| Title | College radio: managing the creative through software and policy, a case study |
| Publication Type | thesis |
| School or College | College of Humanities |
| Department | Communication |
| Author | O'brien, Erik Yde |
| Date | 2015 |
| Description | This thesis addresses a gap in technological and managerial literature. Using Actor-Network Theory, Social Construction, and the Componential Theory of Creativity, I show how software is used to manage and construct creative workers. This case study looks specifically at college radio disc jockeys (DJs) at KUTE radio. The method is that of a qualitative research study, relying on observation, interviews, conversation, and by combing through archives at KUTE. In Chapter 1, I give a history of the organization and then outline archetypes of DJs found in both popular culture as well as within the organization. In Chapter 2, I show how these archetypes conflict with the newly implemented Digital Automated Delivery (DAD) radio automation and how, via a software studies perspective, the software changes the nature of work within the organization. In Chapter 3, I discuss how DAD accompanies new policies and how these policies affect DJs, the creative process, and the organization as a whole. The paper concludes that creative workers will be subject to job automation similar to the manufacturing jobs of the past, and demonstrates that this is problematic for both creative workers and the organizations that hire them. I then go on to suggest further areas of research that can build on this work. |
| Type | Text |
| Publisher | University of Utah |
| Subject | creative; policy; radio; software; work |
| Dissertation Name | Master of Arts |
| Language | eng |
| Rights Management | © Erik Yde O'Brien |
| Format | application/pdf |
| Format Medium | application/pdf |
| Format Extent | 27,195 bytes |
| Identifier | etd3/id/4057 |
| ARK | ark:/87278/s6wq3c5r |
| DOI | https://doi.org/doi:10.26053/0H-8Z5N-32G0 |
| Setname | ir_etd |
| ID | 197607 |
| OCR Text | Show COLLEGE RADIO: MANAGING THE CREATIVE THROUGH SOFTWARE AND POLICY, A CASE STUDY by Erik Yde O'Brien A thesis submitted to the faculty of The University of Utah in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts Department of Communication The University of Utah December 2015 Copyright © Erik Yde O'Brien 2015 All Rights Reserved The University of Utah Graduate School STATEMENT OF THESIS APPROVAL The thesis of Erik Yde O'Brien has been approved by the following supervisory committee members: Robert Gehl , Chair 4/15/2015 Date Approved Joy Pierce , Member 4/15/2015 Date Approved Sean Lawson , Member 4/15/2015 Date Approved and by Kent Ono , Chair/Dean of the Department/College/School of Communication and by David B. Kieda, Dean of The Graduate School. ABSTRACT This thesis addresses a gap in technological and managerial literature. Using Actor-Network Theory, Social Construction, and the Componential Theory of Creativity, I show how software is used to manage and construct creative workers. This case study looks specifically at college radio disc jockeys (DJs) at KUTE radio. The method is that of a qualitative research study, relying on observation, interviews, conversation, and by combing through archives at KUTE. In Chapter 1, I give a history of the organization and then outline archetypes of DJs found in both popular culture as well as within the organization. In Chapter 2, I show how these archetypes conflict with the newly implemented Digital Automated Delivery (DAD) radio automation and how, via a software studies perspective, the software changes the nature of work within the organization. In Chapter 3, I discuss how DAD accompanies new policies and how these policies affect DJs, the creative process, and the organization as a whole. The paper concludes that creative workers will be subject to job automation similar to the manufacturing jobs of the past, and demonstrates that this is problematic for both creative workers and the organizations that hire them. I then go on to suggest further areas of research that can build on this work. TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT……………………………………………………………………………...iii INTRODUCTION…………………………………………………………………….…..1 Rationale…………………………………………………………………………….4 Research Questions...……………………………………………………………......5 Method…………………………………………………………………………....…5 Road Map……………………………………………………….….……….……....8 Chapters 1 KUTE RADIO CULTURE AND HISTORY…………….……..…………….……….10 Community Activist……………………………………..………..….…….…..….11 The Entertainer………………….……….….…..……..………….…….…………15 The Informer………………………………………………...……………………..17 KUTE: A Condensed Cultural History………………..…….……………………..20 Summary…………………………………………………….…..…………………24 2 "I HAVE DADDY ISSUES"……………...………..………...………………………..25 Literature Review………………………………………………………….…..…..26 DAD: Function and Dysfunction………………………………………...…….…..34 DAD and the Changing Nature of Work and Creativity Within KUTE……..…....40 Summary………….………………………………………………………..………47 3 CYBERORGANIZATION: WHERE TECHNOLOGY, POLICY, IDENTITY, AND CREATIVITY MEET…………………..………………………………….............…….49 Literature Review………………..……………..…….…….….….....…...….…….49 KUTE Policies, DAD, and Identity…..…………..….………...……..………..…..59 KUTE Policies and the Componential Theory of Creativity……...….……………71 Summary…………………………………………………………….....…………..76 4 CONCLUSION AND FUTURE RESEARCH…………..….………..………………..77 v Research Questions Answered…………………………………………………….77 REFERENCES………………………………………………………….……………….82 INTRODUCTION Armed with only a MacBook assembled in a Foxconn plant by nimble fingers, a Che Guevara t-shirt, and a hard drive filled to the brim with Grateful Dead hits, the KUTE student radio disc jockey fights to bring down "the man" that his chemical engineering degree will soon turn him into, broadcasting live all day every day to bring about some kind of angst-filled revolution. All joking aside, this image of college radio as a quirky and rebellious place has been captured in our cultural imagination in popular films such as College Radio (2011) and Old School (2003) starring Will Ferrell and Luke Wilson. Though not directly about college radio, community media production is often presented as a tale of discarded weirdoes who are finally getting a chance to do something truly great like in Weird Al's UHF (1989) and Be Kind Rewind (2008). These films are often about how the freedom to be creative and independent trump the regulatory forces that be, such as in Pirate Radio (2009). Despite one of KUTE's DJs, Mark, saying "… I can only think [of] the real experiences I've had with college radio because it was essentially a movie," these images are not necessarily true, even though the University of Utah's own radio station KUTE has had a history of mischief and rule breaking behavior involving illegal substances (Totten, 2009). The less fantastical realities of today's KUTE radio is that while there is a wealth of creative and independent DJs, the director staff spends most of their time figuring out how to manage these creative workers. KUTE, up until recently, has had to worry about 2 DJs not showing up to their shows, thus causing dead air, which is unacceptable in the eyes of management. To remedy this, KUTE has recently implemented Digital Audio Delivery (DAD) radio automation software that allows for around-the-clock auto and prerecorded play in the event that a DJ is unable to do their show. While helpful for management, the implementation of this software requires all DJs to tailor their show through the complicated software. DJs are now unable to play what they want when they want on the fly; it all must be planned. The software allows the directors to monitor what the DJs play and when they play it. This added surveillance enables management to gather more specific data on what DJs do, but has made certain exceptional DJs uncomfortable with the new monitoring techniques. The DJs are most definitely creative workers because they bring prerecorded, edited audio into the studio and put on a performance for their listeners. Being a DJ is both a performance art and a technical art that requires an immense amount of planning, creativity, and thinking. H.A. Simon argues "Creativity is thinking; it just happens to be thinking that leads to results that we think are great" (Amabile, 1996, p. 1). As the U.S. makes its transition to a creative economy (Florida, 2006), the question of how best to manage these creative workers will increase. Scholars have been asking "What can managers do for creativity?" (Bilton & Leary, 2002) for a fair amount of time now and have provided various case studies from computer programming (Rosenberg, 2007) to the film industry (Seidel & Rosemann, 2008). Yet, none at this point have looked at less professional organizations that have such strong independent and creative ideologies behind them as College Radio DJs. This proposed case study goes beyond looking at conventional creative worker 3 management and looks at the use of technology to manage creative workers. Specifically, how does DAD radio automation software affect management, policies, and creative workers at KUTE radio? Like creative management, there is a strong body of literature surrounding the implementation of technology into the labor force, most notably the work of Shoshanna Zuboff such as In the Age of the Smart Machine: The Future of Work and Power (Zuboff, 1988) and articles like "Automate-informate: The two faces of intelligent technology" (Zuboff, 1985). In her works, Zuboff focuses on "… New Technologies requir[ing] organization changes, attitudinal and cultural shifts, creative initiatives from managers…" (Zuboff, 1988, p. 308) but does not focus on creative workers themselves. Moving away from the organizational field and into the software studies realm, much attention has been paid to exactly how technology is produced and affects its users. Programs are not impartial; they have both implicit and explicit ideology as we see in Behind the Blip (Fuller, 2003) and Dreaming in Code (Rosenberg, 2007). What happens when we let software try to manage something that we as humans still struggle to do? We know that humans struggle to manage these types of workers when even our most liberating, agile methods of management, which focus on individuals, functionality, collaboration, and quick responses to change, can lead to project failure. Can automation do any better? It is most definitely issuing promises (DAD, 2014). This study explores the uses of automation software and policies to manage college radio DJs. Does software provide a healthy and "informated" work environment that aids in creative freedom? Or is it simply digital Taylorism putting immense power in the hands of a machine? Or (more likely) is it some kind of hybrid? 4 Rationale …New Technologies require organization changes, attitudinal and cultural shifts, creative initiatives from managers... - Zuboff (1988, p. 308). I will be using three theoretical frames to interpret my study: Social Construction, Actor Network Theory, and the Componential Theory of Creativity (Amabile, 2012; Ingram, Schneider, & Deleon, 2007). Actor Network Theory will be used to view the relationships between software, creativity, and policy. Through the lens of social construction, I hope to see how KUTE's DAD policy is used to manage and create assumptions about what a DJ is and who management thinks DJs are. The Componential Theory of Creativity will be used to assess whether management's DAD policy is bolstering or hampering DJ's ability to do creative work. This study benefits the scholarly community by merging three academic discourses: management, creativity, and software, into one case study, which has not been done in the context of college radio. Additionally, the scholarly findings of this study will also be of use to radio stations hoping to enact successful policy as well as for the very DJs they seek to manage. This study has immense practical application. In fact, the entire reason I have pursued this line of questioning is because of my own experience with KUTE radio on campus. As the Assistant General Manager of KUTE, one of my main goals is to give student DJs the best, most constructive, and educational experience possible, while at the same time, creating an organization that has some semblance of the corporate work place. I want to have happy DJs and a successful organization, which are two things that some in the organization think are at odds with one another. Investigating our radio DJ automation software, and the policies which have been born from them, is critical since it is increasingly becoming the backbone of the organization. 5 Research Questions My overarching research question is: what are the unforeseen consequences of DAD? To answer this question, I have divided it into three more specific research questions that function to answer this overall question: RQ1: How is DAD automation software used to manage KUTE DJs? RQ2: How does DAD automation software influence and create new policy? RQ3: How do DAD-derived policies construct DJ identity? Method Site Selection I cannot deny the serendipity and opportunism in my site selection. I am tasked with advising KUTE as an organization and have held the position for almost two years. I had been interested in the role of technology in people's lives since the start of my academic career, but it was not until I put two and two together, so to speak, that I realized that a current hole in the academic literature could be explored through a case study at KUTE. I decided on KUTE because of very clear, creative worker elements at play as well as the ease of accessibility. Additionally, KUTE was a great fit for this line of research since the software has only recently become a core part of the organization. I am able to speak with DJs and directors who remember the days before the software, and, because of the time I had made available to collect data, I knew I would be able to see new students mature into a different breed of experienced DJ within the emerging significance of the DAD software. 