New Technology
I've got a few new toys around the house -- a
Wii, a
Sling Box, and a
Zune -- but what I'd rather talk about is a new simple (and free!) piece of software: the
Google Browser Sync extension for Firefox, which has had a great effect on the way I've been thinking about personal software lately. Basically, this browser extension allows you to store these things:
- Cookies
- Passwords
- Bookmarks
- History
- Tabs and Windows
So, for example, if you're the kind of person who logs onto more than two or three (or four... or seven) computers in a day, this extension will allow you to store information from session to session. I find this immensely valuable for making my bookmarks portable. I have a list of sites that I visit in the day at work and at night at home, and I'd like that list to be consistent from computer to computer. This achieves that. (And for those whose security alarms go off the second they hear this, note that the data can be encrypted.)
I've been thinking about this extension in conjunction with another one, the
Attention Recorder for Firefox. The idea here is that it captures all the "attention" you are giving to sites in your daily internet browsing. Sounds like Big Brother -- why would you want to do that?! Well, first of all, you have control over that clickstream, no one else does. And maybe you'd like to build a library of stuff you visit over the years. Or another idea, tied to the notion of
attention economy, is that you
own your click stream, and perhaps there should be a way for you to make money from this.
Those are two things I'm into lately -- storage and portability.
While I Was Dreaming
I'm not sure if it's worth comparing Postman's dystopic infolust to Friedman's sanguine globalization, but the contrast is successful in suggesting what
The World Is Flat seems to get right and wrong. In contrast to Postman, Friedman definitely grasps the role of technology on human interaction. And he generally seems to nail the direction business will take in the next decade, by spinning lines that ring with an adapt-or-die motif, such as outlining new business practices "which were less about command and control and more about connecting and collaborating horizontally."
New York Times columnists are obliged to spin buzzwords ("Bobo," anyone?), and "home-sourcing" and "in-sourcing" are as good as any at encapsulating the shifting business landscape.
Where Friedman seems misguided, of course, is in his glee for globalization. Let's try this snippet: "The scale of the global community that is soon going to be able to participate in all sorts of discovery and innovation is something the world has simply never seen before." Since this isn't a political philosophy class, it's probably not the place to dive into this, but I wonder if anyone bothered to suggest a reading of
Empire in advance of all this flattening. Or heck, how about just watching
the Frontline episode on Wal-Mart?
Back to the sociological, it's worth noting how Friedman's reportage on micro-trends (such as the Jet Blue's home-sourcing and McDonalds' remote order-fulfillment) is valuable and interesting -- but so far nothing more than that. It quickly bring to mind the dream of the tele-commuter and the paperless office. As we say back home
1, my dear Friedman, geography continues to matter.
1. Friedman and I are both from Minnesota. Nice guy, but his writing had a little of that
gosh, shucks character to it.
What's New?
I have a pretty great day job: I devise and develop new product idea for a large internet media company. The far edges of my brain get a work-out -- the visualization cortex designs new interfaces, the engineering neurons try to spin prototypes into reality, and the social synapses trigger ideas about how people will use my products to communicate with each other. Hoping to come up with new ideas, my time is spent devouring stories about new products, watching people use the internet, and scribbling little prototypes. I've spent over a decade trying to design products for what people will do next on the internet. And yet, despite years of consideration, I still believe that I know little more than most people about what the Next Big Thing will be. Or, to put it another way, I think everyone knows
approximately what the next big thing will be, but only a select few will create exactly what it looks like.
Sections of today's reading of Roger Fidler's
Mediamorphosis support my thesis. For instance: "When Alexander Graham Bell submitted his patent application for a telephone in 1876, he was no more certain than anyone else how it would be used." Interestingly, his initial thought was that the telephone would be used to broadcast entertainment. Conversely, we get this bit on Marconi regarding the radio: "The idea that people in rural America might one day be able to communicate instantaneously 'through the air' with friends and neighbors, as well as with people in distant lands, was now exciting." So the radio was to be a communication device, while the phone was thought to be a broadcast device. What about TV?
Live broadcasts of sports and news events, entertainment, and political speeches that combined moving images with sound had been anticipated for decades. The development oftelevision was, in fact, a much longer process than most people today realize. It's progenitors and dominant traits can be traced back to the 1830s and the early simultaneous inventions of photography and electric telegraphy.
This suggests that people
sorta kinda know what the future is before it is about to happen. All of this leads me to wonder: what is innovation?
It's difficult to quantify, specifically because innovation includes so many areas, from visual to auditory, mathematical to creative, timeless to historically-dependent, and many more things in between. But to generalize about technology innovation (and communication technology at that), it seems we can establish at least a couple guidelines:
1) We don't always know what exactly an innovation will be used for, but consensus seems to arise around the potential of innovative products.
2) The trajectory is usually right, but the velocity is usually wrong. That is, we tend to know the direction an innovation will take us, but we're bad at determining how fast it will get there.
Vannever Bush's "As We May Think" is rife with examples of both. His prescience on hypertext is amazing, yet his vision of the office computer is Dilbertesque. Not only is he generally right, but you get the feeling that he's summarizing what many people probably thought the 20th century would look like, similar to how William Gibson articulated a plausible vision of the 21st century.
Which brings us to the future. I've written too much already, so let's conclude by quickly listing some of the more obvious consensus views of the future of media:
1)
Everything will be more networked. Between wearable computing and ubiquitous wireless, it seems inevitable that my socks will eventually get an IP address.
2)
Everything will be more public. With the decrease in storage space and the increase of personal media devices (digital cameras, cell phones, etc.), we seem to be breaking down the barriers of public and private, for better or for worse.
3)
Everything will be more collaborative. Wikipedia and other crowd-sourcing trends all point to a hive approach to learning and creating.
4)
Everything will be controllable. "Control of media" is the mantra of the last 15 years.
So what does the future look like? Like
Barbarella, but with more robots. (Kidding.)
Supervening Necessity
Today's readings deal primarily with technological adoption. Stafford and Stafford approach it from a research level with an attempt to introduce social dynamics into traditional thinking about consumer gratification online, while Winston approaches it historically by introducing the notion of "supervening necessity." I like Winston's notion, because it introduces a model to account for the seemingly illogical gaps that occur in adoption.
A well developed model of supervening necessity seems like it could account for everything from the rise of NPR (supervening necessity: traffic congestion) to the success of city magazines (supervening necessity: condo culture). So there are two examples where broad cultural changes affect communication strategies. Could the next step in the process be to identify other major cultural shifts (a mobile citizenry, a lower marriage rate, etc.) and try to develop media strategies around those?