Category Archives: Mostly serious

Alessio Rastani, infocracy and Wikimoku

A man called Alessio Rastani trended all over the internet in the last 48 hours due to a remarkable interview he gave on the BBC. You can read all about it here.

What he talked about isn’t particularly startling – it’s what any slightly cynical or rational person will have observed about the world. It is quite startling that he said it at all, though. As with all these things, banking and dodgy News International journalism and political lobbying and capitalism in general relies on plausible deniability. Even if everybody knows dodgy stuff is going on, as long as nobody actually says it out loud, it’s fine and can continue.

Already rumour is going around that Alessio Rastani is a hoax or prank, a character created by anti-capitalists to stir up trouble/spread awareness. The BBC are stating that he is legit. Even if he isn’t a hoax, though, you can bet there are vested interests drawing up smear campaigns and trying their damnedest right now to undermine his credibility however they can – the corrupt and deceptive economy and society we find ourselves in relies on a kind of global sleight of hand, or a voluntary mass ignorance (or perhaps an obligatory look-the-other-way). When the cogs of the machine start to shine a light on the inner workings, it’s a lot harder to maintain that plausible deniability, and a lot harder to paint capitalism and markets as an uncontrollable, natural force – rather than the man-made, controlled system that it is.

Anyway, this is really just a long, self-indulgent excuse to plug a short story I wrote a few months back. Titled Wikimoku, it’s about the creation of the first truly infocratic society, in which This Kind Of Thing wouldn’t happen. It’s a theme I’d definitely like to expand upon, either in further short stories or perhaps a longer form.

You can read it here. I’d really like to know what you think of it.

Let me be clear: catchphrase rioting

‘Let me be clear’, the current political phrase-du-jour, was used by David Cameron three times today in his riot speech. Including derivations it was used eleven times. I’m beginning to suspect that there’s a correlation here, with clarity gradually dropping as the number of ‘let me be clear’s increases.

There are a fair few things to take issue with in Cameron’s speech (the assumption that politicians are in any way suitable for lecturing on morality; that young thieves deserve severe punishment while political and banking thieves are allowed to return their ill-gotten gains or receive bail outs from the tax payer; that the traditional ‘family’ is some kind of magical panacea; the strawman shoehorning of human rights and health and safety into the debate, all of which are largely irrelevant to the rioting, simply to forward the Tory agenda which is in fact striving for less responsibility; the incorrect and dangerous assumption that safe streets require tougher police without ‘paperwork’ to hold them back; the ridiculous, naive use of the sentence “A concerted, all-out war on gangs and gang culture”, as if that’ll do anything other than encourage them; the relegation of the banking crisis, MPs expenses and phone hacking scandals to a minor footnote at the end, when it’s integral to the problem at hand) but it is the meaningless overuse of ‘let it be clear’ that I find most objectionable.

It’s not just Cameron, of course. In the last few weeks, everybody has started saying it. Reverend Nims Obunge on Newsnight, for example, repeatedly stressed how he wanted to be clear, often making the declaration so many times that he then ran out of time to make his actual point.

‘Let me be clear’ is the new ‘common sense’. If you feel the need to declare that something is ‘common sense’, chances are it isn’t – it’s just you imprinting your personal ideology onto everybody else. Similarly, if you drop ‘let me be clear’ onto the start of every sentence, it’s probably because you’re not being clear, or because you don’t actually have a decent point to make but want to convince everybody otherwise.

Let me be clear: if your point is clear, you don’t need to prefix it with ‘let me be clear’. And if your point isn’t clear, you should rethink or rewrite it, as a catchphrase isn’t going to help.

Deliberate stupefication and why infocracy can save the world

This is a long, rambling post, in which I’m basically working out some ideas as I go. If you’re going to inflict it upon yourself, I suggest having access to a cup of tea and a comfy chair.

