This isn't a political blog. I will be honest, my interest in politics is a fledgling thing, the vestiges of ignorance of which I sometimes passionately wish I could reclaim.
Frankly, the whole thing winds me up. But this wraps into social media and so please bear with me. We get there in the end. Via some irritation at the Big Society. You have been warned.
So. The Big Society speech happened this morning. I've read the speech. Sounds great - well reads great. Just the right amount of pregnant pauses (ellipses) and impassioned pleas for the coming together of a nation.
Well if we were all white and middle class, it would work. Don't look at me like that, it would. The dream of Mr Cameron's is one I have no doubt that a large amount of you share. I do too. I'm young(ish), idealistic, and full of passion, enthusiasm and belief that the world can be changed if someone just comes up with the right idea in the right place with the right people listening. I'm white, and much to my occasional embarrassment thoroughly middle class. If someone is having trouble, I offer to help. If I see someone doing something suspicious or blatantly wrong, I'll report it to the relevant people. I carry a little fireproof pouch to put my cigarette butts in when out walking or biking and I smile and greet everyone in my street. I read Exec Board meeting minutes for fun, Prime Ministers speeches for fun. I want to know, I want to be involved, I want to give time for free, hell despite my better judgement I've volunteered for the Olympics and will eventually be marshalling at a local mountain bike race series.
My neighbours are very different. But before we discuss that, so that you understand the direction this is coming from, let me tell you a story.
Someone ploughed into our lovely company car last year. It was a stolen car, we now know driven by some local Asian kids. The race is relevant, I think, bear with me on this. They ploughed into it at such speed and ferocity that the entire front engine of a VW Passatt was left hanging off, almost entirely detached from the main chassis of the car. It was a write off. I was a bit upset. My other half was pretty shocked too as was our guest who we'd been playing Rock Band with and as a result hadn't heard a thing, not the impact, and not the lovely locals who'd knocked on our door to tell us. So those lovely locals? They know my other halves mother lives 15 doors up, went and knocked on the door and told her and asked her if she could phone us. So she did.
They didn't have to bother, you know? Our street is half Asian, half white. Old traditional ingrained white Lancashire. The people doing the running around that day were Asian. The kids handed themselves in eventually, we suspect entirely down to community pressure from families who recognised the kids as they ran away. They didn't tell the police a thing, something I was monumentally irritated about at the time. Instead they went behind the scenes, called mothers of uncles of friends and got them to hand themselves in. I have an immense amount of respect for those kids for doing that and any animosity I held against them dissipated in the understanding that perhaps they'd paid their dues to their community in ways I didn't know of.
The Big Lunch still couldn't happen here.
No, it really couldn't. Here's the reason why I told you the story above first. The wives wont look me in the eye. They wont greet me, wont talk to me, wont acknowledge me, never mind pass the time of day with me. I had the strangest moment while smoking a cigarette the other day in our back yard where I saw our next door neighbours face for the first time in 4 years of living here and I don't know who was more startled, me or her.
Me, possibly. It just floored me. I have become so accustomed to the way things are here, so inured to the traditions and respectful of the flow of life that someone stepping outside of that just broke my head a bit.
This is why the Big Society wont work. For a Society to be Big, all must be involved. Until there is more understanding of the psychological make up of all those who share the ground of the British Isles, how on earth are we going to work together? We've got to start having the Big Conversation first! We must learn to co-exist side by side, respecting the flow of other lives is different to ours, their priorities the same, but that the systems to ensure those priorities upheld a mystery to us too. We must be transparent in our behaviour and motivations and open with our smiles and greetings relentlessly and without thanks in order to attempt to engage with someone - anyone - who does not have the same skin colour as us.
That works both ways.
Sometimes, I still feel alienated here. I clumsily and entirely accidentally offend, I trip over words, I don't know who to make eye contact with, I confuse people here because I ride bikes and come home covered in mud even more than perhaps I would in an entirely white street. Yet I notice that the kids a few doors up have scooters now and one of the older girls has a bike and we smile at each other, and is there a shared acknowledgement of wanting to explore, to be free, to fly? Who knows? Neither of us say a word, both of us trapped in our confusion of the social rules of the others worlds. She doesn't know if I want to speak to her and I don't know if I am allowed, whether I would be offending someone, at what age it is okay to continue to smile and encourage and past which point it becomes offensive and wrong to do so.
Our society is a minefield and the current discussion with France banning the veil does nothing to calm the seas. I don't want to live in a white middle class society, I want to live in a truly Big Society, one in which everyone has a voice. Until it is possible for that to happen, I think we're floating in the clouds.
So where does social media come in?
I don't know anything about you except the value of your words on blogs and on Twitter. The social complications are removed, I can't accidentally offend by reading or responding to the wrong thing. There are no minefields, just conversation. A Big Conversation. The web is a great leveller, removing, in some cases, your job title, your doctorate, your Honourable status and many other things besides. It means I'll talk to many people who I would probably feel a bit too intimidated to engage with off those platforms, though a tentative interaction on those platforms make things very much easier for me when a face to face meeting happens. By that point, I know the jump off points, no matter who you are and where you are from. I know the subjects to avoid, I know the subjects which make you glow with enthusiasm, I sometimes know your political direction and will never hold that against you.
