Don't I know it. And I know you've thought about it too, Shane.
DISCLAIMER
This missive comes after months of wiki-community lethargy on my part. Having written it, I kinda wonder whether I'm the right guy to say it. I mean, there's a committed cadre of wiki gurus who through their incredible good faith have pulled together an amazing body of work… all while I've basically been M.I.A.
But then I realize, the reason I've disengaged is because I've lost track of where the community is centered. So here's what's on my mind.
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lumpers, splitters, and filters
I used to think the human race was basically divided into lumpers and splitters, and in any complex network involving many objects, ideas, and people, I cast my lot with the splitters. Because without meticulous categorization and heirarchical organization, how would you ever find anything or define any discussion of it?
But we are sooo past that question, especially in our internet age, and especially especially in a bottom-up, crowd-sourced model like a wiki. Consistent splitting is just too maddeningly difficult when you're dealing with lots of material, lots of unsupervised volunteers, and not much conscious consideration for other people's systems. Assuming community engagement is foremost, then lumping is inevitable, and it's filter, search, and access privileges that slice through the gordian knot of too much unstructured data. The Wikidot community is a classic example — I wish we did a better job at structuring our ListPage filters to make useful lists, and then to rely on admin-only tags and crowd-sourced rating and ranting to emphasize priorities.
Go West, young man
To some extent, we do these things. We create, filter, and prioritize here in the Community. But we have a dominant nomadic (might I say American?) tendency to create new spaces, to use them till they become over-populated and overly cluttered, and then we abandon them in favor of some new, cleaner, untrammeled venue. Our Wikidot cognoscenti perpetuate the ongoing (negative) frontiersman pattern of abandoning old spaces and staking out new wikitopias where they plan to do the community's business — hatch bold new ideas, discuss, create new lists, build new tools, and continue to chip away at the huge body of work that results.
It usually happens like this:
- A highly-functioning Wikidotian announces, "Compatriots! Follow me! Let's organize our best thinking over here."
- That's an attractive proposition, and a cadre of other wikizens load up their newfangled feed-readers and join the wagon train. In their Brave New Wiki, they contribute their knowledge and skills, often to great effect.
- Sometimes the new space is explicitly restricted to certain users. Mostly, participation is restricted by default, because most of the community hasn't yet figured out where the action is.
- But inevitably, the wishlists and the bug reports get longer, more complicated, more redundant, more ponderous — especially as more users learn this is where the real work is happening. That's when we start seeing alerts like —
"Don't even think of posting your help requests here. Those belong in the community. "
- Eventually, we're again mired in huge long, cumbersome discussion threads, and again it's again difficult to coordinate the workflow.
- At which point, a highly-functioning Wikidotian announces, "Compatriots! Follow me! Let's organize our best thinking over here."
But what have we left behind?
When we follow our wiki-frontiersman urges and shift the community's work to one or several new sites, we sever ties. We leave behind a body of work: institutional memory, outdated content (and therefore often confusing content), and the remains of so many unfinished project ideas. But more importantly, we leave behind people. It sounds kinda trite to say it, because hey, this is the internet, and my desktop can take me anywhere at all. But for many users — for most newbies and many experienced wikiphiles too — when we move regularly, they lose focus, and we lose them.
To my mind, the biggest loss is this: by moving the center of activity away from the Community site, we diminish the ties between the highly-motivated and skilled guru Wikidotians and everybody else. By design, our experts engage less frequently with the community's users and its content. And when the rest of the unwashed wiki-masses come to the Community seeking to better themselves and their own wiki-spaces, they're perplexed and confounded by the multiplicity of spaces where questions are lodged and where enlightenment resides. In the Community, they're deprived of the insights of many wiki-gurus, whose attention is now focused elsewhere.
The uninitiated might stumble on any number of pages, categories, and sites, some still active, others just the remains of ruined wiki-settlements of yore…
Solution?
Maybe we've struck upon a workable solution in the projects site, which seems to pull together a bunch of prototype sites and creative Wikidot community sites into one overarching framework. Maybe the magic of Cross-Site Includes and melded RSS feeds will eventually help to reconnect so many lost linkages. But I've been hanging around for a couple years now, and I regularly get lost looking for stuff around here. And disorientation is a big obstacle to participation.
So here's my request — could we please keep our nomadic yearnings in check, and whenever possible, let's please center our work in the Community site.
End of rant. Please discuss.