miércoles 29 de febrero de 2012

Data Journalism Awards



If you are into data journalism, visualization, and data infographics you may want to take a look at the Data Journalism Awards. They are organized by the Global Editors Network, the European Journalism Center, and Google. I am happy to see that there are important organizations out there who are willing to invest money and energy in this emerging field.

The submission deadline is April 10th, so there's time. The description for the awards makes them very inviting:

The Data Journalism Awards (DJA) is the first international contest recognising outstanding work in the field of data journalism worldwide.
By recognising outstanding work and editorial excellence in the field of data journalism, the DJA seeks to:

• Contribute to setting high standards and highlighting the best practices in data journalism.
• Demonstrate the value of data journalism among editors and media executives.

They are giving 7,500 euros to the winner on each category, by the way. The ceremony will take place in Paris on May 31st this year.

lunes 27 de febrero de 2012

The challenges of breaking news infographics


The other day I recovered an old article of mine on infographics in times of war. In this post, I would like to relink another one about what's acceptable (and unacceptable) to include in a visual reconstruction of a news story. It is titled 'What Should You Show in a Graphic?', and it was also published by Design, the magazine of the Society for News Design, a few years ago.

Breaking news information graphics have always been a big concern of mine. Even more so now, that I am doing quite a lot of reading on the ethics of visuals in communication, science, and engineering (more about this in the next few months). When Bin Laden was killed in Pakistan, too many infographics of dubious quality, full of eye-candy and fictitious details, were published around the world. That prompted me and my colleague Juan Antonio Giner, a well known media consultant, to write a short manifesto for the Nieman Watchdog website of Harvard University. VisualJournalism has a pretty comprehensive selection of the kind of graphics we saw after the killing.

The main lesson in my old article is easy to remember, and so deeply rooted in classic journalistic principles that it's embarrassing to be forced to remind it to people over and over again: what you don't know, you don't show. Or: you need to have at least one source for every element in the reconstruction of a breaking news story, such as a shooting, a terrorist attack, an accident, or a natural catastrophe. That's it. It's that easy.

Download 'What Should You Show in a Graphic'?

miércoles 22 de febrero de 2012

A book-sized cutaway infographic about Darth Vader

Anecdote: The other day I dropped by the bookstore with my 6-year-old kid. I had mentioned I would buy a book for him —each of us gets one book every week—, whichever one he chose, given that it was not crazily expensive. I was expecting him to pick one we could read together at night, something with cute piggies or bunnies. You get the idea.

Instead, he came back with the book you can see below. He watched the original Star Wars trilogy for the first time a few months ago and Darth Vader is his favorite character. When I asked him why he had chosen a book that doesn't tell a story, he answered: " But this is so cool; I can open Darth Vader's helmet and armor and see what's inside! I can even see his heart and bones!".

Sometimes I wonder why so many kids have such a fascination for entrails and the way they fit together to form structures. Some of us keep that obsession through adulthood; maybe that's why the world can count on having information graphics designers, engineers, architects, doctors (and Spanish inquisitors). Does it happen because we are hardwired for curiosity in the first place?

Those seduced by Evolutionary Psychology could suggest it was natural selection that designed us to like eviscerating stuff as an strategy to get a better understanding of our surroundings. It may be a compelling hypothesis (it's also impossible to test): in the past, those humans who felt the need to open things up and study them carefully were the ones that acquired more knowledge, which is usually related to better chances of survival and gene-spreading mating. But who knows. The fact is that the Darth Vader book-sized infographic is on our shelves now.

And I must admit my six-year old is not the one who takes a look at it more often.






martes 21 de febrero de 2012

'I Will Furnish the War': an old article on infographics in times of conflict

The image above comes from Colin Powell's address to the UN Security Council on February 2003. It was one of the main tools used to build the case for the invasion of Iraq, and one of the most egregious examples of information graphics malfeasance I have ever seen.

It is also a highlight in an article of mine that appeared in Design, the magazine of the Society for News Design, on information graphics during times of war. Its headline uses William Randolph Hearst's famous —and apocryphal, it seems— sentence 'I will furnish the war'.

The article, which you can download here in its original, rough form, was going to be a chapter of a book I started writing back in 2005 titled Visual Journalism; you can even find interviews where I talked about that project, which I never finished. I released portions of it as articles, which I am planning to recover for this site; other parts have been included into The Functional Art, although they have changed quite a lot; and a long section on maps and statistical charts —more than one hundred pages— is waiting in my hard drive until I decide what to do with it. Maybe it will become the core of a future book on cartography and charts for journalists, you never know...

