Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Scientific Discourse- The Good, The Bad and The Public Sphere



The scientific genre is an interesting focus because it has so many different facets and possibilities. To the common person (including myself and many readers of this blog), unpacking scientific discourse may be a daunting task for the reason that we simply do not have knowledge of the highly technical jargon used in these papers and may not have the time to sort through thirty pages of a deeply causal scientific findings. Fear not, for there are different outlets available which have taken this task upon them- one of which being the omnipresent blog. Scientific blogs are significant in that they have the undoubtedly difficult task of taking highly scientific information and repurposing it to make it readable and relevant to an altered and broader audience. Furthermore, this requires the blogger (scientific bloggers are generally not scientists themselves) to transpose information gathered by others while making sure they present themselves as a credible source. One would think, as a public forum and agenda-setting agent, the blogger would strive to uphold the ideals of responsible scientific journalism- to Killingsworth and Palmer, describe a responsible scientific journalist as a journalist who is objective, informative, information/research focused, and representative (in some form) both sides of the argument.  While many scientific journals strive to uphold those principles and remain unbiased, bloggers, as ‘citizen journalists’, have much more leniency and decision in what subjects they cover and what slant is taken (Rettberg, 84). Time and time again, this freedom of press is used in a way that is deceptive or illegitimate- for example, taking information and utilizing diction in a way which limits the audience’s ability to decide how they feel about a situation. This situation is not ideal for the objective reader, but this misconstrued information is often imbibed and taken as truth. Why is that?

Enter Jonah Lehrer. As a scientific blogger, he has written articles on a myriad of subjects and for many different scientific websites. However, after years of gaining credibility and making scientific knowledge available to the average web browser, there was a shocking discovery; Lehrer had been plagiarizing himself numerous times, often using paragraph after paragraph of his already-published material in a brand new blog post. This made his large following take a step back and question Lehrer’s credibility… After all, how could information used in one context be correct in another, dissimilar context? Additionally, the readers of his blog posts were curious as to how they succumbed to his devious actions and incorrect information. In an effort not to discredit Lehrer’s audience, the blogger is incredibly talented at such plagiarism. When juxtaposed, his fraudulent efforts and statements not too dissimilar from those truthful and honest ones. I have taken one of his blog posts, titled “Out of the Blue” and looked at his use of narrative, recontextualization and stases in relation to the propagation of his potentially falsified or biased information.

As a disclaimer, I am not saying that Lehrer’s entire article is a falsity. I am simply looking at the different ways Lehrer utilized different rhetorical functions that would render his information biased or misrepresented. The article in question describes a man-made supercomputer which had been built to resemble the human brain, down to the 10,000 neurons and 30 million synaptic connections in a single neocortical column. While the information is fascinating, what really struck me was an apparent lack of Grant-Davie’s exigence. While I’m sure there is an audience which was thirsting for information on the blurring of the line between human and computer, the article does not take any measures to exhibit an apparent need for this information in the public sphere. I came to this realization that the article read like a well-articulated collection of facts about ‘the blue brain’, which are not utilized to direct the audience towards a greater purpose and/or are not attached to something that would directly affect the audience. A rhetorical situation which called this discourse into being is decidedly lacking and left unaddressed- This leads me to question the stases which are used and why. As I mentioned before, most of Lehrer’s post is comprised of facts and explanations of how ‘Blue Brain’ was built, meaning that a large part of the article stays in the first two stases (definition and cause). Fahnestock and Secor, in their text on Stases, conjecture that an audience who is appealed to within the first couple stases must value the inquiry at that level- meaning that the value of the information lies within itself.  This is true, when applied to the context of highly scientific and technical information; the definition of value shifts as a direct result of a shift to the public sphere. The audience no longer appears to be possible to value the information for science’s sake, and the public sphere needs something else in order to determine its value within their own lives. Leaving the article in the first two stases means that the audience has remained essentially the same and when questioning the legitimacy of the way Lehrer presents the information, the lack of exigence and external value make the information easy to plagarize, reuse, and recontextualize.  
Looking closely at Lehrer’s use of use of the English language, it is easy to notice how Lehrer used a combination of narrative and scientific jargon to compose what is read as a story. Much like how Killingsworth and Palmer described Time Magazine’s focus on the scientists rather than the research and information, Lehrer spotlights the scientist Henry Markram. In between descriptions of the intensity of the supercomputer, we learn of Markram’s frustration with the sheer amount of data and working with different scientists.  It even follows Markram as he contends with skeptics as well as his own failure.  The scientific information about the Blue Brain has been recontextualized and juxtaposed against vivid imagery and narrative, shaping the information into an article about the scientific process and the difficultly of science as an area of study. There is constant reference to Bazerman’s ‘intertext,’ mostly in the form of Markram’s personal anecdotes and the repetition of Markham’s titles. This focus on the personalities involved in the science (rather than the science itself) may bolster Lehrer’s credibility while acting as a scapegoat at the same time. Killingsworth and Palmer describe how the audience can form a community depending on who the text identifies with, and Lehrer makes it obvious that his aim is to align his audience with the scientific community. Because the focus is on Markram, Lehrer is able to word the information with any slant or convictions he wants without his credibility being questioned.

