The Importance of MetaData on websites

As Bill Turkel noted in his recent blog post, I've been doing a summer internship, part of which involves making translators for a program called Zotero.

If you're a historian or a history student and you don't know what Zotero is, you should definitely look into it. It allows you to save and collect bibliographical information for just about anything you find on the internet, often with the click of a button.

For example, if you go to a webpage about the United Irishmen, you can use Zotero to save a snapshot of the page (kind of like a bookmark), you can attach notes to it, create tags to help you remember what the page is about, add the author's name, date, publisher...just about whatever you want. You can then export that bibliographic data in proper Chicago/MLA/APA format and save yourself writing it all out.

Some pages are even easier to use. These are pages that Zotero has translators for. On these pages - Amazon.com for example, a little icon will appear in the address bar of the page. If you're looking at the entry for Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, when you click the little icon Zotero automatically saves all the relevant bibliographical information for you. You don't have to type in a thing!
Unfortunately, these translators have to be made one by one. Each and every page on the internet has to have its own translator. Because of this, only the most important historical repositories are currently supported.

You'll find them for websites such as JSTOR, Amazon, even the University of Western Ontario's library page. But there are several important (often Canadian) pages that are not yet working.

How a translator works, is that a JavaScript program is told to check if the webpage you're currently on is one of the webpages that Zotero knows how to find bibliographic data on. This often entails checking the website's address. For example:

If this webpage's address starts with www.canadiana.org then,
I should load the translator for Canadiana.org.

The next part is quite a bit trickier! Zotero is just a program. It doesn't know anything about what it is reading. We have to teach it how to recognize which piece of information on the screen is the title, which tells us the author, etc. And I've noticed two distinct trends: those sites who provide this information in metadata and those who do not.

Metadata, for those who don't know, is helpful, clearly formatted information about your site. Go to any webpage, click on the "View" menu, and select "Page Source." If the website in question has metadata, you'll notice quite near the top several lines of code that read something like this:

This essentially tells us that there are some keywords that you might find helpful in remembering what this website is about. They include "Adam Crymble, history".

We can also tell that the author is "Adam Crymble" and this website was last revised in "spring 2008."

If a webpage contains this data, it makes it MUCH easier for other people to use the data on your page. Zotero can easily be taught to recognize that the words after the meta name=”author” tag should go in the bibliographical field "author." It is also quite easy to tell Zotero that words after the meta name=”keywords” should be separated and made into "tags" which you can then use to organize your work.

However, many...rather, most webpages do not have very good (or any) metadata. In these cases, it requires extensive work to tell Zotero what it is looking at. Rather than simply associating one metatag with one entry in Zotero, the person must analyze your page's HTML code, figure out how your page is structured and write a customized line of code called an XPath that looks something like this:

//div[@id="Content"]/div[@class="NormalRecord"]/table[@class="Bibrec"]/tbody/tr/td[2];

Don't worry, it looks like gobbledigook to me too. Each and every part of data that Zotero wants to collect needs a custom written Xpath like this. This one would find the title of a book in Canadiana.org's repository.

What could have been 3 lines of code had there been Metadata on the page now requires dozens of lines.

None of the three websites I have been working on translators for include metadata. In two of these cases - well known Canadian museums, the websites are almost brand new. They're visually stimulating and engaging. Yet the information is hidden in complex code and confusing paths.

In the 21st century, websites are not merely a static representation of one person's work. Especially those that hold information for others to use, such as libraries, archives and repositories. Designing your webpage to incorporate metadata makes the information you have put out there easier for others to use. It makes people more likely to use it. And it encourages people like those who use Zotero to help your site stand out, with exciting add-ons that are changing the way people do internet research.

Canadian History for Sale!

We all know Canadian history is boring. We live in a new country, where nothing happened until 1914 when the Germans attacked us. Then nothing more until 1939 – Germans again. Naught else worth knowing really.

Nothing man-made worth seeing either. In Vancouver, the only nice old building in town is the Christ Church Cathedral, built way way back in 1895. That’s roughly 2413 years after the Greeks finished the Parthenon. It’s even younger than the Eiffel Tower, the modern addition to the Parisian skyline.

