Wikipedia has two kinds of problems. The first category includes problems it recognizes and realizes how to fix, sometimes through a policy change but more often, in recent years especially, by administrative actions or PR activities led by the Wikimedia Foundation. For example, educators once warned students away from Wikipedia, but now editing Wikipedia is an increasingly common pedagogical tool, for which a great deal of credit is owed to the Wiki Education Foundation.
The second type of problem comprises those issues it cannot or will not fix, for reasons as diverse as the problems themselves. This past week brings us another example, highlighted by a September 29 column in the Washington Post Magazine by Gene Weingarten, titled “Dear Wikipedia: Please change my photo!” This comes more than four years after Philip Roth published “An Open Letter to Wikipedia” online at The New Yorker. In each case, both men found fault with their biographical entries on Wikipedia, and used their access to the mainstream media to call attention to the changes.
I am not a vain guy. I am ugly and know it. But this was still a hard column to write. https://t.co/9NyIlfy7oj
— Gene Weingarten (@geneweingarten) September 29, 2016
The problem we are highlighting is that anyone who is written about in a Wikipedia entry typically has no idea what they can or cannot do if they have a problem with said entry. There is some awareness that editing one’s own biography is fraught with peril—“(One is evidently not allowed to alter one’s own entry.)” Weingarten explains in an aside that is effectively true, technically false, and debatable as a matter of Wikipedia guidelines, so who can blame him—but there is little understanding of what one is supposed to do instead:
I tried asking Wikipedia to change or delete this picture. No answer. So I did what any user can do, and deleted it myself, on seven occasions — which, yes, was in blatant and shameful contravention of all Wikimedia Commons policies blah, blah, blah.
Absent a clear path to offering feedback, Weingarten and Roth did they only thing they could imagine: they tried editing the “encyclopedia anyone can edit”. Oddly enough, this didn’t work. Looking at Weingarten’s edits, it’s not hard to see why his attempts to remove the photo were overturned: more than once he simply deleted the entire infobox. He might have been successful if he’d just removed the actual image link (but then again maybe not) however it stands to reason a middle-aged newspaper humor columnist might not be the most adept with markup languages. In Roth’s case, he asked his biographer to make the changes for him, which were overturned because available news sources contravened Roth’s preferred version.
New photo for Gene Weingarten’s photo, via Simona Combi on Flickr. Whether it’s actually an improvement is a matter on which reasonable people can disagree.
In Roth’s case, it was a more complicated matter: several book reviews had identified a character in Roth’s The Human Stain as “allegedly inspired by” a writer whom Roth denies was the character’s inspiration. In the short term, Roth’s objection was noted, but sometime after the entire matter was relocated to a subsection of the novel’s Wikipedia entry as “Anatole Broyard controversy”, explaining the matter more fully. This seems like the right outcome.
So, everything worked itself out, right? That’s just how Wikipedia works? Mostly, and yes, and this is nevertheless somewhat regrettable. The fact is Weingarten and Roth are both able to command a major media audience via a “reliable source” platform that the vast majority of people (and bands, brands, teams, companies, nonprofits, &c.) do not. The method they used to get action not only doesn’t scale, it rarely happens at all due to most article subjects’ fear of a “Streisand effect” bringing undue attention to their article. As Weingarten writes in his piece:
[I]it is also possible that this column will serve as a clarion call to every smart aleck and wisenheimer and cyber-vandal out there. Anyone can make ephemeral changes to my Wikipedia page, any time.
Fortunately, that hasn’t happened, but it isn’t an unreasonable worry. Fortunately for Weingarten, as a white male whose writing doesn’t really take sides on controversial issues, he’s not much of a target for the Internet’s troll armies and political agitators.
The causes of this failure are many. We can assign some blame to Wikipedia’s strict policies regarding copyrights and reliance on crowdsourced images which has made its often-poor celebrity headshots both a source of angst and amusement. We can assign some to Wikipedia’s confusing discussion pages, which are forbidding; a project was once in development to overhaul them, only to be mothballed after facing community critcism. We can assign some as well to the contradictory message of Wikipedia as the encyclopedia anyone can edit—just not when the subject is the one you know about best, yourself. And we cannot let Wikipedia’s editing community escape blameless; even as they are not an organized (or organizable) thing, the culture is generally hostile to outsiders, unless of course said outsiders can get their criticism of Wikipedia into a periodical they’ve heard of before.
