Friday, July 10, 2026

SearchResearch (7/10/26): Capture that content... or lose lots of great stuff

 As you know, I’m a researcher… 


… and in my day-to-day work I spend around 5 - 8 hours / day doing online research.  

As a consequence, I end up reading / scanning / sifting / sorting through a lot of material.  And over the past couple of years, I’ve noticed an interesting shift in my notetaking behavior.  


Why you want to capture content: You see, I used to notice something slide past me, and then jot down a quick reminder–maybe a key phrase or something that would let me get back to the original source material.  I usually didn’t write down the URL because I could always just re-search for the thing and get the latest, most up-to-date version.


But that’s not really true anymore.  There are a couple of reasons why I now take notes about everything I want to recall.  



First, there is an illusion of permanence. 


But... The web is fundamentally ephemeral, even though most users treat it as a stable archive.  It is NOT THAT.  Why?  What goes wrong?

  • Link Rot: The sheer decay rate of URLs. Even highly credible sources restructure their sites, drop legacy pages, or go behind paywalls.

  • Content Drift: The page might still exist, but the specific paragraph, image, or data point you found has been quietly edited or removed.

  • Platform Enclosure: Forums, older platforms, or specific social threads disappear entirely when platforms shut down or change their API access.

And then, the mechanisms we use to find information are not consistent over time, making re-doing that search incredibly difficult.

  • Search Ranking Shifts: The query that surfaced that one, perfect, golden link today might bury it on page four next month due to algorithm updates or personalized search histories.

  • The AI/LLM Factor: This is critical right now. Re-finding information in the era of generative AI is uniquely challenging. If a user gets a perfect synthesis from an LLM, trying to reproduce that exact output later is nearly impossible because of the non-deterministic nature of the models.

What this means is that relying on search as an "external hard drive" creates cognitive blind spots.


First, there’s the "Google Effect": We have been conditioned to remember how to find information rather than the information itself. When the pathway degrades, the knowledge is lost entirely.

Second, there’s Context and Query Loss: When you try to re-find something six months later, you rarely remember the exact, highly specific query string you used the first time. You also lose the peripheral context—the "trail of breadcrumbs" that led you there.


Capture as Active Sensemaking

Capturing isn't just about taking notes and hoarding data; it is a fundamental step in the research process.

  • Friction as a Feature: The act of saving a piece of text, taking a screenshot, or logging a citation forces a moment of active engagement.

  • Annotation: A captured piece of information allows you to immediately append your own notes ("Why is this important right now?"). Re-finding strips away this personal context.

Practical Strategies 

  • The "Save it Locally" Rule: Try downloading PDFs, use web clippers, or taking scrolling screenshots rather than just bookmarking URLs. (Or, if you live in the cloud, save it to your personal cloud storage. The point is to keep your captures in a stable place.)

  • Organizing for Future-You: This is key–you’re building and structuring a personal knowledge management (PKM) system. One of the most important things you can do is to NOT create a digital junk drawer.  I always add a quick note about WHY I’m interested in this thing I just captured.  .

The key to building a successful capture habit is ruthlessly eliminating friction. If saving a piece of information takes more than two seconds or breaks the reader's flow, they won't do it.  BUT.. at the same time, you need a little friction to annotate why you’re capturing this.  


Here are a few ways to capture content easily… 

1. Capture the "Full Context" (web pages)

When the layout, images, and surrounding context matter just as much as the text.

  • Print to PDF (Ctrl/Cmd + P): The oldest trick is still one of the most reliable. It freezes the page exactly as it appears, bypasses future paywalls, and creates a universally readable, locally stored file. I do this a lot, always saving the PDF with a file name that tells me what’s salient here. 

  • Use the Wayback Machine Extension ("Save Page Now"): For researchers who need a verifiable, shareable, and citable record of a page before it changes. A single click archives the current state of a public URL to the Internet Archive, generating a permanent link that won't succumb to link rot.

  • Web Clippers (Notion, Evernote, Obsidian): Best for users who already use some kind of Personal Knowledge Management (PKM) system. These browser extensions extract the core text and images, strip away the ads, and dump the content directly into a searchable database. In Chrome I use Web Clipper.  