What concerns me, increasingly, is the demographic of social media channels. I have a growing suspicion that they are not representative of the wider demographic certainly, of our local Boroughs. Whether that's an issue or not, something to be messed with and changed or not, I'm still quietly arguing with myself over. What I do know is that perhaps the responsibility is on us to find out where all our target audiences are communicating and discussing and to try and engage with people in their own virtual worlds. But I think perhaps someone wiser than me needs to chase that one down, because I honestly don't know where to start. And that's something I am hugely embarrassed about too.
Monday, 19 July 2010
Friday, 16 July 2010
I'm forever blowing bubbles?
In the midst of the mass of data I absorb on a weekly basis, somewhere in the depths has stuck the idea that we social media bods are in a bubble. That noone outside of the bubble cares. My question is, who is blowing the bubbles, exactly?
You see, quite simply, there is no noise without a silence. No solution without a gaping void. No technology without its users and no Twitter without answers to the eternal question: What are you doing? If there is a bubble, then that may very well be the case, but the bubble does not preclude the usefulness of the particles inside the bubble, only it shows the value of introducing more particles into the bubble, to expand the shape, colour and direction of the bubble. Bubbles are not exclusive. And there we leave that analogy, weeping from its abuse, quivering in the gutter.
With apologies to yet another blog writer whose words I consumed voraciously, pondered sub consciously for days and as a result have no memory of the identity of the author, someone else mentioned that 'What are you doing' might as well be 'What do you know that I need to know?'
I don't believe Twitter must be 'something'. I believe Twitter is many things to many different people, just as Facebook is. Some people enjoy immensely the pleasure of dissecting politicians and associated commentators blathering on Question Time. A mass political derision, mostly, but it's commentary nevertheless. To others it is a campaign tool, and after the campaign, a tool to continue to ask questions and receive quick answers on local feelings, contentious issues and relevant input from other politicians. Some use it as an RSS aggregator though some of those people don't know that's the name for what it is their doing. Yet others use it to relentlessly network, no interest in those passing through, only interested in the opportunities new followers can give them.
Then there's the public sector. What does the public sector use Twitter for? I had an interesting conversation with a chap from a constabulary the other day. 'We're just not sure' he said. 'We've set up the account and people are following us from the States and Canada, we think they're hoping for some kind of voyeuristic thrill'.
I was rendered almost speechless. Almost, because when talking about social media, my natural reticence seems to disappear into the ether, and there emerges someone whose enthusiasm tends to railroad anyone in its path. Something I must work on, frankly, but anyway. For the moment, points for enthusiasm seem to count for something and for this I am grateful.
This chap didn't get it. I tried. I really did try. He still didn't get it. I don't think he got it at the end of a rather beautifully presented social media presentation by a company I wont mention because you might possibly identify the constabulary and that simply wouldn't be fair. The presentation distilled social medias multiple channels neatly and concisely into easy bite size little chunks. I learnt little but it wasn't aimed at me. I'm rather comfortable in the digital world, as might be evident if you've read through this blog, the presentation wasn't aimed at me, it was aimed at the lady who identified herself as a luddite and then proceeded to get so entirely, piercingly and beautifully to the point she managed to deprive the 'experts' of speech, momentarily. I still grin when I think of that two weeks later.
Anyway, Mr Constabulary. Missed the point of being a geek. Missed the point of what geeks do. In the process applied normal rules to geeks and came up with an altogether incorrect assessment of the motivation of the geek on the other side of the world. I don't follow people because they're local to me. I follow people because, quite simply, they know something I want to know. My motivations for wanting to know are wide ranging. They lurch drunkenly from idle curiosity, to the vain hope that someone behind the account might know the solution to a particularly thorny work problem I'm currently trying to solve. Sometimes I hunt down the wrong person to thank or given positive feedback to, but I figure that's a points for trying scenario too. My follow list scythes from metal and rock music, through public sector, via excessive amount of mountain biking and cycling feeds and......can I admit to this......In Style and Vogue magazine. Is someone at Vogue wondering why a woman who enjoys getting covered in mud and chooses to do it for fun in her spare time is following them? No. No they're not. So, here is my first rule of Twitter and entering the bubble. Normal rules do not apply here. Normal people operate quite happily here but in among those happy shiny people, are people who follow thousands upon thousands of Twitter streams, yours is one of them, and what does it mean?
Absolutely nothing. They thought you were interesting. Someone they follow retweeted you and they thought the stream sounded intriguing and picked you up that way. Twitter doesn't have geographical borders. I don't think it should have geographical borders. I don't want a little UK Twitter bubble, that would be boring, Justin Bieber hate aside. One of the most wonderful things I have ever seen is following the multiple Eurovision Song Contest tags on the big night (because someone didn't publish an official tag, there were many streams, there's another lesson here for another night), and watching French, Portuguese, Italian, Dutch, Danish, Swedish and English scrolling up my screen, all saying the same thing. Well okay, I can guess read all of it bar the Northern European where I become lost, but it was one of the most humbling experiences I've ever had. All these people, all talking about the same thing, all at once, using the same platform. To the best of my knowledge it's never happened before, or certainly if it has, it's not been public, laid bare for all to see and appreciate and lo! behold! contribute to.
