Tag Archives: Book

Reflections on Digital Humanitarians – The Book

In January 2014, I wrote this blog post announcing my intention to write a book on Digital Humanitarians. Well, it’s done! And launches this week. The book has already been endorsed by scholars at Harvard, MIT, Stanford, Oxford, etc; by practitioners at the United Nations, World Bank, Red Cross, USAID, DfID, etc; and by others including Twitter and National Geographic. These and many more endorsements are available here. Brief summaries of each book chapter are available here; and the short video below provides an excellent overview of the topics covered in the book. Together, these overviews make it clear that this book is directly relevant to many other fields including journalism, human rights, development, activism, business management, computing, ethics, social science, data science, etc. In short, the lessons that digital humanitarians have learned (often the hard way) over the years and the important insights they have gained are directly applicable to fields well beyond the humanitarian space. To this end, Digital Humanitarians is written in a “narrative and conversational style” rather than with dense, technical language.

The story of digital humanitarians is a multifaceted one. Theirs is not just a story about using new technologies to make sense of “Big Data”. For the most part, digital humanitarians are volunteers; volunteers from all walks of life and who occupy every time zone. Many are very tech-savvy and pull all-nighters, but most simply want to make a difference using the few minutes they have with the digital technologies already at their fingertips. Digital humanitarians also include pro-democracy activists who live in countries ruled by tyrants. This story is thus also about hope and humanity; about how technology can extend our humanity during crises. To be sure, if no one cared, if no one felt compelled to help others in need, or to change the status quo, then no one even would bother to use these new, next generation humanitarian technologies in the first place.

I believe this explains why Professor Leysia Palen included the following in her very kind review of my book: “I dare you to read this book and not have both your heart and mind opened.” As I reflected to my editor while in the midst of book writing, an alternative tag line for the title could very well be “How Big Data and Big Hearts are Changing the Face of Humanitarian Response.” It is personally and deeply important to me that the media, would-be volunteers  and others also understand that the digital humanitarians story is not a romanticized story about a few “lone heroes” who accomplish the impossible thanks to their super human technical powers. There are thousands upon thousands of largely anonymous digital volunteers from all around the world who make this story possible. And while we may not know all their names, we certainly do know about their tireless collective action efforts—they mobilize online from all corners of our Blue Planet to support humanitarian efforts. My book explains how these digital volunteers do this, and yes, how you can too.

Digital humanitarians also include a small (but growing) number of forward-thinking professionals from large and well-known humanitarian organizations. After the tragic, nightmarish earthquake that struck Haiti in January 2010, these seasoned and open-minded humanitarians quickly realized that making sense of “Big Data” during future disasters would require new thinking, new risk-taking, new partnerships, and next generation humanitarian technologies. This story thus includes the invaluable contributions of those change-agents and explains how these few individuals are enabling innovation within the large bureaucracies they work in. The story would thus be incomplete without these individuals; without their appetite for risk-taking, their strategic understanding of how to change (and at times circumvent) established systems from the inside to make their organizations still relevant in a hyper-connected world. This may explain why Tarun Sarwal of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) in Geneva included these words (of warning) in his kind review: “For anyone in the Humanitarian sector — ignore this book at your peril.”

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Today, this growing, cross-disciplinary community of digital humanitarians are crafting and leveraging ingenious crowdsourcing solutions with trail-blazing insights from advanced computing and artificial intelligence in order to make sense of “Big Data” generated during disasters. In virtually real-time, these new solutions (many still in early prototype stages) enable digital volunteers to make sense of vast volumes of social media, SMS and imagery captured from satellites & UAVs to support relief efforts worldwide.

All of this obviously comes with a great many challenges. I certainly don’t shy away from these in the book (despite my being an eternal optimist : ). As Ethan Zuckerman from MIT very kindly wrote in his review of the book,

“[Patrick] is also a careful scholar who thinks deeply about the limits and potential dangers of data-centric approaches. His book offers both inspiration for those around the world who want to improve our disaster response and a set of fertile challenges to ensure we use data wisely and ethically.”

