Recently in the Sociology Category

Old joke... when's the best time to air a radio drama? 1937. 

Radio is still around, but the salary of TV personality Katie Couric " is more than the entire annual budgets of NPR's Morning Edition and All Things Considered combined." (so says Michael Massing).  If you knew nothing about the internet beyond what you learned about it from the TV news, you'd probably think it was full of child predators, weirdos, and clips of babies dancing to pop music.

But not too long ago, TV was the strange new medium that changed the way people spent their leisure time, and the way advertisers spent their marketing budgets, despite the wishes of the established old media titans.

Network TV lost vast amounts of money in its early years. It was only because the existing ­radio networks were willing to subsidize TV that it survived--leaving CBS and NBC at the top of the heap in the '50s and '60s, just as they had been in the '30s and '40s. The old media of today have a similar chance to prosper tomorrow if they can survive the heavy financial losses that they're incurring while they develop workable new-media business models.

Established radio performers such as Benny and Hope, who embraced TV on its own visually oriented terms, flourished well into the '60s. Everyone else--­including Fred Allen--vanished into the dumpster of entertainment history. The same fate awaits contemporary old-media figures unwilling to grapple with the challenge of the new media, no matter how popular they may be today.

Americans of all ages ­embraced TV unhesitatingly. They felt no loyalty to network radio, the medium that had entertained and informed them for a quarter-century. When something came along that they deemed superior, they switched off their radios without a second thought. That's the biggest lesson taught by the new-media crisis of 1949. Nostalgia, like guilt, is a rope that wears thin. --Terry Teachout, Wall Street Journal

I am not too happy about the way wild conclusions drawn from this self-published research periodically pop up in the media. Kudos to Liberman, from Language Log, who tries (yet again) to explain.

The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness

The best way to describe this, I think, would be to say something like:

In the early 70s, women self-reported their happiness at levels somewhat higher than men did. Specifically, 5.1% more of the women reported themselves "Very happy", while 1.5% fewer reported themselves "Not too happy".

30-odd years later, in the mid 00s, women's self-reported happiness was closer to men's, though it was still slightly higher. 1.4% more of the women reported themselves "Very happy", while 0.1% fewer reported themselves "Not too happy".

To Arianna Huffington, this means that "women are becoming more and more unhappy", while "men ... have gotten progressively happier over the years". To Maureen Dowd, this means that "Before the '70s, there was a gender gap in America in which women felt greater well-being. Now there's a gender gap in which men feel better about their lives."  Ross Douthat described these numbers with the generalization "In postfeminist America, men are happier than women."

All of these statements are either false or seriously misleading.  Maybe, if you look at the data through a sophisticated statistical model, you can support a conclusion about the relative signs of the long-term-trends for males and females.  But any way you slice and dice it, there's not much there there.

I've cited the earlier stages in this discussion as motivation for a moratorium on using generic plurals to describe small statistical differences.  The contributions of Arianna Huffington and Maureen Dowd are, if anything, even better arguments for this (hopeless) cause. --Mark Liberman, Language Log

A reprint of a good article that has since disappeared behind the Technology Review subscription firewall. Probably too dated to assign to my news writing students this year, so I guess I'll just refer to it in lecture.

The informational edge was perilous, it was unpredictable, and it required the news audience to be willing to learn something it did not already know. Stories from the edge were not typically reassuring about the future. In this sense they were like actual news, unpredictable flashes from the unknown. On the other hand, the coveted emotional center was reliable, it was predictable, and its story lines could be duplicated over and over. It reassured the audience by telling it what it already knew rather than challenging it to learn. This explains why TV news voices all use similar cadences, why all anchors seem to sound alike, why reporters in the field all use the identical tone of urgency no matter whether the story is about the devastating aftermath of an earthquake or someone's lost kitty.

It also explains why TV news seems so archaic next to the advertising and entertainment content on the same networks. Among the greatest frustrations of working in TV news over the past decade was to see that while advertisers and entertainment producers were permitted to do wildly risky things in pursuit of audiences, news producers rarely ventured out of a safety zone of crime, celebrity, and character-driven tragedy yarns. --John Hockenberry

Amid the economic downturn, there are fewer places in New York to plug in computers. As idle workers fill coffee-shop tables -- nursing a single cup, if that, and surfing the Web for hours -- and as shop owners struggle to stay in business, a decade-old love affair between coffee shops and laptop-wielding customers is fading. In some places, customers just get cold looks, but in a growing number of small coffee shops, firm restrictions on laptop use have been imposed and electric outlets have been locked. The laptop backlash may predate the recession, but the recession clearly has accelerated it. -- Erica Alini, Wall Street Journal

I'm always on the lookout  for interesting stories that one can tell with statistics -- and cautionary tales about misusing statistics in order to create news where there isn't any.

