Iran, Media, and Democracy

July 9, 2009 by Tim Marco

It’s a mystery to me why more media outlets weren’t doing everything they possibly could to get Clay Shirky to talk about the recent movement in Iran. The mass protests, largely organized through text messages and social media, pretty much exactly followed the script he describes in Here Comes Everybody: a movement comprised of individuals, empowered by new communications technologies, sidesteps relatively stable institutional authority and uses flash mobs to challenge that power. The authorities, unaccustomed to the new power of ‘organizing without organizations’ use tactics of another era (official pronouncements, intimidation, etc.) to quell dissent, but the protests continue, garnering a worldwide audience through new channels (specifically YouTube, with the now-famous Neda video). Regardless of the outcome, traditional sources of power are threatened, demonstrating the influence of many-to-many communication tools.

The fidelity of recent events in Iran to Shirky’s ideas is remarkable, and should serve as notice for more people to pay attention to what he’s said. However, there are several ways of viewing this story that he doesn’t address, and it is tempting to misread what is going on in the world as some great flourishing of democracy. I don’t mean this as a criticism of his work; rather, my intent here is to apply his thinking to a larger context and to argue that these tools are not necessarily as ‘democratic’ as they may first appear.

As a warning, I am by no means an expert in Iran. This post isn’t really about Iran per se, but about the relationship between social media and political, cultural and social systems. But I do believe that the pro-Mousavi movement (more accurately, the American understanding of that movement) is an important learning moment.

So to begin, let me just say that I am not convinced of any electoral regularities in the recent election. That is not to say that I have any particular faith that it was carried out honestly. I am simply unfamiliar with the situation in that country, and have absolutely no way of analyzing the situation. But I am suspicious of the treatment of what is happening by the American press and political structure.

For one thing, it is pretty clear that most everyone has a vested interest in having anyone other than Ahmadinejad in power in Iran. So there’s probably a (subconscious) predisposition to question the legitimacy of his victory. But more importantly, pretty much all of the focus has been on (impressively) large demonstrations in major cities. This focus has been rather unquestioningly used as evidence that the street protest are a symptom of a wide-scale democratic revolution.

Yet Iran is a country of 65 million people, and no matter how large the crowds get, it’s logistically unfathomable that these crowds could ever represent anything more than a relatively small group of passionate supporters. Add to that the compelling narrative and accompanying visual scenes from the street, and you have a recipe for easy misinterpretation.

What I mean by this is that it is extremely difficult (if not impossible) from afar to divine whether what is happening is truly a revolutionary mass movement, or a release of relatively less consequential energy that is the inevitable result of revolutionary new media. The political meaning of these events is far from certain. Do they reflect a real, popular opposition? We cannot say with any certainty.

[Stopping here for a moment, I want to say that the treatment of the protesters has of course been disturbing, and that there have almost certainly been innumerable violations of human rights by the regime. While those are absolutely worthwhile topics, they aren't the focus of this post. I hope that this entry doesn't come across as crassly dispassionate, but I am simply focusing on a separate aspect of what has happened.]

For the sake of argument, assume that the official results in Iran were legitimate. In this scenario, the protests were nothing more than an expression of exasperation at a legitimate defeat. But the protesters are emboldened, and more importantly, politically empowered by the experience. This would occur once the ruling class, fearing similar events in the future, will make concessions to the opposition.

At first glance, that seems like the ideal democratic process in action. But it isn’t, and this isn’t limited to Iran. This should be the lesson of all of this, and it is why I don’t consider myself a technological utopian, nor a libertarian. What we would see in this scenario (and I’m certain we have already/will continue to see in countless other ways) is not simply the empowment of individuals, but the empowerment of certain individuals at the expense of others.

As Shirky (and many others) have noted, many-to-many communications systems allow spontaneous collective action in a way that has never been possible. In theory, this ability is granted to everyone. Yet in practice, this simply isn’t the case. Even in a situation wherein everyone has equal access to these new technologies, not everyone has equal skill nor experience with them. And the determinants of skill and use of social technology are almost certainly not randomly distributed.

