Being with Data. Nathaniel Tkacz
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Being with Data - Nathaniel Tkacz страница 5

Название: Being with Data

Автор: Nathaniel Tkacz

Издательство: John Wiley & Sons Limited

Жанр: Кинематограф, театр

Серия:

isbn: 9781509545339

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ make no guarantee that a site will remain live or that the content is or will remain appropriate.

      Every effort has been made to trace all copyright holders, but if any have been overlooked the publisher will be pleased to include any necessary credits in any subsequent reprint or edition.

      For further information on Polity, visit our website:

      politybooks.com

      This book began as a conversation with my former colleague Will Davies. It became something more through a project we schemed up together, ‘Interrogating the Dashboard: Data, Indicators and Decision-Making’, which received financial support from the Economic Social Research Council (ESRC) in the UK (ES/M00077X/1). I would like to thank Will, Ana Gross, Jamie Bartlett and Carl Miller from DEMOS and the Open Work design team (Kai, Lizzie and Dan) for being part of this project. Through Jamie and Carl, I was able to develop a relationship with people from the software company Qlik and I would like to thank everyone there for offering their time and thoughts. I would especially like to thank David Bolton, who arranged access to key personnel and clients.

      For inviting me to share work in progress, I would like to thank Louise Amoore, Rob Kitchin, Richard Rogers, Jonathan Gray, Helen Kennedy, Robert Cowley, Scott McQuire and Theo Röhle. I am also grateful to the Digital Humanities Department at King’s College London and the Getulio Vargas Foundation in São Paulo for hosting me as Visiting Senior Research Fellow and Visiting Professor, respectively. Thanks in addition to the staff at the Coventry Transport Museum.

      I am fortunate to have excellent and inspiring colleagues in CIM at the University of Warwick, but special thanks go to Nerea Calvillo and Maria Puig de la Bellacasa for being my writing companions. Celia Lury read the first draft and provided very insightful feedback. Since we first met as PhD students in Melbourne, Michael Dieter has been a constant friend and intellectual inspiration.

      I would like to thank the anonymous reviewers at Polity for their feedback. The editorial team of Mary Savigar and Stephanie Homer were a pleasure to work with, and thanks to Mary for reading the manuscript with an editor’s eye.

      Since 2012, I have made a home in the English West Midlands, 10,000 miles from where I was raised on the outskirts of Melbourne, Australia. This life would not be possible without the love and ongoing support of my partner, Mia. Thanks also to Ernie, Lena and Dominic for reminding me that working in front of a computer all day can be very boring.

       Being with Data

      I hold my arm up to the sky and let my wrist flop so an apex forms at the joint. The face of the watch attached to this wrist is now pointing to the heavens, as elevated as can be practically achieved. I keep the arm dead still. It has just passed 9 a.m. on a cloudy summer’s morning in the English Midlands and the Coventry 5-km parkrun is about to begin. Similar runs like this – parkruns – are taking place all over the UK and indeed many other countries. I am in a crowd of scantily clothed bodies; a small sea of limbs and brightly coloured apparel; hats, sunglasses, headphones and other elements of a runner’s uniform. Around me are a mix of seasoned runners and younger upstarts. Many are fidgeting with different devices. Pushing buttons, swiping, tapping or adjusting headphones while bouncing on toes or stretching out limbs in anticipation of the start. I have no idea if holding my arm up to the skies actually helps, but I’ve seen others do it and the race is about to start. I’m trying to activate the GPS on my smart watch, which has been playing up. It is not fond of cloudy days. Without the GPS activated, this watch that I’ve come to rely on for my Saturday morning run is useless.

      As far as running strategies go, mine is the worst. It’s basically an anti-strategy; precisely what you’re not supposed to do. I go out fast, taking full advantage of the brief period before fatigue sets in and my breathing shortens, and much faster than I can possibly hold for any length of time. I never look at my watch for the first kilometre. At the 1-km mark I feel a buzz on my wrist. I know roughly when and where it’s coming because I’ve been doing this race most Saturday mornings for the summer. The buzz comes just past a bend at the far side of the park. I glance at the watch dashboard interface: first kilometre pace: 3:40 min/km. There’s no way I can keep this up, and I never do. This first kilometre gives me the initial thrill of running with the race leaders and stops me from getting caught up in the sea of runners, but it usually means I spend the last few k’s gradually overtaken by those able to maintain a steadier pace. My heart rate is already high, well into the 170s (beats per minute). Software on my phone will tell me later that I’m already in ‘Zone 5’, the highest of its Heart Rate Zones. In total, my heart will spend 96 per cent of the race in this zone. The remaining 4 per cent, spread across the other zones, occurs right at the start of the race. I fleetingly pass through each one in the time it takes my heart to catch up to the rest of my body.