Jacob Jones ‘21
Features Editor
Pro-Recorded Lectures
In 1878, the first record player was created. This was the peak of education technology, and no further advances needed to be made past that point. Unfortunately, the Law School does not distribute physical phonograph records to us every week, which would have been my first choice for a recorded lecture method.[1] So instead, we get recorded lectures posted on the interwebs.[2]
Pictured: Frances Denmore (left) recording Blackfoot chief Mountain Chief (right) on a cylinder phonograph for the Bureau of American Ethnology (1916). This is the pinnacle of sound recording technology. Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Have you ever seen that Adam Sandler movie where he gains the power to stop the world around him with a TV remote? Me neither, but I think it’s a cool concept, and I definitely would want that remote.[3] Well, with recorded lectures, you can, indeed, have the power of Adam Sandler in Click (2006), although only to a limited extent.
What powers do you get with this tool of recorded lectures, you ask? Well, for starters, have you ever wanted to rewind ten seconds because your professor is talking impossibly fast? Now you can! Have you ever wanted to make your professor gigantic and make them talk in a deeper voice and more slowly? You can do that too! You can also go in the opposite direction and make your professors smaller and talk fast!
Not only do recorded lectures enable you with special powers, they also disable professors. Ever wanted to not be called on to answer a question in class? Done! Cold-calls are a thing of the past, thanks to this amazing technology we now have. Now your professor can’t see you pick your nose when you’re listening to them! It’s the perfect crime!
Let us also not forget the real power of recorded lectures: You don’t have to interact with human beings. Forget that makeup in the morning, gals, or that hair gel, guys. You don’t even have to put on a shirt. You can eat ice cream for breakfast in bed after waking up at 3 p.m. while learning about torts and stuff. Social norms can go to heck. At the Panopto School of Law, there are no rules.
[1] My second choice would be for the lectures to be provided over a series of TikTok videos, but the Law School has declined comment on my suggestion.
[2] To my one professor who has Zoom classes: I actually do like the class’s Zoom session, please don’t be offended.
[3] First order of business if I had a time-stopping remote: pause the entire world so that I could sleep-in five extra minutes and still be on time for Zoom class.
Christina Luk ‘21
Editor-in-Chief
A Reluctant Defense of Zoom
I have been called by duty to defend the honor of Zoom against the alleged superiority of Panopto lecture recordings. One fanciful observation I would like to make before I proceed is that while the rules of professional responsibility allow one to appeal such a duty when faced with a fundamental disagreement—such as when one finds one’s client’s actions or decisions to be deeply repugnant—the Law Weekly recognizes no such rule.
Anyway. Zoom is clearly the superior of the two services being offered by Law IT for purposes of online learning. One need only to look at the additional software one is strongly encouraged to download and install in the sanctity of one’s personal computer. As reasonable people know, more is better, and therefore more software means a better system and experience. Sure, online lectures may be accessed by some nifty app, but the amount of storage that app takes up is a pittance compared to Zoom’s computational demands.
It’s true that some may complain about connectivity problems, but what is that except to say that Zoom is the most compelling reflection of the problems of our modern day? Zoom is, in microcosm, our lived experiences. Who among us has not worried about the impossibility of true human connection? In a world where we can never be sure if we have been seen or heard, Zoom’s connectivity problems give us something else to focus on. Now, when someone cannot understand us, it is a mechanical failure rather than a personal fault. There is no philosophy or grandeur to Panopto’s connectivity errors, only inconvenience and impotent rage.
As for Zoom’s oppressive watchful eye—the gaze that cannot be avoided or predicted and the digital panopticon—there is a wonderful feature called the off-button. I would encourage anyone who feels the need to change clothes or who wishes to raise from their seated position, having forgotten they did not put on pants, to utilize this clever and remarkable function to its fullest extent. Can Panopto be turned off? Well, yes.
I would be remiss not to mention what some of my peers consider to be Zoom’s greatest strength: the chance to see the adorable pets of our professors and peers. I have mentioned this.
Thus concludes my cogent and sincere defense of Zoom.
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jmj3vq@virginia
cl3eh@virginia.edu