Scaring Off The Grad Student Twitterati
First, a caveat: My apologies for authoring a third post on Twitter over the course of two weeks. I promise: we’ll get some good J-Lo gossip soon. What’s more, the post that follows deals with my experience this past weekend at an academic conference and how Twitter both accentuated and ‘scandalized’ those proceedings — while it will certainly be of interest to anyone who’s ever been concerned with how junior professionals grapple with how their name/image is bandied about in public spaces, there will be a little bit of ‘inside baseball’ academic talk.
With that said, I’ve just arrived home from a long weekend spent in Eugene, Oregon at the 2010 Console-ing Passions Conference. The funky name is a vestige of the 1990s, when pun-y, hyphenated names and titles were all the rage in academia — basically it’s a feminist media conference that deals with many of the texts, approaches, and concerns that have long been marginalized by mainstream media studies (although that situation is gradually changing). In other words, this was a conference with a ton of panels that dealt explicitly with identity politics (race, class, sexuality, gender, etc.) and also dealt with texts, such as my own objects of study (gossip, stars, celebrity et. al.), that are still eschewed by some in the academy. (At SCMS, the ‘big dog’ of media studies conferences, I had a senior male scholar visibly recoil and scoff when I told him that my dissertation was on the history of celebrity gossip).
For various reasons, there was no internet access at SCMS, a situation that rightly infuriated many participants (myself included), mostly because it prevented any sort of live Twitter coverage of the panels. Hello: MEDIA STUDIES CONFERENCE. This situation will of course be remedied at SCMS next year, but it also left many of us media studies scholars who are regular users of Twitter. Thus, when Console-ing Passions rolled around six weeks later, anticipation for what live-tweeting would like like — and how it would be received — was high.
Indeed, as both Jason Mittell and Max Dawson pointed out (through Twitter) almost immediately, one morning panel of CP had inspired more Tweets than the whole of SCMS. I myself live-Tweeted most of the panels I attended (if you follow me on Twitter, this was obvious); I greatly enjoyed being able to look back on what was live-Tweeting about my *own* presentation — not to mention participating in the back-channels that emerged during several panels and the plenary.
Melissa Click authored a great wrap-up of the conference over at Antenna, and Amanda Ann Klein has a great piece on the uses and mis-uses (including several Twitter highlights). As Amanda emphasizes, Twitter can create really productive conversation — but the particular interactions on the backchannel (and their ramifications) at this conference leads us, as scholars, to think about how Twitter will be used in the future — and if we should come up with some tentative ‘guidelines’ to guide us towards a proper conference Twitter etiquette.
Now, Amanda also draws attention to what might be the most controversial use of Twitter at the conference — an event that took place at the plenary. Here’s Click’s succinct recap of the plenary itself:
“The CP plenary was Friday’s anticipated event. The plenary, titled “Publishing What We Preach: Feminist Media Scholarship in a Multimodal Age,” included Bitch’s Andi Zeisler, the Queer Zine Archive Project’s Milo Miller, and scholars Michelle Habell-Pallan and Tara McPherson. While Zeisler discussed blogging’s utility in feminist activism, and Miller discussed the web’s utility for archiving “twilight media,” Habell-Pallan discussed the importance of new media in American Sabor, the first interpretive museum exhibition to tell the story of the influence and impact of Latinos in American popular music. All three speakers communicated important messages for feminists wishing to bridge activism and scholarship, but it was Tara McPherson’s polemic, “Remaking the Scholarly Imagination,” that captivated the audience and had conference Tweeters typing like crazy. McPherson challenged the CP audience to adjust to the changing nature of the humanities by engaging with “the materiality of digital machines,” namely code, systems, and networks.The CP plenary was Friday’s anticipated event. The plenary, titled “Publishing What We Preach: Feminist Media Scholarship in a Multimodal Age,” included Bitch’s Andi Zeisler, the Queer Zine Archive Project’s Milo Miller, and scholars Michelle Habell-Pallan and Tara McPherson. While Zeisler discussed blogging’s utility in feminist activism, and Miller discussed the web’s utility for archiving “twilight media,” Habell-Pallan discussed the importance of new media in American Sabor, the first interpretive museum exhibition to tell the story of the influence and impact of Latinos in American popular music. All three speakers communicated important messages for feminists wishing to bridge activism and scholarship, but it was Tara McPherson’s polemic, “Remaking the Scholarly Imagination,” that captivated the audience and had conference Tweeters typing like crazy. McPherson challenged the CP audience to adjust to the changing nature of the humanities by engaging with “the materiality of digital machines,” namely code, systems, and networks.
Now, what Click doesn’t mention — and perhaps rightly so — is that part of what had Tweeters typing like crazy was a potentially incendiary phrase uttered during the Q&A session. Discussing where media studies needs to go in order to remain relevant during the next century, McPherson pointed out that “as lovely and elegant as Lost is, it doesn’t really matter.” This particular phrase echoed through the Twittersphere, Tweeted by myself and others, reaching hundreds of scholars following the conference remotely. This particular point was one of the most circulated (at least virtually) of the conference, and inspired Jason Mittell to author a response of sorts on his blog entitled “Don’t Tell Me What I Can’t Do.” (For those of you not in media studies: there’s tension in the academia between those who think that studying actual texts is important and others who find it not as crucial to the future of the discipline. See McPherson’s response to Jason’s piece for more conversation on that point.)
Importantly, the comment simultaneously was and was not taken out of context. Sure, without actually hearing all of the talk — or the specific wording of the question to which McPherson was responding — it’s difficult to know exactly what she meant. But at the same time, myself and others were diligently live Tweeting snippets and key concepts from her address — which, to be very clear, I *loved.* Here’s just a sampling of what I tweeted from the talk — this was probably written over the course of about 3 minutes:
Thus, when I and others Tweeted her comment on “Lost doesn’t really matter,” it wasn’t without already having worked diligently to establish the other ideas and concepts that she was forwarding. McPherson herself was disappointed that a single comment — one that Nina Huntemann appropriately termed “media studies bait” was what many took away from the talk. Again, I’d like to emphasize that there were many other ideas taken away from the talk — especially the ‘silo-busting’ phrase — and that McPherson is correct to be disappointed if that’s what people remembered from the otherwise inspiring, challenging, deeply insightful address.