Bubbles gather air particles together, no matter who they are, how obsessive they are, how curious, what colour, what gender, how mobile they are. The bubble is growing. It's changing shape and it's becoming the thing whose direction can no longer be predicted, whose use in the future perhaps could not have been predicted in the past. This is the magic of the digital world. You can think you know the rules, you can think you know where things are going, you can think that see all the possibilities and all the outcomes, but really?
The clue is in the word social. People make the social, are the social, and direct the social. Psychology tells us much about group behaviour, but I wonder if perhaps this time the size of the group socialising, chatting, networking and collaborating means that this time, maybe, the rules will be broken and the world will truly be changed.
Not bad for a pointless little bubble which is only relevant to the people within it. I leave with the thought, one I've had repeatedly since my last post and all the fab comments which came in (thank you) - was the telephone a bubble when it was first introduced?
You see, quite simply, there is no noise without a silence. No solution without a gaping void. No technology without its users and no Twitter without answers to the eternal question: What are you doing? If there is a bubble, then that may very well be the case, but the bubble does not preclude the usefulness of the particles inside the bubble, only it shows the value of introducing more particles into the bubble, to expand the shape, colour and direction of the bubble. Bubbles are not exclusive. And there we leave that analogy, weeping from its abuse, quivering in the gutter.
With apologies to yet another blog writer whose words I consumed voraciously, pondered sub consciously for days and as a result have no memory of the identity of the author, someone else mentioned that 'What are you doing' might as well be 'What do you know that I need to know?'
I don't believe Twitter must be 'something'. I believe Twitter is many things to many different people, just as Facebook is. Some people enjoy immensely the pleasure of dissecting politicians and associated commentators blathering on Question Time. A mass political derision, mostly, but it's commentary nevertheless. To others it is a campaign tool, and after the campaign, a tool to continue to ask questions and receive quick answers on local feelings, contentious issues and relevant input from other politicians. Some use it as an RSS aggregator though some of those people don't know that's the name for what it is their doing. Yet others use it to relentlessly network, no interest in those passing through, only interested in the opportunities new followers can give them.
Then there's the public sector. What does the public sector use Twitter for? I had an interesting conversation with a chap from a constabulary the other day. 'We're just not sure' he said. 'We've set up the account and people are following us from the States and Canada, we think they're hoping for some kind of voyeuristic thrill'.
I was rendered almost speechless. Almost, because when talking about social media, my natural reticence seems to disappear into the ether, and there emerges someone whose enthusiasm tends to railroad anyone in its path. Something I must work on, frankly, but anyway. For the moment, points for enthusiasm seem to count for something and for this I am grateful.
This chap didn't get it. I tried. I really did try. He still didn't get it. I don't think he got it at the end of a rather beautifully presented social media presentation by a company I wont mention because you might possibly identify the constabulary and that simply wouldn't be fair. The presentation distilled social medias multiple channels neatly and concisely into easy bite size little chunks. I learnt little but it wasn't aimed at me. I'm rather comfortable in the digital world, as might be evident if you've read through this blog, the presentation wasn't aimed at me, it was aimed at the lady who identified herself as a luddite and then proceeded to get so entirely, piercingly and beautifully to the point she managed to deprive the 'experts' of speech, momentarily. I still grin when I think of that two weeks later.
Anyway, Mr Constabulary. Missed the point of being a geek. Missed the point of what geeks do. In the process applied normal rules to geeks and came up with an altogether incorrect assessment of the motivation of the geek on the other side of the world. I don't follow people because they're local to me. I follow people because, quite simply, they know something I want to know. My motivations for wanting to know are wide ranging. They lurch drunkenly from idle curiosity, to the vain hope that someone behind the account might know the solution to a particularly thorny work problem I'm currently trying to solve. Sometimes I hunt down the wrong person to thank or given positive feedback to, but I figure that's a points for trying scenario too. My follow list scythes from metal and rock music, through public sector, via excessive amount of mountain biking and cycling feeds and......can I admit to this......In Style and Vogue magazine. Is someone at Vogue wondering why a woman who enjoys getting covered in mud and chooses to do it for fun in her spare time is following them? No. No they're not. So, here is my first rule of Twitter and entering the bubble. Normal rules do not apply here. Normal people operate quite happily here but in among those happy shiny people, are people who follow thousands upon thousands of Twitter streams, yours is one of them, and what does it mean?
Absolutely nothing. They thought you were interesting. Someone they follow retweeted you and they thought the stream sounded intriguing and picked you up that way. Twitter doesn't have geographical borders. I don't think it should have geographical borders. I don't want a little UK Twitter bubble, that would be boring, Justin Bieber hate aside. One of the most wonderful things I have ever seen is following the multiple Eurovision Song Contest tags on the big night (because someone didn't publish an official tag, there were many streams, there's another lesson here for another night), and watching French, Portuguese, Italian, Dutch, Danish, Swedish and English scrolling up my screen, all saying the same thing. Well okay, I can guess read all of it bar the Northern European where I become lost, but it was one of the most humbling experiences I've ever had. All these people, all talking about the same thing, all at once, using the same platform. To the best of my knowledge it's never happened before, or certainly if it has, it's not been public, laid bare for all to see and appreciate and lo! behold! contribute to.
