930s Germany.
Sifry makes the case that mass-organizing protests like No Kings and Hands Off and hundreds of smaller actions has not just continued growing over time but they have had direct policy and political impacts.
What goes unnoticed in protests and other community gatherings is the simple fact that putting people together gives them opportunity for collective sensemaking and social proof. An hour together in a room or on a march means more than dozens of emails. Sifry quotes Francesca Wander who has been a volunteer organizer for Indivisible in San Francisco:
“Bigger isn’t necessarily better (although it’s definitely good) but even small groups of people coming out in communities and towns all across the country speaks volumes. Good things definitely come in small packages. Plus you don’t need a lot of experience or infrastructure to host a small event. Just a few bodies with some signs can have an impact.”
Storytelling is essential. Being in community is important. But connection only happens when we quite literally engage with, rely on, learn from one another. How do we create more of these spaces for true experience in our work? That's something I hope to explore more with you here.