No I didn’t.  I don’t know about you, but I rarely think to myself in complete sentences.  Phrasing like this is how we capsulize a more complex experience.  What I believe was going on at the time was something like this: I had a situation I wanted to change (the way I used to manage a series of posts here on my blog no longer worked). And the Organize Series plugin at first glance looked like it could accomplish at least two things:

• Provide automatic navigation between posts in a series (so I wouldn’t have to hard-wire the links).
• Display a list of all the posts in a given series (for me to use as a summary or as a table of contents for the series).

If I’d thought about it longer, I might have articulated another goal: have some way to list all the different series I have.  But I’m not usually that strategic.  Still, what I came up with (provide navigation, display a list) acted as my critical-to-quality elements.  CTQs were widely used at GE when I worked there; I use that acronym partly tongue-in-cheek and partly to highlight informal criteria.

So, I put Organize Series to work, and within 10 minutes I had automatic next/previous navigation for posts in a series, along with an indication that they were part of a series:

(You can click the image to see the entire post.)

When I was still considering whether to use the plugin, I said to my wife, “Wouldn’t it be great to know how to write a plugin?”  On reflection, I realize this statement was another capsulization–a series of them, nested inside each other.  ”Know how to write a plugin” really means:

• “Know how to write a plugin” really means “write a plugin that works….”
• Which in turn means “write one that produces results…”
• Which means “write one that people use to accomplish things that matter to them.”

To me, this is an important distinction for workplace learning: You can learn on your own for your personal satisfaction, and if you’re satisfied, then that’s a sufficient result.  In the workplace, though, you’re part of a larger group (even if that group is you and one individual client), and so the result has to matter within that context.

What’s this got to do with my plugin tinkering?

Think of it as my own workplace learning.  At this point, I was still some distance from my (loosely articulated) end state.  I hadn’t moved much toward my other CTQ of displaying a list of all the posts in a series. In fact, I didn’t yet grasp all the options in the plugin, let alone know how to make them work in a way useful to me.

About 5% of the info from the plugin's page of options

But…In my first 15 minutes with the plugin, I’d achieved a result that I found valuable.  That left me more willing to experiment–which, put another way, says I was somewhat more willing to spend time trying to achieve the next valuable result.

To me, this is a core principle for any type of workplace learning: formal or informal, face-to-face or virtual.  I need to be able to accomplish something that looks to me like real work–produce something that I see has having on-the-job value.  And I need to do that sooner rather than later, which is why twenty minutes on introductions, half an hour on expectations for this workshop, and twenty minutes on learning objectives will invariably drive me to teeth-clenching frustration. Or to eating more of those lowest-bid-hotel pastries.

One of the unexpected outcomes of achieving an initial on-the-job goal is that you end up better able to visualize other goals.  In a sense, learning leads to new problems (or opportunites) because you’re better at grasping the current situation and at visualizing different ones.

In the course of my experimenting with the Organize Series plugin, I did find at least one way to display a list of all the posts in a series.  I can make a box like this appear alongside the title for each post:

The posts in my most complex series

You can click that image if you’d like to see the first post in the series, though I’ve turned this “series post list box” feature off for now, until I learn how to control the way it displays.  Having managed to produce it, though, I’ve picked up several more goals for myself.  I was about to write “learning goals,” but I want to stress that they’re all tied to accomplishment.

• I want to learn how to use code that’s part of the plugin to, for example, display a list of posts like the last example where and when I want it.
• I want to find out how to modify the plugin’s template (the tool it uses to display the full text of all the posts in a series).
• I may even want to learn how to modify the PHP or CSS code to make things happen.

That last is quite a goal for someone who doesn’t really know how to program.  But my various experiments to date, and especially the things I see as successes, have taught me that I can learn to successfully modify small bits of PHP code and achieve relatively high-value results.

So I’m accomplishing what looks like real work to me.

What caught my eye were tweets about yesterday’s general session.  (Session description)  These were live tweets–in other words, a backchannel.

One interpretation of  “backchannel” is a public display of comments in real time–for example, on a screen visible to participants and to presenter.  The keynote didn’t include such a screen, and apparently the speaker wasn’t following tweets with the #heweb09 hashtag.

Almost from the start, things didn’t look good at the Keynote Corral:

• hella drop shadow
• too much background music
• We’ve had two keynotes, neither of whom build websites
• conspiracy theory about the keynote: it’s a test of the power of the back channel; social experiment.
• Can we say preaching to the choir? Save this speech for my faculty
• watching people try to figure out how they can get out, starting to see the OMG I AM TRAPPED looks on faces

Those came in the opening 15 minutes.  From noon till 1 p.m., there were some 550 tweets with the #heweb09 hashtag, the vast majority related to the keynote.  (You can see the entire day’s stream here.  Warning: it gets snarky, but it’s instructive.)

