For all practical purposes, human beings are not telepathic. Since we cannot
read each others' minds, we need some way of getting meanings from the
inside of one person's head to the inside of another's. In order to do
this, the meanings we communicate must take on a physical form that can
pass between us and that can be perceived by our senses. Of course, when
meanings remain within a single individual's thoughts, that is, in cases
of intrapersonal communication, this generalization does not apply. But
with this exception aside, all other communication, whether interpersonal
or mass, necessarily requires that we encode meanings into and decode meanings
from some sort of physically perceptible form that exists outside the minds
of the people communicating.
Furthermore, people do not communicate one continuous, undifferentiated,
never-ending stream of meanings. Rather, we communicate in bits and pieces,
in fits and starts, using objects like books, and during events like conversations.
As we create and interpret discrete sets of messages, we encode meanings
into and decode meanings from distinct chunks of symbolic matter. These
separate chunks of symbolic matter function, in a sense, as units of communication,
and such units of communication can be thought of as texts.
These, then, are two generalizations about communication: first, that communication
entails physical form; and second, that communication involves texts. At
the intersection of these two ideas lies the topic I wish to explore with
you today, that is, the physical form of texts. I will argue that physical
form is a significant aspect of texts which has been largely neglected
up to the present. I base this argument on three points. My first point
is that although communication and media theorists do take physical form
into account, they do not systematically pay attention to texts. My second
point is that although texts are studied by scholars in various other disciplines,
such scholars do not systematically pay attention to physical form. Finally,
I will suggest why I believe that the physical form of texts plays an important
role in communication and how attending to this aspect of texts can contribute
to our understanding of technological change.
Let's start with physical form. Questions of physical form loom large in
communication studies, particularly with regard to the relationship between
media and culture. Media theorists have long stressed the importance of
form and structure in communication. McLuhan's often-quoted aphorism that
"the medium is the message" is perhaps the best-known and most concise
statement of this idea. But McLuhan was certainly not the only thinker
to point out that different media have different formal properties. Socrates
and Plato considered the differences between speech and writing. McLuhan's
colleagues, Harold Innis and Edmund Carpenter, were also concerned with
structural characteristics of media. Neil Postman and others have developed
this line of thinking in the area of communication studies known as media
ecology. In short, there is a rich tradition in communication theory of
attending to issues of physical form.
So lack of attention to physical form is not the problem in communication
studies. From my point of view, the problem here is lack of attention to
texts. What I mean is that communication scholars do not specifically distinguish
the texts we communicate from the technologies and techniques we use to
encode, transmit, and decode texts. You see, the terminology for discussing
the structure of communication is rather jumbled. Theorists use terms like
"medium," "technology," "technique," and "message" imprecisely and inconsistently.
It seems to me that such ambiguous terminology reflects a failure to make
clear and systematic distinctions among the technologies of communication,
the techniques for using such technologies, and the physically perceptible
entities and events involved in communication, the units of symbolic matter
I'm referring to as texts.
This terminological and conceptual disarray is especially evident in historical
research on the relationship between media change and cultural change.
Otherwise penetrating and insightful studies, such as Ong's discussion
of orality and literacy, Eisenstein's history of the printing press, or
Postman's critique of television, to name just a few, are marred by confusion
among technologies, techniques, and texts. In fact, some of the cultural
implications of media change acknowledged by such theorists seem to relate
more specifically to texts than to technologies or techniques.
For example, Eisenstein relates changes in Western culture to the introduction
of print and identifies the printing press itself as the agent of change.
However, many of the cultural shifts she describes clearly concern the
texts, rather than the technologies or techniques of print. What changed
were patterns of production, distribution, and consumption of books and
other printed materials, not the production, distribution, and consumption
of the printing press. Relatively few people ever came in direct contact
with the press or knew anything at all about printing. Of course, the press
did touch people indirectly, in the sense that without it, there would
be no printed materials. Nevertheless, it seems to me that the introduction
of print affected most people primarily through changes in printed texts,
rather than through the technologies or techniques of print, as Eisenstein
claims.