We have evidence that (in the United States at least), those who tend to already have power and influence are (perhaps not surprisingly) those most likely to make the most of social media. The upper-middle classes–the most educated and upwardly-mobile citizens–are the most adept at these tools. So in any situation where these tools become a major determinant in social or political influence, these groups almost certainly stand to gain a disparate amount.

Obviously, you can’t coordinate a flash mob of the type Shirky describes without mobile phones and text messaging. But you also can’t do it without social capital. Or an eager, educated base of support. Or any of the countless other nuances and undiscovered factors that are important.

All of this suggests that we have to temper our enthusiasm about the possibilities of social media to create true, democratic change with the realities on the ground. While it is extremely tempting to assume (as would a technological utopian or libertarian) that unleashing these tools will topple injustice and make the world a better, democratic place, the facts do not support this. I am still confident that the net effect will be positive (power for the middle class is, after all, preferable to aristocracy or authoritarianism), but I believe that there is a need to recognize that, as with all media, these tools are not magic bullets.

In Iran, the poor and rural (Ahmadinejad’s base) might very well lose relatively political strength. Similar situations seem likely to crop up throughout the world.

Damnit, Gladwell!

July 6, 2009 by Tim Marco

This week’s New Yorker features a piece by my favorite author, Malcolm Gladwell, discussing Chris Anderson’s new book Free. Unsurprisingly, Gladwell does a far more eloquent, better-thought-out job of critiquing Anderson than I could ever hope to do. In particular, I enjoyed the final paragraph, wherein he points out (as I often have) the Apple paradox. Unlike most companies, Apple has never embraced ‘Free!’, yet it has done extremely well over the past decade, largely by selling intellectual property.

Other highlights:

  • Condescendingly referring to Wired luminaries as ‘technological utopians’.
  • Connecting the famous Lewis Strauss declaration that atomic energy will make electricity ‘too cheap to meter’ to Anderson’s ideas
  • Pointing out the obvious (and mostly unanswered) issue of YouTube’s inability to make money

Basically, you should just read the article yourself. But it got me thinking about a point I want to clarify in my own thinking about this issue. Specifically, the central problem I have with the whole ‘information wants to be free’ notion is that its advocates seem to always assume that there are ways to monetize anything. That it will always be worth the price of hosting content because hosting content is inherently valuable.

That may be the case. But I’m not so sure. As Gladwell helpfully points out, one of the main reasons YouTube doesn’t generate revenue is that most advertisers don’t value being placed next to ‘crap’ videos. And, as we all know, most of what is on YouTube is crap — at least from the point of view of someone trying to sell products. So even if the price of bandwidth and storage does go down to (actual, not effective) zero, and it was capable of being absolutely, 100% free, would it ever be a business model?

Not if there’s not any real, actionable value to be had on those videos.

Increasingly, I am beginning to think that that is the case. If so, whether or not Anderson is correct about the price issue, there is still (as I’ve written) no business model in his ideas. And who will pay for the servers, bandwidth, and professionals necessary to run a non-business business?

Facebook Payments

June 23, 2009 by Tim Marco

Apparently, Facebook has been (semi-)quietly building the infrastructure to allow third-party developers to access its payment system. According to the Financial Times, “the system  will allow users to purchase Facebook “credits”, then use those credits to buy virtual goods from the third-party applications that run on the site, or from Facebook itself… By serving as the payment provider, [Facebook] will capture a percentage of every transaction.”

On this blog and elsewhere, I’ve generally discussed Facebook from the company (and its investor’s) own viewpoint. Continuing in that tradition, I have to say that this is very exciting news. Advertising, I’ve long believed, is unlikely to generate the kind of revenue necessary for social media tools to become sustainable — let alone profitable. By relying on a direct source of revenue (you know, actually commercial transactions) the company seemingly has a much brighter future than an advertising model could ever provide.

But this news is particularly striking to me in a different sense. For third parties, it might provide great opportunities to streamline transactions and gain direct access to over 300 million users worldwide. And this could be significant in a way the FT doesn’t quite seem to grasp.

