Reflecting on Tara Brabazon’s Digital Dieting from an FE practitioner’s standpoint
As I won this book in a raffle at the M25 Information Literacy Conference held at the British Library in January, I feel it appropriate to reflect on it from an information literacy perspective.
 Sometimes a book has a profound book on you. Sometimes you simply can’t put a book down. This is one of those books. And yes, it is about higher education and the literacies involved in delivering it and taught within it. I approached this book with some caution, concerned that it would simply be a badly considered rehash of the old moral panic arguments about the condition of young people, displacing Mod culture for technological omnipresence.
 Yet Brabazon is far more intelligent and progressive than that. Her passion for her students, academic study and knowledge creation shines through. This is a book written from the heart by the head. Her style is warm, funny and engaging. The audience is treated as an equal and colleague; it is not a lecture but a discussion. She is direct and to the point. At times abrasive, Brabazon is unafraid of saying it how she sees it, without caveat or mitigation.
 Digital Dieting completes her trilogy of works, following up from Digital Hemlock which focused on the dangers of managerialism in higher education and the University of Google which took aim at the growing culture of searching rather than researching. She summarises both neatly as processes which are affecting the quality of education in the HE sector. Core to her concerns is the way in which librarians and the skills they offer are being pushed aside by cost cutting managers using technology as a proxy for genuine teaching and learning.
 But Brabazon is no technophobe. This is not the analysis of a teacher running scared of overwhelming technological change they can’t work out how to manage. Indeed, Brabazon appears to be an early adopter of technological innovation and keen to harness the benefits of it for her students. She states that “Digital or analogue materials is not the problem. Quality is the concern” (Brabazon 2013: 47).
 This feeds into the titular extended metaphor around food: Brabazon does not really push the argument that we need to consume less information as much as she argues that what we need to consume is more of the good stuff. Fewer YouTube videos about cats, more peer reviewed journals. Fewer cheeseburgers, more carrots so to speak. So it is far more a case of quality over quantity. She describes us as suffering from “binge searching, media gluttony and information obesity” where cheap poor quality information is widely available, just as cheap poor quality food is (ibid: 51). And of course the number of information choices we make each day has skyrocketed, in a similar way to our food choices. I promise to drop the extended metaphor now; it becomes tired very quickly. I do wish Brabazon hadn’t laboured it quite so much in the early chapters of the book: thankfully it disappears for much of the middle and end.
 Brabazon’s plea for information literacy is framed in this context of information overload. Google is a tool for seeking information; without the skills to know how to use the tool, it is as good as useless. After all “we cannot put a word into Google that we do not know” (ibid: 47) even if it does have a “friendly box” (ibid: 54). This is illustrated nicely by searching Google for simply “post colonialism” which returns generic non-academic results. Alternatively searching for “post colonialism” and “Etienne Balibar” produces much better results for academic study. This requires skills however, skills we are not “born” with (ibid: 55).
 This connects neatly to the Digital Natives concept crystallised by Marc Prensky and later in the book, Brabazon demolishes the argument that those born in a digital era behave differently in terms of information seeking and research than others or possess different skills. To Brabazon the digital natives vs digital immigrants distinction uses the metaphor of migration to denigrate those not “born digital” but as she notes, immigrants have knowledge of two cultures.
 This point aside, my reading of Prensky was slightly different if not equally critical. The broader issue implied by Prensky’s metaphor, if not identified by Prensky himself, is that immigrants learn discretely what natives supposedly learn tacitly (Prensky 2001). The UK Citizenship test is a wonderful example of this. Immigrants must learn the mores, to borrow from de Tocqueville, of life in the UK. This will include laws, customs and if we were talking about the UK as a company, the ethos. Most British natives wouldn’t know some of the core content. Skills, knowledge and understanding are not absorbed via osmosis. They have to be taught and learnt in some fashion. Grammar is a great example.
 I do agree with Brabazon though that there is not some yawning generational divide and that competencies do not align with age. It is also dangerous to assume young people naturally know how to use technology effectively. In my experience, they are not as skilled as they think they are. Especially not in terms of using technology for educational purposes. Playing Angry Birds on your Smartphone is not the same as creating a portfolio or finding peer reviewed journals. It is important to remember that “Digital literacies and information literacies do not go hand in hand” (Brabazon 2013: 195). Moreover, the digital skills young people are learning can be very basic. As Mark Bauerlein argues “their technology skills fall well short of the common claim, too, especially when they must apply them to research and workplace tasks” (Bauerlein 2014: 9).
 Digital literacy is not a substitute for information literacy. Especially as digital technology both proliferates the information available and in many cases increases access to it. The increasingly prevalent assumption that libraries are no longer needed because everything is online and that “access is synonymous with literacy” is patently incorrect (Brabazon 2013: 312). Vincent Tito’s maxim that “Access without support is not opportunity” looms large (Tito 2008). Even in the social world, the app market is burgeoning with apps designed to control and mediate information about leisure time through reviews, spatial data and personalised content. This is information literacy for planning your spare time rather than your studies (ibid).
 So who does Brabazon hold responsible? The answer (I think) is supposed to be social media but she takes aim at so many different contributors to the decline of scholarly standards that it becomes hard to fully categorise the threads of her argument. Administrators from non-academic backgrounds making academic decisions based on cost cutting and what’s new, rather than what’s useful. Greedy corporations tempting us with new, purposely useless products that are obsolescent from the moment they are launched. Sloppy teaching which depends on PowerPoint, teaches to the textbook and sets weak assignments that do not help students build higher level skills. So far so predictable.
