Jargon Problems
Several months ago, a physician affiliated with our hospital asked me to come to his office for a tutorial on Microsoft Excel.
David: …and the place where a row and a column intersect is called a “cell.”
Physician: I’m not going to remember “cell.” I’m going to call it a “box.”
David: I really think you need to call it a “cell.”
Physician: Why can’t I call it whatever I want?
David: Well, imagine you’re a pre-med student, and in class you’re discussing the duodenum. You decide that you won’t remember “duodenum,” and decide to call it a “flibbertygibbit.” What’s wrong with that?
Physician: If I don’t know what other people call it, I can’t look up anything about it in the medical literature or ask a colleague about it.
David: Exactly. We need to know the correct terms because knowing them will help us or help others solve our problems. Without the correct terms, we’re nearly helpless.
So the physician understood that I wasn’t being a stickler for the terms because I’m a geek, but because the knowledge of the term was essential to his successful use of the technology.
A couple of things recently have made me think back on this conversation. One was this item from BBC news:
According to research from Nielsen/NetRatings, people are buying cutting-edge technology but often don’t understand the terms that describe what their device actually does.
(…snip…)
“In the relentless quest for the next big thing when it comes to new forms of digital consumption, there is a significant tendency for the industry to over-estimate consumer’s knowledge and understanding of the seemingly limitless new terms and products out there,” said Alex Burmaster, internet analyst with Nielsen/NetRatings.
(…snip…)
“There is a certain level of knowledge snobbery in so far as if you talk in acronyms you sound like you really know what you are talking about and if others don’t understand then they are seen in some way as inferior…”
The other reason I’ve been thinking about this is an assignment for the class I’m in right now on reference librarianship that required that I attempt to define the “essence” of dictionaries. After thinking on this for some time, I remembered something Neil Postman wrote in Conscientious Objections: Stirring Up Trouble About Language, Technology and Education:
History is not events that once occurred; it is language describing and interpreting events. And astronomy is not planets and stars but a specialized way of talking about planets and stars.
And so a student must know the language of a subject, but that is only the beginning.
I reasoned, then, that if a dictionary is primarily descriptive, its essence perhaps is in being the foundation by which all the rest of literature can be made accessible. An astronomy dictionary allows a reader to access the rest of astronomy literature, and a medical dictionary allows access to the world of medical literature.
I think that too often, those of us charged with teaching the use of technology in a professional (non-academic) setting fail give students the “dictionary” for the subject, and this prevents their continuing to learn after class is dismissed. Too often, we teach the procedural methods to accomplish particular tasks, or define terms that serve only as labels. We don’t give those labels meaning, explain their value, or place the procedural description in a useful context.
We know that clinicians seem slow to adopt new technologies, and we know that there may be no other profession where the adoption of information technologies has such great potential for creating important positive change in people’s lives. Medical librarians know how vital EBM/EBP and clinician use of library resources is to the quality of patient care, but perhaps medical libararies need to do a lot more than try to teach clinicians how and why to use these resources.
I tend to think that medical libraries need to take the role of intermediaries between clinicians and technology. This should mean not just teaching clinicians how to use information tools, not just teaching clinicians how to use computers more generally, but constantly developing more effective ways to help clinicians grasp the ideas and the concepts behind the tools. Medical libraries need to be the “dictionary” for use of technology in hospitals. We need to put teaching before almost every other priority, and discipline ourselves rigorously in our teaching methods so as to never condescend or presume the clinicians’ computer literacy (or lack thereof).
A friend of mine has suggested that in our economic system, some kinds of experts retain their economic value by keeping their specialized knowledge out of reach. He even suggested that this is one reason why some academics sometimes use needlessly complex language. If this is true, the economic value of librarians can be enhanced and proven in doing the opposite; by demystifying technology, by defining terms and concepts clearly, and by working to place it in everyone’s reach.
I know I’m preaching to the choir on this point, but the point isn’t repeated often enough. Medical libraries need to be centers of technology and of technology education.
This concludes today’s semi-coherent rant.
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October 11th, 2006 at 9:21 pm
[...] davidrothman.net » Blog Archive » Jargon Problems Excellent post de David Rothman (Mr RSS dans les bibliothèques médicales des USA) et je partage complètement son avis : “Medical libraries need to be the “dictionary” for use of technology in hospitals” (tags: technology medecine health informationliteracy informatique enseignement librarian library bibliothèques dictionnaire) [...]