So how are we supposed to compete with the French, who can convince twenty thousand visitors a day to stand in line for three hours to get into the Palace of Versailles? Or what about the Egyptians, who attract throngs of tourists to see the Pyramids despite the travel cautions warning visitors to beware of kidnappers?

How about the same way toy companies convinced us we all needed a Furby, or a Tickle Me Elmo? Make it talk back. Make it make noise and shake when I push its tummy. Make it fun. Sell it to me! This isn’t a case of Canadian history being boring, but a case of Canadian historians not knowing how to sell it.

Historians learn how to analyze, write and present history, but let’s face it, most couldn’t sell a loaf of bread in the midst of a famine – though they might give it away for a donation. Canadian museums and historic sites quite often operate in the red. Too frequently it’s government funding, and your tax dollars keeping these places afloat.

Historians learn how to write grants, not business feasibility studies. They’re taught to write clearly, not passionately. They look for evidence that illustrates their thesis, not that make little boys shout, “Whoa!” and little girls shriek, “Ewwww!”

Happily, this year’s our big chance.

Quebec is 400 this year. And tourist season is just about upon us.

I can only hope that the cheesy reenactments will be out in full force every night – drunken sailors in the pubs, soldiers patrolling the old city and a man with an olde tymey hat and a bell – a loud bell, pointing tourists to the next great historical show.

Not history you say? Too Disnified? Absolutely!

But hey, I don’t remember the last time Walter Disney submitted a grant proposal to the government. And no one has taught me more about pirates than the good people at Disney. It’s a skewed view about pirates, but at least it’s a view. And that's more than most people have of Canadian history.

Quebec 2008 is all about getting our foot in the door with the billion dollar historical tourist market. Because like it or not, tourists don’t want to read journal articles. Most don’t even want to read your text panels. They want to be entertained.

They want to see executions, the changing of the guard and the governor’s wife stumbling around her garden in a drunken stupor. Ok, maybe the executions will have to be dramatized, but you get the idea.

Canada’s a big place. If we can hook them with Quebec, they’ll come back and spend more money; perhaps in a different region of the country. Perhaps even in a local museum. And they’ll tell their friends, who will come too. But, they’ll only come if it’s cool. If it shakes and laughs like Tickle me Elmo, or talks back like Furby.

This isn’t a case of who killed Canadian history? but of who is going to bring it alive?

If we can’t do it this year, it can’t be done. But hey, the government will always be there to bail us out financially, won’t they?

For those who think History should be interesting

Maureen Ogle's recent article in Historically Speaking is an lively tale of someone who saw the light and embraced the life of a 'loser' - erm, popular historian.

Give it a read. Hustler magazine did.

Interested in UWO's Public History MA?

I'm noticing quite a few people coming to this blog via the UWO public history webpage, which leads me to believe they have been receiving/are expecting offers of acceptance to the program for next year and wondering what it will be like.

Please feel free to email me at acrymble [at] uwo.ca if you have any questions about the program. I'm not on staff so I can tell you the truth. And I'm sure most of the other students in the program would be happy to answer questions as well.

Jstor, meet Kindle: Simulated Page-Turning

I've essentially gone paperless over the past year. No longer do I print off articles to read; especially if they're available on the internet.

However, I've always hated the way most websites with articles on them are set up - especially sites that scan in images of journal articles or old books such as Jstor or Early English Books Online. More often then not, users are forced to click a tiny little "next" button at the bottom of the page. Call me fussy, but the 1/18th of a second it takes me to move my mouse to that itsy bitsy button makes me hate using these sites. It's even worse when the next page loads and to find the button, I have to scroll my screen down. Set-ups like that just reinforce the complaints of the book-lovers who would rather trudge into the library and use a hard-copy than use the online databases.

Amazon's new electronic book-reader, Kindle came up with a rather novel way of dealing with the fact that most readers like to quickly turn the page, rather than click a little button. The Kindle has two large buttons that run the length of the 'page'. The one on the left, predictably takes the reader to the previous page, the one on the right goes to the next page. Not only are the buttons placed where the readers thumb will likely anyways be - to avoid any effort on the reader's part at all - but they're the best way I've yet seen of a simulated page turn using an electronic device.

