If you look at my bookshelves (or have seen the reviews I write for Books we Like), you'll know that I'm quite partial to near future science fiction. I wouldn't go so far as to call them dystopian novels, although they're not often glowing depictions of the future (but that would probably make for a boring narrative). So it's not surprising that I'm writing about another story in this theme. Set twenty years in the future, The Last of Us describes an America where the human population has been ravaged by a fungal parasite that overwhelms the brain, driving all infected to attack and kill anyone they come across. Most of the uninfected people live in quarantine zones in the remnants of cities, where their lives are tightly controlled by the military. Outside of these zones, pockets of survivors attempt to develop their own communities whilst defending themselves from the infected and the dangers of a lawless society. The story follows Joel, a smuggler, as he unwillingly escorts teenage Ellie across the country in search of an organisation called the Fireflies.
So far so good, but there's one major difference with this story - it's actually a computer game, not a book. The Last of Us was created by the incomparable Naughty Dog studio who developed the brilliant Uncharted series; as such they're no strangers to games which focus on the narrative as much as the technology. But The Last of Us takes the depth of engagement to a whole new level. Uncharted is like watching an action movie starring your favourite hero - it's entertaining but you watch it at a distance. In contrast, The Last of Us is like reading a book that you can't put down - you are completely drawn into that world.
Some of that is the outstanding visuals. From cities where nature is slowly reclaiming its territory to makeshift hideouts where people have made a desperate last stand - the post-apocalypse has never looked so beautiful and yet so bleak. But mostly, it's through engaging with the characters. Both Joel and Ellie have painful histories which colour both their attitude to and interaction with each other. Neither are saints though, nor figures of pity, and it's this complexity that brings them to life. For all the computer gaming that I've done I can honestly say that I've never felt emotionally invested in what is fundamentally a bunch of pixels. And the ending, when it came, was heart-wrenchingly painful. It probably breaks all the rules in how to finish a game but is perfectly imperfect, and hence believable. So, if asked what my favourite story of 2013 is, I might have to admit that it's not a book at all. But what a game...
Monday, 23 December 2013
Friday, 6 December 2013
Revisiting value
 |
| Capturing memories in the rain at Orchard Roots |
My first post on the Know your Bristol project focused on memory and its value. So it's quite fitting that, nearly two years later, I'm returning to the same thoughts about what we consider to be of value. We had a big team gathering the other day and my colleague Nate spoke about the idea of ephemeral value and instrumental value. The digitised objects and photos, and the oral histories that we have gathered during Know your Bristol all have ephemeral value - that is they are valued because they are there and people can see them, share them, enjoy them. But many of them also have instrumental value as they are being used by people, amongst other things to help inform decisions. My colleague Pete explained how many planning applications that he sees in his role at Bristol City Council have incorporated elements of Know Your Place - not just the maps but the images and memories as well. So it's clear that these stories and images have a value, and a life, beyond our project here.
Monday, 23 September 2013
Research Encounter #14: Deborah Wilson
I’ve been spending a lot of time with Dr Deborah Wilson recently as she’s the Academic Director for this year’s Thinking Futures Festival (which is fabulous, naturally!). But one of her many hats is that of a Reader in Public Policy, where she works on the use of incentive mechanisms in improving schools’ educational outcomes.
What’s the point of school league tables? On the one hand, they are meant to be a source of information about school quality and so used to inform choice. The theory here is that people choose on the basis of how good a school is and that gives the schools an incentive to improve. But they’re also used to set targets, publicly rank schools and create reputation effects. So there are these top-down targets from government and the bottom-up accountability structure based on choice, with this same set of information in the middle. Deborah’s research looks at various implications of mechanisms on how schools perform, with a recent example considering the effect of the abolition of league tables in Wales following devolution. Performance in Welsh secondary schools fell relative to England by just under two GCSE grades per student per year after abolition, with the lowest average ability schools affected most negatively. The schools that were compared were mostly rural so the extent to which choice can be a driver for improvement in that environment is quite low. As such, Deborah concludes that it was the lack of the public name-and-shame potential that caused performance to go down.
What’s the point of school league tables? On the one hand, they are meant to be a source of information about school quality and so used to inform choice. The theory here is that people choose on the basis of how good a school is and that gives the schools an incentive to improve. But they’re also used to set targets, publicly rank schools and create reputation effects. So there are these top-down targets from government and the bottom-up accountability structure based on choice, with this same set of information in the middle. Deborah’s research looks at various implications of mechanisms on how schools perform, with a recent example considering the effect of the abolition of league tables in Wales following devolution. Performance in Welsh secondary schools fell relative to England by just under two GCSE grades per student per year after abolition, with the lowest average ability schools affected most negatively. The schools that were compared were mostly rural so the extent to which choice can be a driver for improvement in that environment is quite low. As such, Deborah concludes that it was the lack of the public name-and-shame potential that caused performance to go down.
Wednesday, 28 August 2013
Scratching the surface
A virus has infected the entire human race. Otherwise symptomless, it has one devastating effect: all women die in childbirth. People blame terrorists, nature or God. Society reels at the thought of its imminent demise while scientists race against the clock to find a solution.
This is the premise of The testament of Jessie Lamb, by Jane Rogers, and an excellent one at that. When I heard about this book I imagined a novel in the style of some of Margaret Atwood's works. And there are shades of this, especially when Jessie's father (a scientist) is describing the ever more desperate and ethically dubious techniques that are being employed. But one of the book's strengths turns out to be its greatest weakness: the author's ability to capture the personality of its 16 year old narrator. Jessie's viewpoint and her actions are coloured by her teenage self-absorption and sense of invulnerability and entitlement.
As such, we never hear about the wider impact that the virus is having on the world, on governments and services and society as a whole - Jessie's view is limited to her small world and the people she knows. There's no real mention of how the virus managed to infect the entire world so quickly, nor how it was created. Even the activist groups that Jessie and her peers get involved in seem more interested in young people's rights and animal testing than the current situation. Worrying about carbon dioxide emissions and trying to recreate a rural commune seem a bit pointless when the human race looks to be extinct in a generation. Jessie's decision to put herself forward for a risky medical experiment initially seems baffling. It's only when trying to imagine a teenage mindset that it becomes clear. Jessie's grand gesture is the hollow posturing of someone who wants to 'make a difference' without thinking of the real consequences. She's happy to sacrifice her life because she has no concept of what it is to live.