Bubbles gather air particles together, no matter who they are, how obsessive they are, how curious, what colour, what gender, how mobile they are. The bubble is growing. It's changing shape and it's becoming the thing whose direction can no longer be predicted, whose use in the future perhaps could not have been predicted in the past. This is the magic of the digital world. You can think you know the rules, you can think you know where things are going, you can think that see all the possibilities and all the outcomes, but really?
The clue is in the word social. People make the social, are the social, and direct the social. Psychology tells us much about group behaviour, but I wonder if perhaps this time the size of the group socialising, chatting, networking and collaborating means that this time, maybe, the rules will be broken and the world will truly be changed.
Not bad for a pointless little bubble which is only relevant to the people within it. I leave with the thought, one I've had repeatedly since my last post and all the fab comments which came in (thank you) - was the telephone a bubble when it was first introduced?
Sunday, 11 July 2010
The responsibility of communicating
Lets talk about digital exclusion. Or conversely digital inclusion because the two are the opposite sides of what is, essentially, the same argument. It's merely a matter of tilting ones head to see either side of the fence and relatively easy to see which side someones sitting on the great digital divide.
The divide isn't only about infrastructure. Don't get me wrong, I acknowledge fully and completely that when someone arrives at a social media presentation with the gambit that a third of her Councils area doesn't even have mobile phone coverage, I am going to mentally calculate which century we are in and feel something very close to complete despair at the size of the challenge ahead of us if we want everyone to have the same digital opportunities. We have some challenges ahead which are going to require massive investment and some inspiring technical innovation to enable everyone to have the same platform to start from.
But this post is not about infrastructure. This post is about a sense that the government is rushing faster and faster towards a digital economy, digital communication streams and digital consultation without any comprehension of the exclusion they that are creating.
Think about the adverts that you see on TV. Think of how many quote web addresses or suggest you enter 'a phrase' into a 'search engine' for more information. Think of the government adverts which do the same. Think of all the competitions which you can enter for free online but have to pay for if you telephone or write. Think about communicating with government bodies. Applications for passports, driving licences etc, can all be done digitally. The alternative is entering into a two way conversation with a government body via post and we all know how that goes. Think of the segments on morning tv shows which quote web addresses for more information, where the information is not offered any other way. Think about the increasing habits of schools to publish timetables and events diaries on the web. Think about all the information and knowledge which is available on the web for free, which if you did not have access to the web, you would need to pay for, either by subscribing to journals or buying expensive books. Think of all the newspaper articles where comments come thick and fast and the media can form ideas on the mood and feel of the populace on the subject those comments are on.
Now think about not being able to do any of those things. Not because you can't, but because you simply don't want to. Or maybe that you can't afford to. That there is a nice pipe running past your door but you don't have the money to pay £28 a month for broadband because that's part of the food budget. Or perhaps that you have the money, but you just don't care enough to go through all the complications and learning at a later stage in your life. That your exposure to the web has only ever been through the TV and all you can see are configurations of words with dots in them and they mean nothing to you. Where your understanding only comes from what's said on screen and it seems that there is a mass of information out there but you can't access it, and you could access it, if you wanted to, but there just isn't the urge there once was to take on new ideas.
This post was inspired by a real person. She exists. There are hundreds of thousands just like her. She's the gran of my physiotherapist. She wants to receive letters through the post. She wants to pick up a telephone and talk to her bank - well actually she'd rather walk into the branch but movement isn't so easy for her these days so a telephone and hitting 0 repeatedly until she gets a human voice has to suffice. She's lived a long time and she's seen the world change and she is becoming sick of the machines everywhere. She wants to talk to people, they're the only contact she has some days with the outside world, with the sound of someones voice that doesn't emit from the television. She wants to chat to the checkout girl. She wants to chat to the bod at the bank. She wants contact - and she doesn't want it digitally. The time is past, in her mind, for learning the complications, she watches her granddaughter on the computer and her granddaughter has been kind and tried to show her how it all works, but it's too much information, and it's too impenetrable, and what on earth is the point to all the information any way? Why can't someone still bother to communicate with her in a way she understands? Why is everyone so determined to get rid of bits of paper, they've done well enough so far, why is everyone so totally focussed on publishing web addresses everywhere and not telling her anything any more?
There is a responsibility in communicating. There is a responsibility in holding a message or information which others need to know. That responsibility is to communicate so that all who need to receive it do so. In a world where floods, freak weather and all kinds of disasters can occur, for example, what danger is there in deciding that to cut costs, we will only communicate with those who provide us with a mobile phone number or who subscribe to our Twitter account? Are we going to enter a world eventually where you can only have your shopping if you suffer the swipe lottery; will it or wont it go through without the embarrassing supervisor call emitting from the depths of the machine? Are we going to cut communication costs so viciously that we cannot afford to communicate with the people on the edges, the older generation who didn't get taught how to use a PC at school, a skill which is becoming as necessary now as numeracy and literacy? Are we going to isolate an already vulnerable segment of our community in the rush to create communities online, thus creating a divide and barrier at a time when we must unify to try and deal with financial, environmental, moral, criminal and cohesive problems?
