Networking in a tech-mediated world

Today marks the end of week 13 of a kind of full court press on social networking that I’ve embarked upon. I’m going to try not to talk (or write) about the experience like this is my final blog post, but this week does in fact mark the end of the formal requirement to engage in online networking as part of #comm506. So in a way, this particular post represents a unique opportunity for me to briefly reflect on the past 13 weeks while also looking ahead.

Let’s start with looking at the blogging experience. While it’s something that I’m relatively new to, I really enjoyed incorporating blogging within an academic context (i.e., as part of #mact2014). Blogging is certainly a unique shift away from a closed learning environment to one that’s inherently open and publicly accessible. I found that shift to be interesting in a couple of ways. First, it has a cognitive dimension in so far as one becomes more conscious of writing or expressing ideas that at least have the potential to be viewed and commented upon by virtually anyone with an Internet connection. That realization, in itself, can have an impact on how one approaches the writing of a blog—in contrast to the closed Moodle platform that all of us in the MACT program are accustomed to using. And second, blogging can also be used to link to other social tools such as Twitter (e.g., using other social platforms to actively publicize and promote one’s writing).

Will I continue blogging now that #comm506 has concluded? Well, I’ll answer that by saying this: having now had the experience, I can vouch for the tremendous benefits of this form of expression (largely for the reasons above) in relation to synthesizing, curating, and creating knowledge—all of which are important if one doesn’t normally have opportunities to write in a creative and personal way through everyday work responsibilities and other daily commitments. So yes, I do see myself at least trying to contribute somewhat regularly to this blog.

I also enjoyed applying networking theory to the use of other social tools over the past several weeks. For example, prior to this course, I had no LinkedIn account. And while the start of the course provided an opportunity to develop an account built initially on the density of the #comm506 network, I truly enjoyed further connecting with present and past colleagues whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with over the past several years. My experience in going from having no presence on this valuable professional platform to having more than 30 connections (on last count) certainly felt productive. I still need to make a few more connections before I can acquire “all-star” status, but LinkedIn is another tool that I look forward to further fleshing out and building upon as I move forward.

When it comes to Twitter, I share the sentiments expressed by one of my MACT cohort colleagues, Rebecca Fletcher, who summed it up well by saying: “Comm506’s networking component made me tweet like a crazy person.” Besides being able to try out new tricks (e.g., placing a period in front of a mention), I found Twitter to be extremely valuable from a learning perspective. Not only does it provide an opportunity to stay on top of breaking news or events, it also allows me to follow a diverse range of individuals who share interesting and thought-provoking ideas, articles, and perspectives. As part of Comm506, I enjoyed contributing to the exchange of links, 140 character messages, and responses—having gone from only a handful of tweets at the start of the course to having now issued nearly 190 tweets, and going from three followers to more than 40.

Besides using it to upload my first YouTube video, my Google + account is still a work in progress. Without making any excuses on this front, I do think there’s a lot of merit in what Jodi Dean has to say in her article, The Limits of Communication. While the article talks about “cognitive labour” and the “tether of 24/7 availability,” I think what it’s really getting at is the inherent lack of value in over-extending oneself in a digital sense. I kind of feel that way about Google +. It’s a tool that I may choose to further use as part of my social networking activities in the future, but for the time being, I’d prefer to focus on a few tools that I can manage well, rather than being thinly spread out over multiple platforms.

So that’s my take on social networking over the past 13 weeks. It’s hard to imagine that networking actually existed in a pre-digital age. I wonder what Comm506 would have looked like without the Internet being so ubiquitous. This week’s course readings focused a lot on how entire global movements are dedicated to ensuring the Internet remains a free and accessible communication tool. Yet, the very act of networking in a tech-mediated world seems to highlight the role of technology in profoundly shaping how networks develop and evolve, for better or for worse, in the digital age.