6 Sampling My goal was to gather information that would enable me to make claims about both individual DJ experiences and the organizational vibe as a whole. I did this by sampling consistently from four areas of the organization. The first was weekly meetings of the director staff. The director staff is made up of seven student leaders who pull the majority of the strings at KUTE. Examples of these positions include, music, sports, operations, marketing, programming, and training directors. Since the director staff is entirely made up of students, sometimes directors would have scheduling conflicts and were unable to attend the meetings. However, to be fair, at least half of the director's staff was present at every meeting. On a more individual level, I spent time in person and would sometimes simply listen remotely (more often I was physically present but it is important to occasionally listen to the product that the rest of the KUTE listenership experiences) to the music and talk show The Mix at Midday and The Sports Hoe Down. Once again, these shows would infrequently be cancelled due to school conflicts. My final consistent area of data collection took place at KUTE remotes, where the station sets up and produces shows outside the studio, usually for promotional reasons. At these remotes, other DJs from the station would volunteer to staff the promotional table, which afforded me the opportunity to observe and speak with most of the staff at one point or another. Data-Gathering Techniques My techniques for gathering data varied depending upon the situation. During the directors meetings, I was a participant observer and would only ask questions to individuals after the meeting was over. After having a short-lived time where I attempted 7 to record everything with a digital recorder, it became evident that taking diligent field notes was not only easier, since my digital recorder had many technical limitations, but also more effective since I was able to be more present and less intrusive in the meetings. Additionally, I was advised by James Anderson, a luminary in the field of qualitative research (Anderson, 1987, 2012), who instructed me that my field notes and memory were of the utmost importance rather than ineffectual recordings. When I participated in the studio with The Sports Hoe Down and The Mix at Midday, I used a combination of simple observation as well as asking questions either after the show or during commercial breaks. During the remote broadcast, where there was a considerable amount of downtime for DJs, I would have conversations with them either one on one or in small groups, depending upon how many people were volunteering at the time. Additionally, during times of break from school such as fall break, I would email questions to both director's staff as well as Erica from The Mix at Midday and Ben from The Sports Hoe Down. My field notes were accompanied by constant memo writing. Interview Procedures Before conducting any interviews, I made both my role as a researcher and my goals for the study clear to each participant. I presented them with a copy of my Institutional Review Board consent document and then they verbally approved of my data collection. I assured all participants that anonymity would be kept by using pseudonyms and that I sought a more clear understanding of what was going on and their relationship with technology and policy. While most of my data was collected during casual conversation and observation, when interviewing participants one on one, I strived to always start with a general theme and then allow for a conversation to follow and for the 8 participant to lead the discussion. I would start with a technical question about the technology or policy, for example, "What is the DAD use policy?" or "Why do you use DAD?" Despite these questions seeming rather simple, almost every time, they prompted a long conversation (especially for people who remember a time before DAD) since this is a very hot topic within the organization. Data Analysis My analytical method involved organizing the direct quotes from both email and in-person interviews, and my observational and conversational field notes into themed groups. From these groups, I sought to display the most prominent themes and only used unusual responses when there was a clear and important reason to do so. The quotes and notes I included represent the majority of the organization. This is not to say that all of my participants were on the same page or that I was able to pin down the definitive attitude within KUTE, but I believe that what I present here depicts an accurate snapshot of KUTE and its DJs. Organizing these themes with narrative analysis was done in a thematic method (Coffey & Atkinson, 1996) where I used an evaluation model to search for a narrative to explain what participants were really talking about, why certain points of contention existed, and why their experiences mattered. I then used a software studies and critical policy studies paradigm to interpret the data. My research questions are the product of this paradigm. Road Map This thesis is a three-stop journey. In Chapter 1, I will discuss the archetypes, personalities, and cultural history of KUTE radio. In Chapter 2, I will answer RQ1 and 9 begin to answer RQ2 by exploring DAD's role in KUTE from a software studies perspective. Chapter 3 will answer RQ2 and RQ3 by analyzing the stories and discourses surrounding policies that have been implemented because of DAD at the radio station and how these policies affect the identity of the KUTE DJ. Then in Chapter 4, I will share my conclusion and summarize the implications of my finding and suggest where future research should be conducted. CHAPTER 1 KUTE RADIO CULTURE AND HISTORY Radio is more than simply the sum of its material and content. Radio as a medium has its own unique culture, conventions, and meanings. Much like the stereotype of the writer eternally locked in combat within a dark room with the menacing blank page, radio has its own hurdles and cultural perceptions that span from the loud mouth disk jockey to the stuffy public radio host. Radio has been called our most "intimate medium" because of its dependence on the singular sense of hearing (Orfanella, 1998). In order to make sense of the implications and importance of my findings with regard to automation, creativity, and policy in the context of radio, it is imperative to understand KUTE radio's role in both the past and the present. For example, we could not possibly have a thorough understanding of gun policy in the United States without first discussing the important cultural and historical context that comes along with it. I plan to start by discussing radio DJs at large and then narrow things down to the culture and history of KUTE Radio, The University of Utah's student radio station. We need not go back to Marconi's invention and Sarnoff's eventual consumer scale application to understand the modern conceptions and conventions of radio and its subsequent DJs; we simply need only to speak with those working in radio and look around at the depictions of radio in our cultural products. From my research, three general archetypes for Radio DJs emerged: Community Activist, Entertainer, and 11 Informer. I try to emulate the shows from back home… the sports shows and DJs that I listened to - Ben1 Community Activist One of the other media influences on me was "Chris in the Morning" from Northern Exposure, but that's a show that isn't well known. It did, however, add to my desire to be in radio, as Chris acts as both a musical and philosophical guide for the small town of Cicily, Alaska, being the only radio DJ on the only station in town - Mark The Community Activist is a DJ who has an opinion and has some larger goal, usually political, philosophical, or communal. This differs from the Entertainer (discussed below) since their main goal is to entertain and the Informer (discussed below) as their goal is to inform. This is not to say that Community Activists do not seek to also entertain and inform, but rather that they do so in order to achieve some sort of political or community end. Chris Stevens from the television show Northern Exposure functions as a Community Activist since he exists as a sort of philosophical guide for the town. His goal is to better his community by playing music suited for his small Alaskan town of Cicely while discussing the works of Thoreau and other environmental thinkers. Chris is far from the only Community Activist depicted in modern media; he shares the stage with many others such as Three Dog from the video game Fallout 3 (Bethesda Softworks, 2008). Three Dog greets players who tune into Galaxy News Radio in post-apocalyptic Washington, D.C. with an energetic, wolfish howl and the jamming World War II era tunes of Roy Brown, Cole Porter, and Billie Holiday. Three Dog is an anti-authoritarian DJ whose goal is to "spread the signal" about the evil propaganda from the opposing 1 All first name attributes are from personal interviews and conversation at KUTE. 12 Enclave Radio, which is run by ultrapatriotic and speciesist (against mutants and ghouls) Americans. The player eventually meets Three Dog in person; like Chris from Northern Exposure, he functions as a literal and figurative guide for players navigating the wasteland. Three Dog is highly politicized. He stands in opposition to slavers and other such groups and attempts to rally the do-gooders of DC together. On a mildly humorous and relevant note, later in the game, players find out that the operator, DJ, and ruler of the evil Enclave is actually a robot (which comes as a surprise since the station has such a prohuman bent). This revelation can be interpreted as illustrative of the nature of automation being the opposite of everything a Community Activist stands for. The machine is cold, lifeless, bland, and seeks to control. These Community Activists can also simply function as characters that highlight local issues. For example, there is Professor K in the video game Jet Grind Radio (Smilebit, 2000). Professor K is a zany eccentric radio DJ who ran a pirate radio station out of New York City until pressure mounted from the legal establishment, forcing him to transplant to Tokyo where he continues his musical broadcast while focusing on the gang and graffiti culture of the area. Professor K is an Entertainer but does not do his shtick for money; he does it for the love of the community. The same goes for Madame Psychosis's show 60 +/- from the book Infinite Jest (Wallace, 1996). Madame Psychosis runs a show on the community radio station WYYY and fills the airwaves with cynicism and lessons that verge on the spiritual. She has many faithful listeners who find solace in her cynicism for some bizarre reason and they even go through a form of withdrawal when she disappears from the airwaves. Much of her subject matter is about those who are hideously deformed, since she has a self-proclaimed face for radio, and thus creates a 13 bonding mechanism for those inflicted with such deformities creating a sort of community over the public airwaves. This archetype does not just manifest itself in the fictional media but also in the real world. For example, we can view the Mexican "X" radio stations themselves functioning as this sort of archetype from the 1930s to the 1960s (Avant-Mier, 2010). "X" radio stations were the incredibly powerful AM stations being broadcast from Mexico across the US border, thus making them "outlaw" radio stations. These stations made "…significant Latin/o contributions to mainstream US culture…" (p. 49) and impacted the identities of Americans, immigrants, and Mexican-Americans who had either crossed the border or the border had crossed them. These "X" radio broadcasts undermine what the physical border is, and what it represented, and allowed for community building to occur in the United States around Mexican media. Music as communication creates a dialogic space but does not dictate culture in a transmission sense (p. 21). However, music can be a tool for keeping radio as a relevant medium. We can see this in the 1950s in the United States when the advent of rock and roll put radio back on the map after losing much of its listenership to the invention of the television (Keith & Krause, 1986). Rock and roll became emblematic of youth culture at the time and gave the DJs who mainly played music (radio was largely talk back then) the power to build communities and embody rebellious youth culture. More recently, we see community radio programs being used to inform and bring together populations around the climate change movement. For example, the United Nations has sung praise for community radio stations in countries like Nigeria and Bangladesh for their efforts to combat climate change and other environmental issues 14 (United Nations, 2012). These radio stations do not simply disseminate information since the radio DJs are members of local communities; they dispense helpful knowledge related to fishing and flood risks by creating radio dramas and hosting call-in shows. The UN found that these community stations that advocate on an issue basis are useful since "[t]he sense of empowerment that people and communities can feel by engaging in this way can help to build local, institutional and organizational capacity" (p. 1). We need look no further than our own radio dials to find these community actors. Simply turn your dial (or more likely mash the buttons) and find your local independent radio stations, like KRCL in Salt Lake City (not your NPR affiliate), and prepare to hear programming made by members of your community, for your community. Most of these people do not even get paid; they do it out of the love of cause, community, or maybe even vanity, if they are breaking the archetype. It is important to look at the Community Activist archetype and the stations that support them as engaging in more than just run-of-the-mill communication. When talking about Radio Estrella Del Mar, a Chilean community station, an organizer explained "… our work could encompass a whole series of processes of communication understood as the construction of meaning, not as transmission of information" (Rodriguez, 2003, p. 185). The Community Activist exists in fiction as a philosophical guide in Northern Exposure and as a rebellious friend like Three Dog. These caricatures are informed by reality such as the "outlaw" nature of the "X" radio stations on the border and the angst found in early rock and roll. These fictional caricatures in turn influence real radio DJs, such as Mark who crafts his identity from what he learned from Frasier and Northern Exposure. Additionally, simply saying the words "independent radio" or "pirate radio" or 15 even "college radio" will conjure a caricature in the minds of most people; it may even be that of the Community Activist archetype. Mark explained what he thought the responsibilities of a radio host was, "To me, the main identity of a DJ is someone offering their voice to the community, believing that what they have to say is something that many people should hear." The Entertainer I think within popular culture, the general idea of a radio DJ is that of an almost frat guy, think Bulldog from Frasier, or anybody on a morning show, i.e. X96 or morning zoo. - Mark For example, if Bill from RFH2 isn't cranky in real life (like his character on air), it throws off his fans. - Erica Entertainers entertain. They are zany, they can be vulgar, and they mean to please. As Mark said above, this person is usually constructed like a snide frat guy. Mark's example, Bulldog from Frasier (Casey, 1993), hosts the Gonzo Sports show on KACL, which is a typical sports show filled with machismo and a rude demeanor toward his guests and his callers. This is all a part of his act. These shock jock characters do more than talk sports as they seek to entertain their audiences. Take Adrian Cronaur from Good Morning Vietnam (Brezner & Levinson, 1987), for example. In the film, Cronaur is a military radio DJ who is transferred to Vietnam. His style is that of a fast-talking, wise-cracking funny man. The troops love him, but management has a hard time pinning him down. His radio performance does not stop on the airwaves as his general demeanor continually gets him in trouble with authority figures. Later in the film, it could be said that Cronaur shifts from a pure lewd-Entertainer style of funny man to more of a 2 Radio From Hell (X96), the most popular morning radio show in Salt Lake City. 16 Community Activist as he no longer only seeks to entertain. These characters manifest themselves in reality most often in our encounters with morning shows on our commutes to work. For example, Erica remembers fondly her memories of morning DJs, Jon Carter and The Coach on The Arrow saying: I think nonradio folk have a very romantic picture of DJs in their heads. I grew up listening to Jon Carter and The Coach on Arrow 103.5. I went to a concert last year with my mom, and Jon Carter introduced Gordon Lightfoot. As soon as JC came onstage, my mom and I went crazy- more than when Gordon Lightfoot came on. We make strange attachments to these people we've never met but who are always with us on our morning commutes… Just goes to show that the DJ plays a strangely important role in people's lives. - Erica These figures need not always be the typical commercial radio persona but could also be the likes of the chatty NPR hosts Tom and Ray Magliozzi of Car Talk or Peter Sagal from Wait Wait Don't Tell Me. Even on our noncommercial student-run radio station KUTE, we have shows similar to these entertainment