But not only would I say that it’s not what those in actual attendance took away — it’s also not what those in the Twittersphere took away…..unless they tuned in for a single 3-minutes of Tweets and refused to look before or after. And for better or worse, McPherson knew she was being live-Tweeted, and that that phrase, no matter the context ,would read as incendiary. As Bethany Nowviskie points out, most of those critiqued on Twitter at academic conferences are also *present* on Twitter and able to respond; appropriately, Tara McPherson regularly tweets from conferences and even live-tweeted the speeches leading up to her own.
Which all brings me to my overarching point and title of this post: how criticism of how scholars are Twitter has the potential to scare grad students away from using it — especially in the conference setting — altogether.
Because our conferences are (relatively) small and the number of people Tweeting them is even smaller, those who are participating in the backchannel are highly visible. Many people *follow* the backchannel on their smartphones, but participate little or not at all — in part because it’s too cumbersome to update swiftly and eloquently on such devices. Yet those who are updating frequently, as I was, in part because I had a computer, but also because I’m a ridiculously fast typist (thanks to an Apple IIe program called ‘PAWS’ that I played non-stop from age 5-8), my handle and name was incredibly visible on the feed. Looking at the stream now, I’d venture that 75% of the Tweets came from non-professors.
Put differently, those who are in some ways most vulnerable to rumor and word of mouth — e.g. graduate students — are not only doing most of the labor in making the conference visible to the rest of the world….but also exposing ourselves to criticism and visibility by those who think that a.) Twitter doesn’t have a place at conferences or b.) we’re ‘getting it wrong.’ What bothers me about these particular critiques is their passive aggressivity: if I’m doing it wrong, tell me so, either in real life or on Twitter. Part of why I like Amanda’s recent post so much is her willingness to think through what worked and didn’t work with Twitter at CP — but I think that we need to have more frank conversations, especially with those who not only don’t Tweet, but don’t read academic blogs. To put it plainly: we need to have conversations with those who are most critical and dismissive of Tweeting, who are most often (but certainly not always) senior scholars, and who are often in charge of whether or not we, as graduate students, get hired.
Of course, scholars, whether professors or grad students, shouldn’t write things on the backchannel that they wouldn’t say in the Q&A session, and I was very careful to craft my own comments according to that maxim. Twitter shouldn’t be a gossip session — it should be an opportunity to better formulate responses to what’s being said…and also to help open up the conference to those not in attendance. I’ve had several non-academics on my Twitterstream tell me how fascinated they were to see the ‘innards’ of an academic conference — and that’s *exactly* the sort of positive exposure that we, as scholars whose work is often undervalued or ridiculed by those outside of the academia, should be looking for.
But if our legitimate responses to a panel — whether in the form of transcribed a quote that struck us as particularly incendiary, asking for more attention to race/class, or simply bemoaning the fact that a scholar seemed to be dismissive of a topic — become a liability, then it’ll certainly discourage us from continuing to cultivate the back channel in the future. Junior scholars should be encouraged to participate in discourse, both critical and affirmative, about scholarship — whether in spoken conversation or Tweeted @s. But the visibility following this particular conference, especially as I’m about to enter the job market in the Fall, makes me think twice about whether I’ll be live-Tweeting again.
39 Responses to “Scaring Off The Grad Student Twitterati”
I’m really loving the recognition of many of the great and problematic ways twitter functions in conferences due to the Console-ing event (since there was slim to none @ SCMS) I will admit I have been and still am a bit critical of Twitter at conferences, but not because I think it shouldn’t be there. Since I wasn’t able to go to CP, I was so glad to have some place to read the happenings. It allowed me to mental note several scholars whose work I definitely want to check out. Instead, my ambivalence comes from many of the areas you and Klein describe as well as my own frustration with feeling like the limitations of Twitter only give me soundbites and not always in the best way. Similiarly, while many panels were covered, there were many left without a tweet, undoubtedly for numerous reasons and I wonder if tag tweet teams or organization might cover the gaps. To be honest, this would mean I need to practice what I preach and finally get on Twitter.
For me, what this really points to is not dismissing Twitter, but for us all to explore the numerous online and offline technologies available to us to capture conferences. Keep utilizing alternate ways to archive conference proceedings, make these ideas and great talks accessible to fellow scholars who can’t come and/or want to keep the convo going post-panel, and even engage the public at large if possible. We absolutely need to problematize Twitter and its limitations in conveying the ideas and discussions at media studies conferences because that is meta text begging to be analyzed. But it is a fruitful resource and so many scholars are using it really well. In my perfect conference world, we’d have twitter/back channels for those who prefer that engagement plus podcasts and/or streaming audio/video of presentation, but you are quite familiar with the complicated logistics (both financial and otherwise) in getting that done!
Great thoughts Annie and it reminds me of several of the same issues that arose in the “Future of SCMS” talk. We need always be mindful of what we study and the future of what we study. But I’m glad many scholars are raising more and more questions about how we convey that scholarship to others from conferences to publishing.
Thanks so much for your feedback, Racquel. Both you and Amanda point to the fact that there were several panels that went un-Tweeted, and all I have to say is that I don’t, at least not at this point, think that it’s the responsibility of the (very relative few) of us to make sure that the conference is Tweeted in its entirety — rather, *more people need to start Tweeting,* especially if they think that a particular panel/topic should have greater exposure. It’s true that a lot of the Tweeting was coming from panels where there were a lot of people….but that’s kind of the law of proportionality, yes?
