Technology and Getting A Life

By | November 22, 2011

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Why do I like technology? Well, I don’t, actually. I think back wistfully do the days before computers and my love affair with the typewriter and my newspaper cuttings library (which I still have, weirdly.) But technology isn’t going away, so rejecting it is a bit like rejecting clothing. But if I was being honest, I would say: technology allows us to think hard about the future, to see it more clearly, and to be able to argue with people who are much smarter than us.

Take a column I have just been reading by a guy called Nicholas Carr. He’s a very smart fellow, written a skeptical book about IT called Does IT Matter? and generally says things that are smart. But like a lot of people, he doesn’t always seem to get things. One thing he doesn’t like is the idea that as technology gets more ubiquitous, so does recording our lives get easier. This, he says, in a recent editorial piece in The Guardian, would make Socrates (who said that “the unexamined life is not worth living”) turn over in his grave: “We’re so busy recording our lives that we have little time left to examine them.”

This is the kind of thing that technology users have learned to live with: the nonsense that everyone who uses technology is obsessed by it, and watches as their lives roll by. But like all balderdash it has some truth to it. As parents we seem more determined to plot our child’s progress through the filter of an viewfinder or LCD monitor than to actually absorb the moment through our eyeballs (babies one day are going to start thinking a human face has one big eye on it, one vast rectangular ear and a blinking red light for a nose.) And as I’ve mentioned before, we cubicle wallahs may be forgiven for mistaking virtual lives via our Twitter and instant messaging lists for real ones.

But Nicholas is not really talking about that. He’s talking about things called lifestreams – where we nerds create a digital feed of all the things we’re doing, reading or taking photos of and share it with anyone who’s interested. One or two folk take this a stage further, and walk around with cameras on their head. Or they record on their Twitter page what they’re eating, or write blogs that redefine the notion of boring your audience to tears. (I have read blogs that have had me literally weeping with boredom.)

Now I can understand that non-techies may feel this is a vast waste of time, and can’t think of anyone whose lives they’d want to follow in such excruciating detail. But just because we, and Nicholas Carr, can’t imagine anyone wanting to see or hear or read this deluge of life-data doesn’t mean it’s not going to happen. As with all technologies, we’ll both adapt it to our needs, and adapt to it.

Posterity is a funny thing: We don’t know what it is our future selves and descendants are going to be interested in. A BBC website requesting photos and recollections of the 1970s, for example, found that most British people fondly remembered the strike-induced blackouts. (This is true: I remember looking forward to them because we all slowed down for 10 seconds and Dad told us a story around the fire.) But don’t expect to see any family snaps of that particular aspect of life back then. Unsurprisingly, not many people thought, as they shopped in the flickering gloom of candlelight, “Oo! I should record this for posterity! We’ll look back on these grim days in 30 years’ time with fondness!”

Then take a look at Flickr, or any online photo sharing site and see what people record and share these days. Now, technology allows us not only to see ourselves immediately — no more waiting for the film to come back from the developer, no more tiny digital display that doesn’t let us see much of what we’ve just shot — but also, via 3G and GPS, to share it immediately with anyone else on the planet. Technology, in other words, lets us hold a mirror up to our existence, which we can observe in real time. Socrates wouldn’t be alarmed, he’d be dancing around considering the possibilities.

True, we may not use this mirror as well as we could. A lot of what people record is banal, but who knows what people are going to find interesting about us 30, 50, 300 years down the track? Who knows what we’re going to find interesting about us 10 years down the track? (I’m guessing the lurch in male fashion from long pants to those over-the-knee numbers.) The point is that we’re not just recording our lives because technology allows us to. We’re recording them because we want to. Nicholas Carr thinks this is narcissism. For some it probably is. For others the technology becomes a fence from which to hide behind and not participate. For the rest of us it offers chance to capture and reflect on a life that goes by way too quickly.

At Last, a Zoomable World

By | November 22, 2011

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It’s sometimes hard to get my friends excited about the technology I’m interested in, and that’s often down to the fact that a) the exciting stuff is often a big shift in what that technology can do and b) I’m not good at explaining these things to people, especially in wine bars, for some reason.

Last night, for example, I was trying to get someone excited about the Nokia N95. It’s a good phone, but the thing that most gets me excited is the ability to take good photos (5 megapixel camera) and then immediately upload them to Flickr (or anywhere else) via ShoZu, with a GPS tag attached. I just love that idea because it pulls all these technologies together (camera, phone, GPS, 3.5G connection) and makes something of them:

  • it’s seamless. I don’t need to do anything except say yes when a message pops up answering if the photo I just took should be uploaded
  • it’s instantaneous. As soon as the photo is uploaded it’s visible on Flickr. Anyone who wants to can see what I just saw.
  • it’s physical. Now my photo can be seen in geographical context, or seen on Google Earth, or whatever.

But this is just the start. We’re getting closer to a zoomable world, as imagined by the likes of the late Jef Raskin. Images will become the way we transfer, navigate and access all sorts of data: it’s often easier to navigate through thumbnails than it is through filenames. Think Google Earth using 3Dconnexion’s SpaceNavigator but applied to information. The closest I think we have at the moment is TopicScape. For a sign of what this might look like, check out Microsoft’s photo-based acquisition, SeaDragon, which will make viewing everything, from maps to newspapers, something that we can do on more or less any device. (See Long Zheng’s blog post for a demo at TED, and tools like Widsets for pushing the boundaries of what can be viewed on a small screen.)