In the article linked above, the paper suggests that the payment system will allow third parties to ‘monetise on their applications’ on the Facebook website. But the real potential of a payment system is clear when one also considers the Facebook Connect program. Because Facebook connect (via cookies) allows entirely independent websites to recognize users automatically, the payment system will become an instant, attractive alternative to PayPal for both site operators and consumers.

Think about it this way: these days, if you were looking to buy a T-shirt from an online vendor (one you’ve never dealt with before). You would go to the website, pick out the item, type in your credit card info, then billing address, then go through a reCaptcha, and finally you would complete your purchase. But if this site used Facebook Connect (and you had signed up for the payment system), it would literally be one-click shopping.

Of course, this isn’t entirely revolutionary; a few companies (infamously) attempted to create universal internet currencies before the dot-com bubble burst. And individual vendors have very similar systems already in place (Amazon, for example). Yet nothing can compare to the sheer market dominance (and potential ease of implementation for vendors) that Facebook already has.

Perhaps even more interestingly, a successful payment system could provide truly revolutionary data for marketers, retailers and supply chain professionals. It’s hard to even imagine the value of a combination the demographic, psychographic, and behavioral data that Facebook already has with the commercial data it could gather. Conceivably, this could be so valuable that the company could even provide the payment system completely free of charge for both users and vendors (thus making it a far more attractive option).

In short, the payment system, combined with Facebook connect, will allow the company to get one step closer to what it ultimately should become: a provider of absolutely universal avatars. Pretty fascinating, huh?

* * *

In related news, I would be remiss if I didn’t point this out: Comscore says Facebook has surpassed MySpace for US users. It’s cool to see something I’ve seen coming for so long finally happen. As has been painfully obvious to me (and many other observers), Facebook is and always was a vastly superior service. So, kudos to the ‘book for finally getting it done.

One Year

May 21, 2009 by Tim Marco

I just updated my registration for the AsWeNowThink.com domain, which means I’m very close to the one-year anniversary of this blog. It has been an interesting experience for me, and I hope that the few of you who read it have gotten something out of it at one point or another.

This is probably as good a time as any to take stock in what I’ve learned over the past year, as well as look forward to what I hope to learn over the next. Here it goes:

My initial interest in this blog was the social effects of new technology. It began as an outgrowth of my senior thesis in college, which focused on what the example of direct mail in political campaigns could teach us about the potential effects of the new participatory media.

One of the biggest regrets I have about that thesis (and by extension, the first several months of this blog) is that I had done a very poor job of defining and categorizing these technologies. Sometimes I would (quite regrettably) use the phrase ‘Web 2.0′, or ’social networking technologies’. Part of this, I’m sure, was because there really wasn’t (or isn’t) a consensus on how to classify what I’m talking about. But going forward, I want to do a much better job of being as specific as possible when talking about these issues.

Because last year was a presidential election year, I spent a lot of time thinking and writing about presidential politics. With the benefit of hindsight, I would have like to have done a better job differentiating between serious thoughts and complete speculation/brainstorming. Otherwise, I am much more content with this topic than my thoughts on new media.

So what have I learned over the past year? I’d say that there are a few themes I’ve developed and returned to since starting this blog. Here they are (in no particular order):

  • Participatory media (like all media) will have effects on our politics and our society that are largely independent of the content. This idea is nothing more than a re-hashing of McLuhan’s aphorism ‘the medium is the message’, but I came to understand it in an extremely roundabout way, and it has been fascinating to watch it unfold. In concrete terms, I still contend that our newer forms of media will (at least for the time being) tend to provide greater benefit for socially liberal candidates and causes.
  • These media are only effective insofar as they relate to real-world (offline) outcomes. While the blogosphere may drive particular stories by influencing the professional media, we are still far from a position where it is the driving force in politics or life. Too often, bloggers (of all political persuasions) confuse online chatter with real-world buzz. Being a darling to the netroots may be more of a liability than a benefit in many circumstances.
  • Social network sites (especially Facebook) are the most interesting of the participatory media for two reasons: (1) their ubiquity; and (2) the fact that they are directly related to the actual (offline) world.