I suppose my defensiveness on this particular topic comes from the fact that there seems to be some sort of unarticulated idea that those who Tweet are somehow self-appointed ambassadors. While this is true, it’s not like we’re being paid — just like someone writing a recap for their own blog (or for Antenna or Flow or whatever), we’re still scholars with particular interests, and I’m not going to skip a panel that engages my particular interests in order to serve the greater good of live-Tweeting the conference. A backchannel needs participants to make it work — so what we need now is more people participating and expanding what it can/will do.
(I’d also note that it’s pretty awesome that the first thoroughly Tweeted large media studies conference was one where 90% of the participants were female — and almost 100% of those Tweeting were female. Women and technology making waves!)
You’re definitely right and I obviously agree: we, as a scholarsly community, need to get involved and find ways to keeping these conversations going, whether on Twitter or elswhere. For that to happen, there has to be investment in our scholarly community in different ways and beyond traditional methods. It is ridiculously easy to point out flaws and this is (in a way) unpaid labor, which is a whole greater issue considering it was a majority of grad students tweeting.
I think my frustration from the panels not tweeted were what they really expose: a general lack of preservation of these great and thoughtful discussions at most conferences and the problems in attempting to capture them. You know the trials and tribulations I experienced trying to record panels at Flow (and the ongoing probs of getting them online!), but it’s something I hope we try again at the upcoming conference because I think it is so important. It’s not just about archiving these ephemeral conversations for future research and it’s not solely for the scholars not able to physically be there because how great was it that non-academics on your feed were engaged (in part) with the proceedings? I love that Twitter allowed this accessiblity and honestly, it’s definitely made me contemplate my ambivalent feelings towards Twitter and its possiblities. Now I’m really thinking about how can we recognize, yet work within the limitations of Twitter to break down some of these boundaries and even have non-academic contact enter into these discussions and thoughts? And how is the actual technological format allow us to do so where something like even a blog or article might not? And most specifically, how can I use and make this work in conjunction with traditional forms of scholarship? Obviously, the academic Twitterati have been exploring these questions already (and for free!), but I’m coming around.
And any forum that lends a space for female scholars and their scholarship as well as women engagement with technology? Both great things!
Thanks for another great post, Annie. Did your Apple IIe teach you how to be prolific too?
I would like to add, though, that grad students who Tweet (sounds like an indy film, doesn’t it? Grad Students Who Tweet, a delightful comedy with Zach Braff) also stand to benefit considerably. Twitter allows grad students to be immediately visible in a profession that works at two year delays or more in other publishing venues. While journals and edited collections creep towards publication, those on Twitter, with blogs, etc. can enjoy name brand status before the “forthcomings” elsewhere on their CV materialize. So there may be the concerns about whether senior scholars will scowl at them, but it’s a bargain with considerable upside too (and I’d imagine many of said scowling senior scholars aren’t on Twitter anyways, meaning they’re probably only a problem if one is very loudly and visibly Tweeting from the front row of a conference room, and bothering them in the process). So I hope it’s a bargain that many grad students feel is still worth it. Being known as someone who says smart things and seems personable when one is in an applicant pool with 200+ others, many of whom may be completely unknown to the search committee, is a good position to be in, and Twitter’s a good way to get there for those who are indeed smart and personable.
Thanks so much for bringing these points up, Jonathan. Even though I end my post introspectively, I do think that the benefits of being highly visible on Twitter far outweigh any potential negatives. I think that this weekend simply illuminated those negatives in a way theretofore theoretical (a few senior scholars who I had no idea wer even *on* Twitter said to me ‘you’re one of the ones who’s been Tweeting so much!’).
I’m still interested in the point you brought up in the comments over on Amanda’s post — can/should we come up with a ‘best use practices’ of Twitter at conferences? I think Nowviskie’s thoughts are perhaps a good place to start. But it should also be done through modeling — I find that those new to Twitter emulate patterns and practices already at work, so those already Tweeting, whether grad students or professors, should think about whether the current paradigm is one we’d like to continue, and if it’s codification will help make grad students feel more comfortable operating within it.
Well, I hope that you being one of the active Tweeters wasn’t said in a vendetta-type way
And if it was, let it be balanced out by those of us who weren’t at the conference saying the same thing in a thankful way.
As for best practices, it’s probably an issue for those who are better at Tweeting than I to work out. And I certainly agree with your point that it shouldn’t be up to those who do Tweet to Tweet everything. But it could provide a way in for newbies to have some purposeful, clear use of Twitter at conferences — just as we’ve discussed what makes conferences daunting, cold, and uninviting for grad students, I imagine some of the hostility towards the Tweeting is from those who find the Tweeting daunting, cold, and uninviting, so it’s worth thinking about how to bring them over to the right side.
Annie,
I’d definitely be disappointed if the “dust-up” discourages anyone from actively twittering conferences, especially grad students. I found the conference coverage by you & other grad students (and a few employed folks as well!) excellent and engaging, and nothing we want to see less of. And in general, I think grad students have everything to gain by demonstrating that they can engage with ideas from a conference and feel confident expressing themselves in a public forum - I definitely know the names and work of more grad students via active Twittering, blog commenting/writing, and the like than I ever did from conference-going, so it can be a huge boon for your reputation.
I definitely got the sense that Tara was giving a great talk - in fact, before the Lost tweet I’d posted that I’d love to see the text/video/audio of what sounded like a fabulous plenary, in large part because of your posts. I don’t think that anyone who understands Twitter would critique any posts that are decontextualized or overly reductive, as that’s the nature of 140 char. My own post was inspired in large part by the fact that people on Twitter were debating the comment and I wanted to join that debate, tying it to a larger trend I’d seen at play. But I purposely didn’t name names in my post, as I wanted to emphasize the trend, not the specific culprits - in retrospect, I should have maybe sat on the post for a week to distance it from Tara’s talk, as the other lectures I referenced were far more focused on the issues I raised.