Reconciling hierarchy with consensus-based decision making in social networks

In going through this week’s course materials for #comm506, what really piqued my interest was the questioning and critiques around the varying degrees of effectiveness of social networks based on their structural characteristics. The diverse views and opinions on this topic highlight that the question is by no means a settled issue. However, I do think that research into how a network can exert influence and remain resilient is important for two reasons: First, it may potentially lead to a kind of universal blueprint for an effective organizational structure that can exist outside of the formal institutional settings that most of us are aware of (e.g., corporate/government/non-profit structures); and second, it can probably help shed light on the extent to which an online network is an effective end in itself, as well as the role of ‘real-world’ action in translating virtual collaboration into something more meaningful. But before those conclusions can be reached, the two imaginaries that currently exist in relation to network structures would surely need to be reconciled somehow:

On one hand, writers such as Malcolm Gladwell and Evgeny Morozov seem to make it clear that while the Internet is certainly a tool to help effect social change, the role of leaders and hierarchies in organizing various social justice movements is central to maintaining a sustained and effective form of activism—the kind we saw, for example, during the recent Arab Spring and even the civil rights movement of mid-20th century USA. Morozov, for example, totally refutes the notion that recent protests in the Middle East “were organized by random people doing random things online.” To put it another way, networks must have some form of hierarchical structure to coordinate the flow of work and direct resources to the objectives of the network.

Yet, on the other hand, if we look at an organization such as Anonymous (an international network of hacktivists), what we see is exactly a type of network that seems to shun any form of hierarchy or leadership but is nonetheless able to carry out its mandate of cyberactivism with at least some degree of success. As Gabriella Coleman puts it in her piece, Anonymous has a decidedly “anti-leader and anti-celebrity ethic” (though its members do reportedly have varying degrees of influence based on their level of participation). And nor does Anonymous limit its activities to only the virtual sphere, as is evident in the real-world protests that it has helped coordinate on various occasions.

So where do these two opposites leave us? As is probably the case with many such dichotomies, the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. I would think that some form of coordinated structure is in fact required for the various nodes of a network to all work towards the same goal or outcome. But I also think that the structure can take on various different forms. Leadership and hierarchy are the obvious structures for getting work done, but the actors in Anonymous who merely provide “infrastructural support” also seem to represent a valid approach to enabling a more dispersed and loosely aligned form of collective action. Ultimately, I think what matters more is the nature of the activity itself. If the goal is to focus on disruption as a means for social change (e.g., Anonymous), a more decentralized and leaderless approach seems fitting. But if the goal is to both disrupt and to present a plausible, alternative political structure (Arab Spring), then hierarchy and leadership would seem to be a requirement in order to address “the day after” question.

This is a complicated topic but a really fascinating debate that appears to be unfolding as part of network theory.

 

The paradox of independent media

One of the interesting highlights that stems from this week’s course materials, including an article by Dorothy Kidd called The IMC: A New Model, is the sense of convergence between news media and the qualities inherent to social networks.

On one hand, global sources of news such as the Independent Media Centre (IMC) have thrived largely due to communication technologies that enable audiences to “become their own news editors [by] using multiple networking and interactive options.” In fact, Kidd outlines how the very notion of independent media, while not a new idea per se, has experienced “rapid growth…due to the dynamism of the model” (i.e., a decentralized, networked global structure all connected through communication technologies). At their heart, independent media attempt to counter what some perceive as a sense of homophily within mainstream media, or as Charles Kadushin refers to, “the ‘birds of a feather flock together’ principle.” Critics of mainstream media argue that homophily, combined with the gatekeeping role of media, has meant that only a limited number and type of stories or global issues receive coverage, with various global social justice movements receiving little to no attention at all.

But social networks are multi-faceted in both their structures and ability to mediate human interaction, which means that while independent media may be thriving by leveraging the power of networks, they too are susceptible to the dynamics of social networks in ways that are both positive and negative. Kadushin, for example, says that “social networks based on homophily may be fundamentally ‘unfair’” because similar people may come together in a way that leaves others out. In the case of independent media, one of the biggest challenges outlined by Kidd is in fact a sense of homophily whereby volunteers all seem to come from the same demographic background and handful of countries. Other aspects of social networking theory can also be seen in how a lack of Internet access in some parts of the world has essentially meant that the density of the independent media network is centred in more affluent areas of the world.

