Composing on Computer: Discovering the Stakes of Compu-Writing

The readings for this week, grouped under the heading Computers and Writing, begin to discover the possibilities and limitations for composition done through emerging technologies. While some scholars see great potential in the methods of teaching and composition possible through the advent of the computer, others debate some very poignant warnings (perhaps evolutions of the same warnings scholars have always given toward writing) that computer-based and processed writing still engender language and embed fierce power struggles that may be overlooked at first glance. Still, computer writing appears to be here to stay and a few powerful programs have certainly overtaken our composition processes (McGee and Ericsson note that it is estimated about 80%-90% of word processing is done on Microsoft Word). As such, it is an important subfield of study and certainly worth more and deeper investigation.

Patricia Sullivan opens the week as our earliest featured scholar, which is perhaps not saying much since she publishes in 1991. Arguing that new developments in page-layout manipulations in word processing platforms have given great (and perhaps foreign) power to writers, Sullivan diagrams the ways in which computer writing has blurred the process method. The writer (notice the careful word choice here: writer, not author) traditionally has submitted text to a publisher and then with careful critique and revision, the publisher prints the final form of the text for the reader. Sullivan argues that with the implementation of word processing programs, the writer can manipulate text as traditionally only could a publisher. As such, the drafting process becomes obscured as writer now has more control over their text before submission to readers. Interestingly, I believe Sullivan’s argument could even be taken a step further. Perhaps the drafting process does become obscured through computer-based word processing, but if we see computer-based writing in its most organic form—hypertext—we can begin to see that computer-based writing also obscures the roles and identities of writer/reader. Who really is the writer of the text of a wiki? How do we define the writer of a blog comment, as reader or as writer? I didn’t read any of the optional articles on internet plagiarism by Purdy or Howard, but I suspect that they might also tend toward viewing hypertext composition (especially with the theories of Web 2.0) as a collaborative effort on behalf of writer and reader instead of the more traditional composing processes as described (and antiquated) by Sullivan.

Harris and Wambeam being to this week’s reading perhaps the most encouraging article for computer-based writing. Their work, “The Internet-Based Composition Classroom: A Study in Pedagogy,” describes and expounds upon a “pedagogical experiment” conducted in the spring semester of 2004. Working with complimentary syllabi, these two professors set out to test if teaching composition through an internet-based classroom would be more effective than not. Utilizing multiple cutting-edge, yet accessible and what sounds like pretty inexpensive, resources like MOO, the classes found some startling results. From a purely statistical standpoint, students in the internet-enriched classroom became significantly better writers from the start to the end of the semester while student in the controlled non-enriched classroom actually became marginally worse writers. Furthermore, students in the control significantly disagreed with the statement “I enjoy writing” by the end of the semester while students in the enriched classroom significantly agreed. Despite proving that students actually perform better in the enriched classroom, Harris and Wambeam make a compelling argument that the enriched classroom also creates students who are enthusiastic about writing.

McGee and Ericsson take a startling shift in tone from that of Harris and Wambeam. Their study on Microsoft and the development of its grammar checker (MSGC) open a whole new area of study but most importantly reveals hidden power struggles latent within computer-based composition. I immediately connected with this article because I have often thought—as I’m sure we all have—of the ineffectiveness of MSGC. It is startling that in comparison to the hundred of thousands of English teachers who teach grammar, MSGC influences tens of millions. It is depressing that so many of those who use MSGC cannot ignore shoddy suggestions and actually (as my little brother has) take its word over that of their teacher’s.

But I have to shed some positive light on this article (just as Mueller does with the digital underworld) and take us back to Sullivan. Yes, we are (as McGee and Ericsson claim) entrenched in MSGC and can never get around it as long as we compose on the computer; however, just as Sullivan urges the contemporary writer to become part publisher, I urge today’s writer to become part programmer. MSGC has an amazing feature within its settings that actually allows users to program suggestions into its algorithm. What this means is that we can manipulate what MSGC constantly monitors. I first discovered this when I took advanced composition as an undergraduate in a computer-enriched classroom. Someone has actually programmed MSGC as a monitor for sexist language. Every time I wrote “he,” a squiggly green line appeared and prompted me to change to “he or she.” So, yes, I must agree with Harris and Wambeam that MSGC does favor some and marginalize others, but the program is easily manipulated and must also be seen for its ability to aid a writer in monitoring any number of errors for which he (or she) wishes to watch.

Finally, and quickly since I already seem to be rambling, I chose to read Diehl, Grabill, and Hart-Davidson’s “Grassroots.” A compelling illustration of the social use of computer-based composition, these scholars recount the efforts of a program entitled Grassroots which is described as an “asset-based mapping tool” and its contribution to the conversation on knowledge work, analytical thinking requiring abstract reasoning. Essentially, I see this article as an example of how the Web 2.0 movement has obfuscated lines between writer and reader and created web programmers as “producers” of text in a more theatrical context—they are those who allow for text to be created but do not necessarily act as either reader or writer. It’s an incredibly thought-provoking article, but in its impact further proves that there is still so much more we can learn from the study of writing with computers.