Honestly, I’d hate this to be about my presentation.  One participant used the term “harshtag.”  I liked the color of that, and Holly Rae was kind enough to talk with me later so I could understand the context better.  And we agreed on a number of points, including how much you can learn if you do pay attention to what’s going on.

This post isn’t about this particular conference or keynote, but about how we connect professionally. I tend to see “formal presentation” as something like the Nobel laureate lecture; what I’m talking about is any “structured presentation” — a planned event where one or more people focus on a topic with other people at the same time.

I believe we’re moving from audience (those who hear) to participants (those who take part).  From receiving through reacting to interacting.

Not all participation is necessarily positive: in the #heweb09 stream, you’ll find wisecracks, distractions, and just plain mockery.  And a publicly-displayed backchannel can give extra weight to comments from those who comment on the backchannel.  (It’s a fact.)

The presenter didn’t see the stream, and the Twitters knew he didn’t, but no one seems to have stood up and said, “Hey, you’re talking down to us.”  What would have happened?  I have no idea–but I’ll tell you this: I’m primed for someone saying that to me some day.

Still…

The wisecracks and distractions are there anyway.  You’ve made them yourself, to your neighbor or just to your appreciative self.  One thing the backchannel does is make them visible–which means if you as a participant are only a buffoon, your buffoonery will be more widely evident, just as the presenter’s shortcomings or skills are.

The backchannel also offers the potential for immediate feedback.  It invited participant to contribute to and enrich the discussion — via links, via information they came in with, via ideas to explore later.  And even, as with Holly Rae, by what you say that catches someone else’s attention so you can connect later.

To say nothing of a presenter (or part of a presenting team) deciding to monitor and respond to the stream.  Just like “any questions,” only with bits.  And with the possibility of using the stream after the fact, as I’ve done here.

Yes, people could have spoken out, but at live sessions you’ve been to, who raises a hand?  Who asks questions?  Who adds something?  The framework doesn’t always encourage this behavior, especially in large keynote sessions.

In fact, the main feedback mechanism we currently have, other than mutters and groans, is people voting with their feet: heading out the door, something I saw once when a person whose work I admired make an amateurish, unrehearsed, poorly organized, one-way presentation.

This isn’t a coming phenomenon; it’s here.  Maybe you didn’t see it much at the ASTD ICE conference or the ISPI conference, though I’d argue it’s because those two organizations are further behind than they suspect. I’d like to be going to DevLearn 09, where I expect participants will insist on a high level of participation.

Revised and updated on Oct. 10:

• Here are practical suggestions for presenters from Denise Graveline — whom I learned about, of course, from my conversation with Holly Rae.
• Further context, details, and opinion from me in a more recent post (links to, comments from HEWEB attendees).
• As part of the revision, I got Denise’s name right.

CC-licensed image:
Comedy-club “no heckling” sign by Rick Audet.

He asks whether we’ve all gotten “a little overly precious” and wonders how we can produce value “if we’re all sitting around blogging and Facebook-friending.”

Hey, I like making fun of the trendy (a group I’m not personally acquainted with), and there’s enough silliness and bandwagon-riding in the technology world to last at least till the bicentennial of Canada.  Even so, I think Davenport is possibly worrying too much about too little when he  wonders “whether social media can really be the basis of a solid economy.”

Probably not — but that seems like a lot to ask from a wiki, a blog, or a network site.  I don’t expect my fax machine to be the “basis” of my consulting practice, but it’s a handy tool for certain tasks.

I don’t look to Facebook or LinkedIn to replace how I network, but they extend my potential reach, expand the ways in which I connect, and cost a hell of a lot less than attending professional conferences for their meet-and-greet facets.

I haven’t found a great deal of professional use for Twitter yet, though several people whose opinions I value do.  Interestingly, a visit to my wife’s office might surprise Davenport as it did me.

She is director of communications for a nonprofit, and gets the print version of Public Relations Tactics, a newsletter of PRSA (the Public Relations Society of America).  Some of the headlines on the front page of the October 2008 issue:

• Twitter, the tweet smell of success
  • Maximizing the benefits of the micro-blogging service
  • How the application can be a powerful business tool
• Streamlining social networks with FriendFeed
• Delivering digital discourses in a YouTube age
• Connecting to communities through Facebook groups

One article offers “10 ways that companies can use Twitter” from a PR standpoint, from monitoring tweets from reporters (like those looking for spokespeople or sources), to Twittering at a conference or trade show, to managing reputation (for example, by responding to individuals who tweet about the company).