Digital humanitarians are not perfect, they’re human, they make mistakes, they fail; innovation, after all, takes experimenting, risk-taking and failing. But most importantly, these digital pioneers learn, innovate and over time make fewer mistakes. In sum, this book charts the sudden and spectacular rise of these digital humanitarians and their next generation technologies by sharing their remarkable, real-life stories and the many lessons they have learned and hurdles both cleared & still standing. In essence, this book highlights how their humanity coupled with innovative solutions to “Big Data” is changing humanitarian response forever. Digital Humanitarians will make you think differently about what it means to be humanitarian and will invite you to join the journey online. And that is what it’s ultimately all about—action, responsible & effective action.

Why did I write this book? The main reason may perhaps come as a surprise—one word: hope. In a world seemingly overrun by heart-wrenching headlines and daily reminders from the news and social media about all the ugly and cruel ways that technologies are being used to spy on entire populations, to harass, oppress, target and kill each other, I felt the pressing need to share a different narrative; a narrative about how selfless volunteers from all walks of life, from all ages, nationalities, creeds use digital technologies to help complete strangers on the other side of the planet. I’ve had the privilege of witnessing this digital good-will first hand and repeatedly over the years. This goodwill is what continues to restore my faith in humanity and what gives me hope, even when things are tough and not going well. And so, I wrote Digital Humanitarians first and fore-most to share this hope more widely. We each have agency and we can change the world for the better. I’ve seen this and witnessed the impact first hand. So if readers come away with a renewed sense of hope and agency after reading the book, I will have achieved my main objective.

For updates on events, talks, trainings, webinars, etc, please click here. I’ll be organizing a Google Hangout on March 5th for readers who wish to discuss the book in more depth and/or follow up with any questions or ideas. If you’d like additional information on this and future Hangouts, please click on the previous link. If you wish to join ongoing conversations online, feel free to do so with the FB & Twitter hashtag #DigitalJedis. If you’d like to set up a book talk and/or co-organize a training at your organization, university, school, etc., then do get in touch. If you wish to give a talk on the book yourself, then let me know and I’d be happy to share my slides. And if you come across interesting examples of digital humanitarians in action, then please consider sharing these with other readers and myself by using the #DigitalJedis hashtag and/or by sending me an email so I can include your observation in my monthly newsletter and future blog posts. I also welcome guest blog posts on iRevolutions.

Naturally, this book would never have existed were it for digital humanitarians volunteering their time—day and night—during major disasters across the world. This book would also not have seen the light of day without the thoughtful guidance and support I received from these mentors, colleagues, friends and my family. I am thus deeply and profoundly grateful for their spirit, inspiration and friendship. Onwards!

Digital Jedis: There Has Been An Awakening…

Crisis Mapping in Areas of Limited Statehood

I had the great pleasure of contributing a chapter to this new book recently published by Oxford University Press: Bits and Atoms: Information and Communication Technology in Areas of Limited Statehood. My chapter addresses the application of crisis mapping to areas of limited statehood, drawing both on theory and hands-on experience. The short introduction to my chapter is provided below to help promote and disseminate the book.

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Introduction

Crises often challenge or limit statehood and the delivery of government services. The concept of “limited statehood” thus allows for a more realistic description of the territorial and temporal variations of governance and service delivery. Total statehood, in any case, is mostly imagined—a cognitive frame or pre-structured worldview. In a sense, all states are “spatially challenged” in that the projection of their governance is hardly enforceable beyond a certain geographic area and period of time. But “limited statehood” does not imply the absence of governance or services. Rather, these may simply take on alternate forms, involving procedures that are non-institutional (see Chapter 1). Therein lies the tension vis-à-vis crises, since “the utopian, immanent, and continually frustrated goal of the modern state is to reduce the chaotic, disorderly, constantly changing social reality beneath it to something more closely resembling the administrative grid of its observations” (Scott 1998). Crises, by definition, publicly disrupt these orderly administrative constructs. They are brutal audits of governance structures, and the consequences can be lethal for state continuity. Recall the serious disaster response failures that occurred following the devastating cyclone of 1970 in East Pakistan.