No has to be the answer. They're not up for negotiation, these questions. Like it or not, enthusiastic or not, some people do not want to be digital. They want to be analogue, they're quite happy being analogue and frankly, I think we're insulting them a little in our assertion that they should want to be digital.
Digital inclusion is necessary. It is. Digital is cheaper, auditable, time rich, convenient, indexed and dynamic. But there is a place for both. There is a place for a newspaper online as well as offline. There is a place for community offline as well as online too. The danger is the assumption that the voices, opinion, crowd sourcing and data obtained online is a clear and current representation of all voices and opinions which exist, and that all sectors of our society are adequately represented in the digital world. They're not. They never will be. The responsibility is entirely on us to ensure that they are not excluded as a result of that, that we continue to include them in the national conversation, that we check in with them, that we send them bits of paper, that we print a photograph in all it's stunning glory and continue to give joy to people who do not have the luxury of a screen to see it on.
Inclusion means including everyone.
The divide isn't only about infrastructure. Don't get me wrong, I acknowledge fully and completely that when someone arrives at a social media presentation with the gambit that a third of her Councils area doesn't even have mobile phone coverage, I am going to mentally calculate which century we are in and feel something very close to complete despair at the size of the challenge ahead of us if we want everyone to have the same digital opportunities. We have some challenges ahead which are going to require massive investment and some inspiring technical innovation to enable everyone to have the same platform to start from.
But this post is not about infrastructure. This post is about a sense that the government is rushing faster and faster towards a digital economy, digital communication streams and digital consultation without any comprehension of the exclusion they that are creating.
Think about the adverts that you see on TV. Think of how many quote web addresses or suggest you enter 'a phrase' into a 'search engine' for more information. Think of the government adverts which do the same. Think of all the competitions which you can enter for free online but have to pay for if you telephone or write. Think about communicating with government bodies. Applications for passports, driving licences etc, can all be done digitally. The alternative is entering into a two way conversation with a government body via post and we all know how that goes. Think of the segments on morning tv shows which quote web addresses for more information, where the information is not offered any other way. Think about the increasing habits of schools to publish timetables and events diaries on the web. Think about all the information and knowledge which is available on the web for free, which if you did not have access to the web, you would need to pay for, either by subscribing to journals or buying expensive books. Think of all the newspaper articles where comments come thick and fast and the media can form ideas on the mood and feel of the populace on the subject those comments are on.
Now think about not being able to do any of those things. Not because you can't, but because you simply don't want to. Or maybe that you can't afford to. That there is a nice pipe running past your door but you don't have the money to pay £28 a month for broadband because that's part of the food budget. Or perhaps that you have the money, but you just don't care enough to go through all the complications and learning at a later stage in your life. That your exposure to the web has only ever been through the TV and all you can see are configurations of words with dots in them and they mean nothing to you. Where your understanding only comes from what's said on screen and it seems that there is a mass of information out there but you can't access it, and you could access it, if you wanted to, but there just isn't the urge there once was to take on new ideas.
This post was inspired by a real person. She exists. There are hundreds of thousands just like her. She's the gran of my physiotherapist. She wants to receive letters through the post. She wants to pick up a telephone and talk to her bank - well actually she'd rather walk into the branch but movement isn't so easy for her these days so a telephone and hitting 0 repeatedly until she gets a human voice has to suffice. She's lived a long time and she's seen the world change and she is becoming sick of the machines everywhere. She wants to talk to people, they're the only contact she has some days with the outside world, with the sound of someones voice that doesn't emit from the television. She wants to chat to the checkout girl. She wants to chat to the bod at the bank. She wants contact - and she doesn't want it digitally. The time is past, in her mind, for learning the complications, she watches her granddaughter on the computer and her granddaughter has been kind and tried to show her how it all works, but it's too much information, and it's too impenetrable, and what on earth is the point to all the information any way? Why can't someone still bother to communicate with her in a way she understands? Why is everyone so determined to get rid of bits of paper, they've done well enough so far, why is everyone so totally focussed on publishing web addresses everywhere and not telling her anything any more?
There is a responsibility in communicating. There is a responsibility in holding a message or information which others need to know. That responsibility is to communicate so that all who need to receive it do so. In a world where floods, freak weather and all kinds of disasters can occur, for example, what danger is there in deciding that to cut costs, we will only communicate with those who provide us with a mobile phone number or who subscribe to our Twitter account? Are we going to enter a world eventually where you can only have your shopping if you suffer the swipe lottery; will it or wont it go through without the embarrassing supervisor call emitting from the depths of the machine? Are we going to cut communication costs so viciously that we cannot afford to communicate with the people on the edges, the older generation who didn't get taught how to use a PC at school, a skill which is becoming as necessary now as numeracy and literacy? Are we going to isolate an already vulnerable segment of our community in the rush to create communities online, thus creating a divide and barrier at a time when we must unify to try and deal with financial, environmental, moral, criminal and cohesive problems?
No has to be the answer. They're not up for negotiation, these questions. Like it or not, enthusiastic or not, some people do not want to be digital. They want to be analogue, they're quite happy being analogue and frankly, I think we're insulting them a little in our assertion that they should want to be digital.