2. Capturing Screenshots for Data, Quotes, & Charts

I use these methods more than any other, often because I’m on the wrong platform (usually, my phone) specific paragraph, a data visualization, or a fleeting comment in a forum.

  • Native OS Screenshots with OCR: Modern operating systems are incredibly good at reading text inside images (Live Text on macOS, Snipping Tool on Windows). Taking a quick localized screenshot (Cmd+Shift+4 on Mac, Win+Shift+S on Windows) is the fastest way to capture a chart or quote. Because the OS indexes the text, the user can search for the words inside the image months later. I use Snagit on my Mac desktop to grab images of things that interest me.

  • Drag-and-Drop to the Desktop: Highlighting a block of text on a webpage and dragging it directly to the desktop or a folder instantly creates a .txt snippet file on most operating systems. It’s a zero-click way to grab a quote.

  • Screenshots on phones: Learn the screen snapshot shortcut on your phone. For iPhone it’s pressing both top buttons left and right simultaneously; for Android it’s press and hold the Power button and the Volume Down button at the same time. Note that both Android and iPhone let you do this by voice command (“Take a screen snapshot”).  VERY handy.  

3. Capturing the "Un-reproducible" (AI Sessions & Dynamic Content)

With generative AI and highly personalized search algorithms, users must treat their screen as a transient state. You cannot rely on "I'll just ask the AI again later," because the model's non-deterministic nature guarantees a different response.  What’s worse, some platforms (like Facebook or LinkedIn) will sometimes update the screen while you’re doing something else.  You can’t just leave the app and hope that the content will still be there when you come back!  Instead, if you want to capture the whole session, try one of these:  

  • Immediate Export: If an LLM gives a perfect synthesis or a highly specific breakdown, use the platform's native export button (e.g., Export to Docs/PDF) immediately. Do not rely on the platform's chat history, which can be wiped, deprecated, or lost if the account is locked.

  • Prompt + Response Copying: If exporting isn't an option, users should copy both the prompt they used and the result. The prompt is the intellectual work; the result is the product. Both need to be saved together in a local document.

4. Capturing your Mental Model

Captured information is useless if the user forgets why they saved it.

  • The "Forward to Self" Rule: It sounds antiquated, but emailing a link or snippet to yourself with a subject line like RESEARCH: [Topic] - [Why this matters] is very effective. It forces a micro-moment of active sensemaking, and the email inbox acts as a built-in, highly searchable triage system.

  • Add a short label or note: Imagine that you see this captured content in a year… will you still be able to reconstruct why you captured this?  (Pro tip: You’ll find that sometimes you’ll look at a note to yourself and say “what??”--learn from that moment.  Think to yourself, “what would have been enough context to remember why I captured this??” 


Treat your browser and research history like a river, not a library. If you see gold in the water, pan it out immediately. If you walk away, the current will wash it downstream and your content will be lost.  

The keys to building a successful capture habit are: 

(1)  to simplify everything. If saving a piece of information takes more than two seconds or breaks your flow, you won't do it. 

And (2) establish a practice of looking through your notes This will prevent the “digital junk drawer” from forming.  I have a Sunday morning practice where I rigorously look through all of the week’s notes, deleting everything that doesn’t make sense and incorporating the really valuable stuff into the research topics that I’m working on at the moment.  

Capture it, then harvest it.  Don’t let it accumulate (or you’ll have yet another task that you don’t want to do)!  


Keep searching.



Friday, July 3, 2026

SearchResearch (7/3/26): What you need to know about image search (3/3)

 The most important thing to know about image search... 

P/C Gemini. Prompt:
[usually it works, but sometimes it gets it wrong]


... is that Image Search works pretty well, but is not perfect.  One of the skills you have to develop, as a user of online search tools, is to understand their limits.  When does the AI work well, and when does it fail?  

It's pretty easy to find places where Search-by-image doesn't work.  Many of them involve identifying plants.  

I've written about this before here at SearchResearch. What are those plants? What I said then is still true.  Yes, the AI is improving, but it's still not quite perfect.  

You really need to know this, as it's probably going to be this way for a while.  


Here's today's example.  While walking at the Googleplex, I saw a tree with browning leaves.  Here's the photo I took: 


But when I asked Google Lens what this tree was, here's the answer I got... 