When I began this blog, I intended to include more reviews (or at least mentions) of books I had been reading as a way of providing context to my thoughts. I didn’t do that nearly as much as I should, so I’ll include here a short list of the books that have most influenced my thinking in the past year:

Each of these books come recommended (and all, of course, have their own weaknesses). I’m interested in seeing what everybody else is reading/has read, so if you get this far in the post, please leave a list (or at least single book) in the comments section.

 Over the course of the next year, I hope to maintain this blog with a little more consistency. I’ve averaged about one post a week, but it’s been more like three posts in one week followed by a dead month. While I’ve written this blog primarily for my own purposes (and occassionally to start conversations with a very limited audience), I’d like to branch out and get better at writing for an audience. This probably isn’t the right venue for this, however, and I’ve got a few ideas of better places.

Looking forward, I want to explore how new media are altering organizing patterns more explicitly. Specifically, I’m intrigued at the possibilites that exist with location-aware smart phones (will we even be calling them ‘phones’ in a year?) . I’ll probably continue to hate on Twitter, and explore other new technologies.

Most importantly, I’m sure I’ll spend way too much time pondering just how awesome it is that we live in the future.

Dark side of the net

May 12, 2009 by Tim Marco

Interesting post on the net.effect blog about some potential concerns about non-centralized organizations. Favorite line:

Why not study how technology helps various nutcases to join forces as well? Wouldn’t this help us draw more insights into technology’s “net effect” (excuse the pun)?

The author specifically mentions the anti-Scientology ‘movement’, but this applies equally well to the (not nearly as awesome as its name) Zeitgeist: The Movie and Loose Change. I’m actually not too familiar with the Project Chanology thing, so if anyone has any clues about what’s behind the hate for Scientology I’d be interested.

(Please don’t read that to mean that I want to know what’s ‘wrong’ with Scientology. I just want to know why that particular ‘movement’ exists. My guess is that it’s probably a combination of unfamiliarity, distaste for Tom Cruise/celebrities, and more than a hint of adolescent anxiety. But why Scientology, and why now? It just doesn’t seem like there are all that many people who have any real direct experience to justify this…)

Interestingly–although unsurprisingly–some of the first few comments on that page were anti-Scientology comments that had little to do with the post.

I guess the real question we should be asking is: how can we differentiate a relatively harmless (albeit annoying) ‘movement’ from something  more? Since our old conceptions of group formation are becoming increasingly irrelevant, we’re not going to have many answers looking forward.

Maybe this question can be asked of any terrorist attack, but I find it particularly troubling when I consider an event like the Tokyo subway attacks. I don’t mean to imply that the ‘Truth Movemen’t or Project Chanology are anything like Aleph, but in terms of government/authority action, it probably isn’t easy to distinguish between them, at least in their early stages.

Just a little reminder that we shouldn’t expect easy organization to make everything better, I guess.

Way late on this one…

May 11, 2009 by Tim Marco

I meant to put this link up a long time ago. It probably speaks for itself.

What I really wanted to say with the previous post

May 5, 2009 by Tim Marco

The most important thing to recognize about the 2008 is not that the Obama campaign was good at using social technology. It was that it was good for using social technology. If future campaigns can’t understand the difference, they don’t stand a chance.

What I’ve been trying to say all along

May 5, 2009 by Tim Marco

Five months ago, I wrote a post entitled Does the Social Web favor anyone in particular? This was a continuation of a long-running stream of thought I’ve had about the relationship between politics and technology. Over the course of several posts, many aborted drafts, and countless unpublished thoughts, I had strained to articulate a single idea: the changes brought about by social technology were not neutral. That is, we shouldn’t expect to see campaigns decided by the same issues or tactics that mattered during the era of TV, or radio, or newspapers, or even pamphlets for that matter.

I struggled to say why this was. I simply didn’t have the theoretical understanding to make sense of what I had seen. So I relied on examples: direct mail helped launch the Reagan Revolution because it was, by its nature, more amenable to conservative causes and candidates. JFK beat Nixon because he looked better on TV. And so on.

