Steven Johnson's book, Where Good Ideas Come From

Thanks for posting these, Margaret. Both really interesting (as well as entertaining!) and I like the fact that your response itself involves multimedia, so thanks for adding these as the discussions here in Digital Is are just getting up and running.

In the TED talk I was particularly struck by Steven Johnson's examples of how "liquid networks" support innovation, and how, at least in the one example of scientists sharing in a lab setting around a conference table at their weekly sharing meeting, that more often than not what was shared that led to the good ideas were "mistakes, errors and noise in the signal."

Interesting to think about what can be learned from that too.

This resource, and Margaret's response, reminds me of the debates I used to have (raging ones, actually) when Napster was front page news as the music pirates of MP3 sharing. My friends would always take the side of the music companies (see how well they have adapted) and I would stake out this ideal position on the other side, arguing that "art" in all of its forms should be free to be re-used, re-mixed and adapted for various purposes, and therefore, Napster was a good thing.

Note my word, ideal. I knew then, and I know now, that this concept potentially hurts the artist, who then may create less art, and so on and so on. But I hold true to the idea that the world is a better place when we have free access to all kinds of art -- music, writing, paintings, etc.

I wrote this poem a few years ago, when I was having yet another debate with a friend on the same topic (although Napster had long since been hammered by the legal process and iTunes was just emerging to make us pay for everything).

Adrift on a Raft

(the podcast version)

"Art should be free,"
I insisted but she didn't believe me --
she couldn't believe me -- she wouldn't believe me --
and she insisted on arguing her case for copyright laws
and profit margins
and the theft of ideas through digital handshakes,
advertising along sidebars of poetry and images and music --
after which she drifted into some story about the writer suffering for his art
while his words floated free on someone's high-tech liquid screen
with no compensation,
no expectation of payback for all that thinking and planning and producing.

Her eyes teemed with fury as she talked and I, well, I just blinked,
and quietly hid my hard drive from her gaze so she would not think me
the pirate that I am, the collector of words.
The point I wanted to prove to her was:
if the art is powerful,
if the art is meaningful,
if the art is transformative,
then let it go by releasing it to the wind,
and pray that it will move someone to tears
or laughter
without us first grabbing a dollar from their wallet or a coin from their pocket.
We suffer enough with pop culture stereotypes not to add
"shakedown artist" to the list and what is money anyway
in a place where ideas are currency?
She laughed at me then, scoffed at such notions, and ended our conversation
with a simple, "You are so naive," and then left me with my idealism under attack.

So here I am, now, turning her into a poem
and then pushing her out the door of my mind on a raft of words
into your ear, dear reader, dear listener,
hoping only that she finds anchor in some friendly port
on the other side of the world.

 

Margaret,

Thanks for posting these videos.  It reminds me of the importance of teacher collaboration, which is the heart of the Writing Project.  By opening our classroom doors and venturing into other's teaching lives our ideas have a chance to evolve.   

The interconnected world needs to be reflected in our educational climate as well.  I know some of my best teaching moments are a result of brorrowed ideas.  Steven reminds us that sharing ideas is the engine of innovation.  This is true in education as well.

I hope the next generation of teachers embraces connectedness and openness.

Thanks for sharing,

Jason