Update: This article from today’s Independent basically backs up everything I wrote below. The current power hierarchies are threatened by Twitter and Facebook, and will be attempting to shut them down or control them. Here in the UK they might do it in a slower, more surreptitious way than Egypt’s sudden shutdown, but it’s no less insidious.

Back in October 2009 I posted a rant called The idiot superclass. Inspired by then-recent cases of bigotry and prejudice while in a particularly short tempered mood, I essentially denounced most of the human race as idiotic and self-destructive and accredited any species progress and development to the ‘enlightened few’ that have struggled against 0ur crushing irrational nature since the beginning of time (to be clear, this ‘enlightened few’ definitely did not refer to any particular group – it was intentionally vague).

I’ve now come to the conclusion that most of what I wrote in that article is  incorrect – or, rather, it fails to consider the bigger picture. The key flaw in my theory was to assume that humans are simply predicated to be a bit thick; that we inevitably default towards stupid and counter-productive behaviour, even when our actions are in direct opposition to our own self-interest (hence people actively voting for policies and political parties that will make their lives worse).

So what is it that I missed before? What is it that makes so many people behave so contrary to their own self-interest, and contrary to all sense?

Information is the dividing line. The quality and quantity of information that an individual has access to is what defines them. Absorbing information gives an individual the benefit of independent thought and, crucially, also gives them power over those with less information, who don’t have the tools to stand up for themselves. Information can, of course, be falsified or manipulated, which is why more information is never a bad thing: a surplus of information helps to give context, so that the facts can be triangulated to get a little closer to the truth, and move away from interpretation driven by selfish agendas.

Power is directly linked to the flow of information – or, specifically, control over that flow, and limiting it for others. This is the case for governments, corporations, or any other kind of organisation. In many cases it’s a natural and sensible approach – a private sector company can function efficiently with a strong, defined hierarchy. The military requires a definite structure to work as it does. When run by people with everybody’s best interests in mind, an information-restricted system can work well.

But when it goes bad, it goes really bad. Soldiers willingly fighting for the Nazis. young people thinking that strapping bombs to themselves will actually help their causes. Companies exploiting developing areas of the world, beyond the gaze of regulators, minimum wages and safety concerns. This is made possible by the restricted flow of information. Soldiers can be easily convinced to do anything when their information is restricted. Citizens can be convinced of pretty much anything if you control the propaganda machine, and prevent their access to outside details.

Historically, governments and monarchies have controlled communications. This wasn’t just to maintain power, it was also part of the reason they got power in the first place: as with all things, those that know how to network tend to gain influence. By building networks and controlling who has access, a hierarchy is inevitably created in which the powerful are those with the wider networks.

For most of human history this made a lot of sense. It was a clever way to organise society: in a time when communicating with anybody outside of your village was a technical or physical challenge, it would have been those with effective communications networks that were able to maintain rule of law and structure. Monarchies with extended families, governments split into regions, able to send messages from one area to another relatively quickly. It was a good way to formalise civilisation and avoid anarchy – forming groups and hierarchies must have helped us develop from primitive societies.

As technology developed, societies grew. Trains, telegrams, powered ships, telephones, motor vehicles – they all helped to improve communications, but would always by maintaining the top-down power structure. Communications tools such as television and radio provided one-way conversations, with the station or network calling the shots, and viewers passively absorbing information from either the corporation or government.

The printing press was a big threat to the standard power setup, which is why it was treated with such suspicion – suddenly printed information wasn’t solely controlled by the church or by government, but could be created and mass produced, in theory, by anybody. Wikipedia has a nice section on ‘the Printing Revolution‘.

Except, of course, printing presses still generally remained exclusive to companies, rather than individuals, due to the expensive mechanical equipment required. The same economic restrictions applied to the emerging film industry in the 20th century. While in theory it was available to all, in practice it was very different.

Computers changed things – finally everybody had printing presses in their own homes. Cheap video cameras and digital editing opened up the moving image to anybody that wanted it, especially once the mobile phone hit.