styles, especially that of Frasier's Bulldog. Three times a week, Ben and Aaron host The Sports Hoe Down. The show is much like the performance of Bulldog. On several occasions, I saw Ben and Aaron having conversation that was so loud that they would turn into humorous shouting matches that could be heard from outside of the studio. Ben would usually play the instigator, making sweeping statements that would be perceived in the sports world as being unpopular while Aaron would be the voice of reason and attempt to play the middle field. This was all done in an effort to solicit call-ins to the show, which worked for the most part. While most shows at KUTE receive call-ins mostly from family and friends, The Sports Hoe Down would often receive call-ins from organic listeners with no relation to the hosts, one even from students at the rival school, Brigham Young University. Other Entertainer radio 17 personalities include shock jock folks like Howard Stern. Howard Stern and his antics landed him and his distributor Clear Channel in hot water because of indecent content that puts him firmly in the Entertainer category. DJs like Stern function as the more extreme versions of the Entertainer archetype, but really any DJ whose sole purpose is to entertain fits this category, from Bulldog to Peter Sagal. This archetype is consistent with Fox's (1997) findings that "Confidence and creativity were the abilities they (radio personalities) believe would lead them to desired outcomes" (p. 43). The Informer Voices like that of Edward R. Murrow and Walter Winchell, who brought considerable clout to radio. Those men stand as pillars of journalism, and should remain in the public consciousness. - Nick I realized that that is something I would like to do when I realized that public radio's main focus is honest, factual, and entertaining programming. - Mark The Informer archetype is the factual anchorperson. They are usually synonymous with boredom and jazz music. The goal of this archetype is to transmit factual information. Unlike the Community Activist or Entertainer, the Informer attempts to stick to by-the-books journalism. While this is not always the case in reality, the archetype gives a pretty decent mold of what people expect. These DJs need not actually work for NPR but have a commitment to facts and information transmission on any level. DJs who fit this archetype can be giving information about the weather or traffic on a local level, but they are not Community Activists because of their lack of dedication to a cause. Most of the time, these figures exist on a national scale, broadcasting information to the masses: Think Edward R Murrow or the more modern Bill Kurtis. However, despite appearing knowledgeable, the Informational archetype is usually seen as stuffy, and tends 18 to attract audiences who share their high-brow stereotype. As Spongebob Squarepant's grumpy neighbor Squidward Tentacles once proclaimed arrogantly, "You can't fool me; I listen to public radio." While this archetype can often be constructed as boring and uninteresting, similar to the character Frasier, the archetype in KUTE DJs' eyes encompasses all journalists. Unlike the Entertainer and Community Activist, the Informer is defined moreso by the journalistic process than the on-air performance. While the news show on KUTE was unaffiliated in its endeavors, it tried to be more than just a place where anchors would regurgitate news. The idea was to have boots-on-the-ground reporters getting exciting scoops. If they were covering entertainment, they wanted to be Lester Bangs from Almost Famous, not the folks from TMZ. Ideally, the KUTE news show professed that its performance inspiration came from the Ed Murrow types while expecting a romantic view of the journalistic process consistent with other authors' findings (Markham, 2011; Zelizer, 2004). While this was the ideal, it was seldom the practice at KUTE. The show ended up being more of a current event recap with friends and only occasionally delivered on its ideals. However, a segment played during breaks at KUTE in 2014 called 90-second News that consisted of 90 seconds of noneditorialized straight reporting that has since vanished from the programming lineup. While this is one of the three main archetypes that appeared during my conversations with DJs at KUTE, the other two archetypes are more prevalent in KUTE's programming. Currently, there are three sports shows, all of which mostly fit the Entertainer archetype. To be fair, one of the three attempts to have a more informational character, but is still hardly close to the Informer archetype. The remainder of 19 programming consists of music shows that somewhat resemble the Community Activist archetype, but even then, they are still mostly in the Entertainer category. There is only one news show on the station that constructs itself as the Informer archetype since it states that it is a journalistic news show that aspires to the Society of Professional Journalist guidelines. That being said, the "news" show still contains rampant editorializing and thus is more of the Entertainer despite constructing its outward appearance as the more professional Informer (though they are currently trying to drop the editorializing). In summary, my argument is that these archetypes set up a form of expectation and provide an example of a DJ personality that is already accepted in media and in our culture. Their personalities are all adopted, created, and modified by KUTE DJs. I agree with Carey's definition of communication: "communication is a symbolic process whereby reality is produced, maintained, repaired, and transformed" (Carey, 1999 p. 243). I view the images of DJs, the music they play, and the performances KUTE DJs put on, all as a form of discourse, which is inherently communicative. Discussing these archetypes is useful because it gives a framework to understand the social constructions of the audience, DJs, and management. Additionally, this aids in understanding why the software and policies being used to manage these DJs are important. For example, since most of the DJs at the station would be considered the Entertainer and rely on flexibility in show structure and their abilities to improvise, it is worth exploring how management, technology, and policy could affect their actions, their abilities to perform cultural expectations of DJ archetypes, as well as influence their motivation as workers/artists. This relationship will be discussed at length in later chapters, but we must first discuss 20 the history of KUTE. KUTE: A Condensed Cultural History The previous examples and archetypes function in the larger context of radio, but the goal of this section is to bring it down to the KUTE level. This section will provide an understanding of the culture of KUTE as an organization and how it is situated within the University and student media. The following information was gathered from news clippings obtained from the KUTE General Manager that originated in The University of Utah's The Chronicle, which, like KUTE, is under the organizational umbrella of student media. Additional information has been gathered from both interviews and observations while listening to conversations among members of the organization, and from the KUTE Handbook. All news clippings are readily available in The Chronicle archives and online. According to the KUTE Handbook, University of Utah radio began with the establishment of KFPH in 1924, and operated out of the Park Building on Presidents Circle (pp. 3-5). The programming was largely of an educational and informational nature, consisting of announcements and lectures. At this time, the station filled the role of the Informer. The call letters were eventually changed to KFUT for unspecified reasons. The station vanished at an unspecified date due to the depression and was in "…hibernation for nearly two decades, until a movement in the late 1940s began to wake up the desire for practical broadcast training opportunities at the ‘U'" (p. 4). Though the Handbook details the many opportunities to gain practical broadcast skills at the University and in the community, the University did not acquire an actual FM station until June 5, 1960 with the call letters KUER. During this time, KUER (90.1) was a student-operated station. In 1967, KUER rose in popularity and professionalism and it 21 slowly shed its student-operated role. KUTE was born with funding from Associated Students of the University of Utah (ASUU), the Student Affairs Committee, and donated radio equipment from KUER. At this time, KUTE only broadcasted into the student dormitories and existed as "an initial training laboratory for undergraduate students interested in broadcasting and as a place to ‘cut their teeth' before applying for work at KUER" (p. 4). By the 1970s, KUTE had lost most of its support and leadership, and it stopped broadcasting. At this time and through the 1980s, KUER blossomed into a professional radio organization with full-time employees, and students existed only as interns within the organization. KUER eventually became an NPR affiliate rebroadcasting nationally syndicated shows. In 1986, University of Utah undergraduate Todd Gabler, along with some distinguished communication professors, decided to resurrect KUTE for the good of student broadcasting. By the next year, KUTE was up and running again and sending its signal through a closed circuit to the dorms and A. Roy Olpin Union building. Despite being back in action on the top floor of the Union building, KUTE still ran into some problems. Specifically, ASUU thought that using student fees to fund a radio station, which could only be heard by students living in the dorms, was a waste of money. ASUU would only continue funding KUTE if it could extend its listener base to the entire campus. KUTE obliged and by 1999 KUTE was circulated through the U-TV system to the entire campus. The station obtained an AM transmitter (though it is now defunct) and, within the last decade, began broadcasting online and via mobile devices. If this sounds like a cut and dried history, that is because it appears in the official KUTE Handbook. It is factual but does not give us a glimpse at the organization's culture. For that we go to our news clippings from The Chronicle starting 22 in 1995. Despite the mostly cheery news in the Handbook, KUTE's recent history exposes its consistent struggle with remaining relevant. In The Chronicle's archive, there are several articles with titles like "U Broadcasting Doesn't Help U Students Succeed" (Daily Utah Chronicle, 1998), "U. of U.'s KUTE Radio Struggles to Stay On Air" (Stewart, 2002), and comics that disparage the pitiful transmission radius of its AM transmitter. Additionally, there are many articles discussing the potential for KUTE to get a Low Power FM transmitter and license. However, despite all the hype in the articles, there is very little describing the fact that KUTE was unable to obtain the funds for the transmitter or the license. There is a continuing pattern of false hope and disappointment for KUTE and Low Power FM as recently as last year, when they attempted to get the license and once again failed to obtain one. It is also noteworthy that for whatever reason, KUTE and The Chronicle do not have the best of relationships. It could be because KUTE is far too vain and it is the Chronicle's duty to bring to light facts that may not be too glamorous for the organization, but it is more likely that KUTE's lack of funding and attention reduces their appearance of relevancy from peers. As KUTE DJ Erica says, "Like I said once, KUTE is like the younger, mentally disabled brother of The Chrony- it's like we're shoved in a closet and not taken seriously." This is not an isolated comment. At numerous director and staff meetings, it has been brought up that KUTE is often overlooked and laughed at. Among the director staff there is certainly an inferiority complex going on that frames issues in an ‘all against us' way. While it is not my place to judge whether these feelings are well deserved, I bring it up to highlight that while this notion brings the organization together, it is isolated from the rest of student media. 23 KUTE feels more on its own and the rules placed on the organization are looked at with suspicion from outside groups within the University. It's a very you-don't-care-about-us-so-we-will-follow-our-own-rules type situation. This lack of perceived care from outside the organization, both from external management and the lack of listeners, leads director and DJ staffs to think that their actions are invisible to the University and they can do as they please. This invisibleness has led to some very rebellious and anxious behavior in the past; think of it as an extension of the Entertainer archetype. These DJs will do what they want when they want to entertain the masses (or friends and parents if you are a DJ at KUTE). The chief nefarious action took place in 2007 with the ending of a popular KUTE show "Behind The Blue Door" which was found to be operating a sex hotline as well as doing some sort of unspecified vandalism to the studio (Daily Utah Chronicle, 2007). This is the most odd of the disciplinary infractions that have taken place at KUTE. More routinely, KUTE has had to deal with alcohol infractions, most notably in 2009 when they received four infractions of alcohol consumption in the studio and The Chronicle quoting a DJ at the time saying, "It's almost a tradition that we get put on probation a few times a year" (Totten, 2009). From my conversations with others who were around during that time, my understanding is that alcohol consumption was just one of the prohibited substances being used in the studio and a current administrator told me that KUTE at that time "took sex, drugs, and rock and roll way too literally!"3. Despite the clinical language of the KUTE Handbook, it would seem that KUTE is a lot more 3 It is worth noting that said administrator supports KUTE in its current form and considers it to be a good actor and positive force for the University. 