To this day, Cyclone Bhola still remains the most deadly cyclone on record, killing some 500,000 people. The lack of timely and coordinated government response was one of the triggers for the war of independence that resulted in the creation of Bangladesh (Kelman 2007). While crises can challenge statehood, they also lead to collective, self-help behavior among disaster-affected communities—particularly in areas of limited statehood. Recently, this collective action—facilitated by new information and communication technologies—has swelled and resulted in the production of live crisis maps that identify the disaggregated, raw impact of a given crisis along with resulting needs for services typically provided by the government (see Chapter  7). These crisis maps are sub-national and are often crowdsourced in near real-time. They empirically reveal the limited contours of governance and reframe how power is both perceived and projected (see Chapter 8).

Indeed, while these live maps outline the hollows of governance during times of upheaval, they also depict the full agency and public expression of citizens who self-organize online and offline to fill these troughs with alternative, parallel forms of services and thus governance. This self-organization and public expression also generate social capital between citizen volunteers—weak and strong ties that nurture social capital and facilitate future collective action both on and offline.

The purpose of this chapter is to analyze how the rise of citizen-generated crisis maps replaces governance in areas of limited statehood and to distill the conditions for their success. Unlike other chapters in this book, the analysis below focuses on a variable that has been completely ignored in the literature:  digital social capital. The chapter is thus structured as follows. The first section provides a brief introduction to crisis mapping and frames this overview using James Scott’s discourse from Seeing Like a State (1998). The next section briefly highlights examples of crisis maps in action—specifically those responding to natural disasters, political crises, and contested elections. The third section provides a broad comparative analysis of these case studies, while the fourth section draws on the findings of this analysis to produce a list of ingredients that are likely to render crowdsourced crisis-mapping more successful in areas of limited statehood. These ingredients turn out to be factors that nurture and thrive on digital social capital such as trust, social inclusion, and collective action. These drivers need to be studied and monitored as conditions for successful crisis maps and as measures of successful outcomes of online digital collaboration. In sum, digital crisis maps both reflect and change social capital.

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Social Media: The First 2,000 Years

What do Papyrus rolls and Twitter have in common? Both were used as a means of “instant” communication. Indeed, a careful reading of history reveals just how ancient social media really is. Further, the questions we pose about social media today have already been debated countless times over hundreds of years. Author Tom Standage traces this fascinating history of social media in his thought-provoking book Writing on the Wall: Social Media – The First 2,000 YearsIn so doing, Tom forces us to rethink our understanding and assumptions of social media use today. To be sure, this book will change the way you think about social media. I highlight some of the most intriguing insights below.

Marcus Tullius Cicero (106 BC to 43 BC) was a Roman philosopher, politician and lawyer. When Julius Caesar relocated him from Rome to a distant output, Cicero drew on an elaborate communication system and social network to stay abreast of events in the capital. Printing presses did not exist at the time, nor did paper for that matter. So papyrus rolls were used to exchange letters and other documents, which were in turn copied, commented on and shared. In this way, Cicero received timely updates on politics and gossip coming from Rome, having asked his contacts in the capital to write him daily. Common abbreviations were soon used to save space and time, much like today’s acronyms on social media (e.g., BTW, AFAIK) . SVBEEV (si vales, bene est, ego valeo), for example, was a popular acronym for “if you are well, that is good, I am well.” Often, letters were also quoted in other letters, much like blog posts today. In fact, some letters during Cicero’s time were “addressed to several people and were written [….] to be posted in public for general consumption.”

The enabling infrastructure of this information system was slavery—many of the scribes and messengers who copied and delivered messages were slaves. In short, “slaves were the Roman equivalent of broadband.” Friends were also used to carry letters across cities, countries and indeed continents. “One advantage of getting friends to pass on the news was that they could highlight items of interest and add their own comments or background information in the covering letters they sent along with the copied letters. The combination of personal letters and impersonal news was more valuable then either in isolation, because each provided additional context for the other. And then, as now, one was far more likely to pay attention if a friend said it was important or expressed an opinion about it.”