Of course, this isn’t to say that independent media haven’t achieved a significant sense of diffusion, or as Kidd puts it, a “global reach into many different communities.” But I think the important point is ultimately this: any network form of organizing and collaborating that is built to counter certain flaws inherent within a network such as mainstream media must ultimately deal with those same flaws itself. That’s not to say that the new network can’t successfully mitigate those flaws, but it too will at least encounter the sense of unfairness inherent to social networks that Kadushin outlines.

To put it another way, Kidd says about independent media that “the tremendous power of convergent and networked architecture shrunk the battles over resources, but by no means eliminated them.” Based on the theories of Charles Kadushin and other social networking scholars, some might fundamentally question whether any social network, including independent media, can ever fully eliminate the issue over resources and principles related to homophily and density. These seem to be fundamental human traits that play out in the evolution of any social network, no matter what its original intent or ultimate goal.

Balancing strong communities (aka social capital) and innovation

As I was going through this week’s readings, I couldn’t help but think of the paradox of promoting strong communities while also fostering innovation and leading-edge forms of entrepreneurship.

On one hand, Charles Kadushin, in chapter 10 of Understanding Social Networks, refers quite extensively to Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone, which essentially argues that the “culture of social trust” and the kind of robust “communal participation” that once characterized local communities—in spheres ranging from political and civic affairs to volunteering and workplace activities—is now on a steep decline. Notwithstanding the rebuttal that social capital has simply been reinvented in the digital age (as Clay Shirky outlines in chapter eight of Here Comes Everybody), the decline of social capital does appear to suggest a complex set of implications for communities across North America.

For scholars such as Kadushin, the importance of social capital (and its characteristics of trust, reciprocity, social support, access to resources and solidarity), is evident across a range of scenarios, from “improved occupational outcomes” at the individual level to lower rates of heart disease at the community level. Yet, while Kadushin certainly makes it clear that social capital has tangible benefits for both communities and individuals—in ways that extend far beyond just dialogic communication—other scholars and thought leaders have noted that there are actually some significant positive outcomes that stem from the absence of social capital. For example, Richard Florida, author of The Creative Class, recently pointed out in an article published in The Atlantic that “innovation and entrepreneurship tend to thrive in more diverse communities with lower levels of social capital.” As Florida puts it, social capital can potentially mean that “similar people engage with similar people, stifling the diversity of social connections that entrepreneurs need to succeed.”

So in a nutshell, the absence of social capital is both good and bad. This duality leads to some interesting questions for sociologists, community planners, policy makers, communications scholars, and of course, citizens themselves. First, if we equate the presence of social capital with strong, healthy communities, can we realistically expect the co-existence of both innovation and communities characterized by trust and social support? Second, if evidence does in fact point to a decline in social capital, is there corresponding evidence that innovation is on the rise? And finally, is there a way to achieve a balance between the two, and what might that balance look like?

Regardless of the form that social capital ultimately takes (digital or real world), the answers to these questions, especially the last one, depend heavily on the values and aspirations of the community and its members. Perhaps the solution to this dilemma lies in an organizational structure that supports the existence of communities within a larger community. In other words, to experience the best of both worlds—strong social capital and robust innovation—one solution may be to enable strong bonding to occur within communities yet simultaneously encourage an equally strong from of bridging between those various nodes. This may already be the ideal structure of large metropolitan centres that consist of individual and often distinct neighborhoods that nonetheless identify and connect with the larger city to which they belong. Or as Kadushin says, it’s about the “tradeoff between the comfort and support individuals derive from dense networks…and the benefits achieved by going beyond local circles.”

