The ghost in the machine: spatial data, information and knowledge in GIS

It has been a number of years since a paper on geographic information science (GIS)(as opposed to applications) appeared in The Canadian Geographer—a long dry spell or relief from an increasingly technical disciplinary focus, depending on your point of view. For those of you who lean toward the latter perspective this issue serves as an oeuvre to GIS and spatial representation as a way of communicating and integrating data from multiple disciplines. It is also an introduction to a much-changed GIS, one that is increasingly self-reflective. Those readers who have missed reference to GIS in this journal will find a multidimensional, integrative discipline that, perhaps, exceeds their previous expectations for representation and communication. Only a decade ago, circumspection about GIS was rife among geographers (Taylor 1990; Lake 1993; Pickles 1993, 1995). What has changed since then? First, the ability of GIS to incorporate multiple datasets and represent them using multiple epistemologies has extended its utility—and credibility. Second, researchers and academic practitioners have taken a reflexive turn, one permitted by both the sophistication of present-day GIS and a philosophical awakening in the GIS community that was partly galvanized by earlier critiques (Schuurman 2000). What distinguishes this collection of papers as a corpus is their demonstration of GIS—along very different axes—as a form of communication and integration. ‘Communication’ and ‘integration’ are encompassing nouns with which to describe GIS, but they may not go far in promoting its dimensionality without corroboration. A short homily serves this purpose. This is a story of GIS, public policy, earth science, representation, integration and communication—all succinctly packaged. Canada does not have a national groundwater policy or program. Rather, the provinces have jurisdiction over water. The Minister for Natural Resources Canada may ask the Geological Survey of Canada (GSC) for estimates of the total volume of groundwater in Canada—and be referred to the provinces, who have no way of answering the question. They cannot answer for all the usual reasons: there is no budget for the independent collection of groundwater data; there is no infrastructure to model the existing data; and there are few guarantees of the quality of existing data. Indeed, groundwater data are provided by private-water well drillers. In some provinces, such as Ontario and Newfoundland, well drillers are required by law to report well-logs that include location and lithological data to the provincial government. In most provinces, this is done on a voluntary basis. These data form the basis for groundwater management in Canada. Not surprisingly, the quality of the data varies widely. In some cases drillers are highly trained and do an excellent job reporting the lithology. The converse is also true, and ground-truthing is rare. Even locational data are questionable, as few drillers have GPSs. Instead, they report location with reference to local landmarks, and ‘400 m from the barn at the intersection’ is not an overstated example. The lithological data are just as variable, as few provinces have developed fixed classification systems. Well-log data provide an excellent example of the challenges in creating a geospatial data infrastructure. They are also prime candidates for standardization. In the early 1990s, scientists at the GSC teamed up with the Ministry of Environment in Ontario and initiated a project to improve the quality of well-log data for a portion of southern Ontario in the Greater Toronto Area (GTA) known as the Oak Ridges Moraine. Senior hydrogeologist Dr. David Sharpe headed a group of scientists who developed a local classification system based on twelve categories (which can be further subdivided) to standardize the 80+ classifications found in the well records. They added value to the data by combining it with surficial geology and reference data. The only way to integrate these data was to use GIS. Once integrated in GIS, visualization, interpolation and modelling techniques were developed to extract information from the data. GIS became a de facto interdisciplinary medium through which the subsurface could be explored (Russell et al. 1998, 300; Logan et al. 2001, 508). These GIS models have been used in the Walkerton water pollution hearings and as evidence in land-use management decisions in the GTA. Using GIS as an integration medium, data that were initially limited and of poor quality have been improved and integrated and have become the basis for communication with multiple stake-holders. GIS has also become a means to represent multiple epistemological perspectives. Researchers at Simon Fraser University have developed a study to predict future sea-level rises based on historical data. The study draws together data and researchers from multiple disciplines. The project is dependent on GIS for data integration, but also as a way of encouraging the exploration of diverse and even contradictory models of climate change. The papers in this issue speak to the role of this enhanced GIS that I have been describing, but also to the perils of an unabashed embracing of our present technology. They point to the dimensionality of GIS while calling attention to the technical, social and institutional negotiations that accompany its use. GIS has advanced far beyond the disciplinary boundaries of geography. It has become a means of disseminating social and environmental information to a broad public. Daniel Sui and Michael Goodchild present GIS, not as technology or a form of scientific inquiry, but as a way of delivering and receiving spatial information that breaks down previous debates over the value