Socialism At The Gilbane Conference … Or Embracing Containerization

First, I should say, I know nothing about the Gilbane Conference on Content Management. I think it�s once a year. I�m pretty sure it has a bunch of technical communication professionals all sharing ideas, and a guy name Frank Gilbane started it. But this story is not about that. It�s about something else.

I wear more than one hat at my company, and part of my job is to help the president get the message out about what we do. One way to get the message out is by exhibiting and networking at trade shows. So, I recently spent the better part of two months researching the purchase of my company�s first professional display booth. I talked to vendors, artists, and other companies who have purchased them. I had meetings, compared prices, worked with my employers to develop a solid brand identity, and helped come up with a display design that said as much about us as possible�in 10 words or less. And we came up with a pretty good one at a good price that we think we can live with for several years. One that might even impress potential clients.

Then I find out that, included with your registration fee at the Gilbane conference, exhibitors�no matter how large or small, how much money they have to blow or how tight the budget, whether you�re Microsoft or a struggling freelancer�all get a 4 X 4 foot area (or maybe two 4 X 4 foot areas) with a table and a header that displays your logo.

The playing field had been leveled

Compare that to the 4000 bucks for a basic 10 X 10 foot area a the National Manufacturing Week 2006 Conference, and the roughly 5600 square foot pavilion Microsoft had at that show. The Gilbane idea starts to seem like a good idea. But is it really? Should we all be confined to our sameness, pigeonholed into little containers that strip away our uniqueness and creativity?

We�ve all seen this happening more and more in the technical communication world. From templates, to structured documents, to information architecture, there is a growing need for making containers to put information in. And plenty of my colleagues are being dragged into the world of containers and databases kicking and screaming. Though many won�t admit it, we all feel a little nervous for some reason. I can sympathize, really, and we should admit it.

As someone who has worked in the chaos of content mismanagement and seen the repercussions of too many people saying too many different things about one product, I love the idea as a way to get a grip on the lack of consistency these practices cause. But as a creative person, all the structure, and containers, and databases, and passwords are starting to make me feel like I work in a straightjacket�or worse, in IT!

You say you want a revolution

While this idea is new to me professionally, my awareness of the world�s obsession with containers has been growing for a long time. Just take a look around your local wholesale club. Every month or so I buy two waxed packages of Cheerios, stuffed into a large box, and wrapped tightly in plastic. I have to open three containers just to have a bowl of cereal. I�ve also noticed the packaging for pasta. No one buys that much pasta because it�s a good deal�it�s not. I buy it because it comes in a nice clear plastic self-locking container that I can save and use for something else later. It�s the container I want, not a year�s supply of rigatoni.

I�m guilty of it in other ways too. I�ve started purposely buying that deli meat in the little resealable plastic container, because I want the Gladware, not because I want the ham. I can get ham anywhere. I don�t understand this because what I really want�long for�is some plain white butcher paper.

So, imagine how I felt the other night when I came home and found some in the fridge. A nice little white package recklessly secured with butcher tape (no password required), the scents of the German butcher shop still on the paper. I lifted it from the shelf and smelled it. I took a moment to enjoy unfurling the wrap. I peeled back the last fold of paper, and what did I see inside? Sausage.

Apparently our obsession with containers is nothing new. Reports of sausages date back to as early as 1415. Now, I see that containers can very useful. Sausages were created so meat would last longer stuffed into entrails and then preserved with salt. Now, I think of all sorts of ways containers are useful that I never realized before. Think about how easy it is to find a bottle of wine these days if you need one, rather than gutting a goat and tying off the end its bladder. I like wine, but not that much.

Embrace the change

Maybe we are nervous about information containers, and databases, and content management systems for no reason. Yes, it will be a more controlled way of creating meaningful content. Yes, we will be restricted in what we can and can�t say. But it will also prevent disgruntled employees from adding dog sh*t to the ingredient list of our favorite food products. That can�t be bad.

Maybe we should look upon the advent of �data-based� content more like the advent of the wine bottle. All wine bottles look pretty much the same, but there is still room for creative label design, differences in tastes, red versus white. The container doesn�t really change the way we drink wine, it just makes it more easily accessible. That can�t be bad either.

So, as my friend and fellow technical communicator, Greg said, �Embrace the change.� I will try. I�m beginning to see the value in creating (yes, I said creating) documents from elements stored in a data base. It might even be fun�like putting together a puzzle. But darn it, don�t take away my ability to express myself (or my company�s image) in other ways. Don�t make me look just like everyone else at the next conference I attend or restrict my right to give away prizes. I don�t want to have to start a revolution.

About the author
Diane Wieland is a communications consultant with Precisely Write in Indianapolis.

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