I would like to focus heavily on Killingsworth and Palmer's idea of the conventions for different genres when discussing Lehrer’s “Out of the Blue” piece as a whole. The text itself resembles the highly technical discourse from which it was written, but the contention between the cold facts of the Blue Brain and the warm arguments of Markram’s feat are ultimately public in essence. I believe that this information is misrepresented because Lehrer makes assumptions about his audience that are not necessarily true- as a result, he pulls the information in so many different directions that it is nearly impossible for the audience to make any logical opinions on it scientifically.  Whether or not the information is illegitimate is up for debate, but it is clear that Lehrer did not strive to lead his audience towards a clear and inherently-beneficial conclusion about the information which he presented. 

 Works Cited

Bazerman, Charles. “Intertextuality.” What Writing Does and How It Does It: And Introduction to Analyzing Texts and Textual Practice, Ed. Charles Bazerman and Paul Prior. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, 2004. 83-96. 

Fahnestock, Jeanne and Marie Secor. "The Stases in Scientific and Literary Argument." Written Communication 5.4 (Oct 1988): 427-443.

Grant-Davie, Keith. “Rhetorical Situations and Their Constituents.” Rhetoric Review 15.2 (Spring 1997): 263-279. 

Killingsworth, M. Jimmie, and Jacqueline S. Palmer. "Transformations of Scientific Discourse in the News Media." In Ecospeak: Rhetoric and Environmental Politics in America. Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois U P, 1992. 133-160.

Lehrer, Jonah. "Out of the Blue." Seed Magazine. Seed Media Group, 3 March 2008. Web. 29 January 2013.

Rettberg, Jill Walker. Blogging. Cambridge, UK: Polity, 2008. Excerpts from "What Is a Blog?", "Citizen Journalists," and "Blogging as Narrative." 4-30, 84-110, 111-126.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Valuing Values- Science, Audience and the Creation of Value in Both

The texts that Fahnestock/Secor and Killingsworth/Palmer both present are interesting because they focus on not only the creation of audience through discourse, but how that audience finds value in the aforementioned discourse. To them, the value of different examples of rhetoric can be deciphered through a close analysis of the audience, which is a collective whole and does not appear to reflect any qualities of Grant-Davie’s “multi-modal audience” or the unintentional audience.

  Fahnestock and Secor begin by explaining how classical stases can be applied to modern subjects. Stases are important in composing because they not only provide a system of invention and a principle for arrangement, but they also search for the analysis of audience and context. For the most part, topics of value are usually expressed using a certain stases, or compound of stases. The stases they specify are questions of fact, definition, cause, value and procedure (and sometimes questions of policy). These stases are closely related to Grant-Davie’s term exigence, in that they both function in a similar way- that is, exploring the need of the discourse. However, I believe they are not one in the same. I say this because exigence creates a rhetorical situation which calls forth the discourse, while stases have a multitude of uses, one of which is recognizing the need of the audience. Fahnestock and Secor both seem to believe that the audience is appealed to, and created by, the use and disuse of different stases.