Anyway, thanks for your thankless Twitter reportage, and I hope that nothing I did discourages that level of speed-typing in the future!
-Jason
Looking back on my post, I hope you don’t think that I think that think that *you* are scaring grad students off of Twitter, Jason — you’ve certainly been one of the most encouraging not only of new media engagement and expansion in our field, but also of general transparency of how the job/hiring process proceeds. I also don’t think that your post was evidence of Twitter/live-Tweeting’s failure; rather, Tara’s comment (and the very fact that it could be considered ‘media studies bait’) illuminates how crucial it is to discuss the points you bring up in your post about what we can/should be ‘authorized’ to study.
I didn’t think you suggested that I was intentionally trying to dissuade grad student Twittering, but I’m always fearful of unintended consequences. Having not been there, it’s hard to assess the tone of any grumbling - it’s a shame if the message that some people are taking away is that conferences should be Tweeted/blogged less rather than more.
As someone who followed the unfolding of the “incident” in question (as well as much of #CPUO) via Twitter, my sense was that this was more than just a matter of remarks being taken out of context. Rather, I got the impression that some of the live tweeters were actually attempting to stir something up - to pit two established and respected members of the field (as opposed to differing methodologies) against one another. Reading over the night’s tweets, I sensed that the backchannel was being hijacked to provoke a fight, as opposed to a conversation. I’m not pointing a finger in any one direction - there wasn’t any one tweet (or tweeter) that made me feel this way. Regardless of whether I’m right or wrong about this (and i both suspect and hope that I’m wrong) the fact that I, a spectator following along a few thousand miles away, shut of my computer Saturday night feeling this way underscores one of Annie’s most important points: never say something in the backchannel that you wouldn’t say in a q&a. And that’s a rule that we all - grad students and faculty members alike - should respect.
Are you referring to the fact that McPherson invoked Lost in particular? Because even looking back over the Tweets, I didn’t feel that a.) she was addressing Jason in particular or b.) that those Tweeting thought that to be the case. I had mentioned Jason’s name in a Tweet immediately before McPherson’s comments, but that was to connect a comment from the audience about how senior scholars need to take the lead in working towards more innovative models of scholarship to Jason’s talk at the Future of Publishing workshop at SCMS.
Can you elaborate a bit more on how you think that fight was constructed? For me, the comment simply illuminating the tensions in media studies at large (and at the conference, in the Twittersphere, etc.), not between particular scholars. In fact, the fact that both Tara and Jason were both advocating new models of publishing — just in two different conference — should not be neglected.
Annie - Running late for class, but need to clarify one point. I’m suggesting that it wasn’t what Tara said, but rather the way it was reported that seems to have been the issue. Tara addressed this herself on Twitter and at Jason’s blog - that arguably the most tweeted (and retweeted) part of her panel was an offhand remark made during the Q&A that had little to do with the topic at hand (as I understood it, alternative modes of publishing). Based solely on the twitter reaction to this one line I got the sense that people *wanted* to interpret this remark as incendiary, despite the fact that Tara didn’t intend it to be.
Again, this was just my gut reaction, formed at quite a distance from the actual conference. But my point - and yours, too, I gather - is that these decontextualized impressions matter, all the more so when we’re dealing with a medium that allows us only 140 characters. At a conference, a comment made during a panel or q&a can be nuanced in all sorts of ways. In the audience or on the rostrum, we can listen for tone, read body language, etc. By contrast, with the backchannel, most of that context gets stripped away. When we follow a discussion over the backchannel in real time (whether in another room or thousands of miles away), we sometimes rely on volume (the sheer number of times an idea or a line gets retweeted) to replace this missing context.
It’s true that it was not crucial to the point of her talk, but maybe it will simply make us reconsider the way our points — whether in the context of our papers or in the Q&A — can be misinterpreted, whether Tweeted or not. Saying “Lost doesn’t matter” would and did produce conversation without its recyclage through the Twittersphere. While I do agree with what McPherson was forwarding about how academia absolutely needs to evolve in order to stay relevant, including reevaluating the way that we approach texts, the statement itself is, even *with* context, incendiary.
When I first read this (fantastic) post, my immediate response was similar to Jonathan’s: scowling scholars aside, the benefits of Twitter and blogging to grad students far outweigh any potential consequences. Mind you, I say this as a card-carrying member of the Twitterati, and as someone who owes a great deal to such non-traditional forms of scholarly engagement - I’m very clearly not going to be “scared away” considering what I’ve experienced over the past few years, and I would tend to think that most of the more prolific representatives of the GST would say the same.
What I hope will happen is a sort of “Pay it Forward” scenario: as someone who, being isolated (at the moment) from conferences, has benefited from the work that Annie and others have done, I feel like it’s my responsibility (in a “let’s stick together” sort of way, not in a “weight of the world on my shoulders” sort of way) to keep the tradition going when I finally get to a conference myself. And I think that it’s a self-educating environment: it’s an intelligent group of people, and I think that people start to realize what kind of tweets they find most helpful while following a conference and would adjust their own plans according to that model (especially since, as Annie pointed out in the comments, that could be a model that is emulated in the future).
The problem is that a lot of the people who are in opposition to this process haven’t experienced it for themselves: you almost need to have been the observer in order to understand its value, and that starts getting into the sort of misconceptions about (or, to show a little bit less of my own bias, negative conceptions of) Twitter which are less prevalent in Media Studies than other fields but remain pretty common.
If it wasn’t 3am I’d try to offer more of a solution, but every time I try to think of how to create a guide to the process I worry that it will either be patronizing to those who don’t “get it” or potentially prohibitive to wary grad students (who wonder whether something with a “rule book” is really something scarier than it might be).
