Geographies of knowledge production

Over at another collective blog produced in part by UW-Madison folks, the always-fascinating GlobalHigherEd, there’s a really interesting post including some visualizations of global knowledge production, taken from this report (linked and downloadable):

Graham, M., Hale, S. A., and Stephens, M. (2011) Geographies of the World’s Knowledge, London, Convoco! Edition.

For example, one of the images visualizes the number of academic journals by country, shaded by impact factor (click to view full size):


What do such visualizations suggest about the place of US faculty and graduate students in the global circulation of knowledge?  How do you think these images would look if targeted to specific fields, like mass communication or media studies?

For more, read the full post over at GlobalHigherEd.  (And thanks to UW-Madison geography professor and GlobalHigherEd author Kris Olds for alerting me to this cool resource.)


9/11 Reading List

As I watched news of Osama bin Laden’s death last spring unfold across four screens (a TV for broadcast news, a laptop for websites, an iPad for Twitter and an iPhone for Facebook), one message stood out. A student tweeted at me to get perspective:

@kbculver actual question (in seriousness): what was it like on the UW-Madison campus when 9/11 occurred?

I recalled the sense of helplessness. I recalled the feeble email I sent out to my class about how we would continue to meet and talk and write and edit even though the shock and sadness made grammar quizzes and lead-writing feel beyond inconsequential. I recalled wanting to mark that moment, and then I remembered the person who best captured it for me.

Leonard Pitts from the Miami Herald penned a column a few days after 9/11 that spoke to so many. In today’s landscape, it would have been a Twitter explosion and gone on countless Facebook walls. But back then, it went viral in the way of that time, via email and hallway conversations. “Did you read that ‘unspeakable bastards’ column?” Pitts captured people’s feelings by writing directly toward the mastermind of our shared nightmare:


“It’s my job to have something to say.

They pay me to provide words that help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.”

Read what he concluded:

Tears moved silently down my cheeks as a I read that the first time, and they welled again when I went back to it upon bin Laden’s death.
I tweeted it at that student, so he understood that UW-Madison was like every other corner of the U.S. that fall. In Vilas Hall, on Bascom Hill and down the Lakeshore Path, people wandered, shocked and often silent. Each time a military jet flew over Lake Mendota, I wondered if I would ever again meet that sound without fear.
In those lost days and the trying times since, I found journalism speaking to me as it hadn’t before. I found interpretations of my feelings, inspiration from our humanity and insight into our failings.
Many, many examples abound, but I would suggest these pieces as a look into what journalism gave us in the wake of a national tragedy.
From Esquire, “The Falling Man” is a wrenching look into the iconic photo of a person free-falling after jumping or falling from the burning towers. Read more:
Newsweek had a fascinating piece about the final moments aboard Flight 93 before it crashed into the Pennsylvania countryside. I was uncomfortable with some of its assumptions, but it was a harrowing tale nonetheless. It doesn’t appear in Newsweek’s archives, but this seems to be a full capture:
The Atlantic Monthly ran a stunning series by William Langewiesche that was later published as a book, American Ground. It details the efforts to recover the dead and remove the massive ruins of the site. The book drew criticism in certain corners for its unvarnished look at the behavior of some at the site. But it’s a gripping and rich look at what followed the attacks.
Finally, nothing brought home the reality of that tragedy more for me than the New York Times’ “Portraits of Grief.” Unfurling slowly over weeks, then months, the Times gave us brief and human stories of more than 2,500 people who perished that day. The minute details of everyday lives struck me like nothing else.
A jet flew over my head this morning, set against the same brilliant blue sky of that September Tuesday 10 years ago. I was not afraid. I do not know exactly when that fear faded across all the autumn Tuesdays of the last decade. But I carry with me the work of Pitts and others, those whose words marked a time of indescribable reality.

It’s all in the details

The recent coverage of the 911 anniversary was prolific to say the least, and some, I know, do not understand the media’s fascination with anniversaries. But I always love a good anniversary, and spent a good chunk of my Sunday, Sept. 11, glued to the television. I pulled out a couple pieces for my news producing students to take a gander at, and sent them out on our protrack listserve. Thought I’d share here as well:

1) This Nation piece is important for journalism students to read because it really gets at something significant about humanity. It’s not just another memorial piece or article about the anniversary coverage. It delves deep into our feelings about suicide and death and honor. It delves into our societal values.

Do note the incredible details the report got here, as in this sentence: “Richard used to look at the postings and the photographs on the internet and sometimes wondered if Karen had jumped. She was very vain and particular about her face, he knew; she used plenty of wrinkle cream, and he always figured if conditions were that bad she would jump rather than face the fires.”

2) And also, check out the images here at the NYT of the memorial ceremony. Study the photographs. Note how they show emotion and perspective. Note how they focus on a specific subjects despite the mass crowds and chaos of the day.

If you are interested in being put on the protrack listserve, please send me your email at We also have a twitter hashtag at #jprotrack.


Demanding a Revolution?

Below is my latest post on MediaTrope:

Have you seen the latest report from National Council for Journalists?

Their major finding: Editors still prize traditional skills. One editor in the report said:

An ability to spot a story, conduct a strong interview and then produce clean, legally sound, well-structured copy remains the priority,” said one editor, “with these key skills everything else (social media, video etc) will follow.

Another finding in the report suggests that understanding audience interaction and digital skills were low-totem-poll priorities. The report concluded: “What is required is for the exam to evolve; there is no demand for a revolution.”

I do a ton of interviews with journalists and always end with the question, “what should I be teaching our students, your future employees?” And the answer has always been the same: Good reporting, writing skills. Always good to be reminded. This is a no-brainer.

And yet some of the dialogue in this report distresses me, particularly the de-emphasis on digital skills such as interactivity. My interviews with audience members suggest they want immediate information they can connect with and do something with.

It occurs to me that the industry is not doing so hot right now. Perhaps we need to rethink skill priority in the effort of experimenting with new content and revenue platforms. I’m not saying do away with good reporting and good writing skills — these are what help set journalists apart from all the other noise. However, my interviews with audience members indicate that if journalists want to remain relevant to their lives, reporters need to re-learn how best to apply those reporting and writing skills in new kinds of formats and presentation styles with linking pathways and connection opportunities.

Revolution may be in order.