None of this makes the book a bad read; on the contrary, it's gripping and well written. But I can't help wondering what it would have been like if it had been written through the eyes of someone a little older, wiser and more aware of the world. Then, I think, it would have joined the ranks of the great near-future stories such as The Handmaid's Tale and Fahrenheit 451. As it is, the book merely scratches at the surface of a fabulous concept, leaving me with a sense of what might have been.
This is the premise of The testament of Jessie Lamb, by Jane Rogers, and an excellent one at that. When I heard about this book I imagined a novel in the style of some of Margaret Atwood's works. And there are shades of this, especially when Jessie's father (a scientist) is describing the ever more desperate and ethically dubious techniques that are being employed. But one of the book's strengths turns out to be its greatest weakness: the author's ability to capture the personality of its 16 year old narrator. Jessie's viewpoint and her actions are coloured by her teenage self-absorption and sense of invulnerability and entitlement.
As such, we never hear about the wider impact that the virus is having on the world, on governments and services and society as a whole - Jessie's view is limited to her small world and the people she knows. There's no real mention of how the virus managed to infect the entire world so quickly, nor how it was created. Even the activist groups that Jessie and her peers get involved in seem more interested in young people's rights and animal testing than the current situation. Worrying about carbon dioxide emissions and trying to recreate a rural commune seem a bit pointless when the human race looks to be extinct in a generation. Jessie's decision to put herself forward for a risky medical experiment initially seems baffling. It's only when trying to imagine a teenage mindset that it becomes clear. Jessie's grand gesture is the hollow posturing of someone who wants to 'make a difference' without thinking of the real consequences. She's happy to sacrifice her life because she has no concept of what it is to live.
None of this makes the book a bad read; on the contrary, it's gripping and well written. But I can't help wondering what it would have been like if it had been written through the eyes of someone a little older, wiser and more aware of the world. Then, I think, it would have joined the ranks of the great near-future stories such as The Handmaid's Tale and Fahrenheit 451. As it is, the book merely scratches at the surface of a fabulous concept, leaving me with a sense of what might have been.
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
Research Encounter #13: Sarah Gosling
Sarah Gosling has been part of our team for the last few months, working with us on the Seeds of Change project. But she’s also about to start the 3rd year of her PhD and, by the time this is posted, will be in Kenya digging up fossils of the earliest humans.
Inspiration for a PhD thesis can come from anywhere. For Sarah, it came from a project in the School of Chemistry which was looking at pigs and how you could determine what they were eating from their bones. By feeding the pigs particular diets and then examining the isotopes in their bones, they could see how the diet correlated to the composition of the bones. She realised that some of those diets mirrored the diets of people from around 11,000 years ago, at the time of the introduction of farming. In places like Denmark and Portugal, there is evidence of people living on the coast eating loads of fish and then suddenly not eating fish anymore and going into farming. Researchers tend to talk about the changes in society and population growth, and the impact on art and civilisation. But there would also have been changes in their bones due to the shifting diet. So Sarah has been looking at the internal structure of the pigs’ vertebral bone and observing the differences; since pigs develop in a very similar way to humans they can be used as a model. The next stage of her research will be to consider how this information changes the way we think about humans as they first went into farming.
Inspiration for a PhD thesis can come from anywhere. For Sarah, it came from a project in the School of Chemistry which was looking at pigs and how you could determine what they were eating from their bones. By feeding the pigs particular diets and then examining the isotopes in their bones, they could see how the diet correlated to the composition of the bones. She realised that some of those diets mirrored the diets of people from around 11,000 years ago, at the time of the introduction of farming. In places like Denmark and Portugal, there is evidence of people living on the coast eating loads of fish and then suddenly not eating fish anymore and going into farming. Researchers tend to talk about the changes in society and population growth, and the impact on art and civilisation. But there would also have been changes in their bones due to the shifting diet. So Sarah has been looking at the internal structure of the pigs’ vertebral bone and observing the differences; since pigs develop in a very similar way to humans they can be used as a model. The next stage of her research will be to consider how this information changes the way we think about humans as they first went into farming.
Monday, 29 July 2013
Research Encounter #12: John Downer
OK, I’m cheating on this one – I was catching up with Dr John Downer, from the School of Sociology, Politics and International Studies, before he went off to the States for 6 months. But drinking cider on a boat in the evening sun seemed like the perfect time to talk about research (or is that just me?).
Before we build complicated technologies, from nuclear power plants to banking computers, we have to prove that they’re not going to explode or break down in a catastrophic way. However, if we consider a thing with millions of moving parts, working for years on end where all sorts of incredibly unlikely things can happen in that time – proving that it won’t fail is philosophically impossible. But we have to know before we build it, rather than just testing it afterwards. Aircraft are an excellent example of this: it shouldn’t be possible to prove their safety because there are just too many ambiguities involved, but we have lots of aircraft and have accrued billions of hours of flight in total. And it turns out that aircraft about as reliable as we predict them to be, which creates a philosophical problem – given that we shouldn’t be able to prove how safe things are, how come it seems to work? So John is looking at how organisations assess the reliability of aircraft that haven’t been built yet, why that seems to work and the implications for other technologies.
Before we build complicated technologies, from nuclear power plants to banking computers, we have to prove that they’re not going to explode or break down in a catastrophic way. However, if we consider a thing with millions of moving parts, working for years on end where all sorts of incredibly unlikely things can happen in that time – proving that it won’t fail is philosophically impossible. But we have to know before we build it, rather than just testing it afterwards. Aircraft are an excellent example of this: it shouldn’t be possible to prove their safety because there are just too many ambiguities involved, but we have lots of aircraft and have accrued billions of hours of flight in total. And it turns out that aircraft about as reliable as we predict them to be, which creates a philosophical problem – given that we shouldn’t be able to prove how safe things are, how come it seems to work? So John is looking at how organisations assess the reliability of aircraft that haven’t been built yet, why that seems to work and the implications for other technologies.
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Research Encounter #11: Peter Spooner
Peter Spooner, a 1st year PhD student in the School of Earth Sciences, is studying deep sea corals in the Southern Ocean. He came to talk to us about engaging with schools, both now and during the research cruise he’ll be taking later on this year (it’s a tough life doing a PhD!).