Before Fahnestock and Secor explore stases in the scientific and literary genre, they clarify that the stases also operate as a set of assumptions about the reactions of the audience. They give them example of a text which proposes action with the highest stases of value, but an argument using a lower stases might also move an audience to action. It in within that example that they explore the possibilities of ‘writing within a genre,’ explaining that the conventions of each different genre are not concrete, but defined by what the audience desires or expects. They then work to explore the stases in two different genres, one of science and one of literary analysis. When studying scientific articles, they writers often stay in one (lower) stasis, which is used to construct an audience. “Scholars usually focus on well-defined issues for limited audiences” (430). In the literary genre, the authors use the higher stases to debate the relative value of the work they are analyzing, assuming that the audience already knows general definitions and value. It is interesting to note that while the value of the literary genre is explicitly stated, the value of the scientific genre exists within itself. This idea, that the scientific genre is inherently deconstructed and its value cannot be left ineffable, is echoed in the work of Killingsworth and Palmer as well.

 Killingsworth and Palmer assumed the task of analyzing the same topic using different genres/frameworks. They first distinguish between what is ‘news’ and what is ‘human interest’, defining human interest as ‘journalistic science that has a social value’; human interest pieces say that science must be connected to something larger in order to hold any value. They study a magazine known for an extensive use of human interest stories, Time, when it began focusing on the topic of global warming. The articles featuring this topic enhanced the drama of the situation, connecting the effects of global warming direct to human activities such as the economy and health concerns. Before long, this ‘popular image’ of science gained a sensationalist aspect, reaching a large audience. This use of applied science served its purpose- to make a previously scientific piece of discourse available and applicable to the life of the regular human being. But within it are questions of depth and sincerity- as well as questions of whether or not this treatment of scientific discourse can fully function as an environmentalist movement.

 When we look at the global warming topic in the scientific genre, we are able to notice many distinct differences. For one, the Science articles focus of the research rather than the names and personalities of those people involved. They also work off of a format which ignores the win/lose aspect and lacks a defined beginning, middle and end. Killingsworth and Palmers focuses for a moment on the use of Bazerman’s intertext, which is inherent in nearly any scientific discourse. All in all, the scientific discourse on global warming lacks almost any entertainment value. In fact, K/P states that the value is found within the information itself, that the expected audience does not need the information to be attached to any other applied sciences in order to be valuable. The dissonance between these two genres can be found when noticing that the Time article makes the audience feel distant from the scientists, using verbiage such as “scientists estimate,” while the scientific article works to make the general public, so that the reader assumes an indentify with the scientific community (and solidifying it’s scientific objectivism).

Scientific genres and topics are difficult to appeal to the general public. In both articles, the audience is stagnant and unchanging. They assume one position and retain it, and are either appealed to or ignore by the use of stases and the concept of human interest. In contrast, the rhetor seems to serve a multitude of purposes at once, from informer to policy maker to critic. Killingsworth and Palmer look to see how information is generated depending on the journalist’s understanding of value and how it is portrayed to the audience, which Fahnestock and Secor look deeply into how the audience’s understanding of value controls how the discourse is created. When combined, we can see the effects of these different understanding of value, as well as how they either can work for, or against, science.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

An Obscured Author- Good or Bad?

Scientific and technical discourse is an interesting subject because, from an unassuming point of view, it contains a very specific and to-the-point subject matter. When I find myself with a text that has to do with a scientific or technical topic, I often elect to not read it simply because I believe my time is better spent imbibing a topic that better suits my needs. I find it thoroughly more enjoyable to sit down and read light-hearted anecdotes or opinionated blog posts- I, personally, find texts which simply regurgitate information to be droll. I can imagine that I am the type of audience which those writers of scientific and technical blogs disdain; but with the success and fame of some technical writers, it has become obvious that there are enough audience members in the world who are affianced with the topic to make up for my small faction. Perhaps, these writers are successful because they have developed the ability to engage those aforementioned ‘unconcerned’ and ‘blasé’ people and adopt them into their following. The ability to appeal to those outside of your main audience is a main key in a successful piece of textual rhetoric and these writers have seemingly mastered that technique.