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Not all letters during Cicero’s time were sent via papyrus rolls. Wax tablets (pictured above) mounted in wooden frames “that fold together like a book” were used for messages sent over a short distance, which required a quick reply. “To modern eyes, these tablets […] look strikingly similar to tablet computers. The recipient’s response could be scratched onto the same tablet, and the messenger who had delivered it would then take it straight back to the sender.” Earlier, in Mesopotamia, “letters were written in cuneiform on small clay tablets that fit neatly into the palm of the hand. Letters almost always fit onto a single tablet, which imposed a limit on the length of the message.” One can’t help but draw parallels with smartphones and Twitter.

Graffiti was also served as a social media some 2,000 years ago. In Pompeii, for example, ancient graffiti was found on the streets, in bars and also in private houses. Writing graffiti was not regarded as defacement at the time. “The most prominent messages, painted in large letters, were political slogans expressing support for candidates running for election […].” Criticisms of political candidates were also found in Pompeii’s ancient graffiti, as were advertisements for events and even rental vacancies. As author Tom Standage notes, “the great merit of graffiti is that one did not have to be a magistrate […] to add one’s voice to the conversation; the walls were open to everyone.”

The following graffiti messages found in Pompeii reveal what ordinary people were thinking about:

“I won 8,522 denarii by gaming, fair play!”

“I made bread”

“The man I am having dinner with is a barbarian”

“Atimetus got me pregnant”

These provided “glimpses of everyday activities, rather like status updates on modern social networks.” In addition, graffiti messages were left near inns as advice to potential customers, serving both positive and negative reviews, much like today’s Yelp and related websites. “More practical still were the messages addressed to specific people.” Examples include:

“Samius to Cornelius: go hang yourself!”

“Gaius Sabinus says a fond hello to Statius. Traveler, eat bread in Pompeii but go to Nuceria to drink. At Nuceria, the drinking is better”

According to Tom, there are “even a few examples of dialogues, where an inscription inspired comments or responses.” Not surprisingly, perhaps, “the sexual boasts and scatological humor familiar from modern graffiti in public lavatories can also be found in Pompeii […].” Like much of social media today, a lot of the ancient graffiti that appeared on the walls of Pompeii was of no interest to anyone. As one graffiti message, which appeared four times in the ancient city laments: “Oh wall, I am amazed you haven’t fallen down, since you bear the tedious scribblings of so many writers.”

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In the 1500’s, as printing presses multiplied and religious pamphlets vent viral, there was growing anxiety about the potential spread of false information (and seditious books). This ignited a heated debate on whether printing should be tightly regulated. In England, the company that had been given draconian powers to destroy unregistered printing presses and books that painted the Monarchy in bad light. This company argued the following:

“If every man may print, that is so disposed, it may be a means, that heresies, treasons, and seditious libelles shall be too often dispersed, whereas if only known men do print this inconvenience is avoided.”

Again, the parallels with today’s debate over the reliability of crowdsourcing and user-generated content are clear. But the growing desire for new in Europe during the Thirty Year’s War (early 1600’s) made crowdsourcing a compelling approach for the collection of news reports. Indeed, the increasing demand for “news about the war led to the appearance of a new type of publication: the coranto. This was a single sheet, printed on both sides, with a compilation of items, usually letters or eyewitness accounts of battles or other notable events. […]. Being anonymous, corantos were regarded as less trustworthy than handwritten news letters, which often related news at first hand.” So a backlash against corantos was inevitable, with criticism that we hear today about social media. For example, one critic at the time “thought it dangerous for ordinary people to have greater access to news, because printing allowed rumors and falsehoods to spread, causing social and political instability.”