If you look at the bottom of the ocean, it might not seem very interesting; but it can actually tell you a great deal about the past, from ocean circulation to changes in climate. This is often done by studying sediment cores – tubes of sediment layers that can give you a snapshot of the ocean at the time. But in some places, such as the Drake Passage between the Antarctic Peninsula and South America (which Peter is studying), the strong currents sweep away the sediment so you have to look at deep sea corals instead. These corals exist all over the world at depths up to several thousand metres and their age can readily be determined using the radioactive isotopes of uranium and thorium. However, it’s a time-consuming process, with 50 samples taking up to seven weeks – not ideal if you have a collection of 20,000 corals, as the University does. So Peter has been developing a technique that enables him to do the same number of samples in just 3 days. Once he knows the ages of the corals he can start to investigate the temperature of this part of the ocean and how this relates to historical climate changes.
If you look at the bottom of the ocean, it might not seem very interesting; but it can actually tell you a great deal about the past, from ocean circulation to changes in climate. This is often done by studying sediment cores – tubes of sediment layers that can give you a snapshot of the ocean at the time. But in some places, such as the Drake Passage between the Antarctic Peninsula and South America (which Peter is studying), the strong currents sweep away the sediment so you have to look at deep sea corals instead. These corals exist all over the world at depths up to several thousand metres and their age can readily be determined using the radioactive isotopes of uranium and thorium. However, it’s a time-consuming process, with 50 samples taking up to seven weeks – not ideal if you have a collection of 20,000 corals, as the University does. So Peter has been developing a technique that enables him to do the same number of samples in just 3 days. Once he knows the ages of the corals he can start to investigate the temperature of this part of the ocean and how this relates to historical climate changes.
Wednesday, 17 July 2013
Research Encounter #10: Elsa Marques
As you’ll see below, Dr Elsa Marques from the School of Social and Community Medicine is an expert evaluator. She recently helped us out by coordinating our team of evaluators at the Festival of Nature – no mean feat considering the horrible weather that weekend!
Medical science is always advancing, but alongside the development of new interventions (whether they’re new drugs, technologies or procedures), there’s a need to think about how they can be used in our healthcare system. Clinicians test whether a particular intervention is an improvement on current practice by setting up a randomised control trial; statisticians can then work out from this trial what is the most effective treatment. Health economists, such as Elsa, go one step further and collect all the costs that are associated with the different interventions – not only the NHS related costs but also other costs such as social services, the patients’ time off work and time off their leisure activities. They then evaluate whether the effect that a new intervention might bring is worth the extra cost both for the NHS and society. One of Elsa’s current projects is looking at whether giving additional anaesthesia during total hip and knee replacements will improve long term outcomes after surgery. Hopefully patients will begin physiotherapy faster and resume their normal activities sooner so in the long run it may be a cost-effective treatment option.
Medical science is always advancing, but alongside the development of new interventions (whether they’re new drugs, technologies or procedures), there’s a need to think about how they can be used in our healthcare system. Clinicians test whether a particular intervention is an improvement on current practice by setting up a randomised control trial; statisticians can then work out from this trial what is the most effective treatment. Health economists, such as Elsa, go one step further and collect all the costs that are associated with the different interventions – not only the NHS related costs but also other costs such as social services, the patients’ time off work and time off their leisure activities. They then evaluate whether the effect that a new intervention might bring is worth the extra cost both for the NHS and society. One of Elsa’s current projects is looking at whether giving additional anaesthesia during total hip and knee replacements will improve long term outcomes after surgery. Hopefully patients will begin physiotherapy faster and resume their normal activities sooner so in the long run it may be a cost-effective treatment option.
Thursday, 6 June 2013
A touch of the green eyed monster
Most of the time I'm happy with my position in the university. I get an insight into the breadth of research and teaching, I get to talk to people from archaeology to zoology, from undergraduate to senior management. I get to explore all the nooks and crannies of the place (and if you've ever tried to wander from one end of the Faculty of Arts to the other you'll know that there are a lot of nooks).
But every now and then I feel a twinge of jealousy that I'm no longer an academic. It's not that I miss the long hours in the lab, nor the feeling of frustration when yet another experiment goes wrong or another hypothesis of mine proves to be incorrect. I don't even really miss believing that, as a researcher, you might be a world expert on this minuscule area of knowledge (although it was a comforting thought). No, I just have a bad case of academic office envy.
Despite the range of research areas, not to mention personalities, academic offices share many of the same features. Firstly, there are the bookcases; piled floor to ceiling with books, these invariably take up at least a wall, and often more. And rather than the glossy new bestsellers in a book store, these all look well loved and well thumbed. You could spend a whole afternoon here, slowly browsing the titles and breathing in the heady, nutmeg smell of old paper. Then there's the mismatched furniture - antique tables jostling for space with what passed for office furniture in the 1970s. Armchairs with an impressive range of colours and degrees of comfort. And finally, to truly stamp the inhabitant's character on the room, a range of items lying around or artfully arranged on the wall. It could be a set of guitars, antique glass bottles or tiny replicas of medieval farming equipment. It could even be an extensive collection of teas or a bowl that is always full of chocolate for the casual visitor*.
All of these imbue the offices with an ambience that reflects each academic's personality. I have no idea what my academic office would look like, apart from the knowledge that tidiness would not be a feature. I don't know how I would fill it with books related to my expertise, or even what my expertise would be nowadays. But I do know that every time I go into an academic office I am struck by the same thought: I want one of those.
* These are all genuine example from offices here.
But every now and then I feel a twinge of jealousy that I'm no longer an academic. It's not that I miss the long hours in the lab, nor the feeling of frustration when yet another experiment goes wrong or another hypothesis of mine proves to be incorrect. I don't even really miss believing that, as a researcher, you might be a world expert on this minuscule area of knowledge (although it was a comforting thought). No, I just have a bad case of academic office envy.
Despite the range of research areas, not to mention personalities, academic offices share many of the same features. Firstly, there are the bookcases; piled floor to ceiling with books, these invariably take up at least a wall, and often more. And rather than the glossy new bestsellers in a book store, these all look well loved and well thumbed. You could spend a whole afternoon here, slowly browsing the titles and breathing in the heady, nutmeg smell of old paper. Then there's the mismatched furniture - antique tables jostling for space with what passed for office furniture in the 1970s. Armchairs with an impressive range of colours and degrees of comfort. And finally, to truly stamp the inhabitant's character on the room, a range of items lying around or artfully arranged on the wall. It could be a set of guitars, antique glass bottles or tiny replicas of medieval farming equipment. It could even be an extensive collection of teas or a bowl that is always full of chocolate for the casual visitor*.