Another article by Joan Stewart (“The Publicity Hound”) shares the consultant’s experience — and how it changed the way she works.

When I first heard about Twitter, I couldn’t believe busy people would waste time writing about what they were doing in carefully edited 140-character messages.

Now that I’ve been actively Twittering for several months, I find it hard to understand why more companies and nonprofits don’t use this powerful communication tool to monitor public comment about their brand and push their marketing message.

Smart Twitterers do more than that.  They rely on this tool for crisis communication.  Some use it to spot customer service problems almost immediately and respond far more quickly than their expensive customer call centers ever could.

I’ve been looking lately for examples like this — people tackling work problems with technology.  I don’t know Joan Stewart, but I’m pretty sure she hasn’t dropped all her other public relations tools in favor of Twitter — she’s just found a new one that produces results she values.

Caffeinated social software photo by Phil Strahl.

In the September 2008 issue, Jens Jacobsen talks about information architecture for audio.  As he points out, audio is linear. “You can only consume it in a linear fashion and you have to listen to it at a given speed.”

When beginning an audio-related project, ask yourself whether audio is the right medium for your message. In some cases, text is a better choice and in other cases it’s video. Don’t use audio just because you can. If you are certain audio is the best choice, there are several fields to help inform how you implement it.

Jacobsen offers several guidelines from different fields. It’s worth reading the entire post; these are simply highlights from different field — like information architecture:

• State the length. Let people know how long the audio’s going to be.
• Introduce the topic. “In printed text…[this] might seem hackneyed, but with audio… it’s best not to jump right into the topic.”
• Provide orientation from time to time. Let the listener know where he as and what’s coming next. In a long piece, consider giving an option to skip sections via the interface.

From journalism:

• Keep it short. (My opinion: because it’s one way, five minutes of audio feels a lot longer than five minutes of conversation.)
• Repeat often. Jakobsen means a summary at the end, but also repeat the main subjects or themes.  Don’t refer to them by pronouns or synonyms.  You know what you’re talking about, but your listener has nothing to go on but short-term memory.
• Take advantage of the possibilities. Change the style of speech, the tone, the speed.

I especially like the suggestion, “Don’t overuse the thesaurus.” If you’re calling people learners, don’t change them into users, then stakeholders, then students, then knowledge partners.
Suggestions from usability engineering:

• Design for the target audience. “Convince your design team to produce content for the users, not its creators.”
• Create personas. Represent your target audience in the audio.
• Create scenarios. You’ve got those personas sitting around waiting for osmething to do.
• Test with users.

On that last point: in my experience, there isn’t a lot of testing of audio for things like online learning. It’s as if having a professional voice (or [shudder] your boss’s boss’s voice) will overcome any shortcomings in the text. That’s the audio equivalent of believing that if you choose the right font, your text will be more understandable — as opposed to easier to read.

Although interface guru Jakob Nielson recommends usability testing with “only five users,” you can see from the chart in his article that it’s possible to benefit from tryouts with just two or three people.

There’s all kinds of audio in learning: voiceovers, audio as part of video, and plain vanilla podcasts. If you’re going through the trouble to deliver information via audio, it makes sense to think about ways to make the optimum delivery.  Boxes and Arrows is all about delivery.

1931: noted on-air personality Pope Pius XI, with (at right) founder of the Vatican radio system, Guglielmo Marconi.

Apathy or indifference?  Always a close call.

Maybe Facebook can divert some of its talent from ginning up yet more ads and figure out how to recognize an obscure browser like Firefox 3.

Like Christy and Manish, who commented, I’d been using Firefox 3 for some time.  The actual problem resulted from an upgrde to ZoneAlarm Security Suite, without which I wouldn’t turn on the computer.

From the start, I figured it was something like that.  What annoyed me more than the inability to get to Facebook, though, was the cutesy-smug style of the error message.

“Sorry, we’re not cool enough to support your browser.”  Ignoring the faux humility, the fact is that Facebook had no idea whatsoever what browser I was using.  Maybe a cookie needed to be reset; maybe some security level was too high.  Still, it’s usually better to realize you don’t know what you’re talking about — or at least to beat others to that conclusion.

As for “please keep it real?”  A minor irritation, like ham-handed attempts at humor in online learning.

Don’t try so hard, Facebook.