Given that scholars such as these do not always distinguish texts from
technologies or techniques, it is hardly surprising that their research
into the form and structure of media seems muddled at times. Although they
do offer abundant insights into the cultural implications of physical form,
these insights are often partial and vague. Students of communication may
find themselves wondering, as I have, exactly what theorists are referring
to when they discuss the form and structure of media. It seems to me that
in pondering the physical aspects of communication, the following question
arises: which element, which component, which ingredient, so to speak,
of communication is it that actually has physical form?
My answer to this question, as you have no doubt guessed by now, is that
physical form is a property of texts. In communication theory, however,
we find little trace of this idea that texts are the elements which carry
physical form. I suspect this is because communication theory provides
no unified conception of texts nor any coherent set of notions about the
units of communication.
Surveys of theoretical models of communication reveal the same terminological
and conceptual confusion apparent in historical studies of media change.
Communication theories generally include the following basic components:
a sender who encodes meaning into a signal or message that gets transmitted
over a channel to a receiver who decodes meaning. Somewhere in most models
or diagrams (usually in the middle) is an area variously labelled as the
"medium," the "message," the "signal," the "channel," or even the "delivery
system." In this indeterminate region between sender and receiver, physical
form seems to come into play.
Theorists tend to gloss over this mysterious and elusive area, focusing
instead on other aspects of communication. Some researchers study meaning-making
processes, that is, the encoding and decoding of messages. Others investigate
the nature of meaning, in other words, symbolic codes and semantic content.
But as far as the structural or formal units of communication are concerned,
communication scholars have little to say. The way I see it, then, those
who study communication do not systematically attend to the physical form
of texts, perhaps because they do not devote much attention to texts at
all.
Well, who does pay attention to texts? Practically everybody except communication
scholars. "Text" is a popular buzzword nowadays, making its way into an
astonishing variety of disciplines. Diverse conceptions of "text" figure
prominently in fields such as literary and film criticism, rhetoric and
composition theory, discourse analysis and stylistics, linguistics, semiotics,
aesthetics, philosophy, and even computer science. Scholars in such fields
as these differ widely in their notions of what constitutes "text" and
they spend considerable time and energy simply defining and redefining
the term.
The specifics and nuances of how different scholars use the term "text"
are far too complex to review here. Even within a single discipline like
literary criticism, new approaches have evolved as scholars have changed
their points of view. Suffice it to say that the various ways of dealing
with texts involve two general perspectives. On the one hand, some theorists
look at text as content: they examine the symbolic codes and the semantic
substance of the units with which we make meaning. On the other hand, some
scholars see text as process: they investigate how people create and produce
texts or how people interpret and consume texts. In other words, those
who study texts tend either to focus on the sorts of meanings people make,
or to focus on the ways people make meaning. But, alas, they do not systematically
attend to physical form.
Nevertheless, lurking behind several of these approaches is some notion
that texts can and do involve different sorts of physical forms. We can
thank the French scholar Roland Barthes for distinguishing the objects
and events we use to make meaning from the processes of meaning-making.
In his seminal essay, "From Work to Text," Barthes suggests the term "work"
for the objects and events, and reserves the term "text" for the processes.
But unfortunately, from my point of view, he advocates the study of text
as process, and disparages the significance of what he calls the "work."
There are, however, other theorists who do study the "work." Walter Benjamin,
for instance, expresses grave concern about the ways in which mechanical
reproduction may affect conceptions of the authenticity and aesthetic value
of works of art.
But Barthes himself de-emphasizes the physical aspect of texts, which I
find especially ironic, because he strikes me as the thinker most responsible
for expanding our conception of texts as units of communication. As he
once put it, and I quote, "Here I am, before the sea; it is true that it
bears no message. But on the beach, what material for semiology! Flags,
slogans, signals, sign-boards, clothes, suntan even, which are so many
messages to me." (1957/1972, p. 112, n. 2). By analyzing cultural
artifacts and customs as texts, as he does with the face of Garbo or with
Japanese meals, Barthes demonstrates the wide range of objects and events
with which human beings communicate. This broadening of our notion of what
texts can be sets the stage for scholars like Umberto Eco to speak of texts
as diverse as theme parks, museums, cemeteries, religious festivals, zoos,
and sports spectacles. All in all, I would say that although Barthes himself
is not specifically interested in physical form, his ruminations have certainly
increased our awareness of texts.