Thanks, Annie, for starting this stimulating discussion - I might have to chronicle my own experience on Twitter in the future to try to do my own part to keep the terror from wreaking havoc with the pool of future tweeters.
Annie, I think you shame us all with your prolific and insightful posts, both here and on teh_Twitter.
As I so often do, I agree with Myles. There’s a value to these quick bursts of information from panels and the ability of those unable to attend to provide feedback as well, and as a developing scholar, Twitter has proved invaluable as a site of engagement with scholars and critics that I otherwise would have never met.
As has been pointed out, the resistance to Twitter is wide spread, but I suspect one that is founded on two things. #1 is that many of the employed academics see it as one more beast to feed in addition to publishing, teaching, and committee/service work, and a beast with low reward. Despite joking with Chris Becker, I don’t think I can get away with putting insightful tweets on my CV, and I suspect many can’t see beyond the very material way it improves their standing in the academic community.
#2 is that the public perception of Twitter remains that of either the self-centered, “I had eggs for breakfast, and I <3 Justin Bieber" variety or the mass, poorly spelled opinion sphere that gets broadcast on CNN. In either case, the value of Twitter cannot be made clear unless something very specific is done.
Perhaps one move is to set up a hashtag stream on a conference's Web site, so that anyone who visits the conference Web site can see the backchannel stream (I don't know if this is possible, but in today's age, it must be). It can encourage, at the very least, knowledge of the channel and the platform.
That CP set up the hashtag in advance is another step in the right direction (as Amanda pointed out in her post). It encourages participation and meet up much sooner than waiting for the panels to start. Admittedly, it's one more thing for conference organizers to do, but it's a small thing that can pay off immensely in terms of just promoting the conference, let alone in encourage backchannel discussion.
I don't think that a rulebook is really necessary. As I've seen mentioned elsewhere, if you wouldn't be willing to say it during the Q&A or develop it into a blog post (or article or conference paper), don't tweet it. I think the key will be, as with many things, only in moderation and know when to stop (I say this as someone who tweets FAR too much).
>Perhaps one move is to set up a hashtag stream on a >conference’s Web site, so that anyone who visits the >conference Web site can see the backchannel stream (I don’t >know if this is possible, but in today’s age, it must be).
Yes, it is possible to do this; there are plugins and scripts for some content-management systems, and Twapper Keeper (http://twapperkeeper.com) is a service that allows users to archive hashtags, which can also be a sort of DIY version of this.
We’ve done this at events I’ve helped managed and it’s been successful in some cases. There have been some disasters at tech conferences where the backchannel has really undermined speakers, so I suppose it has to be done carefully.
I actually love the idea of putting the stream on the website - available for anyone, but not publicly projecting it during the talk (as it was in danah boyd’s horrific backchannel experience described here http://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/archives/2009/11/24/spectacle_at_we.html).
I totally agree with everyone above that I hope the controversy at CP doesn’t scare grad students (or anyone else) away from tweeting at conferences. I do think, however, that it would be good for us to be talking about tweeting at conferences with a wider audience of folks about it-if it’s not too late, maybe a panel at Flow could be a first step? As media scholars, we know new technologies are adopted in waves, and I think people’s reactions to Twitter at CP have something to do with that. Since the majority of folks at the conference don’t tweet or blog or maybe even read blogs, I’d love to see some face to face conversations with users and nonusers-could be useful for all?! As someone who’s likely somewhere in between, I think Michael Newman makes some interesting points we should take into consideration (Annie beat me to tweeting nearly every time there was something I wanted to write-damn ipod!) and I’d love to see this develop into a larger conversation (a tweeted one, of course!).
Thanks for the smart commentary Annie!
I think Flow could be a very productive site for working through the question. And as Michael and Amanda both point out, I think higher visibility levels of the backchannel would make those who aren’t Tweeting feel more comfortable with how it functions. (I’ve definitely seen panels where the Tweets are streaming behind the person speaking, but that personally freaks me out).
I agree with Michael’s point about not wanting to necessarily tweet on smartphone device….but also not wanting to lug a laptop. I didn’t tweet half of the panels I attended because I was a.) too lazy to bring my laptop one day b.) my laptop ran out of battery power c.) am all thumbs when it comes to working my iTouch. But that does mean that those with keyboards come to dominate the Twittersphere. But is there a way to fix that?
I think we’re at a crossroads where the inclination seems to be to come up with some very casual ‘best practices’ or guidelines…but also continue to cultivate the organic-ness of the activity.
Just a quick note on the apparatuses of conference Twittering - I’m greatly looking forward to my next conference, where I hope to Tweet from the iPad prolifically. I think it has the right size/battery ratio to make it the perfect device for this niche practice.
As another grad student who participated in the CP Twitter stream (and who just woke up, thanks to some late night travel), I found it to be a valuable experience, and one that actually made all of CP feel more welcoming to new media work and to younger scholars. In fact, we could be looking at the Twitter stream as precisely one form that expedited and new media forms of academic publishing might take.
Annie, you raise great points about how the “controversy” around tweeting risks minimizing this inclusive potential. And, I think Melissa’s ideas about having broader conversation, Amanda Klein’s suggestion that speakers be informed about (and empowered to refuse) being Tweeted, and Michael Newman’s suggestion that conference materials be posted online to allow speakers’ own messages to get out, are particularly smart ways of addressing some of the ethical issues being discussed.
But, I suppose I’m concerned about official establishment of “Twitter etiquette” or “tag teams” to cover all speakers, or even about suggesting that an individual’s critiques of a talk are inappropriate. For one, no speaker is ever in total control of their message, and certainly some of the same conversations around McPherson’s talk would have (and did) happen offline, as well. Secondly, a highly-tweeted paper may be evidence that there were a lot of people using Twitter in the room - or it may be evidence that the particular paper had exceptional value in some way. I’d hate to lose that to a secretarial account of the conference produced for those in absentia and for posterity. Finally, the last thing that we should want to see is the establishment of a back channel that is well-organized and decorous and dead. While certainly we can adjust Twitter to fit the needs of the conference space in some ways, we should also consider adjusting the conference space and protocols in response to new forms of engagement. While Twitter may alienate some, it may also enfranchise others - I don’t think it is entirely coincidental that this conversation is happening around a feminist conference in which women and young scholars dominated the Twitter stream.