Digital inclusion is necessary. It is. Digital is cheaper, auditable, time rich, convenient, indexed and dynamic. But there is a place for both. There is a place for a newspaper online as well as offline. There is a place for community offline as well as online too. The danger is the assumption that the voices, opinion, crowd sourcing and data obtained online is a clear and current representation of all voices and opinions which exist, and that all sectors of our society are adequately represented in the digital world. They're not. They never will be. The responsibility is entirely on us to ensure that they are not excluded as a result of that, that we continue to include them in the national conversation, that we check in with them, that we send them bits of paper, that we print a photograph in all it's stunning glory and continue to give joy to people who do not have the luxury of a screen to see it on.
Inclusion means including everyone.
Sunday, 4 July 2010
Bar Camping in Blackpool
Yesterday I attended my first ever Bar Camp. The whole experience has left me very pensive, I think because I had no preconceptions about how the day would unfold, so as a result there has been quite a lot of information to process.
I am a geek and I am a girl. But I should have known when one of the attendees sent out a questionnaire before the event happened and asked are you 1) a coder or 2) a designer or 3) other, that my interest in social media/social networking/social something would not be at the forefront of the talks being delivered. I didn't know what to expect regarding the content of the talks at all, and so reading through the Board as it developed and grew throughout the day was very interesting. I attended two talks on social media, the first was a chap ostensibly marketing his new Tag Walk web interface via an interesting but necessarily short trip around user recommendations, tags and hashtags and their role in social media. I'm not sure he intended for the talk to come across as a pitch, but judging by conversations I heard later, it wasn't just me who felt it was, though the people commenting were doing so directly to the presenter and were deep in conversation about the server loads and future capabilities of the 'application'. I am glad of this, because the talk was delivered incredibly well, and whilst I didn't learn anything new, I still stayed and enjoyed what I knew being delivered to me slightly differently.
The second also suffered, I think, from time restraints but again had a delightful premise. Sociometry and social networking nabbed my attention straight away and I was intrigued. I suppose it might be less evident than I assume it is from this blog, but I have a very strong interest in the social dynamics at play within social media and a lifelong curiosity in psychology and sociology though I've never studied either, and this presentation didn't disappoint. I knew nothing about sociometry, and though timings meant I was left to draw the parellels between the thematic mapping of social interactions of real life interactions in the 60's and how it exactly mirrors how the thematic mapping of social interactioins of online interactions in the new century, draw those parallels I did, and quite happily.
Of course, life is not limited to representations in Powerpoint presentations and the sociometry was clear to see happening in the venue around me. There are leaders, hubs of their social groups, the alphas, and then there are the people who revolve around them. And then, of course, there are the people who are too damn old/independant/world weary/self assured to play such games and go their own way. It was fascinating to look around and see the sociology in action in real time around me.
Having said that, the whole experience was a very positive one. I learnt a lot, saw a lot, discussed and argued a lot and had no small amount of epiphanies. The talk about the future of reading where the speaker seemed to be intimating that the iPad was the future of reading provoked the most muttering under my breath about tools for jobs and not being able to take it to bed to read before I sleep at night, about sunlight rendering any electronic screen unreadable still in this day and age and how no one was going to mug me for my paper copy of Wired but this aside, I did have my kneejerk resistance dissipated somewhat by the demonstration of the Wired app which used neat little applets to demonstrate, for example, the mechanics of constructing a car from the ground up. I agree that this is the future of publishing, but I disagree that the world is quite ready for it yet. One for Generation Z perhaps?
Then there was the talk on genetic crypto analysis in which I discovered exactly how stupid I am. The talk on command line animation which I annoyingly missed because it clashed with sociometry. Or the Sharepoint one, the J Query one, the one on a CMS I can't remember the name of - I ended the day exhausted and I still hadn't managed to catch all the talks I wanted to.
But I did discover the existence of some fantastic tools which I will be using in the next few months. I did learn that Tag Walk might allow the tracking of PR drops, or communications being ramped up. I learnt through Tag Walk that more people interacted directly with the personal account of the organiser of Bar Camp Blackpool using the hash tag for the event than bothered to use the official account set up for that purpose. I'm still wondering if that little fact is the ground breaking and earth shattering revelation for our organisation that I think it might be. I am still trying to work out if I am brave enough to propose the ludicrous system I came up with in 10 minutes yesterday as a result of this revelation to deal with incoming interactions which are not urgent into our organisation through social media.
I learnt that other people want the same tools I do for Twitter. I learnt that some people think Twitter is only for social interaction and conversations and that they feel there is no place for companies, organisations, third sector or community groups. Until I mentioned being able to book a GP appointment by Twitter, at which point as usual, everything went quiet. I learnt that I'm not quite confident enough to stand up in front of a group of people unprepared but that I wished I had been. I learnt that people can be welcoming and interested even if their appearance says otherwise and they look clique'd and involved in their own circles. I learnt that there's just no talking to some people so fixed are they on the people they already know. And all of this learning, discussing, musing and input didn't cost me a thing, meaning that start ups, small businesses and public sector paupers alike could sit in the air conditioning for a day and worry not about the cost or the implications of being there and simply listen and innovate.