24 rebellious than it may appear. In response to these scandals (not condoning them, but making light of and reflecting upon the history), one of KUTE's directors staff members Alan commented, "That's what gives KUTE its personality." Summary The purpose of this section has been to acquaint the reader with the background of radio, specifically KUTE radio. KUTE is made up of a staff that mostly fit the archetypes of Community Activist and Entertainer, meaning they rely on a great deal of fluidity and freedom to do their shows. Shows are not regimented; they are loosely scripted (if at all) and improvised. Historically, and according to these archetypes, we can see that the KUTE organization has a bit of a reputation for breaking the rules and being overly casual, while at the same time still having compelling professional content (if you believe the Handbook). It is safe to say from my observations that it is a mix of the two, but there certainly is an expectation of freedom and experimentation for KUTE DJs and their identities. The reason this information is so important is that while attempting to answer all three research questions, we are able to see where the culture will collide with management, software, and policy. When discussing how DAD automation is used to manage, as other scholarship has shown (Zuboff, 1988), it will clash with culture. When new DAD-related policies are put in place, it has the potential to create and clash with the previous organizational culture. Then, our last research question outright looks at how these policies construct and change DJ identities, which interplays with the present KUTE culture. CHAPTER 2 "I HAVE DADDY ISSUES" This chapter seeks to answer RQ1 (How is DAD automation software used to manage KUTE DJs?) and RQ2 (How does DAD automation software influence and create new policy?) from a software studies and Actor-Network Theory (ANT) approach. Though software studies is a fairly new area of study, there is a wealth of literature that informs my approach. I will begin with a brief literature review, followed by a description of how DAD functions, why it was implemented, and then provide a breakdown of three themes that emerged with respect to DAD: creativity vs. professionalism, time, and advertising. I will discuss some software studies literature and ANT before I delve into the literature supporting my reasoning for deciding to employ ANT. The reason ANT is so fitting for my study on DAD automation software is that ANT gives actor status to inanimate objects. This is controversial because the notion of inanimate objects being actors and having agency is problematic for some who argue that these qualities should be reserved for humans and animals. For viewing technology, however, ANT is perfect because, as demonstrated in my research and the research of others (soon to be covered below), technology's role in a network can change relationships and have power in a network despite being an object. Technology, including 26 software, is not just an external force but is created because of social desires for efficiency, money, and industry, and thus shapes our relationships and interactions within a network. Because ANT is a very open theory, technology can thus become the least abstract actor in a network if ideas are considered to be actors as well. ANT is also very useful in terms of a communication theory as it focuses on relationships (similar to Carey's definition used in Chapter 1), for example, when new actors are introduced to a network these relationships change. An example of this is in Law (1997) where he discusses how a manager is created through objects. He describes a large office that has a phone and computer inside and that these objects signal that he is the manager and thus has power. Take these objects out of the network and the manager may still be technically a manager but his power is stripped because there are no objects communicating his status. It is for this reason that I have selected ANT as valuable for looking at software's communicative role within an organization. DAD is more than just software; it is an ideological actor. Literature Review Actor-Network Theory Rai, Khan, and Chauhan (2005) argue for ANT's role when looking at technological systems, building on the founding work in ANT done by Latour (1986, 1993). They argue that ANT is helpful in investigating where the social, political, and technological collide, especially when trying to discover narratives (which I am seeking to do with the stories I encounter at KUTE). The social is KUTE staff, the technological is DAD, and the political are the policies that stem from DAD. The authors argue that ANT functions as both theory and method. ANT predicts that objects, both human and 27 nonhuman, when inserted into a network, will change relationships. Methodologically, ANT steers away from technological determinism, avoiding grounded theory coding processes that they argue rely too much on categorization rather than an investigation of actor negotiations (p. 936). While I admit that my study is not quite ethnography, the authors specifically indicate that ANT is of use to qualitative researchers heading in that direction because of its ability to look at human and nonhuman relationships as part of the same discourse rather than two separate contexts. KUTE, which is structured like a business, is perfect for this approach since "We suggest that actor-network theory… can be particularly useful for studies in areas such as business…" (p. 963). This thesis not only demonstrates how ANT is useful when looking at information systems and technology but also argues that future scholars should be using ANT when researching topics similar to mine. Dugdale (1999) demonstrates ANT's powers in showing how materials construct people, conversation, and space in multiple ways. Dugdale describes being selected to be on a panel to make policy with regard to a health situation in which more than 300 consumers have complained about dysfunction in IUDs in Australia. The first scene chronicles her travel to the Australian Government Health Department building in Melbourne where the policy will be hashed out. She experiences a first class flight, tickets, locked doors, rooms, and meeting the other committee members. She argues that these objects are usually thought of as background, but when using ANT she says, "So my first point is that subjects do not come to the subcommittee ready-made. Instead, bureaucratic subjects are being constituted in such material arrangements" (p. 119). The material actors in the network construct the subjects and vice versa. ANT is not only 28 useful for looking at materials but also for dissecting discourses. In the second scene, Dugdale dissects a conversation that takes place between different experts on the panel ranging from industry leaders to gynecologists. Dugdale argues that each person on the committee enacts the IUD differently. One enacts IUDs as a system, another as a contraceptive, and as an entity to be constituted by expert knowledge. They are all talking about the same idea of an IUD; however, each person on the panel is performing via conversation what they construct IUDs to be. Our conception of objects is something that is always being negotiated and compromised, oscillating between a singularity and a multiplicity of meaning (p. 125). The third scene looks at the leaflet that the committee has decided to distribute to women looking into getting an IUD. The leaflet's strength is that it "…intervenes in all of these IUD orders" (p. 131). All of which suggests that the working of the leaflet and the subject that it produces is not more convergent than the working of the committee, or the object, the IUD. This study shows that my ANT approach, when looking at DAD within the KUTE network, will be an effective approach. ANT allows us to see how a new object changes relations between other objects, despite it seeming like background information. In the beginning scene, Dugdale showed how objects can construct subjects, which we will see in the case of software in the upcoming section as well as in my analysis of DAD at KUTE. Cresswell, Worth, and Sheikh (2010) demonstrate ANT's usefulness in understanding technology's role in healthcare. They explain that due to the increasing information technology (IT) infrastructure being employed in modern healthcare systems, ANT is a useful approach when conceptualizing the relationships within a healthcare organization. The authors use the implementation of a new electronic healthcare record 29 system to illustrate their point. They include two figures that attempt to show the different ways researchers can map a network using ANT. The first is a standard network map where lines are drawn between each node showing how each object is connected. Where this differs from other network maps is that it includes IT and objects such as "medical equipment" and so forth. Altogether not the most insightful of network maps, it could be beneficial to a researcher who might want a visual element to aid in their understanding and conceptualization of a network. The second figure they use as an example is more compelling because it includes micro and macro contexts (an emphasis on context is one of the strengths of ANT). The diagram is that of a series of bubbles all housed within one another, starting with micro contexts and then moving to macro contexts. The micro contexts, such as Technology, are at the heart of the system including software, paper, and so on, which is then surrounded by human contexts such as doctors, nurses, and managers, followed by Organizational, including super senior management, and then the macro context of The Press, software suppliers, government, and economics. The micro contexts interplay with the macro contexts even though the micro contexts may seem more invisible because of their nonhuman or minimized nature. These types of figures are more beneficial for showing relationships in a network. The other benefit that the authors argue is that ANT "acknowledges multiplicities." They say that social effects "…are assumed not necessarily to have any specific origin but rather to emerge from these multiplicities. It follows that things (or actors, or tools) are what they are depending on the context in which they are embedded and used" (p. 4). ANT is clearly most useful in terms of qualitative research and developing further theories. While Actor Network is labeled a theory, I view it more as a framework since its 30 predictive powers are incredibly broad. As illustrated by this article, ANT will be very useful for framing how we look at technology's role within the KUTE organization. In Chapter 3, ANT and the lessons of current Software Studies literature will inform our understanding of the other two theories that will be implemented: Social Construction, with regard to policy, and The Componential Theory of Creativity. Software Studies The software studies perspective for my research will be useful when looking at how DAD affects the KUTE relational network, how technology is shaped, and how it shapes us. To illustrate how technology, and more specifically, software, are both constructed and have power to construct, I go to one of the more inventive minds in the software studies world, Mathew Fuller and his 2003 book, Behind the Blip: Essays on the Culture of Software. The book is filled with quirky ways for both visualizing and experiencing computer interfaces, but there are two essays that will be very vital to my analysis of the DAD software. The first is in the short essay "Break The Law of Information: Notes on Search Engines and Natural Selection." Though not the exact lesson intended for the essay, I use it to demonstrate how the intention of the programmer creating software matters. In the essay, Fuller creates a search engine that sort of dupes white supremacists into visiting websites that at first seem to uphold white supremacist values, but then upon further inspection, they are actually making fun of white supremacists. It is difficult to describe Fuller's work as it is often times more art than science and is like telling a funny joke you heard from a friend of a friend that was in its original telling absolutely hysterical but falls flat every time you attempt to re-create it. The point of this example, however, is that software design and programming matter. 31 There is always a human behind what we think is only machine. Though it seems divorced from humanity, software is a product of human values and effort. However, much like policy, which I will be discussing in Chapter 3, software can also construct the subject/user in unforeseen ways. In It Looks like You're Writing A Letter, Fuller asks, "What kind of language is the language of Word?" (p. 146). To illustrate the language of software, Fuller says of Microsoft Word "The templates-sample documents that users can edit to make their own, with their repertoire of ‘elegant fax,' ‘contemporary fax,' ‘formals letter,' and ‘memo'- acknowledge that forgery is the basic form of document produced in the modern office" (p. 146). When we write in Word, we are doing more than writing, we are writing in the language of Word. Word changes what it means to write, how to write, the correct way to spell, and so forth. Software is not neutral and has effects that go beyond what is intended. Those who wrote Word do so for a paycheck and desire to formalize the writing process in the digital world. The changes and effects of this formalizing process are not known; culture informs the creation of the software and then the software itself informs and constructs a new culture. Fuller states, "As we have seen, software is too often reduced to being simply a tool for the achievement of pre-existing, neutrally formulated tasks. Culture becomes an engineering problem" (p. 162). To those creating the DAD radio automation software, the radio DJ culture and product delivery process becomes the engineering problem. If we take Zuboff (1988) and Fuller (2003) seriously, the software and automation affects management and how they view their work force both figuratively and literally since we can now visualize our data. Additionally, in Fuller's view, the software itself and its implementation changes what it means to produce radio content for a DJ. 32 Mackenzie (2006) delves even deeper than software with his book specifically on code. Cutting Code: Software and Sociality looks at code "as a material object, as a means of production, as a human-technical hybrid, as medium of communication, as terrain of political-economic contestation - in short as sociality" (p. 2). My project does not look at code since I do not posses the expertise to read code and DAD does not make its code available. However, what Mackenzie says about code is applicable to software since code is the language that it is built upon. Mackenzie writes about algorithms, gene sequencing, Java, and hackers, but for my purpose, the overall thesis of code being nonneutral is what is key to me. Mackenzie illustrates this similarly to Fuller (2003) through code-as-art saying that "An examination of these works' attempts to make code open-available, visible and legible-suggests that code as a material cannot be disentangled from normas, conventions and structures of authority" (p. 41). These bizarre art projects with names like forkbomb.pl and other code poetry show where humanity and code cut across one another. Mackenzie uses the example of open code and the Linux Kernel to show how different ideologies can merge together to make new programs. Open source software allows for anyone to view code and change code, programs like Linux are more of a collective imagining. Software that is not open source, such as DAD, lends itself to a new type of coded ideology; it is not a product of collective imagination, though it is made by a collection of programmers, but as a formalized closed and hidden process. DAD software seeks to create professional DJs just as DAD itself is created in a professional closed sphere. Mackenzie's 2006 book serves to show that not even the building blocks of software are inherently logical or unbiased. Code and software cuts through our society and culture just as our society and culture cuts through code. 33 While the ANT review argued for more scholarship and nuanced approaches to talking about technology, it is worth mentioning that in addition to the examples of software studies research cited above, there is a further call for additional scholarship to be done specifically in regard to software. Looking at technology in general is fine and dandy but "Software is everything. In the history of human technology, nothing has become as essential as fast as software" (Fishman, 1996). Though their book Code/Space is primarily a piece on code studies, authors Kitchin and Dodge (2011) come to the conclusion that there needs to be more scholarship in the area of software studies. They state, "As a consequence, the nature of software and its work in the world is urgently in need of serious and sustained intellectual attention from a critical social scientific perspective" (p. 260). This provides further legitimacy to my claim that this study on DAD and KUTE is important both practically and in terms of scholarship. Additionally, it sets the stage for my method, approach, and analysis as a critical researcher. This literature review shows the critical software studies approach I am taking in this study is not only useful for getting the perspective needed to interrogate the software's role in the organization, but also necessary as argued by Kitchin and Dodge (2011). With this understanding, we can evaluate, as other scholars have, the relationship between the reasons we create or implement software and how that software in turn constructs individuals and organizations. Actor-Network is the guiding framework for conceptualizing these relationships in an organizational network that is consistent with other scholars who argue that it is effective for dealing with technological implementation (Creswell et al., 2010). 