All of these imbue the offices with an ambience that reflects each academic's personality. I have no idea what my academic office would look like, apart from the knowledge that tidiness would not be a feature. I don't know how I would fill it with books related to my expertise, or even what my expertise would be nowadays. But I do know that every time I go into an academic office I am struck by the same thought: I want one of those.
* These are all genuine example from offices here.
Tuesday, 4 June 2013
Research Encounter #9: David Glowacki
I first came across Dr David Glowacki, from the School of Chemistry, in my EPSRC days where he was one of the last recipients of my Partnerships for Public Engagement Award scheme (before its untimely demise). Since then his awesome danceroom Spectroscopy project has been a phenomenal success, but he still finds time to occasionally do some research.
It’s often said that nature is a non-equilibrium system. By a non-equilibrium system we mean one that is moving and dynamic – if the sea was in equilibrium, it would be a placid pool; if the atmosphere was in equilibrium, there’d be no wind. And if we were in equilibrium we’d be dead – our equilibrium state is a puddle of chemicals on the floor. A fundamental characteristic of a non-equilibrium system is the transfer of energy, how it is transported and where it goes. David looks at how mechanisms of energy transfer at the level of molecules and atoms can shed light on how nature behaves. By studying these mechanisms it is possible to create predictive models for a large number of reactions in nature; this knowledge can then be used to design and build new materials that can help us address current challenges such as pollution, energy production and the environment.
It’s often said that nature is a non-equilibrium system. By a non-equilibrium system we mean one that is moving and dynamic – if the sea was in equilibrium, it would be a placid pool; if the atmosphere was in equilibrium, there’d be no wind. And if we were in equilibrium we’d be dead – our equilibrium state is a puddle of chemicals on the floor. A fundamental characteristic of a non-equilibrium system is the transfer of energy, how it is transported and where it goes. David looks at how mechanisms of energy transfer at the level of molecules and atoms can shed light on how nature behaves. By studying these mechanisms it is possible to create predictive models for a large number of reactions in nature; this knowledge can then be used to design and build new materials that can help us address current challenges such as pollution, energy production and the environment.
Monday, 20 May 2013
Research Encounter #8: Tilo Burghardt
Dr Tilo Burghardt is a Lecturer in the Department of Computer Science. He kindly took me through the story of how his PhD research (which included several months on an island in Africa looking at penguins – an unlikely task for a computer scientist) has led to his involvement in the emerging field of animal biometrics.
Imagine you’re on holiday; you take a photo of the local wildlife and, based on the image, your computer tells you not only what species the animal is but also the characteristics of this particular individual. This technology is just one of the many applications from Tilo’s work on computer vision – how machines make sense of things such as images and videos. Tilo’s research started by looking at how computers can identify species and even individual animals based on pattern recognition. But the challenge is how a technique that works on lab footage in a controlled environment can be adapted to animals in the wild. Here, machine learning – systems that learn from data to improve how they work – can be used to extract meaning from the gigabytes (and more) of data from video footage of animals. And from this meaning we can start to understand what animals are like physically and how they behave, both as individuals and as a species. This not only has great applications for tourism and entertainment; it also starts to unpick the big question of nature versus nurture and to what extent an animal's characteristics and behaviours are determined by their genetics and environment.
Imagine you’re on holiday; you take a photo of the local wildlife and, based on the image, your computer tells you not only what species the animal is but also the characteristics of this particular individual. This technology is just one of the many applications from Tilo’s work on computer vision – how machines make sense of things such as images and videos. Tilo’s research started by looking at how computers can identify species and even individual animals based on pattern recognition. But the challenge is how a technique that works on lab footage in a controlled environment can be adapted to animals in the wild. Here, machine learning – systems that learn from data to improve how they work – can be used to extract meaning from the gigabytes (and more) of data from video footage of animals. And from this meaning we can start to understand what animals are like physically and how they behave, both as individuals and as a species. This not only has great applications for tourism and entertainment; it also starts to unpick the big question of nature versus nurture and to what extent an animal's characteristics and behaviours are determined by their genetics and environment.
Monday, 29 April 2013
Taking the long way around
"Tenir la main qui connaît le chemin sur cette terre" - Le Petit Prince*
Some people have their lives mapped out. I don't mean that everything works out for them (that'd be the subject for a whole other post) but that they know where are and where they want to be. And in some cases they've even worked out how to get there.
I'm not like that. When Maggie (my boss) asked me in my annual review where I wanted to be in five years time, I was a bit stumped. Of course I can look at my role now and think about things I'd like to be doing in the future but it's not like I actually plan any of this. I was not one of those kids who knew that they were going to be a doctor, a lawyer, an actor. I picked my undergraduate degree on a whim, based on something my chemistry teacher said. I fell into my PhD because it was offered to me on a plate and I couldn't think of any reason to say no. And I fell out of research because of a particular set of circumstances (which, because this is a reflective piece and not a rant I won't be going into!).
So do I need a hand to show me the way? The crux of it is that I like where I am. I may not have predicted I'd be where I am today but I certainly don't regret it. And who knows, if I'd have planned a particular route I may have ended up here anyway. Which I'd why my blog is named as it is, not because I think that all options are open to me but more that I don't think there's only one linear path through life. Which is a relief, because indecisiveness is one of my major flaws. If I had to think through the repercussions of every decision I made I'd probably still be stuck at the crossroads** on the beginning of the journey.
* Or at least the musical. I don't have the original book to hand to check whether it's in there.
** Those of you who are aficionados of Don McLean will realise that's a deliberate pun since the song my blog is named after is in fact Crossroads.
Some people have their lives mapped out. I don't mean that everything works out for them (that'd be the subject for a whole other post) but that they know where are and where they want to be. And in some cases they've even worked out how to get there.
I'm not like that. When Maggie (my boss) asked me in my annual review where I wanted to be in five years time, I was a bit stumped. Of course I can look at my role now and think about things I'd like to be doing in the future but it's not like I actually plan any of this. I was not one of those kids who knew that they were going to be a doctor, a lawyer, an actor. I picked my undergraduate degree on a whim, based on something my chemistry teacher said. I fell into my PhD because it was offered to me on a plate and I couldn't think of any reason to say no. And I fell out of research because of a particular set of circumstances (which, because this is a reflective piece and not a rant I won't be going into!).