The other big change coming that appears in the demo above is that this data will become more meaningful as it’s incorporated into bigger arrangements of data. Instead of us just uploading and tagging/geotagging photos, those photos will help make up 3D maps of the world– check out the BBC/Photosynth gallery in Long’s excellent post on this. Imagine that tied to Google Earth-type environments, and then imagine it time-tagged as well as geo-tagged, and you can see the possibilities. Suddenly every photo we take will fit somewhere into a greater mosaic:

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This is why I think people should buy phones like the N95, because I think these tools — camera, phone, fast connection, GPS, editing features — are going to make ordinary folk much more excited about the content-creating revolution that started with blogs.  

Why I Don’t Work in an Office, Don’t Give Out My Phone Number, and Live in Indonesia

By | November 22, 2011
Great piece from The Guardian’s Technology editor about the dangers of working in an office, having a telephone line and living in a place swarming with bad PR:

Maybe it’s just me, or maybe it’s the swarm of ever-more-desperate people trying to pitch stories about which they either have no clue, or know are dead in the water but are putting themselves through the pain of pitching in order to bill the client. But in a world where we’re turning out ever more meeja studies students, it would help to have some clue about how the minds in the media work. We feed on information, If you haven’t got it, we’ll bite your heads off just to check there isn’t any lurking down there.

World’s Slowest Email?

By | November 22, 2011
Burma (Myanmar) may be in the running for the world’s slowest email: more than four months.

clipped from www.lirneasia.net

LIRNEasia and ISEAS organized an expert forum on ICT indicators in Singapore in March 2007.  On the 26th of January, the Myanmar Ministry of Post and Telecom sent an e-mail to the ISEAS in Singapore, nominating an officer to attend.   That e-mail reached ISEAS yesterday (4th June 2006; more than four months later).

The Future of the Interview

By | November 22, 2011

There’s been a lot of talk about whether interviewees should insist on email interviews with journalists, to avoid their being misquoted, quoted out of context, ambushed with a question they were not ready for or whether an interview took place at all. In short, the likes of Jeff Jarvis of Buzzmachine believe that journalists have exerted power too long by conducting voice interviews and that interviewees are clawing back some control by insisting on email interviews.

This is what I think. I agree the game is too heavily tilted in favor of journalists, many of whom seem to think they have a God-given right to interview anyone they like when they like and on whatever they like. Interviewees decline interviews, they don’t refuse them.

But let’s not throw out the baby with the bathwater. Interviews aren’t just a series of questions. They are

  • an interaction between two or more people, where interviewees can be interrupted, asked to repeat things that are complicated, and where hand gestures and napkin-based demonstrations are part of the menu.
  • an exploration on the part of the journalist of the subject, the person, and anything else that may come up
  • a chance to not only understand but to capture the excitement, character and tone of the interviewee. Great quotes are not just about a fancy expression, but ones that capture the ideas of the story being expressed in the vernacular — short, pithy, eyecatching phrases that stand in beautiful contrast to the prose around it. These quotes, I find, often come outside the usual run of the interview, when the food arrives and the interview shifts to a more informal discussion, or when someone gets up to visit the bathroom. Unpredictable and unguarded, yes, but a good journalist will ensure the quote reflects the more thoroughly articulated points the interviewee has made.

So we should separate up what both sides want to keep and what they should give up. Interviewees fear being misquoted. Fair enough, and there’s no real excuse for this. But as I’ve blathered on about before, there’s being misquoted and being misquoted. Everyone thinks they’ve been misquoted, even if you show them the instant messaging text chat record. When people say they’ve been misquoted more often than not they mean the main idea they wanted to convey wasn’t what the journalist focused on or chose from the interview. That’s tough, but it’s not wrong. And it’s not misquoting.

This is where perhaps the problem lies. When the interviewee talks about control, are they talking about ensuring their words are not distorted, or are they talking about wanting the journalist to take a particular angle. If so, then they have to let go. Everyone has an agenda, and the piece is the journalist’s agenda (or, more likely, their editor’s.) I sometimes have no idea what my agenda/angle is until I’ve started writing, but don’t tell my editors that; they would assume the story is pretty much cut and dried from the get-go (this is what proposals are for.)

This is where interviewees, I think, want to have their cake and eat it. If they want an email interview, they will have just eschewed the opportunity of persuading the journalist of taking the story in another direction, since a journalist is much less likely to be persuaded by the written word than by a face to face interview. So demanding both an email interview and a chance to influence the journalist away from their preconceptions is asking for the impossible. You can’t have both.

What interviewees fear, above all, is the unpredictabilty of the interview. They want to rid themselves of the uncertainty and danger of talking to someone who will consider anything they say fair game. True. It’s unnerving, and I’ve had a taste of it myself in a mild dosage. But that brings me to what I think should happen: Recording.

Take this example from Lawrence Lessig’s blog:

After my debate last week at CISAC (at Google Video here), The Register published a piece (archived) about the event. I’ve received a bunch of angry email about what was reported in that piece. The relevant quotes offered in the Register’s article, however, are not correct.

First, The Register writes that I said: “I have two lives,” he said. “One is in Creative Commons…the other is in litigation against authors.”

In fact, I said: “I have two lives in this. One is leading Creative Commons. And the other [is leading] litigation which is , I’m sure, in conflict with the views of many people about copyright.” Listen to the clip here: mp3, ogg.

I don’t know whether The Register has a retraction to make here, or an apology, or a broadside. I can’t find anything on The Register to indicate they’re considering a response. But I do know Lessig’s version of things, and more importantly, I can listen to a recording of it.

This is what I think interviewees need to do: record their interviews. It’s simple enough, and I am surprised that someone as tech savvy as Jarvis doesn’t do it as a matter of course. It’s not just about defending yourself; sometimes your best ideas come out of a conversation — even one with a journalist.