Some bits of the day were more successful than others. Some talks were more successful than others. Some people were more cliquey than others and others more welcoming than cliquey. But on the whole, my first Bar Camp experience was incredibly positive and I would recommend anyone dithering about attending one to bite the bullet and go. Nothing can compare to over 100 other people thinking in different directions and outside of different boxes to you.
I am a geek and I am a girl. But I should have known when one of the attendees sent out a questionnaire before the event happened and asked are you 1) a coder or 2) a designer or 3) other, that my interest in social media/social networking/social something would not be at the forefront of the talks being delivered. I didn't know what to expect regarding the content of the talks at all, and so reading through the Board as it developed and grew throughout the day was very interesting. I attended two talks on social media, the first was a chap ostensibly marketing his new Tag Walk web interface via an interesting but necessarily short trip around user recommendations, tags and hashtags and their role in social media. I'm not sure he intended for the talk to come across as a pitch, but judging by conversations I heard later, it wasn't just me who felt it was, though the people commenting were doing so directly to the presenter and were deep in conversation about the server loads and future capabilities of the 'application'. I am glad of this, because the talk was delivered incredibly well, and whilst I didn't learn anything new, I still stayed and enjoyed what I knew being delivered to me slightly differently.
The second also suffered, I think, from time restraints but again had a delightful premise. Sociometry and social networking nabbed my attention straight away and I was intrigued. I suppose it might be less evident than I assume it is from this blog, but I have a very strong interest in the social dynamics at play within social media and a lifelong curiosity in psychology and sociology though I've never studied either, and this presentation didn't disappoint. I knew nothing about sociometry, and though timings meant I was left to draw the parellels between the thematic mapping of social interactions of real life interactions in the 60's and how it exactly mirrors how the thematic mapping of social interactioins of online interactions in the new century, draw those parallels I did, and quite happily.
Of course, life is not limited to representations in Powerpoint presentations and the sociometry was clear to see happening in the venue around me. There are leaders, hubs of their social groups, the alphas, and then there are the people who revolve around them. And then, of course, there are the people who are too damn old/independant/world weary/self assured to play such games and go their own way. It was fascinating to look around and see the sociology in action in real time around me.
Having said that, the whole experience was a very positive one. I learnt a lot, saw a lot, discussed and argued a lot and had no small amount of epiphanies. The talk about the future of reading where the speaker seemed to be intimating that the iPad was the future of reading provoked the most muttering under my breath about tools for jobs and not being able to take it to bed to read before I sleep at night, about sunlight rendering any electronic screen unreadable still in this day and age and how no one was going to mug me for my paper copy of Wired but this aside, I did have my kneejerk resistance dissipated somewhat by the demonstration of the Wired app which used neat little applets to demonstrate, for example, the mechanics of constructing a car from the ground up. I agree that this is the future of publishing, but I disagree that the world is quite ready for it yet. One for Generation Z perhaps?
Then there was the talk on genetic crypto analysis in which I discovered exactly how stupid I am. The talk on command line animation which I annoyingly missed because it clashed with sociometry. Or the Sharepoint one, the J Query one, the one on a CMS I can't remember the name of - I ended the day exhausted and I still hadn't managed to catch all the talks I wanted to.
But I did discover the existence of some fantastic tools which I will be using in the next few months. I did learn that Tag Walk might allow the tracking of PR drops, or communications being ramped up. I learnt through Tag Walk that more people interacted directly with the personal account of the organiser of Bar Camp Blackpool using the hash tag for the event than bothered to use the official account set up for that purpose. I'm still wondering if that little fact is the ground breaking and earth shattering revelation for our organisation that I think it might be. I am still trying to work out if I am brave enough to propose the ludicrous system I came up with in 10 minutes yesterday as a result of this revelation to deal with incoming interactions which are not urgent into our organisation through social media.
I learnt that other people want the same tools I do for Twitter. I learnt that some people think Twitter is only for social interaction and conversations and that they feel there is no place for companies, organisations, third sector or community groups. Until I mentioned being able to book a GP appointment by Twitter, at which point as usual, everything went quiet. I learnt that I'm not quite confident enough to stand up in front of a group of people unprepared but that I wished I had been. I learnt that people can be welcoming and interested even if their appearance says otherwise and they look clique'd and involved in their own circles. I learnt that there's just no talking to some people so fixed are they on the people they already know. And all of this learning, discussing, musing and input didn't cost me a thing, meaning that start ups, small businesses and public sector paupers alike could sit in the air conditioning for a day and worry not about the cost or the implications of being there and simply listen and innovate.
Some bits of the day were more successful than others. Some talks were more successful than others. Some people were more cliquey than others and others more welcoming than cliquey. But on the whole, my first Bar Camp experience was incredibly positive and I would recommend anyone dithering about attending one to bite the bullet and go. Nothing can compare to over 100 other people thinking in different directions and outside of different boxes to you.
Thursday, 1 July 2010
Hitting the excluded where it hurts
This isn't about social media. This is about Councils, cuts, and efficiencies. This is written, not as an employee of a Local Authority, but as a reasonably intelligent woman who didn't have the best start in life, and got here anyway, where here is with enough money to buy books, ride a mountain bike (and by association choose the kind of exercise I take), afford fresh fruit and veg and have an always on broadband connection.