Understanding nation states through the concept of a “netwar”

One of the most fascinating concepts stemming from this week’s readings on network theory, especially the opening chapter of The Advent of Netwar by John Arquilla and David Ronfeldt, is the notion of a scenario in which “numerous dispersed groups using the latest communication technologies could act conjointly across great distances” (i.e., “netwar”). Despite the name of the term, which inevitably reflects its application to conflict and military engagement, netwar is actually a concept that can help to significantly strengthen civil society and social activism by enabling individuals or organizations spread across vast geographical distances to overcome sociocultural and linguistic differences and basically all work towards a similar end goal. Although the Internet can help facilitate the idea of a netwar, Arquilla and Ronfeldt are quick to note that this form of social organization is about more than just technology; in fact, new technologies aren’t “absolutely necessary for a netwar actor.”

While the book’s first chapter acknowledges a few different ways in which the netwar concept can be used to conceptualize various different “organizational and operational capabilities,” I would contend that one of the most interesting possibilities for the application of netwar theory is to that of nation states and their political systems—especially those that are built upon structures that resemble a federation of various different jurisdictions. Unlike a larger organization that might be more diverse in terms of the perspectives of its members, (e.g., United Nations), the nodes found within a nation state generally share the same (or at least a similar) set of overarching “principles, interests, and goals”—a prerequisite for a netwar to successfully occur.

So, if we apply the netwar concept to understanding how a country works, what would this look like? For one, it becomes possible to think of a country as being more than just a hierarchical structure in which there’s a single central authority that disseminates all decisions, to instead visualizing an “all channel network” where each node (a region, state/province or territory) is connected to each other. Within each node, there are still further networks (consisting of communities and municipalities) that take on different forms (hierarchical, all-channel, or hybrid), but the important idea from the standpoint of nation building and national unity is that each part of the network (i.e., country) is engaged with each other in an equally meaningful way.

The question that may come to mind is this: What difference does it really make as to how we conceptualize a nation state—whether through netwar theory or some other way of visualizing how a country works? The answer may lie in the notion of allowing for more flexible and relativistic ways of envisioning a national narrative and possibly alleviating regional tension that often stems from the perception that one part of a nation state is essentially defining an entire country (e.g., we often see these debates in Canada through the ongoing focus on ensuring the various regions of the country have a say in national policies). In other words, netwar represents another way of thinking about a nation state at a time when the information revolution is “favoring and strengthening network forms of organization, often giving them an advantage over hierarchical forms.”

I’m sure this would make for an interesting case study depending on the country to which netwar theory gets applied. Perhaps some political scientists have already begun to conceptualize nation states in such a way, but I hope this blog post provides some insight into yet another way that netwar theory can be applied in a geopolitical sense.

Fig. 1.1 – Three Basic Types of Networks according to John Arquilla and David Ronfeldt. My question is whether it matters how we conceptualize the nation state, and are there benefits in thinking of federal states as all channel networks rather than hierarchical organizations?

Globalization through the lens of networks

One of the key ideas that stands out for me in this week’s readings, especially chapter nine of Understanding Social Networks by Charles Kadushin and the conclusion of The Rise of the Network Society by Manuel Castells, is the notion of modern networks being the backbone of the phenomenon we know today as globalization. Globalization as a concept that involves the spread of ideas across national boundaries isn’t really new per se. But what does seem remarkable about globalization in the modern era is the pace at which products, ideas, innovation or even disease can spread across the entire globe as a result of communication or other technologies. Whether one views the impact of globalization positively, negatively, or with a sense of ambivalence, it’s nonetheless easy to see a strong correlation between Kadushin’s depiction of networks and the global diffusion of ideas through those networks.

For example, when Kadushin describes the difference between “centrality in a dense network” and “centrality as a bridge,” I’m inclined to think of the former as a tradition or idea that was once under the sole purview of a particular culture or nation, with the latter representing the transmission of that idea or tradition to other regions of the globe. Furthermore, the image of a “bridge” would seem to imply that the network (i.e., globalization) has enabled the tradition or idea (or anything that was once limited to just one part of the globe for that matter) to now transcend the limitations of language, geography and culture and ultimately gain a sense of universal appeal.

