The defeat of distance has become a major theme of information
technology. Information technology has been characterised as moving
from computation to communication (for example, Winograd 1997, 150), and this change is explicitly
recognised in the shift in terminology over the past few years from
'information technology' (IT) to 'information and communication
technology' (ICT or C&IT). However, technological means of
communication over distances are hardly new — the telegraph
pre-dated the Internet by some 150 years, for example (Standage 1998). What is different about
information and communication technology is the ease, the speed, the
richness and depth, and the scale — from narrowcasting to
individuals through to broadcasting to communities — of
interpersonal exchanges.
The idea that computer-based communications compress time and space
has become something of a technological truism. Communication can be
effectively face-to-face, but at a distance and with an element of
time-shifting possible (unlike the basic telephone, for instance), or
it can be much more impersonal and passive — simply making an
online resource generally available, for example. But what effect
might such aspects have on archaeology? A key aspect here is the
importance of communication for the maintenance and support of
(archaeological) communities and the social impact of enabling
technologies. For example, there is a range of paradoxical or
contradictory effects arising from information and communication
technologies: at one and the same time, globalisation and
localisation, centralisation and decentralisation,
standardisation and diversification:
'Whether they are simultaneous, reciprocal bipolar opposites,
paradoxical complementarities, or different forces acting at different
logical levels needs further investigation.'
(Stevenson 1998, 190).
These set up tensions within and between communities which we can
already start to see within archaeology in relation to access to
information, for example. Stevenson proposes four eventual social
scenarios based on developments in communication technologies (1998, 194-7):
Gold lamé and sackcloth (a scenario in which there is an
ever-widening gap between the information haves and have-nots
— see also Huggett 1995).
Drab uniform (a homogenised, centralised scenario in which those
with influence strengthen their control).
Rich tapestry (the ideal, even utopian, scenario, emphasising
diversity and collaboration).
Bazaar (a mixture of the above three scenarios, and hence Stevenson
argues it is the most probable).
Without labouring the point, it is clear that elements of each can
already be seen in the archaeological world today. While Stevenson
questions whether we yet live in a sufficiently communicative society
for a publicly discussed agenda to be developed, such a discussion
seems likely to be much more feasible for a smaller, more mindful
community such as archaeology.
Another of these paradoxical or contradictory effects of ICT and
distance is the way in which it has the potential to bring people and
communities closer, but at the same time it can increase distance and
enhance separation and isolation. At one level, such a contradiction
can be demonstrated through the operation of the archaeological
discussion list, Britarch, for
example, which serves a valuable purpose in bringing a wide range of
people interested in British archaeology together (currently over
1600). However, the ease of communication which this brings has also
led to numerous misunderstandings, cultural faux-pas, lack of irony
and failure of humour, many of which would arguably not have occurred
had these been face-to-face encounters (but then, the encounters
themselves would not otherwise have occurred).
For example, Introna (2002) argues
that through electronic mediation, reality becomes a form of
Baudrillardian hyperreality. Viewing the world through a computer
screen brings distant objects closer, but also adds a sense of remove,
in much the same way as watching events unfold on television news
— '… hyperreal events and representations … come
before us, but do not involve us' (Introna 2002, 80).
What effects might this 'archaeology on the screen' (after Turkle 1997a) have on archaeology
itself? In such an archaeological hyperreality, data may be wrenched
from context, argument separated from evidence, interpretations
transformed into 'facts', explicit knowledge separated
from tacit. Roberts (2000) discusses
the role of ICT in knowledge transfer, and shows how, while they can
be very effective in facilitating knowledge transfer through the
exchange of data, the problems of communicating the
'know-how' associated with such data are acute. Making
monument-related data that were never originally intended for public
use accessible online is just one example of this in action. Distance
can be, at least, a double-edged sword.
Distance may also operate in terms of our relationship with the
technology. For example, Chesher (2002) argues that digital computers have now
become "invocational media", supporting a range of cultural practices
(reading, writing, viewing, playing, conversing, controlling etc.). He
points to the distance this introduces between the user and the
invocational device — it is increasingly impractical to
understand the low-level mysteries of computers and software,
resulting in the users themselves being used:
'Software features … allow users to perform second order
invocations … Although they are never quite right for the
job at hand, they are usually adequate. When users invoke
something, it is not the "original" expression of the intention of
the users. Instead, invocations are always articulated through many
layers of pre-formed, programmed avocations. Where computers always
promised to empower the sovereign user subject, the relationship
between users and invocational media is more ambiguous.'
(Chesher 2002).
This change in emphasis from 'computer' to 'invocator' is very similar
to Turkle's characterisation of computer development from the
mainframe to the Macintosh (1997b). In the 1970s and early
1980s computers were apparently transparent, with users
interacting directly with the devices through machine instructions,
perhaps mediated through a programming language. In contrast, the
development of graphical user interfaces hid the bare machine from the
user, who now interacted via a surface simulation. As Turkle points
out, the concept of 'transparency' changed its meaning — 'In a
culture of simulation, when people say that something is transparent,
they mean they can see how to make it work, not that they know how it
works.' (Turkle 1997b).
She goes on to talk about the seduction of simulation — the way
in which simulations enable us to think about complex phenomena in a
dynamic manner, but also the way in which we become accustomed to
manipulating a system whose core assumptions we do not understand and
hence leading to the abdication of authority to the simulation.
Increasing distance by inserting layers of opacity between the user
and the way the tools operate, and between the user and the underlying
information in the system has significant implications for archaeology
— not least in the reappearance of the black boxes referred to
above, albeit in a subtly different form.