I remember a class I took in the first year of my Media and Communication degree at QUT. It was mostly about industry jargon; we learnt a lot of words that I’d never heard before, most of which I assumed I’d never need, hear or use again. I was, of course, completely wrong. The word ‘intangible’ was the first one that formed a significant part of our assessment for the subject, and perhaps that’s the reason it was the one that stuck the most solidly in my head. I think, however, that it was more likely the concept itself that interested me. An intangible object is, of course, one that does not exist physically- one cannot touch or feel it. The idea of this concept in the context of media and communications was the development of information and assets that exist solely online. The information does not exist in a physical form; it is just ‘there.’ I’ll admit that I waited the entirety of the rest of the semester for the discussion of the tangible application of my chosen [future] career path, but it just never came. To me, the discussion of an intangible product with no tangible application seemed pointless.
As my course went on, discussion continued to centre around the intangible. ‘Creation’ was a concept that applied only to knowledge. Practical application of the concepts and knowledge learnt in the previous three years meant acquiring more knowledge, about companies existing in the Brisbane media industry, and compiling this on a website. Again, the website was simply used as a portal to find information about such topics. Still, nothing tangible. By this point in time, however, I had forgotten my earlier curiosity at this recurring phenomenon.
To me, the concept of ‘produsage’ seems largely theoretical. In theory, it is undeniably beneficial to have consumers play a hand in the media that they consume. The possibility for expansion of a global knowledge is increased massively, proportionate to the scale of informed contributors. But what does all of this mean for society? HOW is this knowledge useful, if there is no application for it in the ‘real world.’ Bruns argues that this shared scope of knowledge can be of use in practical fields such as construction. A designer somewhere comes up with a model for a car or a bridge, and a mechanic or an engineer on the other side of the world puts it together. This takes away the costs of bringing the top professionals from their respective fields physically together, and allows for superior products to be assembled at a fraction of the price such a product would have previously cost. Again, in theory, this idea is fantastic. However, it proves to be pretty impractical.
A good friend of mine is currently completing her final thesis in a civil engineering degree. It stands to reason that, while at university, this would be the time that she would be exposed to concepts such as the one outlined above. However she has never heard of such practice, and was wary when I asked what she thought of it. The safety implications alone would be astounding. It stands to reason that safe construction would be difficult to achieve without the designer, who would have had to have think of risks in the design process, overseeing the construction phase first-hand.