There are probably countless real-life examples of this transmission across cultural boundaries, ranging from fashion products, cuisine, and artistic influences (e.g., the mixing of which often result in new forms of fusion) to political and economic perspectives. But I think the key is the following: rather than think of globalization as a random or mysterious top-down process, we can instead understand globalization through the lens of networks that include Kadushin’s concepts around opinion leaders, tipping points, thresholds, and so on. And the extent to which globalization can occur depends heavily on policies at the local, national, and international levels (e.g., trade and environmental)—what Kadushin would refer to as the “exogenous factors.”

Of course, not everyone will see the idea of networked globalization as being positive or even benign. Manuel Castells, for example, recognizes the network society as representing “a qualitative change in the human experience.” Castells describes society as now consisting of a “meta-network where value is produced, cultural codes are created, and power is decided.” According to Castells, this meta-network is removed from “individuals, activities, and locales around the world.” As Castells puts it, it’s “not that people, locales, or activities disappear…but their structural meaning does.” Though he doesn’t appear to use the word “globalization” in his conclusion, Castells’ description of the impact of a meta-network does mirror criticisms of globalization as undermining the unique aspects of local or indigenous traditions and cultures—from local arts and crafts to languages and ways of thinking. In this way, Castells seems to highlight the challenge of finding meaning in one’s physical place or community amidst the presence of a meta-network that transcends “space and time.”

Ultimately, through their attempt at explaining the intricacies and nuances of networks, I believe that both Kadushin and Castells have presented valuable and insightful ways of understanding globalization and how network theory underpins our ability to conceptualize new forms of cultural and societal fusion.

“From cyberspace to physical place”

The topic I’d like to explore for this week’s blog post is the idea of translating group coordination into the “real” or physical world. The idea piqued my interest as I was reading chapter eight of Networked: The New Social Operating System by Lee Rainie and Barry Wellman—especially a section of the chapter that deals with the “Arab spring” of 2011. To underscore the amount of group coordination that occurred online in the months and period leading up to the revolt, the authors note that the “revolt did not happen overnight, though it may have seemed so for the many people around the world who relied on traditional media for the news.”

As a student of communications, I think this is an interesting statement because it highlights the extent to which the domain of cyberspace and the realities of the physical world have essentially merged or become intertwined. It seems like there was a time not so long ago when popular media often referred to cyberspace as something that was a kind of novelty or alternate existence that was removed from what most of us considered to be real (i.e., the physical world). And while some online initiatives and group activities are still carried out primarily within the context of an online existence (e.g., Wikipedia or the development of new software), it appears as though the world has seen a significant and transformational shift in terms of the potential for translating online activities (namely, group formation) into action that is both visible and impactful in an offline sense.

Of course, group forming social tools are still used in a variety of different contexts—most of which aren’t quite geared towards actions on the scale of the Arab Spring. The case of the Arab Spring is also somewhat unique in the sense that social media allowed citizens to “overcome the fear that comes with living under an oppressive regime” (some commentators have noted that the need to use social media to overcome fear isn’t even a factor in a liberal democracy). Yet, it’s interesting to note and observe the way in which online activity in a place like Egypt wasn’t an end in itself; rather, it was a means for providing a framework and foundation for mobilizing citizens with shared interests and a desire for political freedom. The authors refer to this online phenomenon as a “parallel Egypt,” but I’m tempted to regard it more as a natural extension of the physical Egypt.

Whether it’s a parallel world or an extension of the physical, the power of online collaboration and group formation—as well as the revolutionary implications of blurring the line between the cyber and physical worlds—is evident in how oppressive regimes are now quick to block the use of tools such as Twitter and other social media sites under certain scenarios, with recent events in Venezuela being one such example.

The social networking experience

For this week’s blog entry, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on my experience with social networking to this point in #Comm506 and #MACT2014.

The origins of my social networking activities are rooted within the context of establishing a Personal Learning Network (PLN). This PLN involved identifying and gleaning from thought leaders in a specific area I’m keen on exploring—namely, using communication technologies to help shape public policy. To be fair, I was using social media prior to my PLN exercise that began last May, but my prior social media activities were primarily of a “read-only” kind, rather than a true “read/write” experience. In other words, while I may have been using a tool such as Twitter to follow news items, I wasn’t participating in the actual creation of knowledge artifacts or online networking.