Via MetaFilter -- this OK Cupid article breaks down responses to user-generated dating profile questions. Green states were more likely to answer "yes" than the national average (yellow), and red states were more likely to answer "no".  Note that this doesn't even come close to representing a statistical average of the population -- just the answers collected by the OK Cupid dating service.

Would you date someone just for the sex?

data set: 448,000 people answered

The answers to the question about daily showering are also worth a look.

Sore throat. Sinus pressure. Upset stomach. Exhaustion.

I'm sitting at home recovering from the flu, which I started to come down with during the Computers & Writing Conference this weekend. 

I had planned to attend Digital Humanities 2009 in Maryland, where I'm part of a group that's presenting tomorrow.  The group will survive without me as I try to recover.  If I feel well enough to drive tomorrow, I might try to catch the middle of the conference.

The week before, I took a train from Greensburg (near Pittsburgh) to Philadelphia, then a commuter train to a town in New Jersey for my nephew's baptism.  I was proud to learn I still have the touch -- the baby went to sleep in my arms.

During the same Mass, there was another family there for their own baptism.  Someone from that family was strutting all over the place with his video camera, completely oblivious to the fact that a religious service was going on (he could have been a bit more respectful), and that another family was also trying to take pictures of the same event.   I didn't feel like disrupting the service further by joining a media scrum, so I missed some shots, but I did discretely move so that I could get some (unobstructed) video clips during the actual sprinkling of water.

I've been thinking a lot about babies.

My own kids (Peter is 11 and Carolyn is 7) are talkative and rambunctious.  Our parenting philosophy has never equated "good child" with "quiet child."  So I'm probably immune to a certain level of squawking that might upset the average person.

On the ride up, we sat in the row behind a baby who looked about 12-14 months.

This is not a story about how annoying it is to travel near a cranky baby.  I didn't mind at all that the baby in the row in front of me drooled happily in my face and threw toys into my lap.  And, in fact, when an older couple (who could have chosen a seat elsewhere on the train) started complaining very loudly about the baby, I turned around and said "Do you know what really bothers me on trains?  Traveling near adults who complain too loudly." (I resisted the urge to say "old people who complain too loudly."  But they moved seats shortly after that.)

Anyone who's been around a baby knows that the noises a happy baby makes are far preferable to the noises an unhappy baby makes, so I was very happy when my own kids started playing with the baby.  My kids delighted in sending the toys back over the divider and singing songs for the baby.  (They did their fair share of whining over the course of 6 or 8 hours, too, but the baby kept them well occupied.)

What was really, really sad is that for hours at a time, this baby's mother sat with her laptop open, chatting in some kind of RPG, checking Facebook, and later putting in a movie for herself.. 

Near the beginning of the ride, we exchanged perfunctory greetings with all our neighbors, which established the creation of a temporary community.  At one point, a young man across the aisle helped my kids count to 20 in Spanish.  Later, when this same fellow started swearing casually into his cell phone, I tapped him on the shoulder and avuncularly reminded him of the presence of children on the train.  (His face registered dismay, and as he got off the train later, he put his hand on my shoulder and apologized sincerely.)

Not once during this train ride did the mother engage with my kids, despite the fact that my kids were amusing her kid for hours. She didn't take the baby away from them (to signal she wanted them to back off), or teach my kids games that the baby likes, or ask me about my kids, or join in the fun.  She seemed perfectly content to leave the baby-minding task to my kids, so that she could concentrate on her computer.

While I didn't like the feeling that I had become the moral enforcer of our corner of the train, I know that my own kids needed some boundaries.. Let the baby touch you, I told them, but don't grab the baby.  Don't startle the baby with loud noises.  Don't let the baby give you his bottle or snacks -- tell him to put them in his own mouth, and praise him for it. 

