I was following Stephen Fry’s tweets and he referred to AudioBoo, which is, apparently, voice blogging from (and for) the iPhone. I checked it out. No, no, a thousand times no. It’s like people in 5th grade buying their first little tape recorder (do they still make tape recorders?) and fooling around with them. No, no, make that a million times no. On the other hand, thanks to Twitter (although I’m sure this information is available elsewhere) I now know that Fry is doing the Cheshire cat in Burton’s AIW film. That I like. I’d also like to hear his narrations of Harry Potter (Jim Dale only does the US ones). I’ve always been a Fry fan. And so far he’s the only literal celeb I’ve found whose tweets are worth following. Despite the growth of Twitter, I can only mostly envision its use in small groups/communities. Not dissimilarly, the telephone has grown a lot from its invention to today, but we still mostly talk to one person at a time, even though more are possible. Just because the technology can do something doesn’t necessarily mean that it needs to be done.
On that note, Bietz responded recently about computers in rounds, which he’ll be discussing via NDCA (he mentions netbooks, which are so the wave of the future), and it occurred to me that, over the last few weeks I have, uncharacteristically, done a bunch of judging (and, according to S-S, received the incredible accolade of “No one complained that you were overly illegit,” which is high praise indeed), and saw a bunch of computer use in LD rounds. Now, I obviously am in favor of enabling/allowing computer use for debaters in competition. But I have to admit, although most of the people I saw were, indeed, lugging a computer along with them, they really hadn’t gotten the hang of it. The computer was more an added burden than a competitive aid. If people were reading from them, they had them on desks three feet below eye level, hardly a workable podium. They were usually one item among dozens, strewn around half the classroom, when one would expect that the computer would be lessening rather than increasing disorder. One goober kept his computer on the floor where I kept waiting for him to step on it (I did that once; it is, in hindsight, an excellent way to rationalize why now is a good time to upgrade, but otherwise, oy). Nobody seemed particularly adept at finding what they were looking for, either on their own or when asked by the opponent. More than one person did an emergency recharge mid-round. In short, it was a circus.
Let’s go back to the operative phrase in this post. Just because the technology can do something doesn’t necessarily mean that it needs to be done. Call that Menick’s Law #118. The point of using new technology is to enhance or improve or change for the better. At the point where none of those is happening, then why are you doing it? Because you can? Well, it turns out that, no, you can’t. I am probably the worst person in the world to fumble with a computer in front of, because I already have strong beliefs about computer use from both a systems perspective and a mass-marketing perspective (i.e., experience derived from the D.J.), not to mention simply bloviating about anything at the drop of a hat. What I’m beginning to detect, albeit anecdotally and derived from little evidence, is that computers have become the latest inane computer fashion. Two years ago, you couldn’t swing a cat in a round without hitting a postmodernist. Now, your cat hits some yoyo ineptly attempting to compete from the computer screen. If both debaters are doing it, you’ve got the LD version of Mutually Assured Destruction.
I have said this before many times. The youth of today are no more inherently technically ept than my aged mother. (I have empirical evidence to back this up, by the way, if you want it.) Just because the youth of today can text in the dark while driving 90 miles an hour listing to Death Cab for Cutie and drinking a skinny triple latte does not indicate some innate skill set. It merely indicates mastery of a set of skills that the youth of today find important. My aged mother can darn a sock, which is a skill that the youth of her day found important. Anyone can master what they want to master. Fewer people can master what they need to master. And fewer people still are innately technological. You know you are a techie when you know the controversy over the Digg bar. You know you are a techie if you look with disdain at script monkeys. You are not a techie if you hit 80 in WoW. You are a techie if you understand the phrase “hit 80 in WoW” and have never played the game.
My point is, if you are going to use computers in competition, please know what you are doing. Be as prepared as you would be if you were using an accordion folder, or colored pens, or a flow pad. At the point where you look like a yoyo, overwhelmed by the technology no one forced you to use, then there will be repercussions. Can I give high speaker points to someone who is fumbling finding things, running around the room looking for a socket, unable to present the opponent with the quote in question? I don’t think so. I don’t ask that you become a techie; that’s like saying that you ought to be a natural musician. Either you are or you aren’t. But don’t use it if you haven’t mastered it. Debate competition is all about mastery. It’s about being authoritative. That’s where speaker points come from. Nobody gets a 30 when they crawl into the room and squeak hesitantly. Looking knowledgeable (and better yet, being knowledgeable) is the road to success. Computers won’t make you a better debater on face. They will give you more to worry about during a round. If you can’t handle it, don’t do it. No one will even notice. But if you do do it, and can’t handle it, they will notice. It’s as simple as that.
1 comment:
I'm a techie!
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