So do I need a hand to show me the way? The crux of it is that I like where I am. I may not have predicted I'd be where I am today but I certainly don't regret it. And who knows, if I'd have planned a particular route I may have ended up here anyway. Which I'd why my blog is named as it is, not because I think that all options are open to me but more that I don't think there's only one linear path through life. Which is a relief, because indecisiveness is one of my major flaws. If I had to think through the repercussions of every decision I made I'd probably still be stuck at the crossroads** on the beginning of the journey.
* Or at least the musical. I don't have the original book to hand to check whether it's in there.
** Those of you who are aficionados of Don McLean will realise that's a deliberate pun since the song my blog is named after is in fact Crossroads.
Monday, 22 April 2013
Research Encounter #7: Naomi Millner
As part of our Seeds of Change project, my colleague Martha and I went to pick the brain of Naomi Millner, a Lecturer in the School of Geographical Sciences, whose interests include migration and the political economy of seeds. But she also outlined her research around the idea of the commons:
What does the word commons mean to us, both now and in history? In the 1600s, the commons meant rural land and ways of farming together. But as the countryside became more enclosed, and industrialisation started to threaten the green spaces, the concept of commons took on a different meaning. Campaigns for preserving the commons focused on a romantic ideal of nature and how it could be a transformative force for social change. Today, the idea of a global commons is emerging as an alternative to capitalism – instead of organising the world according to private and economic interests, global movements are thinking about how we can govern common resources together. Linked to this is the idea of food sovereignty, which was set up as a counterpoint to food security. Food sovereignty suggests that hunger in the world isn’t mainly an issue of growing enough food and increasing productivity – it’s more a political question of control, access and rights to land. As such, the idea of the commons becomes a way to imagine how we could use and govern our environment and natural resources.
What does the word commons mean to us, both now and in history? In the 1600s, the commons meant rural land and ways of farming together. But as the countryside became more enclosed, and industrialisation started to threaten the green spaces, the concept of commons took on a different meaning. Campaigns for preserving the commons focused on a romantic ideal of nature and how it could be a transformative force for social change. Today, the idea of a global commons is emerging as an alternative to capitalism – instead of organising the world according to private and economic interests, global movements are thinking about how we can govern common resources together. Linked to this is the idea of food sovereignty, which was set up as a counterpoint to food security. Food sovereignty suggests that hunger in the world isn’t mainly an issue of growing enough food and increasing productivity – it’s more a political question of control, access and rights to land. As such, the idea of the commons becomes a way to imagine how we could use and govern our environment and natural resources.
Sunday, 21 April 2013
In praise of daydreaming
"If you've never stared off into the distance then your life is a shame" - Counting Crows (Mrs Potter's Lullaby)
I've always had a commute to work, whether it's a 15 minute walk or a two hour train journey. But rather than resent these periods of enforced idleness, I've come to appreciate and treasure them. I've knitted several items of clothing (not whilst walking obviously) and surfed countless webpages; I've even written the odd blog post. But the really valuable moments have been those when I've allowed my mind to drift off in any direction it chooses.
So what do I think about at those times? I'll admit a significant proportion of the time is taken up by practicalities, from shopping lists to what I need to do at work. But other times it's not so prosaic. Do I stare off into the distance in sadness at what hasn't been? In hoping for what might be? Or in constructing a whole different picture of life? (the answer to this is all three). In my head I can be whoever and wherever I want to be and traverse worlds far beyond my reality. As such, I do think it's a shame to be so caught up in the everyday that you don't have the chance to daydream. Which means that if you see me gazing out the window or lost in my own thoughts, don't feel you have to interrupt me. I may just be planning tonight's dinner. But equally I may be somewhere else entirely.
I've always had a commute to work, whether it's a 15 minute walk or a two hour train journey. But rather than resent these periods of enforced idleness, I've come to appreciate and treasure them. I've knitted several items of clothing (not whilst walking obviously) and surfed countless webpages; I've even written the odd blog post. But the really valuable moments have been those when I've allowed my mind to drift off in any direction it chooses.
So what do I think about at those times? I'll admit a significant proportion of the time is taken up by practicalities, from shopping lists to what I need to do at work. But other times it's not so prosaic. Do I stare off into the distance in sadness at what hasn't been? In hoping for what might be? Or in constructing a whole different picture of life? (the answer to this is all three). In my head I can be whoever and wherever I want to be and traverse worlds far beyond my reality. As such, I do think it's a shame to be so caught up in the everyday that you don't have the chance to daydream. Which means that if you see me gazing out the window or lost in my own thoughts, don't feel you have to interrupt me. I may just be planning tonight's dinner. But equally I may be somewhere else entirely.
Thursday, 18 April 2013
Research Encounter #6: Mike O'Mahony
A colleague and I dropped in to visit Dr Mike O’Mahony, a Reader in the Department of History of Art. Amidst discussions around impact and the forthcoming REF, he managed to describe his research in the highly topical area of sport and visual culture.
You would have been hard pressed to have spent 2012 without coming across a sea of sporting images, primarily (in this country at least) of the Olympic Games in London. From the official branding and materials to the millions of photographs taken on people’s cameras and smartphones – these images form part of our culture and can contain a wealth of information. Research in this area takes place at the intersection of two disciplines - art history and the history of sport. Art history has tended to overlook sport as a subject because it often forms part of popular culture, rather than so-called high culture. Conversely, sports studies and the history of sport focus more on text rather than visual materials. But by looking at sporting images through the lens of an art historian, Mike hopes to uncover new facets of the representation of sport in culture and bring both disciplines together into a fruitful collaboration.
You would have been hard pressed to have spent 2012 without coming across a sea of sporting images, primarily (in this country at least) of the Olympic Games in London. From the official branding and materials to the millions of photographs taken on people’s cameras and smartphones – these images form part of our culture and can contain a wealth of information. Research in this area takes place at the intersection of two disciplines - art history and the history of sport. Art history has tended to overlook sport as a subject because it often forms part of popular culture, rather than so-called high culture. Conversely, sports studies and the history of sport focus more on text rather than visual materials. But by looking at sporting images through the lens of an art historian, Mike hopes to uncover new facets of the representation of sport in culture and bring both disciplines together into a fruitful collaboration.