Blogs, as a relatively new medium, functions differently than most well-established types of rhetoric. For one, blogging is very accessible. Whereas print media are relatively expensive, cumbersome, and sometimes difficult to locate, Blogger (a popular blogging website) is advertised as a ‘free publishing tool’ and is available to anyone who has the ability to use the internet. Any person with a working mind and two functioning hands can create a blog, record their thoughts, read other blog posts and circulate them around the internet. The nature of the internet has made the process of disseminating published materials incredibly easy. Many writers utilize this medium simply for this fact, hoping that their texts will ‘go viral,’ much like the work of bloggers Perez Hilton and Arianna Huffington. With this, comes a great deal of social responsibility. Blogging, as an agenda-setting medium, is held (at least partially) accountable for creating or perpetuating important topics of discussion- that is, news stories, opinion pieces, critiques and much of the like. This is where scientific and technical bloggers begin to diverge from the masses; for their topic of choice focuses much less on opinion and much more on fact and referencing to the work of others. Their ability to argue a point still lies in their capability to frame situations and how they develop their ideas. Having recognized the nature of the blog, we can see that this creates an interesting rhetorical situation to which they have chosen to respond. In order to address these rhetorical situations, scientific and technical writers must focus heavily on intertext to create a sense of trust between themselves and the reader in order to not only engage them, but have them accept their points. I have taken two scientific writers, Jonah Lehrer and David DiSalvo, and compared their respective blog posts to analyze them with the ideas of Bazerman’s ‘intertext’ and Grant-Davie’s ‘rhetorical situation’ to see how they develop a sense of trust with their audience while advancing their own argument simultaneously.

David Disalvo, on September 15th 2012, wrote an article that was titled “Is Your Cat Hosting a Human Suicide Parasite?” Once you were drawn in by the more-than-slightly concerning title, you read a page and a half long claim that the ordinary housecat housed a parasite that, once in contact with humans, caused an increased likelihood of suicidal tendencies. The rhetorical situation of this certain text is obscured- was there an alarming amount of cat owners who were contemplating suicide? I believe the answer to that question is no. Grant-Davie explains the importance of the third and fourth stases when considering the rhetorical situation of a text, which are cause and value. We are currently in an age of an increased awareness of the toxicity around us- from H1N1 to anthrax, from HIV to superbugs. These instances do not act as catalysts and this article is not so much as a response to them as it is a response to the air of concern that has been created. The value of this piece is then found in its informative characteristics; not so much in Disalvo’s attempt to quell a rising panic or provide a prevention technique (or lack thereof). That being said, it is important to look at Disalvo’s purposeful use of language in order to craft a rather absurd argument.

In the very first paragraph of the post, there is a correction that was clearly editing in after the post had been published, clarifying that cat feces were not the only method of contracting the bactria. This was important because, even though it may have not been purposeful, Disalvo gains the credibility of a fair and honest author. After the correction, the blog post decidedly lacks an increased use of technical terms, save for the use of the bacteria Toxoplasma Gondii- which Disalvo thankfully reference as T. Gondii for the remainder of the post. Disalvo also made a large effort to create lists of examples for his audience, rather than giving a broadened term and expecting the reader to understand what he meant. This was noticeable when he wrote about the suicides the women experienced, and again when he touched on subsequent mental illnesses. This can possibly serve to create a sort of ‘internal lingo’ that is shared between the reader and the writer, reflecting Bazerman’s 5th technique of intertextual representation, ‘using recognizable phrasing’. To bolster his assertions, Disalvo’s article is comprised almost entirely of summaries of past studies done on this subject and quotes from the scientists. Relying so heavily on the concept on intertext brings the readers some context to the situation, so that they are able to understand that this feline problem as a long-standing issue which requires years and years of research. There is even a momentary reference to future research that will be done. This frequent use of intertext can also been seen as challenging- not that the frequently references are directly challenging his own assertions, but that they are challenging the audience’s understanding of the subject. Perhaps, if the audience realizes how little they understand on the subject, they might be more likely to take Disalvo’s words at face value.

