Erm, excuse me, but I think Everybody was here all along

May 22, 2008

It’s taken me a while (and 83 more pages of Here Comes Everybody) to understand my unease with the “technology changes everything” discourse around social media, and now to reach an alternative hypothesis. In my last post I questioned whether the advent of the internet in the place of television could, as Clay Shirky suggests, awaken some kind of latent creativity and collaboration. Could the web really turn the tables on the mass media, humble big corporations and bring about revolutions?

Here Comes Everybody contains a number of such vignettes to back up the case for the technology-led societal shift: the phenomenal accumulation of quality volunteer-contributed content in Wikipedia, British students’ Facebook revolt against changes to their HSBC bank charges, Belarus “flash mob” protests, and so on. Nothing like these things could happen, the story goes, without new tools built on top of mobile phones and the internet.

Except that they could, and did. Because for every story of 21st Century people getting together to achieve something amazing using new technology, there’s a story from history of people who did much the same without the benefit of the world wide web. One of these even gets into Shirky’s book: the 1989 fall of the Berlin Wall and all that it stood for. But to that we might add any number of 20th Century educational movements such as the Workers’ Education Association, student boycotts of Barclays and Nestle in the 1980s, the demonstrations of May 1968 (the same year, by the way, that a contract was awarded to build something called the Arpanet).

These big things, of course, are just the tip of the iceberg. To these we must add countless more localised acts of collaboration and creativity: the village antiques society of which my grandmother was treasurer, the baby-sitting circle where my mum and dad traded nights out with other parents using curtain-rings as currency, countless fanzines photocopied and posted. Sure, it was a little harder to shift ideas around the world, but from what I can recall we mostly managed OK. After all, making and sharing stuff are two of the most defining characteristics of being human.

So how come it still feels like the internet is changing everything? I have a suggestion.

When Clay Shirky talks in his blog post about a massive television-related bender spanning the whole second half of the 20th Century, he’s half right. But it wasn’t the mass of the population that was rendered senseless by the broadcast media - no they kept on creating and collaborating much as people always have. Rather, the intoxication induced by television was mainly in the minds of big business and mass media. Broadcasters and brands became so drunk with the power of pushing content one-way into people’s living rooms that they forgot that their “audience” might be busy doing other things.

It was a wise executive who admitted “I know half my advertising doesn’t work, I just don’t know which half” because the mythical housewife never was waiting patiently for the television to tell her which brand of soap powder to buy. She was too busy chatting to her next-door neighbour while they scrubbed their doorsteps, or making bunting to string along the street on carnival day. But business, the media and government didn’t get that. It was their tragedy that there was no return path. Information flowed in only one direction - away from them - leaving them to revel in their own self-importance.

It’s my contention that the amount of collaboration and creativity in the world is not changing greatly as a result of new communications technologies. There may be a little incremental creation, but mostly it’s substitutional of other activities that have gone on in some shape or other for thousands of years. What has changed is that new technologies make those old activities more visible. All those conversations used to happen in drafty village halls, through the post and over the phone. Now they are on the web for all to search and to see. It’s no longer possible for the mass media and big businesses, or even governments, to imagine that they have it all their own way, because the curtain has been drawn back to reveal just how irrelevant some of them have become.

It’s not so much a case of “Here Comes Everybody”, as of “Everybody Was Here All Along”. People aren’t late to this party, technology and business are. Only by understanding that can traditional organisations have a chance of being welcomed into the conversation. If they come at this change from a technology point of view - thinking that they’re going to instantly enable incremental communications for an amazed and grateful populace - then they’ll likely fail to make the grade. But if they understand that it’s mainly substitutional then they’ll see why their customers set the bar so high.

People have been communicating and interacting for thousands of years without the help of mobile phones and computers. They have developed sophisticated ways of doing so. Social niceties and nuances make their collaborations highly efficient. If you or your business want to be a part of that you’d better first watch and learn. See how natural are the conversations, and how easily people negotiate complex issues of coordination and collaboration. Then try to design tools and talk in a language that matches that quality. Or to put it another way, Here Comes Technology, Late As Usual (but if you sit quietly at the back for a bit Everybody might let you join in).

Update 2 October 2008: David Cushman interviewed Clay Shirky in London and is posting a series of videos at Faster Future, including an answer to my question. Worth a look.

Update 1 November 2008: Simon Collister is not alone. I still haven’t finished my copy either.