Thursday, 11 April 2013
Research Encounter #5: Leroy White
Leroy White is a Professor in the School of Economics, Finance and Management. He’s worked with our team for several years, in particular with evaluating our major public events – he, and his students, have taught me loads about the practical aspects of evaluation. But that’s only a small part of his interest, as he described to me.
Management Science uses mathematical and scientific techniques to understand why things work, and for whom. One of Leroy’s areas of research is the use of networks and graph theory to understand why people’s connections with each other matter. In an organisation, the really interesting aspect is not so much the formal structures but rather the informal connections that people create or destroy. By mapping these informalities and relating them to organisational outcomes, it is possible to get an insight into how organisations work. Another area is around co-production – a project of his looks at a children’s hospital which has different professionals working in the same space. Consultants, social workers, nurses and teachers all try to communicate with each other how best to deliver a service to a child with kidney problems. But two things hinder knowledge exchange: the hierarchy, and the jurisdiction of knowledge – legal things which prevent certain people talking to each other. Understanding this helps the organisation break through the boundaries that prevent the exchange of knowledge.
Management Science uses mathematical and scientific techniques to understand why things work, and for whom. One of Leroy’s areas of research is the use of networks and graph theory to understand why people’s connections with each other matter. In an organisation, the really interesting aspect is not so much the formal structures but rather the informal connections that people create or destroy. By mapping these informalities and relating them to organisational outcomes, it is possible to get an insight into how organisations work. Another area is around co-production – a project of his looks at a children’s hospital which has different professionals working in the same space. Consultants, social workers, nurses and teachers all try to communicate with each other how best to deliver a service to a child with kidney problems. But two things hinder knowledge exchange: the hierarchy, and the jurisdiction of knowledge – legal things which prevent certain people talking to each other. Understanding this helps the organisation break through the boundaries that prevent the exchange of knowledge.
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
Connected Communities showcase
A post from the Know your Bristol blog on the recent Connected Communities showcase, including an embarrassing video of Pete and I doing our double act.
In March, the Know your Bristol team was invited to take part in the AHRC’s Connected Communities Showcase. This event featured many of the projects funded by the Connected Communities programme in the last few years and provided an opportunity for us to share our outcomes and impacts with other researchers and community organisations working in similar areas.
There were several talks and panel discussions over the course of the day. But the most interesting part was wandering round the stands and finding out what other projects had got up to. From creative research into community gardening to exploring the interwoven (pun intended) social histories and cultural practices of Scottish basket-weaving, the breadth of topics and partnerships was amazing. It was also interesting to see the different approaches to community mapping projects, with people utilising digital technologies such as QR codes and GPS tracking of walking routes through smartphones.
But the day was also a chance for us to show some of the wonderful material and stories that we have managed to obtain through Know your Bristol and how they are being used. As such we had a laptop on hand to show people the Know Your Place website and how the oral histories have helped enrich this burgeoning resource. We even got interviewed as part of the AHRC’s documenting of the day.
David Willetts, in his keynote speech, talked about how much he values research from the arts and humanities and his role as an advocate for them in the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills. But you only needed to look around you in the exhibition hall to see the importance of such projects and the effect that they have on both researchers and the communities involved.
In March, the Know your Bristol team was invited to take part in the AHRC’s Connected Communities Showcase. This event featured many of the projects funded by the Connected Communities programme in the last few years and provided an opportunity for us to share our outcomes and impacts with other researchers and community organisations working in similar areas.
But the day was also a chance for us to show some of the wonderful material and stories that we have managed to obtain through Know your Bristol and how they are being used. As such we had a laptop on hand to show people the Know Your Place website and how the oral histories have helped enrich this burgeoning resource. We even got interviewed as part of the AHRC’s documenting of the day.
Friday, 22 March 2013
Piercing the darkness
A post from the CPE blog about my reflections on a recent REF workshop.
“No light, but rather darkness visible” was the comment by my neighbour at the workshop we were attending on writing REF impact templates. Quoting Milton’s Paradise Lost, he was referring to the guidance for impact templates which seemed to impress (and bemuse) a number of us with its opacity.
The workshop, run by the NCCPE, was designed to help us those us involved in the REF process think about ways to tackle the impact templates for each Unit of Assessment. In relation to other sections of the REF guidance, many people feel that this area lacks detail so it was unsurprising that a large chunk of the workshop focused on challenging our misconceptions. One area of confusion was the relationship of the template to the impact case studies, bearing in mind that the template should be a framework on which the case studies sit but that the case studies don’t have to reflect the template.
Another difficulty many people face is that Units of Assessment can be made up of several different research groups with different approaches; as such, you can end up with a patchwork quilt of ideas rather than a coherent theme. Thankfully, there is an acknowledgement of this challenge in the guidance so there is no expectation for one approach in each template. Conversely other people felt that their issue was that of generic plans across several Units rather than a tailored approach – a single-colour duvet rather than a patchwork quilt, as it were. Advice here was that the strategy section of each template should be reflective – thinking about issues as well as strengths and providing an honest (but positive) assessment about where improvements could be made.
There were some handy tips from the day, especially that engagement which has had an impact on research strategy actually belongs in the environment template rather than the impact template. And we were encouraged to suggest questions that the NCCPE could take to the REF panels and ask for clarification. So whilst we may not have moved into the bright light just yet, at least now there might be a glimpse of something through the darkness.
“No light, but rather darkness visible” was the comment by my neighbour at the workshop we were attending on writing REF impact templates. Quoting Milton’s Paradise Lost, he was referring to the guidance for impact templates which seemed to impress (and bemuse) a number of us with its opacity.
The workshop, run by the NCCPE, was designed to help us those us involved in the REF process think about ways to tackle the impact templates for each Unit of Assessment. In relation to other sections of the REF guidance, many people feel that this area lacks detail so it was unsurprising that a large chunk of the workshop focused on challenging our misconceptions. One area of confusion was the relationship of the template to the impact case studies, bearing in mind that the template should be a framework on which the case studies sit but that the case studies don’t have to reflect the template.