Yet the words that had eluded me are so obvious that I cannot believe that it took me so long to make this connection. What I had been trying to articulate was simply the most well-known phrase of Marshall McLuhan: the medium is the message. Read the rest of this entry »

Some More Academic Work

April 28, 2009 by Tim Marco

Continuing in my survey of existing academic work on social network sites, this post will focus on some of the work of Nicole Ellison, Cliff Lampe and charles Steinfield, three professors at Michigan State. Their work is central to much of my thinking, as it provides strong data on the context of use of social network sites. Much of their work draws on survey and interview data from MSU undergrads over the past several years. Although I am not certain, I believe I may have participated in one of these surveys as an undergrad myself.

Note: Each of these articles provide a lot more detail and theoretical models than I could possibly cover in this post. My intention here is to provide a brief overview of the results of each study, not to cover them in-depth. For further information, I would recommend reading the articles themselves.

Their first collaboration, A Face(book) in the Crowd: Soical Searching vs. Social Browsing examines a fundamental issue of SNSs: what users do on such sites. Specifically, they explore whether the primary function of Facebook (as reported by users) is to expand one’s social network by finding new connections or to nurture existing connections by friending offline contacts. They term the two activities ’social browsing’ and ’social searching’, respectively.

As users familiar with Facebook would probably guess, the researchers found that respondents were far more likely to report social searching than social browsing. This provides early evidence (ca. 2006) of what is now abundantly clear: SNSs are distinct from previous forms of online communities in that they more closely mirror the offline world.

There are a few other interesting implications in the study. One is that, in less than two years, Facebook had reached near-ubiquity among MSU undergrads: by their second semester, 95% of students had Facebook profiles, and 69% said they used the site more than 30 minutes a day. Additionally, the researchers found that users (probably correctly) assumed that most users engaged in similar behavior on the site; most believed that their audience was comprised of students and other members of their social network. This finding, the authors suggest, ought to provide a clue when trying to make sense of how users decide to construct their profiles.

Drawing on this work, the authors next wrote A Familiar Face(book): Profile Elements as Signals in an Online Social Network. Here, they analyzed profiles within the (then-) closed MSU network on the site. Using automated scripts, they collected reams of quantitative data in order to test whether the completion of certain fields in the profile (such as high school) would have an independent effect on the number of connections made on the site.

Based on different models, they theorize that different sorts of information will have different effects. For example, the presence of one’s high school should be correlated with a larger number of connections, due to the simplicity of finding former classmates. The effects of other fields is not as clear. For example, would providing information about preferences (such as musical taste) increase the likelihood of friendship?

The findings suggest that populating more fields increases the number of articulated connections on Facebook. Yet the amount of information provided is not strongly associated. Thus, whether a user has filled out a field at all is more important than the detail of information provided. ‘Common referents’, fields such as high school attended, were found to show the strongest correlation with number of friends, which may provide empirical evidence that users are, in fact, articulating actual, offline connections on the site.

The last article that I will cover in this post is The Benefits of Facebook “Friends”: Social Capital and College Students’ Use of Online Social Network Sites. This is probably the most comprehensive and important paper thusfar produced by the authors. Here, they examine the role of Facebook use in the formation and maintenance of offline (that is, real life) social capital. They provide several hypotheses of the relationship between social capital and Facebook use, but for the sake of simplicity it should suffice to say that they believe that instensity of Facebook use should have a positive correlation with respondents’ perceived social capital.

The data support this idea; independent of other relevant factors, users with high intensity of use were more likely to report having larger social networks and greater ties to their community. This was especially true for users who felt less connected to the university community or had low self-esteem. The authors theorize that Facebook (and likely other SNSs) helped lowered the ‘costs’ of initiating connections with others. Students who might otherwise be too timid to approach others have suddenly found an easy way to create and maintain weak social ties.

Off the top of my head

April 26, 2009 by Tim Marco

As someone who generally supports, but is skeptical of, open source software, the social dynamics of things like Linux always interest me. Part of it is pure fascination; that non-directed groups can create such complicated software is nothing short of amazing. Obviously, there are many people who think and write about this topic, probably none better than Clay Shirky.