Television may be the gin of the information age, but that doesn’t mean the web is pure water

May 13, 2008

Flickr - in the future we will all wear shiny suits and watch bright red televisions

The new media revolutionary in me so much wants to believe Clay Shirky’s “Here Comes Everybody” hypothesis, that the web heralds a new era of mass participation, collaboration and creativity. With our mobile phones and broadband connections we remade society, so that my five-year-old son cannot conceive of a world without the web (”Daddy, if people didn’t have computers, how did they buy things from the Internet,” he once asked.) We are the generation that Changed Everything. How cool is that?

But then my inner history graduate rebels. I’m innately suspicious of anyone who says human behaviour has changed fundamentally. The joy of history is in its humanity, in all the stories that show how our ancestors were ordinary people who laughed, loved, tricked and schemed just like we do today. If Baby Boomers claim they invented sex, just refer them to Roman pottery and the satirical cartoons of the 18th Century.

And so I believe in our bright human future: that so long as people survive, they will behave much like their stone age forebears. The context may be different, but people are people across time and space. And that’s a Good Thing.

So I’m deeply conflicted when, on the blog accompanying his book, Shirky launches a puritanical attack on television as a sink that dissipates our thoughts, and compares it to the socially sedative role of gin in our early industrial revolution cities. The theory goes that:

The transformation from rural to urban life was so sudden, and so wrenching, that the only thing society could do to manage was to drink itself into a stupor for a generation. The stories from that era are amazing– there were gin pushcarts working their way through the streets of London.

And it wasn’t until society woke up from that collective bender that we actually started to get the institutional structures that we associate with the industrial revolution today. Things like public libraries and museums, increasingly broad education for children, elected leaders–a lot of things we like–didn’t happen until having all of those people together stopped seeming like a crisis and started seeming like an asset.

It wasn’t until people started thinking of this as a vast civic surplus, one they could design for rather than just dissipate, that we started to get what we think of now as an industrial society

Television, the dominant mass media of the second half of the 20th Century is our modern-day equivalent of gin. But despair not, for Shirky has us all roused from our stupor by the Internet in all its chaotic glory, millions of Wikipedia edits, captioned cat photos and all.

The fact that Internet users watch less TV has been a commonplace for some time, so Shirky builds on this to show that if everyone watches just a little less TV and participates a little more online, whole new sources of value will be unlocked from our newly productive endeavours. We The Web Users can be morally superior to the Telly Addicts of the past: they consumed, we create.

It’s a great analogy, but I’m suspicious of the conclusion. Why? Because TV watching is not the only thing being edged out to make way for all those hours online. Not only do we watch less TV, we also sleep less and spend less time interacting with our families.

I started to list some things I do less as a result of having the internet:

  • watch tv
  • talk about tv
  • buy magazines
  • phone people up
  • write letters
  • go to the shops
  • go to the library
  • queue to pay bills
  • look out of the window on trains
  • sleep

Now a couple of these things - watching TV, buying magazines - do seem like gin, the one-way attention sink activities, (though as fundamentally social beings, it’s never long before two or more people assembled before a television set are debating and discussing the content, hurling abuse at the screen or fighting over the remote control).

But what about the others?

I now communicate less by phone and letter, and more by email or text. Where’s the cost in that? Well I reckon it’s in the nuances, the tone of voice, the side-tracked conversations, the pictures scribbled in the margins, that just don’t happen so much online. So I’ve substituted some inconvenient but rich communications media for handier, cheaper, but less subtle ones.

I shop online for stuff so I don’t have to go to the shops, and I Google for information so I don’t have to go to the library. So there goes a whole load of opportunities for collaboration - chance meetings with friends, taking my cue subconsciously from what other shoppers are looking at, and so on.

Then there’s the contemplation time. I used to stand in queues, look out of the window, ignore the TV and let my mind wander. Greater efficiency in transactions and communications is squeezing out those times, and I wonder if the quality of my communications is suffering just as their quantity increases. And that’s before the sleep deprivation kicks in, tiredness and drunkenness sharing many symptoms.

So maybe TV was the gin of the information age, but the internet has a way to go before it’s the clean drinking water that will unleash our productivity. Exchanges on online social networks are so far a pale shadow of the sophisticated interactions that happen when people get together in the real world. And whatever the medium, tomorrow’s people are highly likely to remain much like the people we know today: at once creative and lazy, generous and greedy. If attention is a finite resource, so surely is virtue.

The irony that I’m saying this on a blog is not lost on me. And no, I’m not about to retreat to my log cabin with a manual typewriter, but I do believe there are a few things we need to work on. To do that, we need to understand the good and bad stuff we’re leaving behind, as much as the huge potential of the new technology we embrace.

Disclosure: I write this post having made it up to page 99 of Here Comes Everybody. It’s a great, thought-provoking book and I fully expect to revise my opinion by the time I reach the end. Please consider this a review in perpetual beta :)