At one point, I had to take a hard toy away from the baby and give him a soft toy because he was swinging it around near my face.

At another point, the baby had clambered up onto the arm of his seat, pounding against the window, his center of gravity up pretty close to the seat back.  We went over a bump, the baby wobbled, and I lurched forward to catch him. The mother thanked me, and said something like "I was just getting something from my bag," as if to explain her inattentiveness.  But in truth, she had been just as preoccupied by her computer for hours.
 
Every so often the baby would let out a shriek.  Another passenger must have scowled at the mother, because I heard her say, rather helplessly, "I don't know why he's doing that."

I knew why her baby was doing that.  It was because my own kids were making faces at him, making his toys dance for him, and playing peek-a-boo with him. For hours. 

What could she have been writing on her Facebook page, that was more important than turning her head to see why her baby was shrieking for joy?

It's hot here in Sacramento.  I got lost wandering the UC-Davis campus looking for the Computers & Writing registration table. I discovered lots of bike paths -- several of them more than once.  I stumbled upon a building with people whom I recognize from various conferences.  There was a nice snack table.  I had helped myself and settled down with a plate before I realized I had walked into the tail end of a workshop session. What was I going to do, put the food back and leave?  That would have been rude.

I found these big metal things near the art building.  I don't know what they are, but I like them.

While hiding from the stack of final papers, I took a break in the cafeteria. Some of my colleagues were talking about the new Star Trek movie, and the conversation shifted to what's on TV now.

My daily household duties include putting the kids to bed. My wife doesn't really do mornings, and homeschooling doesn't start until she gets up, so the kids tend to stay up late.  So I spend every prime time reading bedtime stories and supervising the brushing of teeth and the donning of pajamas.

I should point out that today's TV has evolved in order to compete with video games and the internet... Lost and Battlestar Galactica and ER all engage brain cells in a way that assumes the viewer is intelligent, and does not need laugh tracks or "waah-waah-waah-waaaah" trombone noises in order to respond emotionally to a complex story with many dramatic twists and turns. So I'm not ranting about the poor quality of TV.

I'm sure that, if we had cable, I would find something worth watching. But that's precisely the reason I don't want cable. Ever. I haven't really followed a TV show since Babylon 5.  I've never seen an episode of Lost or the new Battlestar Galactica, though I have read online summaries of the plot, and I can understand the draw of those shows. 

When I'm free for the evening, rather than make the next two hours disappear into the boob tube black hole, I'd much rather make a Blender3D animation and upload it to YouTube, or convert a literary work I've never read before into an audio file so that I can listen to it during tomorrow's commute, or edit a Wikipedia page, or update my blog, or just noodle around in my server logs and figure out why I suddenly got that burst of traffic from Ireland.

I'd rather DO something.

I recently came across a talk by Clay Shirkey, who uses the term "cognitiive surplus" to describe the creative potential that we're not using when we sit and watch consumable TV.

I was being interviewed by a TV producer to see whether I should be on their show, and she asked me, "What are you seeing out there that's interesting?"

I started telling her about the Wikipedia article on Pluto. You may remember that Pluto got kicked out of the planet club a couple of years ago, so all of a sudden there was all of this activity on Wikipedia. The talk pages light up, people are editing the article like mad, and the whole community is in an ruckus--"How should we characterize this change in Pluto's status?" And a little bit at a time they move the article--fighting offstage all the while--from, "Pluto is the ninth planet," to "Pluto is an odd-shaped rock with an odd-shaped orbit at the edge of the solar system."

So I tell her all this stuff, and I think, "Okay, we're going to have a conversation about authority or social construction or whatever." That wasn't her question. She heard this story and she shook her head and said, "Where do people find the time?" That was her question. And I just kind of snapped. And I said, "No one who works in TV gets to ask that question. You know where the time comes from. It comes from the cognitive surplus you've been masking for 50 years." -- Clay Shirky

Researchers quizzed 571 people aged 17 to 25 about their lives and found those who grew up with sisters were more likely to be happy and balanced.--BBC News

Well, at least "Sisters appear to encourage more open communication and cohesion in families." The words "make people happy" only appear in the headline.

From another point of view, the researchers learned that brothers make people sad. Or rather, "Boys tend to internalise problems and in families where there are lots of sons, I can see that can cause problems," which doesn't fit nicely in a news headline.