To put it another way, the start of the MACT program meant that my prior focus on simply monitoring and consuming information had to evolve into a more productive approach. A key milestone in this quest occurred last summer when I finalized a “learning artifact” for my PLN. This artifact or “lagniappe” was a wiki called Shaping Public Policy through Social Media. Through my use of tools such as Twitter, Google alerts, Delicious, and other online resources, I essentially compiled and then curated and distilled information for the purpose of making a value-added contribution to those whose expertise has contributed to my knowledge of the topic.

So how does this relate to the current course I’m taking—one that involves a focus on further growing my network and applying theory to firsthand experience? Well, it relates in two key ways.

First, given the origins of my networking activities, my sphere of interest has remained clearly delineated. For example, while I’m now following additional people on Twitter, the bulk of the people I’m following continue to be the thought leaders and experts I had identified during the PLN exercise. This is both a positive and a challenge. On one hand, these existing nodes help serve as a foundation for engaging in further networking activities. Yet, on the other hand, the nature of this foundation is mostly academic and focused on just one area of professional interest, meaning that the challenge is to now expand the networking into other areas of interest—whether professional or personal.

Second, my experience in establishing a wiki stands out because wikis are inherently intended to entail a process of “peer production.” This week’s course readings, particularly a paper by Yochai Benkler, Aaron Shaw and Benjamin Mako Hill, represent ideas that I can reflect on in a somewhat direct way.

Granted, the wiki I created wasn’t really intended to be a collaborative community per se (it was more of an artifact that happened to use a wiki as its platform). Nonetheless, I can appreciate Benkler et al’s analysis related to organization, motivation and quality in peer production. When they state, for example, that the “vast majority of would-be peer production projects fail to attract communities,” I can almost empathize with the challenges to which they’re referring (e.g., I received virtually no uptake after sharing my grand creation on Twitter using the relevant hashtags, albeit with a somewhat vague call to action).

Furthermore, even if I had in fact received requests for new members, I would have then wrestled with the challenge of ensuring quality control, thereby echoing Benkler et al’s statement that we need to “cease taking the high quality of peer produced resources for granted.” Indeed, even to this day, the settings on my wiki ensure that I would need to review and approve any requests for memberships. While Wikipedia’s “open editing model” might allow for “vandalism [to be] detected and removed within minutes or seconds,” my ability to monitor a wiki for the purposes of quality control, let alone more serious infractions, would be limited at best.

Ultimately, I share Benkler et al’s curiosity around further exploring the various factors that account for the success or failure of peer production. For every Wikipedia and Linux, there are countless failed attempts to create a collaborative and engaged online community of contributors. While we can never really expect a set formula for success, even some best practices, or do’s and don’ts, would be a good first step.

Contemplating leadership

One of the most interesting highlights of this week’s readings (namely, chapter six of Charles Kadushin’s Understanding Social Networks) is the notion of leadership and the idea that “initiating interaction is the essence of leadership.” Kadushin centres his definition of leadership around this notion of “initiating interaction” with other members of a network in order to explain social influence within small groups or clusters and the perceived rank afforded to certain individuals in these groups.

While I don’t disagree with Kadushin’s definition of leadership (after all, who would dispute that great leaders are those who are capable of reaching out to diverse individuals and bringing out the best in each), I do wonder if Kadushin’s notion of leadership can be taken further and perhaps even reconciled with the prospect of enabling leadership at all levels of a network—a commitment that is being echoed by many modern organizations, including those in the public sector (a Deloitte report concerning the UK public sector serves as one example).