Apparently, the people at Jstor took notice. The scrawny little next buttons and clumsy navigation are gone and instead, large Kindle-like buttons appear on every page. They're the tan-coloured bands in the image. Rather than having to scroll around looking for the button, I can see it no matter where I am. Sure, the change probably hasn't saved me that much time - in fact, they've so far cost me the time it's taken to write this post - but they've made the interface that much more user-friendly.

I'm sure in a few years everyone will be on board and this style of navigation will be the norm. But for now, it's a nice step in the right direction.

Stonehenge Videos

Here are the two videos I created for our class digital history project.

Originally, Stonehenge was aligned with the Summer and Winter solstices. On the summer solstice at sunset, someone standing at the central "altar stone" would see the sun rise and appear to float between two "slaughter stones" 80m from the centre of the circle. (The names "altar" and "slaughter" are modern tags and don't represent the stones' actual purpose).

On the winter solstice at sunset, a person standing at the central "altar stone" would see the sun set on the opposite side of the monument. The result is a dramatic display of shadows.

This sunrise and sunset are the only two of the year in which the shadows line up in this fashion. Contrary to what you may have been told, the sun does not merely rise in the east and set in the west. It moves throughout the year. And the builders of Stonehenge were able to capture that.

The videos were created using "Bryce 3D".

These stills show the shadows formed.

Deliberately Writing to Future Historians

Dear Future Historians and English Professors,

I am writing to make your job easier. I know how difficult and frustrating it can be to figure out what people in the past may have been doing or thinking, so I present you with this letter that imparts all the facts (free of bias) about the history of Harry Potter’s readership.

As I’m sure you already know, Harry Potter was the most famous protagonist of the early 21^st century. His author, J.K. Rowling, went from rags to riches from the enormous success of the series; children and adults around the world read of Harry’s adventures. But what you may not know is who didn’t read Harry Potter, and why they refused to join in Harry’s magical world.

There are three kinds of people in the twenty-first century that have not read Harry Potter. The Cannot’s, the Must Not’s and the Will Not’s.

The Cannot’s are people too poor, too busy earning a living, illiterate, or unable to read one of the many languages into which Harry Potter has been translated. This group is large and is spread across the world. The absence of Harry Potter in their lives comes of necessity and nothing ill can be spoken of them. The latest estimate is that 4.5 billion people fall into this category.

The Must Not’s are people who are able to read Harry Potter, but choose not to on moral grounds. These people are often – but are not exclusively – Evangelical Christians. They believe witches and wizards are evil and homosexuality immoral; consequently these people choose not to read the books. If you would like to see the passion with which these people reject the series, please see the documentary Jesus Camp. Because I – being an unbiased presenter of plain facts – believe people are entitled to their freedom of religion, I will speak no ill of their decision not to read the books. At this time approximately 300 million people are Must Not’s.

The Will Not’s are people who have the time and money to read the books, have no moral objection, but choose not to read the series because they think this decision makes them unique. They love to tell you how proud they are that they have never read the books. How childish it is to read books targeted at adolescents. And how much they hate what they have never experienced. These people – factually speaking – are unhappy with their lives. Their refusal to read Harry Potter is a cry for help. What they’re really saying is, I want to read them. I want to join the club of fans, but I’m afraid it will rob me of the only thing that makes me unique. The Will Not group is quickly diminishing as they break down, one by one, relinquishing themselves to the wonder and magic of the Harry Potter series. By the time of your reading this note, far off in the future, the Will Not’s will almost certainly not exist. At last count, there were 47 of these people.

You now understand all there is to know – just the facts – about the readership of the Harry Potter series. I hope this letter has helped you in your endeavour to understand what we of the early twenty-first century were like.

Respectfully yours,

Adam Crymble

P.S. Historians write of the past in the hopes that people in the present will understand.

Journalists write of the present in the hopes that people in the present will understand.

Who writes to the people of the future? Ridiculous content aside, can we talk to future historians? Or will we just be considered another source amongst a sea of sources? Is there a difference between a contemporary account (such as a newspaper article), written for contemporaries, and an account specifically generated to explain ourselves to people not yet born?

And more importantly, have YOU read Harry Potter yet? You don’t want the next generation of historians to categorize you as a “Will Not.” I’ve just seen to it that the future will see these people in a negative light.