34 DAD: Function and Dysfunction I think our staff shirt this year should say ‘I have DADdy issues' on the back. - Alexis Alexis's statement was made during a director's meeting and received huge laughs from the often lighthearted and comical directors staff. The rest of the staff then proceeded to riff on the joke; it was clear that there was a lot of reality to the comment, not to mention the hilarity of an automation software called DAD being used to reign in a free and youthful college radio station. DAD was newly implemented and, as with most technologies, is finicky, but the DADdy issues are no longer novel but rather a weekly-expected hurdle. The current conversations have lost a lot of their humor and instead are realist and exhausted. To answer RQ1 and begin our inquiry into RQ2 we must discover the language of DAD. To do this we first need to know exactly what DAD is and what DAD does. Additionally, the events surrounding the DAD software take place over the course of more than a year starting in 2013 when management first began to make the switch. Though I was present during this time, I depend on the memories of current staff at KUTE so I can understand how they understood the implementation of DAD. The understanding of DAD stretches between two managerial regimes at KUTE, 2013 to early-2014 and mid-2014 to early 2015. The understanding of DAD between these two time periods differs and is discussed further in Chapter 3 with respect to the policies enforced between the two regimes. Digital Automated Delivery (DAD) is automation software developed by the company ENCO. ENCO releases version numbers in conjunction with the year it was created rather than version numbers that catalog major changes. KUTE uses the 2013 version, which is essentially indistinguishable from the 2015 version for the purposes of 35 this study. The software interface looks similar to an iTunes playlist that was made by Fisher Price with large colorful buttons (Figure 1). Though the interface is incredibly ugly, it serves the purpose of making things eye popping and theoretically easier to use. The first step in using DAD for automation is to build a clock. Clocks dictate what content plays and at what time. For example, KUTE's clocks are segmented into shows and advertisement blocks, and could be set to play indie music during the time block of 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. with soft-branch ad breaks every 30 minutes. Therefore, when the DAD system hits 6 p.m., it first plays a 5-minute block of randomly selected ads and show liners (in house promotions for KUTE shows). Then the system will pull random indie music from the indie music playlist called "cut i.d. range" in the language of DAD, and play the randomly ordered music until 6:30 p.m. where DAD will play another block of ads for 5 minutes, then repeat this process until 9 p.m. when the playlist changes from indie music to hip-hop, and the system pulls from a different playlist of music. The DJ is given a visual of what the system is doing as all the music and ads are displayed in a playlist that counts down to each new event. This allows the DJ to tell what songs to announce and when they need to go off air for an ad and liner break. The next important element of DAD is how playlists work. DJs who work the indie show load up all their music beforehand into the DAD library so it can pull the music out either randomly for the segment or in a certain order if the DJ is in the studio. The process is simple when it works, but there have been many issues with libraries not loading or not accepting certain file formats or, the most interesting of all, since KUTE has a few shows geared for international audiences, certain character packages are not recognized. For example, before dependence on DAD, Chinese 36 Figure 1: DAD Interface students would simply play music directly from an iPod or laptop through an auxiliary input onto the airwaves as opposed to the current state of affairs where songs have to be loaded into DAD with song titles and other meta data, whereby these songs are usually lost since the software does not recognize Chinese characters, making the process to play music increasingly difficult for KUTE DJ's who broadcast Chinese and Japanese music. The pre-DAD dependence workflow was as follows: DJs would come in, plug in their laptops and iPods via an auxiliary cable and play music, sound clips, and effects whenever they wanted. This was very useful for on-the-fly needs of a show. With the current DAD dependence workflow, DJs must first load all of their songs into a DAD library at least 24 hours beforehand as advised by the previous Operations Director. DJs may no longer use the auxiliary cable (I will go further into depth on this aspect in the next chapter). If the DJs want to play any requested music or useful sound clips during their show, they must find the clip (usually via YouTube), download it, convert it, upload it into DAD, and then play it. The turn-around time when everything goes according to plan, and is done by a knowledgeable DJ, takes anywhere between 5-10 minutes. Some 37 DJs consider this to be fast and others consider it to be way too time consuming. For example, when asked about this process, Erica said that she preferred DAD more than the auxiliary cable and DAD "makes it easier." Erica's is not a common opinion compared to most people, such as Carly, who stated after ceasing her show due to the new DAD dependence, "I just wanted to come in and do my show and not use DAD." Carly is the only known case I have found of someone who left the station specifically because of the technical requirements for learning DAD, but then returned because she missed doing her show so much. To explain how this new workflow can be problematic, I will share an event I observed involving Erica, who prefers working with DAD. During Erica's show, she had guests from the faculty at the history department on campus. The pressure was higher than normal since the history department was excited about the interview on KUTE and even sent out emails to various campus outlets telling people to listen in. The audience was more than just Mom, Dad, and whichever friends decided to skip class that day. They had planned on playing and doing an in-depth discussion surrounding Billy Joel's classic "We Didn't Start the Fire," which lists major events during the time period when it was written. All hell broke loose. For an unknown reason, DAD was not loading the playlist made by Erica the night before. She then proceeded to do the YouTube converting process; however, it still would not import the song into the playlist. Erica was having some real DADdy issues. Since everything else was failing to play the song, Erica opted for the most professional audio option: finding the song on YouTube with her phone and then holding the phone up to the microphone to play the song. Needless to say, it made the organization look very amateur and the sound quality was…lacking. Alternatively, 38 had Erica followed the old protocol and plugged her phone into the auxiliary cable directly, the crisis would have been navigated within a minute. Though Erica still preaches the advantages of DAD, it is clear that the software is not always the best way to get quality work done. You may have noticed I used the term "DAD dependence" in the section above. A limited version of DAD was used before 2013, but it functioned solely to play music when DJs were unable to be in the station. DJs used to have access 24/7 but because of the events and conduct mentioned in Chapter 1, they now only have access during Union Building hours. The software would play random music over the airwaves whenever DJs were not in the station. DJs did not load up music or do their shows through the DAD software. In 2013, the station purchased the upgraded, full-fledged version of the software, which ushered in DAD dependence. Why Does KUTE Use DAD? Now that we know what DAD is, it is time to look at the more interesting and useful question: why does KUTE use DAD? This question proved to be more difficult than I expected. One day when sitting in on Erica and Clara's show, they went to a commercial break and I simply asked point-blank, "Why do you use DAD?" Erica's face looked perplexed, "You know that's a good question" Clara (a new DJ) then said, "All I know is that I have to use it." Erica is one of the old guard and even she, for some reason, was stumped on the question despite being able to talk about it in the above scenario as preferential. I then spoke with Alan, a senior member of the director's staff who had experienced the switch to DAD dependence back when he was a DJ. Alan explained that when the switch was originally explained to him from previous management, they had 39 said it was for professional and logistical reasons. DAD is an industry grade tool and from an educational perspective, it is very valuable to be knowledgeable about the software if one wants to work in radio. For example, Erica attributes her knowledge of DAD obtained from KUTE to her employment at a large local radio station: "it's why I got the job," she said. DJs who experienced the transition like Erica and Alan seemed a tad confused but accepting. However, when I asked the question to new DJ and Media Council member Kyle, he seemed very confident in his answer: "It's great because it's the only way to make money." Before the switch, KUTE did not accept advertising whatsoever. It was not until DAD dependence that KUTE began playing ads because, as Kyle observed, beforehand, there was no reliable way to play advertising consistently and in a scheduled manner. While KUTE does accept advertising now, it is important to state that the amount being generated is incredibly small and that still more than 90% of KUTE's funding comes from student fees. I asked Alan (who, because of his position, has the most authority on this aspect) about the monetary element. Did KUTE implement the software for professional reasons? Was it to manage what kind of content DJs were playing? Was it so they would no longer have to be dependent on the student fees that had been threatened to be taken away back in 90s? Alan explained that, likely, the staff at the time really did do it for professional reasons and to have a better way to see what DJs were doing. However, when I asked Alan if the move to advertisements was an unforeseen consequence of DAD, he said, "With my conspiracy theory hat on, I would not call it an unforeseen consequence." While Alan has to put on his conspiracy hat in order to see it as preplanned, the 40 consensus from the rest of the KUTE DJs and director staff I spoke with (including the Operations Director, whose entire job is managing DAD) is that DAD was implemented for the benefit of the educational experience for the DJ and to make them more marketable in the work place. From my perspective as a researcher, having experienced and observed many conversations with the KUTE staff as well as putting together the history of KUTE in Chapter 1, which no one has done before, and most DJs are unaware of, I would say that Dad was most likely implemented for genuinely professional reasons. The direct implications of the monetary element I believe would have clashed both with the culture and vibe of KUTE as well as the prevalent archetypes in the organization, especially that of the Community Activist. That being said, while it may not have been why KUTE chose to use DAD, it is most definitely an aspect of why KUTE continues to use DAD. Additionally, the purchasing of DAD was a heavy investment for KUTE, so similar to that new bike you bought because you knew that once you made the expensive purchase, you would have to use it to get your money's worth and stave off regret. KUTE, too, must legitimize their purchase of DAD by using it. DAD and the Changing Nature of Work and Creativity Within KUTE Computer-based technologies are not neutral; they embody essential characteristics that are bound to alter the nature of work within our factories and offices, and among workers, professionals, and managers. - Zuboff (1988, p. 7) DAD is software intended for use in the professional radio world. When a student radio station chooses to implement the software, the logic of the software comes along with it. Like it or not, the simple use of the software begins to steer users in a direction synonymous with the software's intent by closing certain doors and opening new ones. 41 "DAD facilitates the opportunity for ads," said Alan, and lo and behold despite this seemingly being contradictory to KUTE's identity, ads slowly found their way in. DAD the technology is not so different from evolution in the biological realm, and much like Malcolm from Jurassic Park who said "life finds a way," and my physics professor who said if there is the opportunity for life, there will eventually be life, with the opportunity for ads there will eventually be ads. The building blocks both biological and technological necessitate the building and creating of something; the building blocks are not neutral; life seeks to live and software will serve its coded purpose. It also changes the expectations of what a student radio DJ is. By implementing the software, management is arguably suggesting that these DJs can and need to be managed, as well as saying that it is the responsibility of the directors staff to monitor and to assure their DJs that they are learning professional skills. The expectations turn and twist from being about doing shows and having fun, to doing it through the lens of the professional. This is not a critique; it is the reality of the software. ANT dictates that when new actors enter a network, it changes the relationship of everything else in the network no matter how disconnected it seems. Much like the computer in an office, the inclusion of DAD makes KUTE seem more legitimate, while subtly changing the purpose of the institution. The KUTE DJ has now been created to a greater extent as a product ready for hire. During my analysis, three themes emerged with regard to how DAD changed work at KUTE: Creativity vs. Professionalism, Time, and Advertisements. Creativity vs. Professionalism Since DAD changes the process of work for DJs, it also changes how DJs are able to be creative. Amabile (2012) (who I will talk about at length in Chapter 3) argues that 42 one of the main elements required for successful creative work to be done is by allowing for Creativity-relevant processes to occur. While DAD does not strip KUTE DJs of Creativity-relevant Processes, it certainly changes how the processes function. During a conversation about the creative role of a DJ, Ben (who was post-DAD dependency) said, "You gotta be creative, sometimes DAD does not work so you have to be creative." Ben's comment implies that DAD, when used properly, can exist as a creative crutch for DJs. Kyle, another newer DJ cited this as a huge benefit of DAD saying, "DAD gives me the freedom to switch off and breathe." There is a discrepancy between how old and new DJs conceptualize the software. Many new DJs view DAD like an aiding crutch where when the shows get tough, they can simply just fade out and turn up DAD, which will play from the autorotation. However, the older DJs like Carol view it as burdensome and annoying, the opposite of an aiding crutch and more of an incredibly difficult hoop to jump