Thing is, I know this particular tree REALLY well--I walk past it nearly every day, spring, summer, fall, and winter. I know for certain that this a California Buckeye (Aesculus californica)--you can get all of the details from the authoritative source, CalFlora.  

But Google search-by-image (aka Google Lens) gets it wrong. I can't really blame it because it looks a lot like a California Sycamore (Plantanus racemosa) in its fall foliage.  But it's only early July, so the California Sycamores look like this: 

A California Sycamore at the beginning of June

What Google Lens doesn't know is that California Buckeyes typically brown up and drop their leaves in mid-summer. A quick search for [when do California Buckeye leaves turn brown] gets you to the University of California Master Gardener's page where you can confirm this.  

Google Lens identification got it wrong. 


Another non-botanical example is this beautifully carved slate plaque that I found as part of an art installation.  


I love the texture and the script, but... I can't quite read it!  Have I had a stroke, or is this in some other language? 

Upload the image to Google looking for an analysis.  What IS that text? Here's what Lens tells me... 


This is interesting, but not particularly helpful. 

A trick worth knowing:  You can scroll up a bit in the search window and--lo & behold--a new query box appears!  It will let you ask an additional question of the search: 



That's great!  I asked the obvious question:  [what language is this text?]   Google replied that it was Russian!  

That's a surprise--it doesn't look like Russian to me, but then I don't know what cursive Russian looks like.  

But I do have a Russian friend who reads and writes with fluency. When I asked, she was astounded that I would ask such a silly question.  "Of course this isn't Russian!"  But she DID know about the plaque, telling me that it was part of an art installation and that she knew who the artist was!  (It sometimes pays to ask humans about tricky questions...)    

Turns out that the artist is Sarah Stiles who makes "Cursive Binary" with her handwriting modified by AI.  

Since this doesn't look like Russian, where did Gemini get the idea that this was Russian?  

Well, that's interesting.  If you look at Stiles website, you'll see that she's of Kalmyk heritage.  (That is, from the Republic of Kalmykia, a federal subject of southwestern Russia situated between the Caspian Sea and the lower Volga.)  

I can't prove it, but I suspect there's a bit of AI leakage from the original query image to the question-answering component.  


SearchResearch Lessons 

1. Search still makes mistakes; AI search does too.  Be sure to check your work. Always.  

2. If you ask the AI to go further, it will.. but that's when you're asking for hallucinations to happen. 

3. You need to know what image identification is good at, and what's not good at.  Plants are a difficult case because they often require very close attention to detail in order to tell one apart from another.  The ID might be close, but not quite right. (And as you know, never use AI to identify mushrooms.  This is another case where the fine details really matter.)  

4. Most search-by-image systems don't let you identify people by name.  Of course, your personal content is different. Both Google Photos and Facebook let you identify people in your collection of pix.  

5. Image recognition is really good at commercial products.  Makes sense, since most of the training material is commercial in nature.  Even partial or incomplete images can often be recognized.  




Keep searching! 



Thursday, July 2, 2026

SearchResearch (7/2/26): What you need to know about image search (2/3)

Search by image can literally... 

 

Part of a choir book page from Venice, mid-1300s. P/C Dan. 

... help you understand your world.  Here's a bit of understanding the world that I had just this week.  


This photo shows a piece of a large page taken from a choir book that was taken apart many decades ago.  As a fan of  Early Music, I bought this to capture a bit of the music of the period.  (To hear singing from this kind of score take a listen here.)  

I recognize the 4-line staff (the red lines--modern music notation has 5 lines), and I recognize the Latin text below the notes.  But I'm curious: what is this thing on the far left of the staff?  (The thing that looks like a person with a fat belly, made up from the square notes and a big triangle.)  


The obvious approach is to do a Search-By-Image.  

When I do this, Google tells me that "This image shows stemmed semibreve groups from a 14th-century liturgical manuscript. These musical notations are found on folio 5v of a manuscript in the Bodleian Library." The link to the Bodleian Library takes you to this: 

P/C Bodelian Library
Figure 2. Ave vivens hostia/ Ave vivens hostia/ Organum
(Bodleian Library, lat. liturg. e. 42, fol. 4r).