In short - courtesy and above-board practices, yes; rules and regulations, no.
rules and regulation, no, but some forms of planning or attempts to create meaningful openings and entry points for those less familiar or comfortable with Twitter could be very helpful in addition to the haphazardness, which should of course still continue unabated.
I only got on Twitter a few months ago, and my first conference experience with it was very alienating, since everyone seemed to know each other already and it seemed to be a beast with its own life. So I simply didn’t bother. I’m not asking the world to change to humor my neuroses and feelings of being outside the cool kid’s club, but I think a modicum of organization might open the doors a little wider. And while Twitter’s already opening up the conference experience for some, and allowing some to feel more at home, it could undoubtedly do it better and for more people with a bit of prodding and planning?
While I certainly don’t agree with limiting rules or regulations that shut things down to strongly, I do think a discussion about how scholars should manage their conference presentations and on-line identities would be very valuable. As someone knew to Twitter I was a little shaken when I first saw my paper tweeted. Partially because I interpreted as an attempt at summary what was really a conversation because I was only following one of the two people in the conversation (something I found to be true of other people who only followed one of the people participating in the conversation). But more strongly because I was concerned about the fact that people who were not there were getting an understandably selective variation of my paper. Don’t misunderstand the twitterers did a good job but as the papers author there were things I wanted to clarify, explain or (in the case of uncredited answers in the Q&A) take credit for. I didn’t know what the etiquette was though. Once the panel was over would retroactively engaging in the conversation be pointless? Would the twitterers perceive it as rude? The backchannel is certainly valuable, it gave me some great perspective on my own panel and others, but I wonder if it could be even more valuable if we discussed ways to get the authors involved after their panels? Also as a “vulnerable” grad student, as Annie points out, I was a little concerned that people who didn’t know me or know my work were only getting to see it through 140 word selective snippets of it. Now it is my responsibility not the twitterers to manage my on-line identity and knowledge about my work, but a conversation about how authors could work with twitter to have some control over their identities (maybe posting abstracts at a conference blog for which the links are tweeted before the panel) without having to put their whole papers on-line could be valuable. As Liz points out you can never fully control your reputation or what people do with your work, nor do you even have the right to do so, but given that I fully believe that everyone involved wants twitter to be the most productive thing for everyone involved I do think the kinds of conversations that you, Amanda and others are starting to bring up are very important.
Well this is exciting-I’m glad there is so much dialogue going on about Twitter and conferences because I really feel the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.
Here is another thought (and if someone else in this comment feed has already suggested this, my apologies-I am catching up on all of this between Jude’s naps): perhaps conference planning committees might think about creating a committee devoted to the online presence of the conference. For example, the committee could be composed of twitterers from different areas of interest/expertise who will agree to attend a variety of panels over the course of a conference and then tweet the proceedings. Too regimented? Possibily? But this very regimentation might ease the minds of late adopters.
On a side note, reading this post made me realize how little I contextualized my post for folks outside of media studies (i.e., explaining what SCMS is, etc.). This post will be way more accessible to non-media studies scholars and non-academics, so thanks for that.
Agreed about an on-line presence committee for a conference. And to add to that, Jonathan Gray’s point above about prodding and planning idea may be an early, pre-conference panel (or just an early conference panel) about Twitter and how the conference intends to use it (or just a slide show on the conference’s Web site that attendees can access before or during the conference). It may be to the benefit of all to set up a conference/organization Twitter account so information can get passed around that way, and encourage use.
Another small thing: Attach the hashtag with the WiFi code in people’s badges and you’re well on the way.
So I’m the chair of the Communication Committee for the Fiske Matters conference in June - thus far, that mostly means helping coordinate emails & the website (although Bill Kirkpatrick has been the driving force behind the web). But I think it makes sense for us to use our committee to establish some “best practices” on conference tweeting. Recognizing that most people talking here won’t be at FM and not wanting to hijack Annie’s thread, I’d encourage anyone with suggestions for how best to do that to drop me an email.
I’ve participated in SXSWi twice as a panelist. Unsurprisingly, Twitter usage is extremely high at that conference and is directly encouraged by the conference organizers — every single panel has its own hashtag. However, that doesn’t mean it’s never controversial. I heard of one panel that pulled up their Twitter feed to see if there were any further audience questions to find a comment blasting the panel for its lack of diversity; when the feed was pulled up the person who had made the aggressive comment left the room. I’m not sure how accurate that version of the story is, as I wasn’t there, but I think at the core it represents the kind of worst case scenario of someone using Twitter to say things he or she would not have the courage to say directly.
I’ve had great fun using Twitter to engage with scholars I respect (I’m @sparklebliss if anyone wants to find me), and I’ve also really delighted in how much I’ve been able to engage with people across disciplines and with folks from other professional areas who have shared interests (media makers and activists, for example). I think Twitter has some of the same problems that other social media sites have, which is that we have yet to come up with elegant solutions for the problem of professional and personal convergence.
One of the points I really took home with me from SXSWi was Douglas Ruskoff’s invective against anonymity. He argued (I think rightly) that it undermines real connections and real efforts at community building. I think this is especially true with things like academic conferences where the community is relatively small and often crisscrossed by a mix of personal and professional connections; if we’re deliberate in how we use tools like Twitter at conferences, they can serve as a great way of furthering the reach of academic discourse both to other academics, and to other interested folks. Used improperly, they undermine discussion and encourage a kind of two-faced response to others’ work. Perhaps the best rule of engagement, then, is to never be anonymous — either in person or in the ether.