Another difficulty many people face is that Units of Assessment can be made up of several different research groups with different approaches; as such, you can end up with a patchwork quilt of ideas rather than a coherent theme. Thankfully, there is an acknowledgement of this challenge in the guidance so there is no expectation for one approach in each template. Conversely other people felt that their issue was that of generic plans across several Units rather than a tailored approach – a single-colour duvet rather than a patchwork quilt, as it were. Advice here was that the strategy section of each template should be reflective – thinking about issues as well as strengths and providing an honest (but positive) assessment about where improvements could be made.
There were some handy tips from the day, especially that engagement which has had an impact on research strategy actually belongs in the environment template rather than the impact template. And we were encouraged to suggest questions that the NCCPE could take to the REF panels and ask for clarification. So whilst we may not have moved into the bright light just yet, at least now there might be a glimpse of something through the darkness.
Monday, 18 March 2013
Stories from the War - Avonmouth and Shirehampton
A post from the Know your Bristol blog, looking at our event in Shirehampton. Naturally there's going to be a focus on war in the next year so it was good to get a taster of just some of the stories from here in Bristol.
It’s been nearly a hundred years since the start of the First World War but the history and heritage of it is still with us – something that was clearly shown at our latest Know your Bristol event. Held at Shirehampton Public Hall, we had a steady stream of visitors coming to look at the resources gathered so far and contribute their stories to this growing archive – with many being so eager they turned up before we’d even got everything set up.
Shirehampton and Avonmouth both contributed to the war effort, with the latter being a strategically important military depot – a place from which many troops and equipment were dispatched to the Western Front. In addition a remount depot was established at Shirehampton that stabled and supplied over 300,000 horses and mules to the front between 1914 and 1918. Nowadays there are no visible remains of this site, but one of the first oral histories was from a lady remembering the large post that was one of the last remaining features from the depot before being pulled down sometime in the 70s.
We also heard personal stories of grandfathers and other family members who’d fought in the war, and the photos and mementoes that they’d sent back from the front. A beautiful example of this was the collection of postcards decorated with detailed French embroidery, with the colours and patterns looking like they’d just been stitched yesterday. Less attractive, but just as fascinating, was a genuine German bayonet and sheath with a tragic history. The bayonet had been used to kill a British soldier but its owner had been killed at the same time so the bodies of these soldiers from opposing sides were found right next to each other. A sad tale and a reminder of the impact that the War had on people, not just locally but from all over the world.
It’s been nearly a hundred years since the start of the First World War but the history and heritage of it is still with us – something that was clearly shown at our latest Know your Bristol event. Held at Shirehampton Public Hall, we had a steady stream of visitors coming to look at the resources gathered so far and contribute their stories to this growing archive – with many being so eager they turned up before we’d even got everything set up.
Friday, 15 March 2013
Research Encounter #4: Becky Jones
Some encounters aren’t
all about work. Becky Jones from the
School of Biochemistry recently spent six months working with us at the Centre
for Public Engagement. Having just submitted
her PhD, we met up to celebrate so the writing here may have been influenced by
a glass of bubbly!
The cytoskeleton is a protein structure that helps cells to
change shape. This is particularly
important for immune cells when faced with infections so that they can take up
bacteria and dead cells, and interact with each other to fight the
infection. A protein called WASp
(nothing to do with wasps) is only found in immune cells and plays an important
role in regulating the cytoskeleton.
Mutations to the gene that produces the protein can lead to a rare but
heritable disorder where patients are susceptible to bacterial infection. Becky is studying zebrafish larvae, which are
translucent – this means you can image them and look at cell behaviour and movement
in living organisms. By looking at the
WASp protein and how mutations affect the fish she can start to uncover how
such mutations might work in the human body.
Tuesday, 12 March 2013
Research Encounter #3: Christina Rowley
Dr Christina Rowley is a Research Associate in the School of Sociology, Politics and International Studies, as well as working for the ESRC. I caught up with her at a Connected Communities showcase (with her ESRC hat on) but we managed to find a few minutes to talk about her on-going research.
Popular culture and politics may seem worlds apart, but is this really the case? In the Vietnam War, soldiers would listen to the music sent by their friends and family; today, iPods are common items of a soldier’s equipment, with music being played as they prepare for battle or in their vehicles. But why are rap and heavy metal so prevalent on playlists? And what role does popular culture have in influencing the attitudes and behaviour of both military personnel and the public towards war? Christina’s work looks at culture and its relationship to military interventions, and how TV can be a critical space to explore politics.
Popular culture and politics may seem worlds apart, but is this really the case? In the Vietnam War, soldiers would listen to the music sent by their friends and family; today, iPods are common items of a soldier’s equipment, with music being played as they prepare for battle or in their vehicles. But why are rap and heavy metal so prevalent on playlists? And what role does popular culture have in influencing the attitudes and behaviour of both military personnel and the public towards war? Christina’s work looks at culture and its relationship to military interventions, and how TV can be a critical space to explore politics.
Thursday, 7 March 2013
Research Encounter #2: Frances Cartwright
This next Encounter is with Frances Cartwright who is a 2nd year PhD student in the School of Biological Sciences. Frances is no stranger to public engagement, having been a volunteer at the Festival of Nature and for our Seeds of Change project – however she doesn’t normally get the chance to talk about her own research so here it is.
Climate change mitigation is perhaps the biggest research challenge we face today. And, as with all challenges, there are a variety of approaches that can be taken; one of these considers increasing the reflectivity of surfaces so that more of the Sun’s energy is reflected back into space. But it’s not just buildings and roads that can reflect energy – computer modelling suggests that increasing the reflectivity of crops by only 4% can lead to a temperature decrease of 1°C in the crop fields during the summer. So what affects the reflective properties of crops such as barley and wheat which are common in agriculture? Frances is currently investigating natural variations in the plants – from how hairy or waxy the leaves are, to any differences in the cell structure. Once these factors have been established, it’s the first step to ensuring crops to maximise their reflectivity and play their part in the fight against climate change.
Climate change mitigation is perhaps the biggest research challenge we face today. And, as with all challenges, there are a variety of approaches that can be taken; one of these considers increasing the reflectivity of surfaces so that more of the Sun’s energy is reflected back into space. But it’s not just buildings and roads that can reflect energy – computer modelling suggests that increasing the reflectivity of crops by only 4% can lead to a temperature decrease of 1°C in the crop fields during the summer. So what affects the reflective properties of crops such as barley and wheat which are common in agriculture? Frances is currently investigating natural variations in the plants – from how hairy or waxy the leaves are, to any differences in the cell structure. Once these factors have been established, it’s the first step to ensuring crops to maximise their reflectivity and play their part in the fight against climate change.
