Three weeks and three papers, and I would get three credits. It sounded looked fairly straightforward. It was my first time taking a summer class and it sounded easy enough. How hard could it be to write about plants? As it turned out, it was pretty hard. The ten-page report on stevia was turning out to be more difficult than I had imagined. The problem was not simply that most people have never even heard of stevia, but rather that the information I was expected to discuss was nowhere to be found. Not only was I researching an little-known plant, but the specific details that I was looking for were beyond obscure. For example: “Describe the perianth structure of stevia.” I couldn’t find the androecium structure of any plant, let alone one that, unless on the topic of sweeteners, goes largely unnoticed. Textbooks were no help. I tried searching Google for every imaginable keyword, but I was getting very few results.
Finally, I decided to get a bit more scientific with my searches. Instead of typing in “stevia,” I searched for its genus and species names. This time, I saw some promising hits. I followed up on them and traced their sources. One of the links was a governmental report on stevia. Another link led me to PubMed, where I lost the article source but was able to trace it through PubMed’s search tools. In both cases, the material I found was extremely technical. It was filled with jargon that I had never heard of. I found myself copying and pasting every other word into Dictionary.com, only to get an equally obscure definition. I began searching each word that I did not understand on either Google, Wikipedia, Dictionary.com, and sometimes all three. I had to figure out not only what the gibberish meant in its actual definition, but also how it fit back into the article and related to stevia. Most websites I had to read were full of words I had never heard of. There was no easy way to interpret the articles or the definitions I found for the articles’ vocabulary. I spent hours deciphering everything. I had to teach myself the intricacies of plant anatomy and physiology. I learned more about stevia’s structure than what is known by botanist. After hours of painstaking work, I was finally able to decode the two articles I found.
From this research experience, I found that the “massive collective brain” was largely unhelpful. I had to turn to technical websites that were designed for very specialized fields. For specific information, it seems like Google and even Wikipedia are not useful. It takes a lot of time and hard work not only to uncover, but also to understand information when it gets to be more detailed. My search had been unproductive until I thought to search for the information using more technical terms. It was then that my investigation hit a turning point and I was finally allowed into the inner sanctuary of scientific research.
Research Frenzy
I have to say, as a teacher, that I loved this story. Why? Because what happened here is that–far from the internet being the “easy way out”–the internet actually forced you to learn more, to look with more depth and precision, and to really make judgments about quality of information.
You got confronted with language you didn’t know, with material that was specialized and scientific, and (although it sounds like it was a bit annoying), you took the extra step (or steps) to learn how to understand that material.
That inner sanctuary is not something you get to see if you just skim the surface, but I do believe that even if it’s annoying to get there, it’s worth it.
(And now I’m off to try to find out what stevia is!)