(Other old articles and portions of 'Visual Journalism' will be published soon)

lunes 20 de febrero de 2012

Two beautiful information graphics from 'O Globo'

The Functional Art, as its subtitle suggests, is not just a book about information visualization, but also on information graphics in general. It is true that I have written quite a bit about statistical charts and maps, but the goal of the book is to suggest some basics for a general theory of communication by means of graphical images of any sort, regardless of if they are abstract (charts) or figurative (pictorial representations). In fact, some of my own work in the past has involved traditional art, drawings, and 3D. I love numbers, but I also love a clear, well executed explanatory illustration.

I was thinking about that while revisiting some recent great work by the O Globo, in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I had retrieved two projects published by that respected newspaper when I started writing on the role of aesthetics in graphics. They were made by Alessandro Alvim, assistant editor of the infographics department, and they have a special place in my archive. One is about how the Cristo Redentor was built. The other is on the origins of Brazilian Carnaval. Check them out. Even if you don't understand a word of Portuguese, you can still enjoy them.

The Cristo one has just won a Society for News Design award, by the way. Well deserved.






domingo 19 de febrero de 2012

Montgomery, Rommel, and a map of the Desert War



Yesterday, I decided to take a short break from preparing class materials and translating The Functional Art and went for a walk to a Barnes&Noble store nearby. Browsing the new books and, sometimes, buying one or two is highly relaxing.

On the New Non-Fiction table I saw a book that caught my eye immediately: Monty and Rommel: Parallel Lives by Peter Caddick Adams. I am not that interested in World War II in general, but its African theatre has been an exception since 2002, when I did a project on the 60th anniversary of the Battle of El Alamein for El Mundo. I got hooked by something John Bierman and Colin Smith used for the title of his own account of the Desert War: it was a War Without Hate. Sure, soldiers died, blood was spilled, pain was not spared. But no war crimes were committed, POW were treated decently, and each side showed due respect for its adversaries. There has never been anything like a war between gentlemen, but the Desert War is probably the closest to that ideal.

Moreover, I've always had a weakness for Erwin Rommel. He fought for the wrong cause, but he was never a true Nazi, or so it seems: he refused to deport Jews from France during his tenure there and, when World War II was approaching its end, he was forced to commit suicide after being caught in a conspiracy against Hitler. Rommel was not a saint, and he certainly defended one of the most murderous regimes the world has ever endured, but he was praised by Churchill himself more than once— as a "great general", a true soldier and a patriot. Sometimes fine people fall in the wrong side of history and don't know how to break away, I guess.

Anyway, let's finish the digression. When I put my hands on a history book, the first I take a look at is its maps. Monty and Rommel includes ten, and they are quite neat. One of them and this is going to sound odd is very dear to me. It's a version of the one below, which is low-res and not as great as the book's. The reason I like this kind of display so much is that it is not just a map, but also a bar chart that encodes distances.

The map includes all the main locations of the Desert War between September 1940 and March 1943. Pay attention at the colored bars at the bottom. The first one represents how deep the initial Axis offensive, led by the Italians, was able to advance into Egypt before it was stopped by Archibald Wavell and pushed back to the middle of modern Lybia (that's the second bar).

Rommel took over the Axis forces in Western Africa in March 1941 and, at the head of the newly formed Afrika Korps, he advanced to the border with Egypt again in less than two months. Then, another British offensive drove Rommel back to El Agheila, in the Gulf of Sidra. Rommel reorganized the Afrika Korps and tried for a second time. He reached El Alamein. But he failed and was forced to withdraw.

This back-and-forth game is what maps like the one above depict so simply and so effectively. Besides, for those acquainted with war history, it tells a story of fuel scarcity and long and weak supply lines. Imagine the German Army as a dog with a rope tied around its neck. The other side of the rope is tied to a tree trunk in Tripoli. This rope is the supply line. Now, visualize the British Army the same way, but with the beginning of the rope in Alexandria. The more the dogs tried to move away from their main supply centers, the more the ropes stretched, and the more likely it was the animals got strangled by the tightening knots. That's how the Desert War developed. Until the British dog found out how to get a longer rope: by securing naval dominance in the Mediterranean.

If only this particular map had a scale...

sábado 18 de febrero de 2012

The 'Tabula Peutigeriana' and modern mapmaking




On Friday, while I was translating the chapter on the history of mapmaking ('Here Be Dragons'), I found out that Wikipedia has a super hi-res picture of the Tabula Peutingeriana. As a fan of both visual displays of information and of ancient and medieval history (particularly the transition period between the two, the 'Dark Ages'), I couldn't help but fell prey of nerdy ecstatic joy. The Tabula is a copy of a copy of a road map of the Roman Empire, and it's structure and design rationale reminds me of modern node-based charts, such as Henry Beck's London Underground Map.

I realized that I had read about the Tabula just in two or three histories of Mapmaking, such as this, and this. So I went to Amazon.com and did a basic search. I found a couple of books that look interesting: Rome's World and Travel in the Ancient World. I may take a look at them soon. I am already thinking about what my next book is going to be about, and the Tabula may enjoy a special place in it.