Except there was still no easy way to actually distribute the material. There was still the information firewall of The Publisher, whether it be for magazines or newspapers or books or short films. While creating information was now easy, its actual spread was still controlled by relatively small groups or individuals. This isn’t to say that publishers are inherently bad (or good) – they do of course theoretically perform a very useful service of filtering out all the rubbish so that what is published is the good stuff. And pre-21st century they were absolutely essential.

Then along came the internet. For quite some time nobody really grasped what it could be. The internet takes the printing press and unshackles it from its physical bounds, giving everybody the ability to self-publish, whether it be written word, video or audio.

For those at the top, who have traditionally been in charge, this is a bit of a problem: when your power relies entirely on control of information, what happens when suddenly everybody has equal opportunity to spread information? This is a problem for political and commercial entities. For politicians, suddenly their propaganda and spin machines don’t work so well when people can check information from other resources and instantly publish their results. Companies now have to be more truthful with advertising – and, of course, good and bad word of mouth is vastly more powerful, able to make or break a product. The entertainment industry is particularly prone to panic, as can be seen by its international attempts to increase the power of copyright and clamp down on piracy – actions that often present themselves as something of a desperate death rattle, rather than a seizing of new opportunities. When a song can be mass produced and distributed almost instantly and without restriction, how do you put a value on it? What are the new entertainment models that make sense in the new world?

In the political arena, now that people can communicate with and organise each other, what is the role of government? When people can self-organise and exchange information effortlessly, why do you need an overseer to control things? Even with benevolent governments this is a difficult and no doubt concerning thought.

With more dubiously motivated governments it’s an active threat, a direct attack. We saw the internet play a role in the on-going Arab revolutions, when information distributed by Wikileaks helped to spark uprisings, with the revolutionaries using every tool of modern communications to organise themselves. The role of the internet only became fully apparent when Egypt’s ailing regime tried to pull the plug, presumably fully aware of how much power it was affording the protesters.

The Chinese government has been ahead of the curve on this issue, as it was one of the first to realise how dangerous the internet could be, quickly imposing its nationwide firewall in an attempt to maintain control over information. It seems to have worked relatively well for them.

With supposedly non-authoritarian governments now trying to create their own Great Firewalls, regulating social media and even using tragic natural disasters to achieve their aims, there’s a limited window in which the internet will remain a powerful tool for everybody. In 5-10 years it’ll be neutered, reduced down to a sanctioned and approved list of websites that don’t upset the status quo. Unless, that is, everybody uses this opportunity to change thousands of years of hierarchical dominance.

What’s the alternative? Something I’m particularly interested in is the concept of ‘infocracy’, a term previously used to describe relatively small-scale systems whereby spread of information is prioritised, creating a flatter hierarchy in which everybody has access. An interesting quote from the thrillingly-titled book Issues & trends of information technology management in contemporary organizations (hope that link works) is as follows:

Clawson observes that the industrial revolution generated a shift in the dominant management paradigm from aristocracy to bureaucracy, and he suggests that the information revolution is spawning a similar shift from bureaucracy to infocracy.

Give people access to information and it gives them the ability to govern their own lives.

Extremism occurs for many reasons, but one is that those who are drawn to it only have access to a limited, warped perspective on events. Same goes for those deceived by cults or dodgy TV faith healers. What about people that vote for political parties that are going to do enormous damage to their own country?

In other societies, women are deliberately forbidden an education, preventing them from having the knowledge and insight to govern their own destiny. Such patriarchal societies foster the made-up belief that men should be in charge and are somehow better. The only reason this can happen, the only reason the women let it happen, is because they’re denied the information to make the choice. Even if they’re able to discover the information later in life, it’s usually too late: the mental pathways are already sown, and it’s very difficult to reshape your view of the world.

So many problems are caused or exacerbated by a lack of information. In fact, I’d argue that almost every problem is, at its source, caused by a lack of good information.