In any event, “the pamphlets of the 1640’s existed in an interconnected web, constantly referring to, quoting, or in dialogue with each other, like blog posts today.” As this information web continued continued to scale, “the bewildering variety of new voices and formats made it very difficult to work out what was going on. As one observer put it, ‘oft times we have much more printed than is true.” But John Milton didn’t buy the arguments for regulating written speech. Milton countered that no one is truly capable of acting as a reasonable censor since humans are susceptible to  error or bias. While press freedom would allow “bad or erroneous works to be printed,” Milton argued that this was actually a good thing. “If more readers came into contact with bad ideas because of printing, those ideas could be more swiftly and easily disproved.” In essence, Milton was making the case for crowdsourced verification of information. Similar arguments have recently been made.

coffee-house

Meanwhile, at the coffee house. The first caffeinated drink reached Europe around the 1600’s. “And along with the coffee bean itself came the institution of the coffeehouse, which had become an important meeting place and source of news in the Arab world.” The same was to happen in Europe, where coffeehouses served the same function as today’s co-working spaces and innovation hubs/labs. Some coffee houses were “thronged with businessmen, who would keep regular hours at particular coffee houses so that their associates would know where to find them, and who used coffee houses as offices, meeting rooms, and venues for trade.” Indeed, “the main business of coffee houses was the sharing and discussion of news and opinion […].” In sum, “coffee houses were an alluring social platform for sharing information.”

There’s a lot more to “Writing on the Wall” than summarized above, such as the tension between press regulation and freedom, how the era of centralized, mass media dominance was a two-century anomaly in the natural course of social media, the origins of the political economy of mass media, etc. So I highly recommend this book to iRevolution readers. I, for one, relished it.


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Yes, I’m Writing a Book (on Digital Humanitarians)

I recently signed a book deal with Taylor & Francis Press. The book, which is tentatively titled “Digital Humanitarians: How Big Data is Changing the Face of Disaster Response,” is slated to be published next year. The book will chart the rise of digital humanitarian response from the Haiti Earthquake to 2015, highlighting critical lessons learned and best practices. To this end, the book will draw on real-world examples of digital humanitarians in action to explain how they use new technologies and crowdsourcing to make sense of “Big (Crisis) Data”. In sum, the book will describe how digital humanitarians & humanitarian technologies are together reshaping the humanitarian space and what this means for the future of disaster response. The purpose of this book is to inspire and inform the next generation of (digital) humanitarians while serving as a guide for established humanitarian organizations & emergency management professionals who wish to take advantage of this transformation in humanitarian response.

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The book will thus consolidate critical lessons learned in digital humanitarian response (such as the verification of social media during crises) so that members of the public along with professionals in both international humanitarian response and domestic emergency management can improve their own relief efforts in the face of “Big Data” and rapidly evolving technologies. The book will also be of interest to academics and students who wish to better understand methodological issues around the use of social media and user-generated content for disaster response; or how technology is transforming collective action and how “Big Data” is disrupting humanitarian institutions, for example. Finally, this book will also speak to those who want to make a difference; to those who of you who may have little to no experience in humanitarian response but who still wish to help others affected during disasters—even if you happen to be thousands of miles away. You are the next wave of digital humanitarians and this book will explain how you can indeed make a difference.

The book will not be written in a technical or academic writing style. Instead, I’ll be using a more “storytelling” form of writing combined with a conversational tone. This approach is perfectly compatible with the clear documentation of critical lessons emerging from the rapidly evolving digital humanitarian space. This conversational writing style is not at odds with the need to explain the more technical insights being applied to develop next generation humanitarian technologies. Quite on the contrary, I’ll be using intuitive examples & metaphors to make the most technical details not only understandable but entertaining.

While this journey is just beginning, I’d like to express my sincere thanks to my mentors for their invaluable feedback on my book proposal. I’d also like to express my deep gratitude to my point of contact at Taylor & Francis Press for championing this book from the get-go. Last but certainly not least, I’d like to sincerely thank the Rockefeller Foundation for providing me with a residency fellowship this Spring in order to accelerate my writing.

I’ll be sure to provide an update when the publication date has been set. In the meantime, many thanks for being an iRevolution reader!

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