While riding my bike today, my mind wandered to this topic, and I had a thought I’d like to share. Please keep in mind that this is an extremely rough draft of a thought, and that I don’t have nearly the experience with open source software to qualify me to really have too strong of an opinion on it. Those things they are, I could definitely use some input on this.

Advocates of open source tend to argue in favor of it on a variety of fronts. One of the most common arguments I’ve heard deals with features/software quality. Firefox is probably the exemplar for this line of reasoning; a piece of software created by the crowd that surpasses its for-profit competitors in almost every domain.

A few days ago, I wrote a post suggesting one particular instance in which Safari was better than Firefox (in my own opinion, of course). However, I definitely did not provide nearly the necessary context to make a coherent argument. What I meant to highlight was that while Safari’s non-connection error message suggest that ‘You’ (the user) is not connected to the internet, Firefox places the ‘blame’ on itself.

To be sure, that is a minor distinction. But I think that the Safari strategy is interesting because it doesn’t bring attention to itself as computer software. It’s merely the window through which the user can explore the web. Very few people would ever notice or think about that, I’m sure, and it probably doesn’t matter for computer-literate users.

But it may matter, however slightly, in the perception of internet browsers to the average user. This is what I was thinking about today, and it got me wondering if there may be structural limitations on the ability of open source to appeal to average users. In other words, might the process of open source creation might be an inherent disadvantage to creating truly user-friendly software (relative to for-profit development)?

Centralized planning and development may work better for the average user because it is difficult to guess how people are going to react to interactive elements of design. For example, would the average user prefer a ‘home page’ icon in color, or black-and-white? No one can really say ahead of time–the only way to answer that type of question is to run tests with actual average users.

That particular question is almost assuredly insignificant, just as the non-connect error message was. But the totality of such questions (as well as more fundamental ones about usability) to a large extent determine the entirety of the user experience. My argument (rough as it is) is that for-profit enterprises may have the upper-hand in the process of figuring out how average users respond to the totality of these questions, because doing so is an extremely costly process that may require centralization of efforts, and absolutely requires skills from many disciplines.

Generally, the process entails things like focus groups and laboratory testing, wherein volunteers are paid something in the range of $100 for an hour of their time. Expensive professionals administer controlled studies, gather data, and create reports, which are (ideally) fed back to the designers for inspiration for improvements. (Warning: that is a glaring over-simplification of an extremely complex process.)

Can this process be replicated by decentralized, open source projects? Almost certainly not. By its nature, open source development almost never includes the funding, office space, or concerted, one-time effort necessary to run such tests. There could definitely be alternatives; beta-testing should  theoretically come to many of the same conclusions, and user feedback can be constantly monitored to iron out wrinkles.

However, I would venture to guess that, especially in the early stages of development, the users of open source software resemble the creators themselves. They are probably highly computer-literate, and likely much more open to experimentation and its requisite patience. Additionally, I would suggest that they probably are less concerned with ease of use and aesthetics than the typical computer user. So they are probably to some degree unreliable predictors of typical behavior.

Open source development can undoubtedly create software that functions well. It is conducive to rich, feature-laden software with a constantly-expanding repertoire of tricks. It has also been shown to create stable software that is relatively bug free. And in each measure, it can out-compete for-profit companies.

Yet those are ‘objective’ measures of success. They contain an implicit concept of what software should do, and how we can define good software.

Shouldn’t we instead define high functionality as that which serves the needs of the most users? And if we do, is it possible that open source will always be at a disadvantage? I am hopeful that this won’t always be the case, but if I am on to something here, alternative strategies for development will be necessary.

Sorry, that got a little verbose (which is, after all, my specialty). I want to stress again that this is an imperfectly-formed idea, and I am only throwing it out there to see how people respond. I’m especially interested in the thoughts of people with more experience using open source software than I. Do I seem to be on to something here? Are there any glaring omissions that render this whole argument false? Suggestions are appreciated. Try the veal.