Of course, an abundance of information has its own risks as well. It can be overwhelming, or impossible to absorb efficiently. But a collective effort can work, as evidenced by Wikipedia: a project that absolutely should not work according to my ‘idiot superclass’ concept. Wikipedia, thus far, is perhaps the best and biggest example of infocracy, of what can be achieved when everybody is given equal access to information. It’s not flawless, but then neither is any system.

We’re not going to see a gentle, peaceful shift into infocracy. Our societies and power structures are based upon thousands of years of hierarchy based upon restricted information. Inevitably, those in power won’t want to usher in a new era in which everybody is on a more equal level.

What’s really needed is an offshoot: a separate, experimental society running on deep infocratic ideals, without centuries of baggage to deal with. Done properly, I suspect such a society would prosper hugely and be transformative. A demonstration that society can bind itself together differently.

I doubt such a place will exist in my lifetime. So, instead, I’m going to write some fiction and live there by proxy.

Truth, justice and the English way

I will be brief: Paul Chambers is taking his appeal regarding the ‘Twitter Joke Trial’ to the High Court.

To do so is very expensive. At least £10,000 expensive. Unfortunately, to have justice you have to be rich – unless you’ve got most of the online community behind you, of course.

If you enjoy communicating online (or, indeed, offline) with friends and family and would like to retain such freedoms, please do consider donating to his legal fund:

http://cripesonfriday.tumblr.com/

Simon Wright MP calls Twitter Joke Trial ‘ludicrous’

Rather unexpectedly, I found myself in a room at the Millennium Library in Norwich this evening with my friend Wayne Bolt (co-host of the Spiffing Review podcast) talking to Liberal Democrat MP Simon Wright about the Twitter Joke Trial and the Digital Economy Act.

This came about after Wayne noticed that Mr Wright, MP for Norwich South where we live, had several surgeries scheduled over the next few weeks, including one today. We hastily made an appointment, deciding to talk to him while the Twitter Joke Trial was still top news.

Neither of us knew Mr Wright’s stance on the Twitter Joke Trial. During the General Election we established that he was generally opposed to the Digital Economy Bill, but never went into much detail. We were both braced for the possibility of an MP that would defend the CPS, stating that Paul Chambers was an idiot that deserved punishing for tweeting in this environment of danger and terrorism.

“So this is about the ludicrous Twitter conviction?” he announced before we’d even sat down, denying us the opportunity of a satisfying, fist-smashing-on-table rant.

What followed was a brief but encouraging conversation with a politician who seemed to have a good grasp of the issues and discussed eloquently quite diverse topics surrounding both the Twitter Joke Trial and Digital Economy Act.

There didn’t seem to be much convincing to do, so instead we focused on trying to give Mr Wright as many of the facts as possible, elaborating on the origins of the ridiculous law that has encircled Paul Chambers; the straw man argument of using ‘times we live in’ rationale for a law that has nothing to do with terrorism; the impact of this legislation on British culture, business and therefore its economy in the 21st century; the consequent stifling of innovation and pushing of internet businesses abroad; how neither Paul Chambers nor Gareth Compton should be matters for the criminal courts; how web blocking could destroy user generated content and online communities in the UK; and how the global spread of the #twitterjoketrial and #iamspartacus hashtags have turned the United Kingdom into an international laughing stock and object of disbelief.

Wayne even managed to compare the current era to that of the Industrial Revolution, noting how that particular change led to two hundred years of general prosperity for the country and that failing to embrace the Digital Revolution would lead to two hundred years of self-inflicted failure.

Mr Wright has promised to write to the Home Secretary to raise these concerns. I will be contacting Mr Wright this weekend with additional information and links to relevant resources so that he has everything to hand.

If you have any useful links relating to the Twitter Joke Trial or the Digital Economy Act please let me know ASAP so that I can forward them to Simon Wright.

I will, of course, be keeping a close eye on this and will keep you all posted once we get a response from Theresa May’s office.