I’d second Carly’s call in support of being named in online participation - although I’d warn that there are those who firmly pro-anonymity, a faction that I encountered in another online dust-up! The last thing a conference needs is a participant trying to be a real-life Gossip Girl and undermine the proceedings…
Just popped in quickly to comment on Carly’s notion of anonymity. I agree for the most part that anonymity does breed a sort of cowardice in that if you wouldn’t say it in a Q&A but you’d say it on Twitter could make one appear to be. But (and this is a big but), I want to take just a moment to focus on the “for the most part” because in the example Carly gives, it makes perfect and total sense to me why the person at that SXSW panel left the room. I’m not certain of that individual’s race or ethnicity but I can guaran-damn-tee you that if I made that comment on twitter (I’m a black woman) I would’ve been more than nervous-actually, rather intimidated and a little bit afraid, if I were asked to stand up and reannounce my question in front of a room full of white people. Stereotype threat and all those other racial things is a very real phenomenon, thus, sometimes anonymity is necessary for people in those marginalized positions. It takes more than gumption or an academic fervor to swallow one’s nervousness, stand up and ask a question in general. To do that while suggesting that the whole situation (lack of diversity as it was) leaves much to be desired in a post-racial world and not worry that you’d be immediately re-classified as “that person” who talks about race can be downright terrifying. So, while I understand and appreciate the generic sense of revealing personas and leaving the comfort of anonymity, I don’t think the example used sufficiently proved the key point being made-but instead showed privilege that many don’t have.
More to the point of this post, sometimes I found myself twittering at the CP conference about that very lack of race and class intersection (my twitter handle is kristenwarner-I’m the girl with the Oprah photo). Being at a conference that is invested in recentering women but as I saw it oftentimes did the recentering at the cost of negligibly excluding marginalized people within the marginalized women group does not necessarily make one feel welcome to speak. Twitter (while perhaps cowardly; I’d say protective) helped me say what I just didn’t feel comfortable saying in those spaces. In short, twitter isn’t just useful as an archive for preserving presentations; it also serves as a space for some of us to speak what we couldn’t speak otherwise.
Kristen -
I think that’s a good point.
Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough about the specific context of SXSWi. Because of the nature of the conference, it’s nearly impossible to be anonymous on Twitter. Almost everyone publishes their Twitter handle in some relevant form (conference bio, business card, etc), and by using the relevant hashtags for a panel, you’re facing a very, very high likelihood that the panelists will see the comment as the panel is going on.
I think most of the people commenting in this thread (you and me included) have either handles that reference our names or (in my case) our full name clearly associated with our handle. There are certainly cases in which anonymity is desirable for individuals, but I think in certain contexts — like a media-saturated tech conference — Twitter is already not anonymous. I think when people assume some kind of anonymity, they’re fooling themselves. I also think remaining anonymous makes real concerns easier to dismiss.
As to the panel, the specifics of the complaint regarding diversity were somewhat vague — the panel may or may not have been all white, but it was all male and all over 40.
Belatedly joining in this very important convo. As one of the conference organizers, I’m struck by the fact that none of us are really talking about the *work* of conference organizing, not to mention that of tweeting. One of the reasons twitter was so appealing to me was that unlike the website, which cost us a good bit of time and money and was never as good as it could have been (one of the downsides of not having much money or spare labor), twitter was spontaneous, free, and didn’t consume a lot of organizational energy.
I have to confess that I was worried before the conference that some of the snark and vitriol that are often part of conference discourse (Mike Newman talks about this in his post) would dominate the back channel. But CP has often been somewhat different in that regard and I think this spilled over into the back channel.
I have to say that I’m not a fan of the more regulatory mode. I think that if you’re looking for substantive engagement and critique, twitter is always going to disappoint. Indeed, conferences often disappoint in that regard (7-10 pp. = one idea and illustrations) and one of the things that future CP organizers will have to think about is whether we should sacrifice inclusiveness in order to cut down the number of participants on panels.
As for panels that went untweeted (and mine was also one of these), I don’t think that we can expect those who do the work of tweeting — and do it so well as many of the CPUO attendees did — to be secretaries to a conference. And assigning folks to tweet various panels just seems deadly dull. Part of what was so exciting about the CPUO tweets was, well, that people were engaged with and excited about the panels they attended. Would hate to lose that passion and spontaneity.
One last comment about the Lost dust-up. I’m going to wax all old school on this and go out on a limb, but I think that the question of how an interpretation of Lost advances the project of *feminist* media studies is an important one. That is, if we’re going to lay claim to the first adjective, I think it’s fair to ask each other — and ourselves — questions about how our research and pedagogy relates to feminist thought and practice.
And thanks again to everyone for a provocative conference and follow-up conversation. It may be that the best part of the tweeting is the ability to continue conversations and relationships that began last weekend.
Thoughtful post and comments. We all need to keep remembering that we’re still learning these tools as we use them; there’s inevitably going to be issues along the way. Hopefully, as it looks like in this case, we can take what happened as the basis for change down the line.
As much as I love reading and participating in the Twitter backchannel at conferences, I think we need to exercise a bit more diligence in what we tweet. There’s an all-too-easy slippage between taking notes and Tweeting: the former is semi-private (for our own thought processes), while the latter is completely public. In an effort to keep up with presentations, perhaps some of us (and I’m pointing the finger at all Tweeters in general) might tweet something best kept private. Similarly, tweets should really strive for context; this, I believe, was what was lost in the account of the McPherson plenary. Everybody latched onto the “Lost” line, even though that wasn’t what the talk was really about.