It seems, then, that there are plenty of theories of texts which contribute
to our understanding of the units involved in communication. The problem
I see here is that scholars focus either on the meanings exchanged through
these units, that is, text as content, or they focus on how we make meaning
with these units, that is, text as process. Only haphazardly and intermittently
do text scholars mention issues related to physical form, leaving this
aspect of texts mostly unexplored. Ultimately, theories of texts provide
no more guidance on the physical form of texts than we find in communication
studies.
So where does all this take us? From studies of media, we gain insight
into the physical form of communication, and from studies of texts, we
gain insight into the units of communication. It does not seem farfetched
to suppose that combining these two lines of inquiry might prove illuminating.
Yet, somehow, those who study physical form do not attend to texts, and
those who study texts do not attend to physical form. Moreover, in both
areas of study, hazy terminology and murky conceptualization cloud the
view, and scant and sporadic observations sometimes obscure as much as
they enlighten. In my opinion, therefore, we have an empty shelf in the
theoretical cupboard, if you will, an intellectual gap to be filled by
research into the physical form of texts.
Having tried to convince you, I hope, that physical form is a neglected
aspect of texts, it now remains for me to move towards a close by explaining
why all this is so important. In order to tell you why I think we should
pay attention to the physical form of texts, I must make a few brief remarks
about the media environment in which we live.
Each of you here right now is acutely aware of how much and how fast media
are evolving. Practically every day, we learn of some new way to communicate
with one another. A whirlwind of technological change leaves us dizzy and
breathless in all social arenas, from academia to commerce to government,
law, and medicine, and just about any other realm you can name. In our
professional lives and in our personal lives, we wonder about the present
and future of media and how we conduct human affairs. One of our most urgent
concerns nowadays is to try and anticipate the cultural impact of this
onslaught of technological change.
Most of us realize, by now, that the majority of new media developments
involve computers in some way. The digital revolution we are currently
undergoing has become a constant preoccupation. And one of its most striking
features, if you think about it, is that digitization enables us to develop
new sorts of texts. With desktop publishing, compact discs, fax machines,
VCRs, satellites, cellular phones, and various other new technologies,
we are busy producing, distributing, and consuming new varieties of texts.
Perhaps the one thing such new texts have in common is that their physical
forms differ radically from the kinds of texts we have known until now.
These new forms of texts challenge our cultural traditions in many domains.
In assessing the impact of the digital revolution, scholars and laypeople
alike are questioning certain cultural conceptions related to texts, conceptions
such as authorship, ownership, privacy, security, and authenticity, among
others. Such conceptions appear increasingly problematic in our digital,
computer-mediated culture. It seems to me that such conceptions are directly
related to differences in the physical form of texts, which, in turn, imply
differences in the ways we produce, distribute, and consume texts. Cultural
conceptions like authorship, ownership, and others such as I have mentioned
are becoming outdated and inadequate due to the rapid development of new
forms of texts.
To sum up then, my view is that the physical form of texts plays an important
role in communication. I believe that we must develop a clearer picture
of the different physical characteristics of texts if we wish to explain
more precisely the relationship between media and culture. We know there
is a relationship between these two, but we have trouble pinpointing exactly
which aspects of media relate to which aspects of culture. My hunch is
that if we develop ways of specifying the physical features of texts, of
analyzing and classifying texts according to their form and structure,
we will come a step closer to understanding the dynamics of media change.
I think we need to consider the following question: what are the differences
in the physical form of texts that make a difference in communication and
culture? In my own research, I am pursuing this line of thinking. It's
a dirty job, as they say, but someone's got to do it. I do take encouragement,
though, from some words written by Neil Postman:
-
...the subject known variously as "Communication," or "Media Studies,"
or..."Media Ecology"...takes as its domain the study of the cultural consequences
of media change.... As a young subject, media ecology must address such
fundamental questions as how to define "media," where to look for cultural
change, and how to link changes in our media environment with changes in
our ways of behaving and feeling. (Postman, 1988, p. 5)
Well, I like to imagine that I'm following Postman's advice. I think attending
to the physical form of texts gives us a new window into the media environment,
a fresh perspective from which to learn more about communication. What
do you think?
|
Papers