In the four years since the Roth episode, Wikipedia has had time to come up with a process for accepting, reviewing, and responding to feedback. I’ve argued previously for placing a button on each entry to solicit feedback, feeding into a public queue for editorial review. The reasons not to do this are obvious: most of it would be noise, and there wouldn’t be enough editor time to respond even to those requests which might be actionable.
I still think the feedback button is a good idea, but I recognize it is not sufficient: it would also needs an ombuds committee set up to triage this feedback. Perhaps this could be community-run, but this seems too important to be left up to volunteers. This work could be performed by WMF staff even if, for complicated reasons every Wikipedia editor understands but would need a lengthy paragraph to explain, they could not implement them outright. And it’s not just a matter of making sure Wikipedia is accurate—though you’d think that would be enough!—it’s also a matter of making sure Wikipedia is responsible and responsive to legitimate criticism.
Of course, Wikipedia already operates on this very model, in a way: it solicits edits from its readership, and then also spends a lot of time reverting unhelpful edits, and the difference between bad edits with good intentions and bad edits with bad intentions is often impossible to tell. Providing a clear option for expressing a specific concern rather than forcing the expression of that problem to be an edit rather than a request is something Wikipedians should think about again. When someone is unhappy with their Wikipedia entry, that they have no idea what can be done about it isn’t really their fault. Ultimately, it’s Wikipedia’s. And it’s not just an abstract information asymmetry problem—it’s a PR problem, too.
The linked NYT article says it all: «And considering the money that stars spend to maintain their image, it is surprising that more have not invested in high-quality, freely licensed photographs for Wikipedia and other sites». It’s good that we can use vanity to force celebrities to think of free licenses.
Would OTRS not be a good solution for the feedback mechanism? In fact, why was that not a sufficient means to resolve this incident? I’m not particularly familiar with that corner of the movement and would love to hear your opinion.
OTRS may have worked for him in this case, because it didn’t concern written article content. However, in matters like Philip Roth, it would have been obliged not to act. The bigger problem is: how would either of them even know about OTRS in order to contact it? Perhaps this is where a feedback button should go first.
Interestingly, Gene Weingarten says in the column that he had contacted Wikipedia without getting any response. I doubt this is OTRS, because they at least would have sent back a perfunctory reply. But I can’t find any record of him asking before he tried deleting (and to be fair, I haven’t asked him, either).
This is the same “I can’t follow instructions without THIS MUCH handholding” argument that keeps coming back. Nobody is saying a humor columnist needs to know markup code. But can a humor columnist see the link called “Help” and click on it?
Instead, an IP posts a note calling an editor crude names and accusing him of malice. And then things go not particularly smoothly from there. Amazing. Is it news that it’s easier to get your restaurant order corrected if you don’t call the staff “dickhead” and accuse them of being “hostile and shitty”? That approach works even worse at a restaurant staffed by volunteers.
It’s rather dishonest of Weingarten to tell his readers that these personal attacks were “begging” and “pathetic pleas”. That would have gotten in the way of a good story, I guess.
A “Feedback” button would work no better than the existing “Help” button, and and biographies of living persons help page.
I have experience with replacing unflattering photos of article subjects with acceptable ones, and there’s no reason at all for drama, or technical wizardry. Common courtesy is all it takes.
Dennis, you mean the “Help” button in the lefthand side in the middle of a long list of other links, that goes to a page crowded with numerous competing messages, and offers four different potential solutions, and when you click on “Contact us” you go to another page that’s even more confusing. The UX is terrible, and Wikipedians cannot expect the general public to understand Wikipedia the way we do.
Yes, as a former English Wikipedia administrator, my reaction to the mention of “the existing ‘Help’ button” was, “What button?” Text links in a sidebar aren’t buttons. And anyway it’s very well-documented that most people mentally tune out such “background” elements. I know I generally ignore them; I usually get around Wikipedia projectspace through bookmarks or by typing in shortcuts like “WP:HELP” from memory. Now, I think an actual, prominent help button that puts you in direct contact with a human being might be an idea worth exploring. We already have the IRC help channels, but fail to leverage them maximally because most people have no idea what IRC is. If you’re not a computer geek like me, have fun trying to decipher WP:IRC.