 But there are some surprises. Student-centred learning takes a direct hit for devaluing teaching as the progressive educationalist aligns with the neo-liberal cost cutter. The idea that trying to use different media and appeal to different learning styles is flawed according to Brabazon. She eloquently and enthusiastically discusses the value of sonic media in education but advocates a one-size-fits-all or all-should-fit-into-one-size approach to learning which I find difficult to agree with. Her mantra that “fewer media creates more meaning” needs to be questioned as closely as the assumption that more media creates more meaning (ibid: 68). Content is key, as Brabazon argues throughout, but form can make the content wholly inaccessible, regardless of how amazing the content is. Brabazon’s argument becomes a little tangled here as she does regularly acknowledge the importance of form, whilst at the same time decrying any focus on form. Yet she also discusses the importance of scaffolding students to enable their learning.
 For Brabazon, learning occurs when students “miss, stumble” and then succeed (ibid: 275) because they are forced by barriers to slow down the “encounter between concept and interpretation” and construct “new pathways of thinking (ibid: 206). The problem I have with this is that I work with largely vocational FE and my students regularly miss, stumble and ultimately fall. They have a whole life narrative which they often categorise as fails. My students have one shot at getting the qualifications they need to secure some kind of future for themselves and failure makes them quit. They never get to taste success. The “lads” depicted in Willis’ Learning to Labour, which Brabazon discusses at length in one chapter, did not respond well to failure and the same goes for my students today (Willis 1997). Indeed, I wonder if Brabazon realised the irony of discussing working lads getting working class jobs in a book which at times feels it is advocating exactly the type of teaching and attitudes which provoked their symbolic resistance and virtual exclusion from education.
 Of course we all want to “move learners beyond their personal experience” (Brabazon 2013: 203) and share concerns around the infiltration of every aspect of our students’ lives by social media. We all know the horror stories and how Twitter, Facebook and Ask.fm have been implicated in various controversies. As tools and platforms they have the potential to be misused. They can be put to good use for educational purposes: Brabazon sets tasks such as explain an academic principle in 140 characters. But Brabazon does have a habit of conflating symptoms with cause. The massive non-stop demands being placed on academics through student contact on social media was not caused by the advent of Facebook. It is the result of the commercialisation of higher education. When I went to university in an era of modest fees compared to today, I remember camping out in a specific library (we had many) because I knew it was frequented by a supervisor of mine from whom I needed support. I almost jumped on her when she did arrive, much to her chagrin. The immortal lines “I don’t sit around watching Trisha all day you know” were hastily snapped at me, all without the use of Facebook or email.
 And speaking of Trisha, Brabazon attacks a culture of oversharing that she blames social media for. Again, I don’t think Twitter or Facebook encourage a new culture of oversharing. We have been oversharing for decades. Ever since the 1960s, the sexual revolution and the decline of 1950s nostalgia for a Victorian England of stiff upper lips that never existed, sharing and oversharing has become the norm. Indeed, the sexual abuse controversies of the past highlight the need for what some would have termed oversharing. Schools and workplaces have always been hotbeds of gossip, rumour and intrigue. Twitter just broadcasts it further afield and preserves it for antiquity. Trisha, Jeremy Kyle, Oprah, Ricki Lake, Esther and Kilroy all pre-date Facebook. Radio phone ins, agony aunt columns and reality television all pre-date Facebook. Again, Facebook is a tool of and some of its features probably a consequence of this culture, not its originator.
 Brabazon argues that “reducing the dependency on the crack pipe of social networking, higher quality information becomes the foundation of the intellectual diet” (ibid: 65). Does it? Really? I’m not convinced and Brabazon seems to expect us to take her word for it on this one. I accept the logical causality of Google contributing to information illiterate young people. The link between increased usage of social media and a decline in information literacy I’m less sure about.
 Whilst at one point prescribing the correct cure (that assessment needs to embed information literacy and assignments needs to be set in a way that prevents plagiarism) Brabazon misses the point about why we reach this impasse. Brabazon believes that students use Goole because it is easy. That Google stops them “becoming frozen and overwhelmed” (ibid: 62). This is the very effect I see Google searches having on my students every day. They don’t pick Google because it’s easy, they pick Google because they think it is easy. In reality, Google is much harder work. It requires more skills to navigate and find quality content, not fewer. I rigidly swerved using internet search engines as a student because it was much simpler to go to the library or use a repository like Jstor than work out if random internet sources were academically sound or not. I want my students to work smarter, not harder. In an “ideas-thick” not ideas rich environment (ibid: 117), inculcating a respect for quality sources is critical, as is developing the tools for seeking them.
 As someone working in FE with learning resources, with a keen interest in promoting information literacy, I can agree with much of what Brabazon argues. Despite my misgivings about some of her causal links and her patrician-teacher air, Brabazon provides a deep resource in thinking about the appropriate use of digital tools in education and provides some compelling arguments for re-thinking our approach.
Bauerlein, M. (2014) The Dumbest Generation: How the digital age Stupefies Young Americans and Jeopardises our future. London: Penguin.
Brabazon, T. (2013) Digital Dieting: from Information Obesity to Intellectual Fitness. Ashgate.
Willis, P. (1977) Learning to Labour: How Working Class Kids Get Working Class Jobs. Columbia University Press.
Prensky, M. (2001) “Digital Natives, Digital Immigrants” in On the Horizon, vol 9 no. 5.
Tinto, V. (2008) Access without support is not opportunity. Available at http://www.insidehighered.com/views/2008/06/09/tinto [Accessed on 14th March 2014].Â