We don’t need any hard rules. All we need is greater sensitivity, and a more developed “Twittiquette.” Suggestions on how to do this should be generated and discussed, with an overriding goal of making the hashtag useful in real time, and as an archive. Again, we’re learning, and that’s perfectly fine. We’re developing this powerful tool in our uses; let’s keep using it.
first off, in the interest of transparency and encouraging these conversations im @m_abel on twitter and i did some tweeting at CP (though not as much as Annie, Louisa Stein, et al).
i think perhaps one of the important questions is not so much about “rules and regulations” but about what our personal goals and reasons are for tweeting. Is it a way of taking notes? Is it a way to raise additional questions (at the first panel, I had a nice exchange with Annie in another room and Max Dawson not at the conference about whether Survivor outfits are costumes)? Do we quote the speaker, paraphrase, pick out themes? Of course it’s all of these things, but I think thinking through those goals/why we tweet/why we don’t tweet might be helpful. and I think Michael Newman’s post at zigzigger does just this.
I also particularly second Liz Ellcessor’s above post and both Amanda and Michael’s suggesstions abotu foregrounding that people are using twitter and encouraging ways of posting papers. I think one of the problems is that often when conferences do post papers (or abstracts) they insist on doing it themselves and thus presenters have to submit a paper way ahead of time. Of course many of us end up writing or finishing papers days or hours ahead of our panels. To this end (and this addresses Carol Stabile’s comments abotu organizing as well), perhaps like the volunteer/free work done on twitter by conference participants, posting papers online might be something done communally by participants rather than putting the onus on the organizing committee.
all of this said, I think it will be fascinating to see how all of these play out at Flow which it seems to me is exactly the kind of conference forum that is perfect to work with these channel/backchannel conversations.
Re: the Flow Conference -
I just wrote a long email to this year’s organizing committee, directing them to the comments section on this post (and Amanda and Michael’s as well). Not only do we need to make sure that wi-fi is available this year (it wasn’t last conference), but we need to think about how we can implement some of the great ideas proffered above. As Melissa pointed out above, I also think a roundtable on this very topic would be productive — and we can Tweet that as well. (Meta to the meta power!)
Having been on the organizing committee for Flow (along with some of the other readers here, I’m sure) I would say some of the strategies form SXSWi would work really well — put panelists’ Twitter handles somewhere visible (on a name plate or a sign), and have official hashtags for the conference and for every conference event. It helps make sure that those trying to engage in a conversation are able to engage with each other effectively, and I think the effort required to do this would really pay off in richer extended conversations.
Hey all,
First off, I think that twitter has proven its usefulness if only by starting a pretty amazing conversation about its utility here and elsewhere.
What I really like about the online resources available to media scholars (twitter backchannel, Flow, Antenna, and the various academic blogs on your blogroll) is that I genuinely feel like these channels have actually created a real community in ways that people had hoped they would. I also think that they have provided venues for the real presence of *conversations* about issues that we feel are important.
I agree with others who have posted that without these venues, I would not necessarily *know* certain scholars’ work, and more importantly, have an impression of their personalities.
While I’m not necessarily one for rules (man…), I think that we should take a step back and remember that this crazy, hyper-accelerated world not only speeds up our reactions to things, but our emotions as well.
As with an older technology, the “email” I have been told, many times, not to react to emails emotionally, as there is no way to contextualize their emotional content and they are way too easy to misinterpret. Businesses even have rules never to reply to “hot” emails which sweep through offices. That this conversation has blown up to the extent that it has I think is partly due to the nature (and speed) of the beast that is twitter, the internet, etc…and the lack of context that it engenders.
I guess a rule of thumb I go by is that humor, and almost any gesture of personality writ electronically almost always comes off as snarky (at least from me - my dry Canadian wit on twitter only looks like I’m being a boorish ass). Perhaps context (both location and the twitterer’s personality might be something worth being aware of)…
While admittedly not having been there at all, I wonder if part of this conversation is also borne of other frustrations that we academics are feeling at this moment of transition, particularly as this issue seems to have generated a great deal of anxiety and lots of words. Not to get all psychoanalytic or anything, but is there anything that we need to be talking about (a larger problem) that we’re substituting our dissatisfaction with and putting twitter in its place?
Anyhoo - glad to have put my two cents in on this amazing forum.
Thanks Annie!
Colin
Hey all,
Tara chiming in here. As the person who instigated this ‘incident’ and expressed fascination with the outcomes of the plenary twittering, I want to make it crystal clear that I value Twitter at conferences. I don’t think we should try to regulate it in any excessive way (not that we could.) I do love that conferences now often have official hashtags, as I think that this lowers the barrier to entry a bit for new Tweeters.
As to the plenary, I agree that my comment re: lost was tweeted both “in” and “out” of context; to folks following the CPUO stream, it was w/in a context (although even Jason didn’t realize it referred to Q + A statement). To folks following re-tweets, it was likely just a random line from nowhere appearing in their twitterverse. But that’s okay too (and it garnered me a lot more followers). I do wish I had said “reading racial complexity in True Blood doesn’t matter” (since this would reference something *I* wrote), but the larger context of my remarks is still what matters to me. None of our work (or our tweets) will matter if we don’t engage profound technological shifts in culture and in our universities with speed and seriousness.
So, please and by all means, Twitter!
P.S. I also heard it said more than once that the grad students at CP were by far the best Tweeters!
Coming over from the ProfHacker link, so I’m quite late, I admit.
It was at CP in 1996 that I, as a grad student, answered a question in a way that greatly upset a professor from one of the major film schools in the country. It so upset her that at a different feminist studies conference two years later, I was on a panel where I was addressing similar issues, and one of the other panelists told me afterward that she had already heard of me because she was in that grad program at that time, and that professor came back after CP in 1996 and told students about my comment and how they should not be so naive as I was. We barely had email then, and gossip was already going around about a comment I’d made. It didn’t destroy me. I have tenure now and love a lot about my job. But it scared me then that a spontaneous answer to a question was enough to mark me for years after.
If things like this happened before Twitter, then we certainly need to be aware of what can happen today. Yes, as the article states, this is what we have to be talking about.