To understand this, you probably have to go look up what that means. I found that stemmed semibreve groups refer to a specific notation used in 14th-century mensural notation. Instead of representing a single, long whole note, these groups are a series of smaller, subdivided notes (semibreves) strung together and marked by stems and dots to dictate complex rhythms.  

That's great... but it doesn't answer my real question which is what's the big triangle thing?  

I notice that each line of music has a triangle with a square on top, next to a pair of squares that bracket one of the lines (either the 3rd or 4th line).  

I know enough music notation to recognize that the far left edge of the music is where the clef symbol usually goes.  

To find out, I can go into AI mode and ask the question directly about the image: 


This is great and accords with what I already know, but now, of course, let's double check this.  

A quick regular search for [C-clef] leads to several articles about clef notations evolved over the years.  We learn that a C-clef in Gregorian chant notation looks like this (inside the red box):  


That's close, but not quite right.  

Reading further we learn that the F-clef looks like this: 


I also did a search on [mensural notation] and found the Wikipedia article on clefs used in Medieval music notation, with this lovely illustration comparing different clefs, and their evolution over time: 


As you can see, the clef in the original manuscript (at the very top) looks a LOT more like an F clef than a C clef with a decoration.  

In any case, we've resolved the question:  that massive glyph is a clef, showing the singers where the C note was based.  It might be a C clef OR an F clef, but we can leave that to the musicologists to figure out.  We now know what it denotes! 


In a world of music notation that looks like this, with multiple F clefs and a gloriously illuminated intial letter D, it's easy to imagine that the C clef would be transformed to an F clef by the stroke of a monk's pen.  

The "Dragon D" music manuscript. "Deus Omnium" from SC Library.


(Searcher Caution: Bing image search completely messes this up, identifying the original clef image as a piece of Chinese calligraphy.)   


SearchResearch Lesson 

I'll say it again, check your work. Always get a separate source that agrees with your interpretation.  


Keep searching! 


Wednesday, July 1, 2026

SearchResearch (7/1/26): What you need to know about image search (1/3)

 As we've pointed out... 

P/C Gemini [cartoon of young woman looking at mushroom images]


... the only constant in our online world is change. That's VERY true for what kinds of things you can search for, and how you can do the search.  

Today is part 1 of 3 (and I might add more next week!) about how to think about and use image search.  

1. Caution: Search by image is pretty good, but if it's a critical or high-stakes search, double and triple check the identification.  Here's an example. Maybe you've seen this cartoon floating around the internet... 


It makes a really good point. A mushroom is edible, but you didn't ask if was poisonous, did you?  (Yes, I know that in ordinary speech, "edible" implies non-poisonous, but remember that you're talking with an AI that may/may-not share your assumptions.)  

Big important point: DO NOT rely on image search to identify non-poisonous mushrooms. (Or berries, or leaves, or ...)  

Here's an easy example of a misidentification you don't want to experience... 

This is poison oak: 

Poison oak (Toxicodendron pubescens). P/C Dan. Do not touch. 

But on one search-by-image, this was identified as either poison oak OR as a kind of (non-toxic) Boston Ivy (Parthenocissus tricuspidata 'Lowii').  

Here's what Boston Ivy looks like in its red-phase, so you can understand the misidentification.  


You can sit in one of these vines with impunity.  The other will leave you with a wretched rash.  Don't be that person. 


2. (Advanced) You can still use the date operators (before: and after:) with image search.  For instance, if you're looking for the original version of the above cartoon, you'll quickly get overwhelmed.  Asking Gemini to find the original version just doesn't seem to work.  

But you, as a skilled SearchResearcher, can add date restrictions to the search. 


Once you restrict the date by adding it into the search box at the top:   



Once you do this, you'll see something very different.  The AI-drawn cartoon version seems to have been inspired by a pastiche image (published in October, 2025) featuring a real red mushroom and the OpenAI logo. 


If you change the before: date to 2025-12-1 you see the first instances of the "classic" form of the meme: 


I'll let you iterate on all of the dates for the images first published in November, 2025.  The point is that you can still use those date restrictions to help narrow down the date of first publication.  


More tomorrow... 

Keep searching.