The rhetorical situation in Jonah Lehrer’s article is more defined than that of Disalvo’s. Mostly everyone who reads his blog post will know what Las Vegas is and gambling- but not many people understand just why this happens. The value of this text is also obvious, because if people understand the psychology behind the ‘almost-win,’ they might understand the addiction a little bit more. What is first noticeable about Jonah Lehrer’s article about gambling is that the tone is notably more relaxed. Although his articles is also entirely composed of other studies He even uses words such as “sucks” and “P.S” which may resonate more with his audience, again echoing Bazerman’s 5th and 6th level of intertextual representation- it even made me giggle. The terminology in the article is also easy to understand and relatable, electing to call it a “kind of casino for rats” rather than a heavy scientific term and referencing “rolling a pair of pair of dice on a green felt table,” an image which almost everyone can relate to. But does this work to create a sense of trust with the audience- or does it make his argument seem too simple, and therefore, ungrounded in science?

Who exactly are the audiences that Disalvo and Lehrer trying to reach? The subjects are apples and oranges, but both apply crafty techniques which defines their audiences. Grant- Davies urges us to think of an audience not as “those people who read the text” but as a dynamic group of individuals, that are constantly being defined by the constraints of the rhetorical text. That is, that the author takes an active part in creating his own audience. Lehrer, by writing about an easier-to-understand and more relatable topic, assumingly begins his article appealing to a larger crowd than does Disalvo, who’s more biological topic is constrained by factors of cat ownership, location (many studies were located in Denmark) and mere interest. Lehrer’s own article is also constrained by factors of internet accessibility and understanding of the scientific method but includes many other factors that appeal to difference audiences, such as me, who may have otherwise not read the article (for example, he provides the instance of learning to shoot a basketball for those who do not gamble). Disalvo, though repeated references to complicated professional titles and terminology, appears to be unconcerned with creating a universal audience, but rather appealing to the audience he already has. It must be recognized that Disalvo writes on a great majority of topics and must have a large amount of ‘followers’ who read his articles. By creating a relationship with his narrowed audience, he assures himself an effective and engaging text.

These rhetors are part of a multiplicity- meaning they play multiple roles in these rhetorical situations. Being that these texts are online, we do not have a face to put to these words more are we limited geographically. For this reason, the audience may find the idea of an author obscured- especially when the texts are constantly referencing and drawing upon the work of other scientists. In some situations, the idea of an unknown author, who actually consists of many different scientists and writers, may turn an audience off from a certain text. Variably, this ‘trust’ between the rhetor and the audience wavers. However, within the scientific community, I believe that this effect is used to its advantage- if it’s in the majority, it is more likely to be correct. Each author is capable of identifying and creating their own dynamic audience, knowing how to develop their own argument while making sure the audience is at a comfortable level of understanding. It’s because of this constant flow of replicable facts from one scientist to the other that makes the genre, as a whole, author-less.

Works Cited

Bazerman, Charles. “Intertextuality.” What Writing Does and How It Does It: And Introduction to Analyzing Texts and Textual Practice, Ed. Charles Bazerman and Paul Prior. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum, 2004. 83-96.

Disalvo, David. “Is Your Cat Hosting a Human Suicide Paracite?” The Daily Brain. 15 September 2012. Web. 17 January 2013.

Grant-Davie, Keith. “Rhetorical Situations and Their Constituents.” Rhetoric Review 15.2 (Spring 1997): 263-279.

Harmon, Jonah. “The Near-Miss Effect.” Ideas. Wired.com. 28 March 2011. Web. 17 January 2013.