through. Carol, who circumvents the use of DAD, once said to me in a candid conversation "Honestly if I had to use DAD I would not do my show. I just don't have the time. I get done with work and class and I don't want to do all the DAD preprogramming". The adherence to DAD up-skills DJ's technical skills; however, it de-skills their creative performances. Alan explained to me that he felt that the software "changed the DJ in a dramatic way" creating more pressure from higher-ups and the software itself and "hindered spontaneous creativity." During a live radio performance, improvisation is key to compelling content. Much like our everyday lives, radio depends on improvisation to create an organic dynamic. That is not to say that a radio DJ should not be prepared, but much like any good interviewer, they start with their outline and then follow the story and 43 conversation wherever it may lead them. They improvise new, contextually relevant questions that create an atmosphere where anything can happen. When DAD fails, DJs are forced to depend on themselves like they did pre-DAD dependency. They have to improvise conversation and music, which creates an entirely new flow and product. This also creates a more organic and arguably personal experience for the listener. Additionally, it prepares DJs for interactions with call-ins. The professional commercial world has grown more dependent on automation software, fewer DJ personalities exist, and stations are more dependent on producers and preproduced content. This is understandable because these organizations have for-profit models and it is possible to create more consistent content using automation software. KUTE, however, is not commercial radio, it's kickass entertaining community radio that serves to give students the opportunity to spin tunes, speak their mind, and make awesome art. Or, at least, that is what the history, archetypes, and the current staff vibe tell us. We can see how the software itself has changed the expectations of KUTE as an organization. The older DJs sense the conflict between their identity as KUTE DJs and the product DAD requires them to make, where new DJs who have always experienced DAD come to the understanding that they shape their identity to DAD. As stated in Chapter 1, the dominant archetypes at KUTE are those of the Entertainer and Community Activist. Hank, who hosted a morning entertainment theme show that relied heavily on the use of sound clips from commercials and cartoons from the 90s, felt that the software affected his show adversely because he could not play his content on the fly anymore. A lot of the entertainment value of Hank's show was its spontaneity and ability to ebb and flow with what the other hosts brought up in their on-air conversations. When speaking 44 with Ben from The Sports Hoe Down, one thing that he emphasized as being key to his role as an entertainer is the role of freedom. Since Ben hosts what is mostly just a very entertaining talk show, when he speaks of freedom it is in terms of being able to say what he wants when he wants to. This freedom extends to the entire Entertainer archetype. Hank is upset that he cannot be the entertainer he wants to be because his show must now adhere to DAD, which he feels limits his creative freedom, clashing with what he feels is the identity of the KUTE DJ. DAD also complicates the role of DJs who want to use turntables and sampled music. DAD is like a playlist; it can play songs in a row but cannot beat match and provide for an actual turntable DJ set up. Two DJs in particular have run into issues with this: Andrew who plays hip-hop and Luke who plays electronic dance music. Andrew, whose show is titled Yell Opportunity, Demand Action, focuses on playing cool tunes and interacting with members of many communities, but especially that of parents and students who experience bullying. Andrew is most definitely a Community Activist. However, in addition to the content he covers, the live turntable DJ experience has a rich history steeped with its own identifiers with community engagement and entertainment, especially when it comes to hip-hop music (Schloss, 2009). In order to use his DJ equipment, Andrew must circumvent DAD and go directly into the auxiliary input, throwing off station ads and liners. DAD simply does not allow for the live DJ experience identity in the context of KUTE. This also goes for Luke who does not have the community engagement aspect of his show but still gives the live turntable experience to listeners who are theoretically dancing the night away and taking hold of their youth before it fades with graduation and the realization of their futures as corporate 45 sharecroppers begins to set in. Not to mention that the facilitation that DAD provides and the implementation of ads conflicts with the Community Activist archetype as well as Student Radio in general. Time The need for DJs using turntables to respect the standardization of the clock as it plays ads and liners is one of the main ways DAD now dictates action to DJs. In the how DAD functions section above, I mentioned that "clocks" now standardize show formats into fitting neat, 30-minute chunks. The standardization of time brought in by DAD is more than simply a mechanical must but also ushers in the language and ideology of DAD into the KUTE organization. Gehl (2014) explained this phenomena in terms of how modern social media websites are aesthetically and logically formatted to fit neoliberal advertising standards. Like many of the elements of DAD, it may not seem to dictate how it is used; however, as Alan said above, DAD facilitates the opportunity to put its features to use. DAD allows for time standardization through "clocks" and, sure enough, the entire station began to run on DAD's time rather than KUTE's time. Though the material effect of the clocks are mostly a minor annoyance for most DJs, who told me they tire of hearing the same liner and ad blocks over and over, the implicit implications of beginning to use standards, especially the standards set by nonneutral software, are huge. As advertised on ENCO's website "DAD's incredibly rich feature set enables television and radio broadcasters to ensure reliable, accurate delivery of all audio content on time, every time." On time for whom? Why the assurance of a repetition? Like Gehl (2014) argued, this standardization exists for the sake of advertising and monetizing. The implied outcome of DAD is to provide advertisers the guarantee of their content being 46 played consistently. The inclusion of clocks in DAD and the implementation of clocks subtly affect the creative vs. professional tension in the above section. Even if ads were not played at KUTE, the existence of this time format creates the illusion and then realization of the professional workplace and its product. The existence of a clock and standardization also creates new policies that will be discussed in Chapter 3. When a standard is put in place, policy will spring up to deal with those who do not follow the standardization. At first, the clock blocked out 5-minute chunks for nonmonetized advertisements for events and KUTE shows. In a short amount of time, however, the clocks began to bring their true ideology into the station with the eventuality of… Advertisements Once clocks were in place, paid advertisements were not far behind. Alongside the advertisement for Sonya's ad for Insanity Radio came ads from Subway, Biomat, and other people who were willing to shell out a very small amount of dough to get playtime. What is interesting about this process is that even with ads, KUTE's funds still by and large come from student fees. So despite the income from ads being used to pay DJs a stipend (this policy will be discussed in Chapter 3), even that amount is still subsidized by the student fees. The logical assumption is that the benefit of running advertisements is to make money and then pay DJs. However, this amount is so minuscule that it requires subsidization. If ads do not really make that much money, then why is KUTE even running them? We must look to ANT and the lessons of software studies to find our answer. DAD changes the relationships within KUTE and brings new meaning to its users, implicitly and explicitly. Advertising is not just about making money, it's about the act of advertising. DAD is professional, clocks are professional, and advertising is 47 professional. Advertising communicates the new professionalized ideology being inserted into KUTE via DAD. Utility is less important than the legitimating processes of DAD. KUTE creates lots of professional grade work, which is not a problem, but it is now moving toward a professional grade standards process, which is problematic. To be swayed by this flies in the face of much of the ideology of KUTE's past. Moreso than the product, the process is the heart of KUTES ideology (not to mention the process creates the product in many ways). Despite the assuring nature of my talks with KUTE staff that this has yet to happen, it is foreseeable that, like in the professional world, these ads will begin to conflict with the freedom needed for Entertainer type DJs. No longer will DJs be able to riff on Subway and Plasma donation. There will be a protected class on the radio, and that class is the advertisers. The ads that DAD facilitates will lead to more policies of monitoring and discipline that change the creative work environment, which will be expanded upon in Chapter 3. Summary In this chapter, I started by explaining how ANT and Software Studies literature is useful in investigating the capacity of software to be shaped by society and then in turn construct its users. Scholars have argued that this is not only the best way to approach software but also that analyzing artifacts and data in this way is a necessary direction for scholarship to take. I then described in detail what DAD is, how it functioned/dysfunctioned, and the professional assumptions imbedded in the software. After, I explained the thoughts and feelings DJs had about why DAD had been implemented in the first place, which seems to be mostly for professional reasons (changing the identity of the organization and that of the DJ) though it did facilitate the 48 option for advertisements. Using the experiences and conversations I had with KUTE DJs, three themes emerged: creativity vs. professionalism, time, and advertising. I discussed how the software changes the nature of creative work within KUTE and how DJs experience and perform being a DJ. This chapter has answered RQ1 and begun to answer RQ2, while building the necessary framework to complete RQ2 and RQ3 in the next chapter. Now, we move on to Software, Creativity, Policy, and the changing Identity of KUTE DJs. 49 CHAPTER 3 CYBERORGANIZATION: WHERE TECHNOLOGY, POLICY, IDENTITY, AND CREATIVITY MEET This chapter seeks to answer RQ2: How does DAD automation software influence and create new policy? and RQ3: How do DAD management policies construct DJ Identity? It will begin with a review of relevant literature on policy and creativity. Special attention will be paid to the Componential Theory of Creativity and the social constructive nature of policy and its effects on identity. I will conduct a breakdown of relevant DAD-related policies and discuss how it interacts with the identities of KUTE as an organization as well as its DJs. Finally, I will look at the creative nature at play, the creative identity of a DJ, what DAD does to the work process, and how it interplays with creativity. DJs will share stories about their identities, their experience with DAD, new and old policies, and KUTE management. Some are accepting and others perturbed at the changes going on at KUTE. These stories support and illustrate the findings in my analysis. Literature Review Theory Ingram, Schneider, and Deleon (2007) have advocated for the idea that policy has the power to socially construct groups. They contend that new policies can directly affect 50 how society constructs individuals and groups. Because policy is viewed as a legitimate and authoritative set of rules, it can legitimize and de-legitimize groups depending upon which end of a policy they support. Ingram, et al. states that there are four target groups that policies can construct: Advantaged, Deviant, Contender, and Dependent. Advantaged groups are constructed as "… Deserving people important in the political and social hierarchy in general…" (Ingram et al., p.101). According to their matrix, this would include groups like small business owners who are viewed in a positive social light and treated with benefits from the system, i.e., tax breaks and so forth. Deviants, on the other hand, are on the opposite side of the matrix, lack power, and are constructed negatively. Groups that would be considered deviants would be murderers and terrorists. Contenders are groups that have a substantial amount of power in society but are constructed negatively. Examples of contenders would be greedy CEOs, members of Congress, and anyone else whom a quintessential hippy would refer to as "The Man". Dependents, on the other hand, are viewed positively but have little power. Dependents are children, the poor, and so forth. Groups do not need to belong solely to one side of the matrix but can exist between each area depending on how policy constructs them. For example, drug addicts have been constructed as deviant criminals: they have little power because of their addiction, are viewed as leaching off society, and often their misery is seen as self-inflicted. However, if new policy is implemented that requires drug addicts to go to rehab rather than prison, making them a group in need of help, the group begins to move toward the dependent side of the matrix. This matrix will be useful when applied on an organizational level. Defining where power lies and how employees are constructed is crucial. Once KUTE employees 51 have been mapped on the matrix, we see how new polices implemented in the organization shift DJs position on the matrix. From a managerial perspective, DJs would be put in the dependent group. They are important and are valued within the organization but lack the power of the director position (though they did have a fair bit of autonomy and power at one point). With new DAD-related polices that require more skill but less autonomy and on the fly DJ capabilities, those who continue to do their shows as they did in the past without adhering to the DAD polices are constructed more and more as deviants, though their show may be of the same quality or better than before. Currently, the metric for success is changing from show creativity and quality, to compliance with DAD. Formerly great DJs are now constructed as poor DJs because of lack of adherence to DAD policies and procedures, rather than by the quality of their program. The consequences of construction are real and profound according to Schneider and Ingram in their 2005 book Deserving and Entitled Social Constructions and Public Policy. In the context of citizenship, they write, "Policies impact people's ability to fulfill the role expected of knowledgeable, engaged, empathic citizen of the society" (p. 27). In the citizenship context of this section of the book, they argue along with Lipsitz (1995) that large-scale policy has effects that last for generations, especially in the context of White privilege. While my study does not deal with issues of race and White privilege, the literature demonstrates how impactful the constructive nature of policy can be. If we take Ingram, Schneider, and Lipsitz seriously, then the DAD polices being implemented at KUTE will construct and affect DJs and their identities in a serious way at present as well as in the future. The theoretical lens of social construction is an excellent fit for analyzing the new technological policies at KUTE. 52 The