of GIS that have polarized the discipline. Reconceptualizing GIS as media provides a basis for examination how space, people, environment and relationships are represented in GIS. Sui and Goodchild use Marshall McLuhan's law of media to portray GIS as a form of communication that exceeds previous mediums for visualization, and as a means of better understanding the relationship between GIS and society. This paper anticipates the power and pervasiveness of GIS as Internet mapping takes hold and provides a unique analysis of its role as both media and message. GIS as media for delivering spatial information and perspectives is supported by a vast, often unacknowledged digital data infrastructure that extends across multiple agencies, corporations and individuals and is made possible through data-sharing. Digital data libraries are the future repositories of geospatial data, yet their structure, from both a technical and an institutional perspective, has yet to be ensconced. How digital libraries evolve and the extent to which they represent and serve constituent communities is the subject of James Boxall's paper, ‘Geolibraries: geographers, librarians and spatial collaboration’. The role of librarians as custodians and disseminators of spatial data is increasingly challenging as they navigate emerging geospatial data standards, disparate data, national mapping agencies and shifting technologies. The challenges faced by librarians in the Canadian setting are political, institutional and technical. Their resolution will determine levels of geospatial data sustainability and sharing both within Canada and across borders in a wired world. People and politics are often underdeveloped factors in the success or failure of data-sharing initiatives. Francis Harvey's paper develops the premise that the very data-sharing that stocks digital libraries and makes GIS as media possible is dependent not only on technology but on trust between institutions and agencies. National spatial data infrastructures, in this view, are the outcome of institutional trust as much as of collective agreements. Trust is an abstract and elusive concept that is characterized by transparency, scope, conventional practice, membership and other links between agencies or institutions. Ethnographic studies of data-sharing highlight the importance of these informal relationships to the task of data-sharing and coordination. Trust is a key component in the development of geospatial data infrastructure: it provides agencies with the motivation and willingness to participate in this new form of interdisciplinary, data-based knowledge building. But trust alone is an insufficient basis for maintaining a data infrastructure. Geospatial data policies in Canada have differed greatly from those in the US. In this country, copyright to data collected by public agencies has been interpreted as belonging to the Queen. This is in contrast to US policy, which stipulates that government data be made available to the public. There have been a number of repercussions of this pinched data policy in Canada. In his paper, ‘The true cost of spatial data in Canada’, Brian Klinkenberg illustrates how restrictive data policies have led to the marginalization of GIS research and education. Based on this history, he argues for radical changes in the way that data are distributed and used in Canada. Use of geospatial data for research, policy development and advocacy is the mark of a truly disseminated and accessible technology. The use of GIS by nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) and environmental groups for social activism points to the power and scope of the technology to operate with multiple epistemologies and social visions. Public participation GIS (PPGIS) is a way of extending decision-making processes to include groups that may not otherwise be heard in the context of policy development. Recently, NGOs have extended their reach across borders, as they join to protest against the World Trade Organization and the Free Trade Agreement of the Americas. Renée Sieber's paper, ‘Public participation geographic information systems across borders’, documents the ways in which PPGIS is being adopted as a transnational tool with the potential to empower multiple communities in different cultural contexts. Despite attention to GIS as a medium for integrating data and communicating information, GIS (as a system) remains a black box. The term ‘black box’ was coined most famously by Bruno Latour, who used it to describe technologies in which the inner workings are hidden from the user (Latour 1987, 98). In her paper, ‘The open black box: the role of the end-user in GIS integration’, Barbara Poore delves into the nether realm between data, integration strategies and systems development. She argues that in order for GIS to truly accommodate user needs, it must account for a network of systems that includes the natural world, computers, users, data, organizations and software. By focusing on practice rather than rational systems, Poore's paper illustrates some of the ways in which people actually use geospatial data and GIS. Understanding user practices is the basis for re-engineering the black box. Each of the papers in this issue examines GIS from a unique perspective. Ironically, they are united by their lack of attention to algorithmic and technical problems and solutions. This departure may be the mark of a maturing technology. In the early days of GIS development, energy was exclusively and necessarily directed at building the technology. Forty years later, researchers have the luxury of examining social, infrastructural and user perspectives on GIS because it has become a means to integrate and communicate geographical information.

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