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Research Encounter #1: Simon Potter
So here’s the first of my Research Encounters – with Dr Simon Potter, Reader in Modern History. Simon was game enough to be the guinea pig for this endeavour, telling me about his journey from straight-forward archival research to thought-provoking questions about the role of the media.
It's hard to imagine a time when news wasn’t instantly at our fingertips – from the internet to Twitter on our smart phones it’s possible to get news from around the world as soon as it breaks. But this was not always the case – in the 19th and early 20th century news could sometimes take weeks to flow from one part of the British Empire back to the UK. Then, as now, news was not always unbiased – with national institutions such as the BBC using broadcasting as a propaganda tool. So what pictures did the media create for those living at the time who may have been part of the Empire but never saw any of it? How did it connect places separated by thousands of miles? And what role did these transnational organisations and media corporations have on how people saw the world around them? These are questions that are rooted in history but which certainly are of relevance today.
It's hard to imagine a time when news wasn’t instantly at our fingertips – from the internet to Twitter on our smart phones it’s possible to get news from around the world as soon as it breaks. But this was not always the case – in the 19th and early 20th century news could sometimes take weeks to flow from one part of the British Empire back to the UK. Then, as now, news was not always unbiased – with national institutions such as the BBC using broadcasting as a propaganda tool. So what pictures did the media create for those living at the time who may have been part of the Empire but never saw any of it? How did it connect places separated by thousands of miles? And what role did these transnational organisations and media corporations have on how people saw the world around them? These are questions that are rooted in history but which certainly are of relevance today.
Knowing our Bristol
Another post from the Know your Bristol blog - looking back on the events last year, the value of non-academic knowledge and how it will be used to shape future decisions in Bristol.
How well do you know your neighbourhood? This has been the question at the heart of Know your Bristol as it aims to celebrate memories of Bristol as seen through the eyes of the community. In the past year, through seven road shows at locations throughout Bristol, we have managed to collect around 40 oral histories and capture over 750 digitised images – with photographs ranging from family outings to special occasions to snapshots of everyday life. The stories have been poignant, with tales of loved ones no longer with us. They have been entertaining – a highlight of mine being the tale of a zookeeper being knocked over by a dead giraffe (it’s surprisingly hard to conduct an interview when you’re trying not to burst into laughter). But above all, they have been an insight into a part of Bristol that hasn’t been documented before, and in some cases a Bristol that no longer exists.
It’s clear from this project that Bristolians, past and present, have a wealth of information about this city and we have attempted to capture just some of this in a booklet summarising the series of events so far. Know your Bristol has shown the value of non-academic knowledge in thinking about our lives and our heritage. And for some of us who are new(ish) to Bristol it’s been a fabulous way to get out of the ivory tower and explore parts of the city we may have never come across otherwise.
But the project also has a longer legacy than that. The images and oral histories are steadily being uploaded onto the Know Your Place site, run by our partners at Bristol City Council. This site not only provides a rich and detailed history of Bristol through the ages but the material is also being used to inform decisions about planning at a neighbourhood scale and in schools as part of a locally relevant learning resource. So people’s memories aren’t trapped in their heads, or even hidden away in a dusty archive – they are readily available for people to use as they wish. And this is not the end for Know your Bristol. Thanks to additional support from the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the Heritage Lottery Fund we will be working with more community groups to explore areas we didn’t manage to reach last year. So watch this space for more stories from our events and let’s see what more we can find out about this diverse and fascinating city we live in.
How well do you know your neighbourhood? This has been the question at the heart of Know your Bristol as it aims to celebrate memories of Bristol as seen through the eyes of the community. In the past year, through seven road shows at locations throughout Bristol, we have managed to collect around 40 oral histories and capture over 750 digitised images – with photographs ranging from family outings to special occasions to snapshots of everyday life. The stories have been poignant, with tales of loved ones no longer with us. They have been entertaining – a highlight of mine being the tale of a zookeeper being knocked over by a dead giraffe (it’s surprisingly hard to conduct an interview when you’re trying not to burst into laughter). But above all, they have been an insight into a part of Bristol that hasn’t been documented before, and in some cases a Bristol that no longer exists.
But the project also has a longer legacy than that. The images and oral histories are steadily being uploaded onto the Know Your Place site, run by our partners at Bristol City Council. This site not only provides a rich and detailed history of Bristol through the ages but the material is also being used to inform decisions about planning at a neighbourhood scale and in schools as part of a locally relevant learning resource. So people’s memories aren’t trapped in their heads, or even hidden away in a dusty archive – they are readily available for people to use as they wish. And this is not the end for Know your Bristol. Thanks to additional support from the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the Heritage Lottery Fund we will be working with more community groups to explore areas we didn’t manage to reach last year. So watch this space for more stories from our events and let’s see what more we can find out about this diverse and fascinating city we live in.
Monday, 25 February 2013
Encountering research (and researchers)
I’m in the enviable position of spending a large part of my time interacting and working with researchers from across the entire University. As such, I get to hear about just some of the fascinating research that takes place here, from areas where I have a passing knowledge to questions and issues I had never even thought about. It seems a shame to keep all these remarkable stories in my head. In addition, I have been known to say that I’ve never come across a researcher who hasn’t been able to explain their work to a lay audience (OK, admittedly it’s easier for some, but given time and a few handy tools I still believe this is the case). But it’s a bit glib for me to state this and not rise to the challenge of whether I can explain other people’s research.
So I’ve decided to combine the two and keep track of my encounters with researchers – when I meet a University of Bristol researcher as part of my work I’ll try and get them to explain their work to me. I’ll then write a brief snapshot of what I think their research is about* and post it here, with the hope that others get to see just what amazing and unexpected things people work on at the University of Bristol.
* with the caveat that it’s my interpretation of their work so any errors or inaccuracies are mine.
So I’ve decided to combine the two and keep track of my encounters with researchers – when I meet a University of Bristol researcher as part of my work I’ll try and get them to explain their work to me. I’ll then write a brief snapshot of what I think their research is about* and post it here, with the hope that others get to see just what amazing and unexpected things people work on at the University of Bristol.
* with the caveat that it’s my interpretation of their work so any errors or inaccuracies are mine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)