model to examine whether or not DJs are in a position to be creative to the fullest extent is Amabile's (2012) Theory of Componential Creativity. Though this theory is more of a model and the most recent version of the theory is fairly new, it has been used in a wide variety of other papers (Deegahawature, 2014; Gabbard, 2014; Yong, Lander & Mannucci, 2013). The 2012 version of the theory is the most recent addition and builds on previous iterations by adding a fourth component. The three previous components are considered individual and contain Domain-relevant Skills, Creativity-relevant Processes, and Task Motivation. Domain-relevant Skills are the baseline skills required in the creative endeavor; for example, in order to write and perform a song, a musician must first possess the technical skills to sing/play guitar and so on, or in our case, a DJ must have the technical skill to operate audio boards and computers. Creativity-relevant Processes focuses on the cognitive styles of the individual. Cognitively, a creative individual needs a personality that is conducive to problem solving, generating ideas, independence, and taking on new perspectives and risks. The creative worker breaks out of the standard performance mold and embraces ambiguity. Task Motivation is powered by an intrinsic desire to problem solve and complete tasks; "People are most creative when they feel motivated primarily by the interest, enjoyment, satisfaction, and challenge of the work itself - and not by extrinsic motivators" (Amabile, 2012, p. 4). The new addition to the theory and only outside nonindividual component to the theory is that of The Social Environment. The Social Environment of the organization has the ability to bolster or block creativity. There are a host of ways work environment can affect creative workers but a few highlighted by Amabile are conservative organizations 53 who harshly criticize employees and avoid taking risks. Conversely, an organization can help by providing freedom to its workers and being idea-focused and collaborative. While all the components will be essential for doing proper analyses of what is going on at KUTE, it is more likely that this research will focus on the last component of Social Environment. Amabile posits "creativity should be highest when an intrinsically motivated person with high domain expertise and high skill in creative thinking works in an environment high in supports for creativity" (p. 3). Now we simply need to see if this is the case at KUTE. Management and Identities Connecting the importance of organizational environment from Amabile (2012) with management techniques of modern times is Bilton and Leary's 2002 article "What can managers do for creativity? Brokering creativity in the creative industries." In the article, Bilton and Leary disagree with the modern conception that management is diametrically opposed to creativity. They posit that if people focus only on the individual and not the external factors that relate to activity, a "creatives' and ‘suits'" dichotomy emerges. These two camps, when taken to their extremes, are incompatible. A creative needs complete autonomy and freedom and a manager's job is to manage. The dynamic between creatives and managers is a problem of communication much of the time as "...much energy is expended on the ‘problem' of communication between the creative department…" (p. 9). Bilton and Leary explain that creativity is a process and a manager's duty is more than just attempting to foster talented workers skills. A manager's role in fostering the creative process is illustrated by creating appropriate motivation. Here, they cite Amabile and argue that managers should not get away from 54 the intrinsic motivation the individual workers have by interrupting, but rather managers should set "strategic targets" and define creative goals without prescribing the means (Amabile, 1998). In addition to motivation, they include risk investment as a way for managers to view their creative workers. Working with creatives is risky and if a manager does not allow and plan for risks, the managers will stifle their productivity. Though it may be hard for managers to do so, taking risks will lead their workforces to greater productivity. These insights will be valuable for my study of the communication of policy and how it affects creative DJs since we can see if these polices allow the directors staff (managers) to take the creative brokerage approach between workers and managers as recommended by Bilton and Leary. Creativity is a very important and growing element of our future economy (Florida, 2006). The growing importance of creativity has led some scholars to insert creativity conscious elements into existing models. Seidel and Rosemann (2008) assert these new creative concerns in their paper "Creativity Management-the New Challenge for BPM4." This article serves to show how important a manager's role is in the creative process. Seidel and Rosemann list a variety of strategies that managers can help with on the "task level," which is very similar to the recommendations made in Bilton and Leary. While similar, the more interesting contributions of their article are the strategies that take place on the process level. They advocate for three process level strategies: Approval Processes, Flexible Process Automation, and Continuous Communication. Approval processes is similar to quality assurance, but since creativity is more 4 Business Process Management. 55 complex than a technical process, it is essential that these approval processes acknowledge the risk elements involved in the situation while still maintaining enough control to be able to sustain business commitments. Flexible process automation suggests that managers create flexible workflows. A software engineering example of this would be to avoid the Waterfall method of management, which is seen as overbearing and over-engineered in favor of Agile management, which has a commitment to risky on the fly work with less reporting to a hierarchy (Rosenberg, 2007). Basically, make sure creatives can be creative with as little process resistance as possible. A worker should not have to see a manager every time they would like to change something. Lastly, continuous communication is essential. Making sure communication channels are fluid ensures that both managers and creative project workers are on the same page and are aware of inevitable risk taking so that there are no surprises. These last two articles have demonstrated how the creative worker and manager relationship is strongly centered around communication and makes this proposed study worthy of looking at from a communication approach. You may be thinking to yourself "Creativity is confusing, wouldn't it just be better to avoid it in favor of some sort of automated process?" In Amabile's 1996 article "Creativity and Innovation in Organizations," she demonstrates that creativity is necessary for innovation. This is the article that would later become her 2012 componential theory; however, in this edition, it was still made up of three components. The paper is largely definitional but the definitions are incredibly helpful and provide us with my favorite quote that describes creativity in a business sense; "Creativity is thinking; it just happens to be thinking that leads to results that we think are great" 56 (Simon, 1966, p. 11). Amabile provides us with some solid definitions to keep in mind when talking about creativity in an organizations sense, "Creativity is the production of novel and useful ideas in any domain" and "Innovation is the implementation of creative ideas within an organization" (p. 1). Though this definition is self-fulfilling since innovation apparently cannot exist without creativity,5 it is still informative to understanding why creativity is important and worthy of study both theoretically and in practice. It also dispels the misconception that creativity is the domain of artists and the arts; it is less about the action and more about the approach and thought behind the action. Amabile concludes the paper with the bones of her componential theory discussed earlier. If policy makers are working within a creative field, it is clear that they must be sensitive to the creative elements at play. Moving away from creativity, we move into the policy and identity element with Wallace's (2003) article Policy and Organizational discourses: Identities offered to Women Workers. The article does a dissection of The National Training Reform Agenda in Australia (NTRA). The NTRA is a policy that encourages organizations to up-skill their workforce through training programs. This was an opportunity for women to get quality training since at the time many women occupied what would be categorized as low skill jobs. Wallace performs a discourse analysis and finds that the managerial discourse is masculine-centric and the application of the NTRA policy within the organizations upheld the masculine norm despite the policy having supposedly huge benefits for undertrained groups like women. For example, at one of the organizations, 5 This is a discussion I will leave for others to hash out. 57 the training that women were allowed to participate in did not contribute to new skills that would allow for upward movement in the organization. "The women surveyed complained of the demeaning training courses, which covered skills in isolation from the specific industry context or covered skills they already possessed" (p. 59). "We get to do a first-aid course if we're lucky. We just do menial little courses" (p. 59). This study shows that, though a policy might seem ironclad, depending on the organizational culture, policies can be used to reinforce certain identities; in this case, it enforces traditional identities for woman. Policy combined with organizational culture cannot only reinforce certain identities but can also be used to construct and tweak existing identities into new ones. In my study, I seek to see how managerial use of certain policies reinforces, tweaks, or changes the identity of the DJ. This management and identity section of the literature review demonstrates a few things. First, there is and has been a conversation in both academia and the professional world on how best to deal with and support creative workers. Second, it shows that there is a tension between creative workers and managers because of their seemingly different objectives. Finally, we see how the relationship between managers, policy, and workers has the capacity to construct identities. I will make the argument that the same constructive powers between policy, manager, and worker exist in the creative workspace at KUTE as well. My study contributes theoretically, since Amabile's theory and social construction is at play, as well as practically for those implementing new software and working in radio. 58 Technology Synthesizing the implications of technology and management methods is Zuboff (1985) with her older, but not dated, article "Automate Informate: The Two Faces of Intelligent Technology." The ideas here would later become her book In the Age of the Smart Machine. What Zuboff argues here is still true today. As technology gives us the capacity to Automate and Informate (create and gather data), we will increasingly do so in our work environments. The most interesting conflict at play in this article is the benefits of informated processes vs. the de-skilling of labor. Zuboff looks at various groups of workers from those working in a clerical setting to those working in manufacturing. For example, one worker states, "Because you are dealing with the tube everyday, you can't beat it. You can't get ahead with it. It's just an inanimate object that stands on your desk and you have to fight it every day. And the tube is going to tally what you have worked… it's like a fight that you cannot win. With the tube you do not have a chance" (p. 13). These workers feel that the new automation is de-skilling the worker in favor of automation (especially in the manufacturing field, simply look at the auto industry). However, on the flip side, this automation provides information and data that can be used to make better business choices and lead to innovation. Simply switch on any cable news network or any popular business magazine found at an airport, and prepare to be bombarded with ads promising "Smart data management," "Data for a better tomorrow," and so on and so forth. Zuboff hit the nail on the head in 1985: everything is becoming automated, everything is becoming informated. This is not just in the organizational world: our phones, for instance, collect data on our personal fitness levels and spit out data charts on how to live healthier lives. At the end of the article, Zuboff 59 gives out a warning that sounds as though it is directed precisely at KUTE because of its current transitional stage. That managers may give themselves over to this dream out of inertia or convenience rather than cogent analysis is all the more disturbing. Organizations that take steps toward a purely automating strategy can set a course that is not easily reversed. The message communicated to the work force and the depletion of skills that would be needed in value-adding activities represent losses that are not easily retrieved. (Zuboff, 1985, p. 18) That all being said, this article, like much of the other automation literature, focuses on what I would call noncreative workers. The strength of my study is that it combines the elements of managing creative work through automation technology and the tensions that come along with it, something that has not been looked at in the college radio context. From what preliminary research I have already conducted, it is clear that these tensions are arising. Management staff has implemented this software to provide consistent broadcasting as well as the informatics that it provides. While not de-skilled, since DJs now need new skills to operate the software, there seems to be a perception that the software does take away autonomy, which is critical to the creative process as argued by Amabile and Bilton. KUTE Policies, DAD, and Identity There are five main policies at KUTE that are either a direct consequence of DAD or have been altered by DAD. The first, as Erica explained when I asked her what the DAD policy was, "What do you mean? Use it." The second, as Xandar once said, was " I was taught never to use the aux cord," and as Clara said, "don't use other things." The third was a now defunct DJ point system and stipend program that has now been changed 60 a bit. The fourth is a move to a more fixed format similar to that of industrial radio. Finally, fifth, DAD created some new requirements and a new culture of fear of its inclusion within the Strike System. I spoke with Alan, the station manager, about these conclusions and, for the most part, he agreed with me with the exception of a caveat in policy four regarding the fixed format. I will discuss this further in a later section. Additionally, policy five was something that Alan himself suggested I add to my list. The policies once again are as follows: 1. Use DAD 2. Do not use the auxiliary cable 3. DJ point system and stipend program 4. Semifixed format 5. Strike system For the purpose of this paper, it is important that policy is defined. I will use the following definition "Policies mandate or prohibit behavior; reward, sanction, legitimize and provide inducements for particular behaviors; transfer resources to enable particular types of activities; and define or transfer authority" (Canary, Blevins, & Ghorbani, 2014, p. 52). This definition is a very open interpretation of what policy is and thus suits our needs because the influence of technology is subtle; written policy is not the be-all-end-all of the work place. 