To elaborate—if we think of leadership as having the potential to exist at all points of a network, rather than simply thinking of it as an isolated and distinct role, I would contend that ideas of scope and spheres of influence come into play (echoing what many leadership coaches tend to focus on). For example, in a modern organization, an employee in any position or area of responsibility inevitably has the ability to exercise leadership within the scope of his or her work. But what varies from one employee to another is the sphere of influence (e.g., while a management role may entail more influence on horizontal coordination across various divisions or branches of an organization, a frontline position may be more focused on direct service delivery to citizens or customers). In this sense, while the entire organization can be seen as a network, each node or employee can and probably should fulfill a leadership function through his or her interactions and decisions.

So why doesn’t Kadushin acknowledge this potential for diffused leadership within networks? Well, for one, it likely requires a more relativistic and flexible definition of leadership which, as we know from previous readings, may conflict with Kadushin’s more absolutist framework for understanding social networks. Second, I’ve probably extrapolated Kadushin’s thinking beyond his original intent in chapter six (a chapter on small groups), so I’m certainly looking forward to seeing if he touches on this line of thinking in subsequent chapters.

As a final note, I should point out that Clay Shirky, in chapter six of Here Comes Everybody, has a slightly different take on the notion of hierarchy (and consequently leadership) in light of today’s communication technologies. Shirky highlights, for example, that the ability of citizens to now coordinate action and organize more easily at a grassroots level (thanks to communication technology) is profoundly challenging hierarchical structures and institutions.

However, this challenge is mostly exerted from outside of institutions, rather than from within an institutional network of employees. So while the connection between Kadushin and Shirky may not seem obvious at first, one could nonetheless surmise that Shirky is highlighting another reason for institutions to continue evolving towards “leadership at all levels” in order to better respond to the changing demands and expectations of their publics.

Alas, this is a blog post, not a research essay, so I’ll end it here.

Reflecting on innovation

This week’s readings and videos have really highlighted the extent to which networks can have an impact on the spread of ideas and behavioural change in almost any area of interest—ranging from economics and religion to health (e.g., obesity) and emotional states (e.g., happiness). I’m intrigued by the way in which network theory really goes beyond just the study of communication; it’s something that should probably be positioned as foundational learning in a wide range of disciplines.

Having said that, the one area I’d like to explore further is the relationship between networks and innovation (in doing so, I’m thinking back to previous professional responsibilities that focused on technology commercialization). On one hand, there can be a tendency to think of innovation (i.e., the successful commercialization of a new product or service that results in economic benefits) as being solely within the realm of entrepreneurial activity and based only on market economics and competition (i.e., the bedrocks of capitalism). Yet, the reality is that there’s also significant room for cooperation that is inherently embedded within the idea of networks. And not just in the global sharing of scientific and basic research through academic journals, but also in the local synergies that can be created among companies that are really close to bringing profitable new products to market (i.e., cases where one would think that intellectual property and secretive business strategies would reign supreme).

For example, the very idea of an innovation incubator, such as the one housed at the University of Alberta’s Enterprise Square (called the TEC Centre) appears to reflect Charles Kadushin’s motivational descriptors of the “safety drive” and the “effectiveness drive.” The TEC Centre is supported by all three orders of government and consists of early-stage companies working to bring their products to market. The safety drive can been seen in the shared equipment, mentoring, and sense of support that entrepreneurs can easily access while working in close proximity to each other. At the same time, the effectiveness drive is reflected through the individual ideas and products that each entrepreneur is preparing for market. And in between the two ends of the spectrum, there exists the potential for one innovation to lead to another (e.g., the development of complementary products or services)—something that would seem even more likely given the density and close proximity of the network.

All of this may seem very obvious to those familiar with the innovation process, but Kadushin’s network theory seems to have important implications for fostering innovation and technology development in any given community or society. One could argue, for example, that enabling innovation is about more than just removing barriers to entrepreneurship (common arguments in favour of reduced taxation and red tape). While those measures no doubt have an important role, there also needs to be support for a network that enables both cohesion (i.e., “access to needed resources”) and a sense of brokerage (e.g., being able to access new markets). In a nutshell, I think Kadushin’s ideas really debunk the notion that innovation can only be realized through competition and companies operating in silos; rather, the importance of cooperation also needs to be acknowledged as a key psychological motivation.