1. Use DAD This incredibly simple policy is brought on because the investment in the technology is so large that KUTE must use DAD to validate the investment. Second, the software ushers in the professional skill associated with it and must be used if DJs and the 61 organization hope to reap the benefits of being a more professionalized organization. The policy of using DAD carries with it assumptions about what a DJ is and what powers management has over DJs. When directors implemented DAD, it sent the message that a) KUTE needs to be more like industry; b) DAD is an appropriate management tool for DJs; and c) DJs can be managed and mediated through this software. This has some subtle impacts on identity, but not so much directly from the software as from the idea that additional management is needed for these DJs. The implementation of more policy is just another thing DJs must think about and worry about; it is one more hurdle in their way before being able to get their creative product out into the world. This would not be such a big deal if it were not for the fact that DAD was so insanely complicated. "Anything is better than DAD" Kenny, the marketing director, once said. Zuboff (1988) argues that with the increase of technology, work forces also need to be able to understand it, not feel a victim to it. DJs at KUTE are given very rudimentary understandings of DAD, just enough so they can consistently do their shows. Even the directors staff does not know all the ins and outs of the software and have an operations director whose job is to deal solely with DAD. While this does not directly fly in the face of any of our archetypes, it does clash with the ideal freedom of student radio. It becomes less about the DJ and their art and more about the adherence to rules. 2. Do Not Use the Auxiliary Cable The auxiliary cable allows DJs to plug their audio device directly into the system, circumventing DAD. Previously, the auxiliary cable was the only way to play music over the air. Now, the existence of the Use DAD policy directly spawned the restriction policy over the auxiliary cable. At one point, the auxiliary cable was even taken out of the studio 62 to force DJs to use the DAD system, although DJs would then bring in their own auxiliary cables to circumnavigate DAD. However, the cable was soon reinstalled in the station because of its utility in situations such as Erica's history snafu in Chapter 2. Though the cable was reintroduced, the policy was still that of do not use the cable, which, much like the apple of knowledge in the garden of Eden that must not be eaten even though it's easily obtainable, sends mixed messages to the DJs. If I am not supposed to eat the fruit of the tree, why would God put it here? If I am not supposed to use the auxiliary cable, why did management put it here? "I was taught never to use the auxiliary cable," said Xandar, though he said there seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to why. Much of the creative and identity regarding using DAD rather than the auxiliary cable were discussed in Chapter 2, so I will focus on the change in culture and social environment that this policy ushered in. As Amabile (2012) argued, a positive social environment is key to fostering creative work within an organization. The "do not use the auxiliary cable" policy created a culture of fear within the organization. Alan shared a story with me about his experiences when he was still a DJ. Alan remembers when he would be sitting in the studio conducting his show and he would need to use a song from the internet that was not loaded up into DAD; he would switch over to the auxiliary cable and feel "fear as a DJ". The glass window looking into the studio was no longer something that invited onlookers to check out what performance the DJ was putting on but rather became the window at which he feared the station manager would peer in and see him breaking the rules. This policy not only created a culture of fear that is not conducive to creative work or in line with the archetypal student radio, but also constructs the DJ identity in new ways within the organization and to the 63 directors staff. If we use the Ingram et al. (2007) notion of the social constructive nature of policy and apply it to DJs Carly and former DJ (now station manager) Alan, we can see how this change occurs. Before DAD, Carly, who did not want to do her show because DAD was too time consuming and difficult for her, was a good DJ and would be constructed as a dependent. She was low in power, but thought of in a positive light because she did a great job putting together a good show. Though her show did not change at all in terms of content, because of the auxiliary cable policy, she was now constructed as a deviant. She was low in power within the organization and thought of as a bad actor since she was breaking the rules, despite her show still being great. She, and DJs like her who did good work, were now constructed as problems. Alan, who was able to run his show at the time without being caught using the auxiliary cable at times, was aware that if he was caught, he would no longer be a DJ in good standing and feared being constructed as a deviant. 3. Point and Stipend System The point and stipend system was implemented and executed during Spring of 2014 and no longer exists. After implementation, the station manager changed and no longer supports such a system. Additionally, financially speaking, the organization had to change the system because it was at odds with fair pay for fair work standards at the University. That being said, this policy was a precursor to the current scholarship form of compensation being implemented. As Alan said in Chapter 2, DAD facilitated the opportunity for ads and because of this facilitation, sure enough, ads began to play over the airwaves. The generation of additional funds was then put into a pool that would then be used to pay the once entirely volunteer DJ staff. Before this, DJs had never been paid 64 nor did they expect to be paid. With this newfound cash in hand, the former station manager needed to find a way to fairly distribute the funds because there was only enough money to pay a select number of DJs. In order to decide who got paid and what amount, the former station manager implemented a point system. I was given access to a point sheet left over from the previous year's station manager so I could see exactly how points were distributed. Points were doled out for doing shows and the show's length, DJ conduct, contests, volunteer tabling, meeting attendance, and shows done during unfavorable times such as Spring Break. The points were then added up and the DJs with the most points got the most money; for example, the higher performing DJs could get around $200 and low performing DJs as little as $10. The program had a few problems, however. The first was that it required more monitoring from the station manager and the rest of the directors staff; they had to check on shows and events almost constantly and make sure they were tallying up everyone's efforts, which can be difficult with a staff of more than forty students. The second was that it broke policy on fair work for fair pay, which is not in the scope of this paper, but, effectively, changes have been made to the program where points no longer exist and students are given scholarships rather than cash. Effectively, the implementation is as follows: KUTE adopts DAD, DAD facilitates ads, ads create surplus funds, point system is implemented, and surplus funds go to pay DJs. DAD has facilitated not just the opportunity for ads but also for the payment of DJs, which affects both how work is done as well as how the DJs think of themselves. As Jerry once said, Honestly, I think the best thing we can do is to act like more of a professional media station. That means putting everyone on payroll, not scholarships. If we can treat people like they work here, like this is their job, then we 65 can expect more from them. We can give them deadlines for promotional material, blog posts, podcasts, etc., depending on the show/employee. - Jerry In my view, nothing changes how the DJ is theorized by management more than the point and stipend system. DJs were no longer the good-hearted volunteers they once were; instead, they began to be shaped into employees. From an archetypal view, this does not click with how DJs see themselves and how they act, but rather contradicts it. Though the directors staff has had different opinions on the matter over time, especially Alan who is a proponent of the community and experimental student experience, it is clear that upper management (Student Media Council) finds the idea of employees rather than volunteers preferential. To illustrate this turn, I want to share the story of Henry who did the show with Mark on the weekends. We start in one of the directors meetings; it's a sunny day and the meeting room is hot. The directors staff is jubilant and sarcastic as always, but the spirits are high at this meeting for another reason: it's payday. First the station manager starts by handing out checks to the then directors staff. After the director's cash is doled out, the DJs' turns come next. However, there is a bit of confusion as some DJs have opted out despite earning more than $60. The directors staff thought this was funny and laughed, one saying, "Why would anyone say no to free money?" They then continued the joke about how they must be very privileged DJs since they are declining money. The consensus was that their refusal was humorously absurd. I brought this up with one of the DJs I was speaking with named Henry. Henry then told me that he had thought very hard about declining the money. He wrote me the following message. I thought about declining the money for several reasons: First, I felt they were being untruthful about budget. There was a lot of talk about how KUTE could disappear because we didn't have money, but yet we could afford to start 66 paying people for something that was always volunteer. It just seemed like paying people off/scaring them into thinking that the current direction was the only way to continue existing… Taking students' time6 slots with advertisements just seems unnecessary for a college radio station…I don't know enough about what the budget actually looks like but starting to pay DJs the same semester we start advertising for Subway seem[s] related. And I'd rather have not advertised than get paid. - Henry What I think is interesting here is that Henry focuses on the volunteer aspect of being a DJ; clearly, this element allowed him to have the DJ identity that he wanted, and the introduction of pay changed what he thought the identity of KUTE was. It was becoming too professional. Henry's thoughts here are not paranoia; this did change how certain people on the directors staff saw the DJs. At a later directors staff meeting, members were talking about the troubles they had recruiting DJs to volunteer outside of their own shows, doing tabling events and doing the optional things the directors asked of them. It was then that one burst out saying that since DJs were now being paid, this should not be optional; they need to do what the director's staff says. This payment policy facilitated by the ad revenue DAD now allowed KUTE to construct DJs as employees rather than volunteers, changing their identities from Community Activists and Entertainers who do it for the love, to ones who might be doing it for the cash. While it is unclear whether this really changed the actions of any DJs, what is clear is that there was a shift in the power dynamic between directors and DJs. This all being said, it's worth noting that Henry still took the money. Why would anyone say no to free money? 6 Advertisements never replaced shows, but like I said earlier, it shaved about 5 minutes off the top and bottom of a show. 67 4. Semifixed Format When I spoke with Alan about the Semifixed Format as policy, we had differing opinions. In his words, he thought it was less a policy and more like guidelines; he also called the policy experimental. Though the original idea for the policy was introduced to the previous station manager, he continued with the new policy. While he may see it as a guideline, the semifixed format clearly fits our working definition of policy since it mandates behavior; it mandates that certain types of shows be done at certain times (Figure 2). Figure 2: KUTE Fixed Format 68 Before DAD, the formatting of KUTE shows revolved entirely around the DJs' schedules. At the beginning of a semester, DJs would come to the programming director and say what times they could do their shows and the programming director would check to see if the time slot was open, and if it was, the DJ would get it. There could be heavy metal in the morning, radio theater at midday, or hip-hop at night. The semifixed format, on the other hand, is a bit more structured. Figure 2 is the most recent KUTE schedule, but prior to this year's schedule, there were sections where only certain music could be played. For example, hip-hop shows could only be done on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from noon to 2 p.m., and indie music was only allowed on Tuesday and Thursday from 5-7 p.m. The so-called "Eclectic Weekend" was the only period during the week where DJs could do any kind of show they desired. One of the reasons KUTE was able to make this change was because DAD could now schedule certain types of music for certain times of day. For example, if no one wanted to do hip-hop in the mornings, no problem; using the clock feature in DAD allowed KUTE to play hip-hop music during that time slot without a DJ being present. This is reminiscent of the commercial DJ who is oftentimes just a prerecorded voice that yammers on while the automation software controls the music. The most recent semester does not have the same music break down but rather one focusing on music shows vs. talk shows. This obviously affected DJs who, due to their unpredictable student lifestyles, were not always able to do their specific kind of show at a specific time. But I will delve into that later. As was told to me by a senior staff member of student media, the goal of the semifixed format is to create more consistent programming to build listenership after DJs have moved on. The goal is to be less dependent on DJ personality. 69 It is important to note that the story above about Henry is an outlier in terms of what DJs think about the payment policy; most DJs love getting paid. However, the feelings expressed by Henry with regard to the semifixed format was shared among much of the staff I spoke to. Henry left KUTE on good terms but was very disturbed by the direction in which he felt the organization was headed. I left KUTE because they blocked out time slots and because I could no longer choose an hour of my choice; there was no way for me to do that simultaneously with classes/lab. For example, [you] couldn't sign up for 5 p.m. to 6 p.m. anymore. I had to do 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. - Henry The fixed format not only changed KUTE into being more professional, but it also made the DJ expendable. DJs were reduced to the type of music they played rather than looked at for their quality of work, personality, and identity they espoused. If there was no one able to fill the slot at the certain time with certain content, DAD would take care of it and the DJ could take a hike. 5. Strike system There has been a strike policy at KUTE for as long as any of the current staff can remember. The strike policy is what you would have guessed: three strikes and you are out. Infractions would be things like not showing up to a show, not attending meetings, or any kind of behavioral issues. With the implementation of DAD came DAD-related strikes. The |
| Reference URL | https://collections.lib.utah.edu/ark:/87278/s6wq3c5r |