Life wasn't always like this.
This is not a whine. This is a very personal plea which I know will fall on deaf ears, but I will write anyway in the vain hope that someone will read and understand the potential implications of the cuts which are undoubtedly coming our way in towns and villages across this country. This is about exclusion breeding exclusion, about cuts hitting people who have nothing even harder, about social mobility and the need for stabilisers. It is about me, and my experience of life.
I grew up in a very small village (pop. 400) in a rural area of Somerset, before Somerset was associated with 4 x 4's, Daily Mail columnists and Glastonbury Festival. We had no money - both my parents were on benefits for assorted reasons. I assumed, as I grew up, that everyone's first school class had 10 children in it. I assumed that everyone had a 10 mile round trip to middle school. I assumed that everyone had a 30 mile round trip to Secondary school - in the way that children do who grow up in a small little place with no access to newspapers, who weren't interested in watching the news, who didn't have access to the internet. We had no car and no telephone. There are still people in this country now, who do not.
There was no money for books, swimming lessons, gym memberships, piano or singing lessons, ballet lessons or educational visits at weekends. There was no money for educational toys to teach us how to spell, we learnt to count using dominoes and to spell using my fathers old printing press letters.
This is not unusual. Except, perhaps, that my mother bothered to teach us to spell and count before we attended our first school, but she came from a middle class background and despite leaving school at 15 to earn a wage to look after her elderly parents, understood the worth of an education.
I was what one might consider a bright child. I liked learning. I skipped Roger Red Hat et al and went straight to the books with pages full of text. Without a library to borrow books from, I would have been lost. Without a bus route funded by the local Council, I could not have reached the library. When there was no money for a trip on the bus to the library, I would use the mobile library service. It didn't help with homework, too limited a selection, but it did help my need to read absolutely everything and anything. When I was older, I cycled to the nearest library, 5 miles away and got my books that way, lugging the educational books for my homework back with me. I thought nothing of doing this, that's not the point.
Without the Council funded bus route, the Council funded library, the Council funded mobile library, where would I be now? How would I have learnt? School textbooks teach you much, but they can't teach you everything. Teachers, certainly more so now than then, do not have the time or patience to sit and listen to 20 questions on todays lesson. There is no time. So how, exactly, would I have learnt that the world is massive, intricate and beautiful, that the stars are things of wonder, that Istanbul was full of history and war or that China was only a recent addition to world politics or that math was used in the real world and there was a point to paying attention in class? Both my parents left school with no qualifications, the only place to learn was between the covers of a book.
Without input, minds grow stagnant. As has been proved by research, the value of keeping an active brain active cannot be underestimated, Alzheimers can be warded from by such a thing as simply thinking. If a young brain has nothing to challenge and expand, it will wither, interest will be lost, and eventually crime will be turned to - I know, I supervised one such lad when I was a Probation Service Officer.
Then there were the Council funded music lessons, and the Council funded loan of a flute. As a result of these, I learnt a lifelong appreciation and love of music, not just the music piped through the radio chosen by someone else. I learnt about having a hobby, something new to me. I learnt about practising at something, repeatedly, in order to get my body to physically do something it wasn't naturally inclined to do. I learnt about using something other than my brain to produce something worthwhile. It would have been impossible without that Council funded teacher.
Then there were school trips. There was no money for holidays for our family, never mind spare for school trips. But thanks to Council contributions, I managed to learn that there was a world outside our little bit of Somerset, I learnt about being part of a team who needed to clean and cook and wash together in order to produce food and a good living environment, I learnt to play well with others. I learnt skills which people assume everyone is taught at home, but perhaps are not for very many reasons. I learnt about set timetables and not being left to my own devices, but the need to have a structured day which integrated with everyone elses structured day. I learnt discipline but in the kindest and most fun of ways. I climbed, I walked, I laughed and I relaxed in a space which was entirely safe. It was a godsend on a number of levels and it couldn't have happened without Council money.
Oh, that 30 mile round trip to Secondary school? Council funded. Not sure how I would have managed to get to school without it - we had no car.
As a result of a lot of Council money, spent to enable those who happened to be born into less fortunate circumstances, I learnt, I grew and I give back. I have worked in every job going to ensure that I contribute something in order to pay something back to a system without which education would have ended at 16 and dead end jobs would have probably been the norm. Without that money being spent in those places, I would not be the educated, well read, enquiring, enthusiastic, passionate and hard working person I am today. I can say that without a shadow of a doubt.
In the midst of the cuts and the spending freezes, the removal of grants and the efficiencies, the biggest thing which is breaking my heart is that somewhere there is a little girl just like me. And every single one of the branches which I held on to to ensure that I got an education, an outlet for my brain and a passion for thinking and changing things are about to be removed. I don't know for sure, but I think that mobile library services, rural libraries, leisure centres, free swimming lessons, free music lessons and loan of equipment, bus services to rural areas - all of things will be in the firing line. And all of those things are the opportunities and assistance which those who fall into the sector of society who need them most are about to have removed.
We are, in effect, about to rob the poor to pay the rich - or rather rob the poor to ensure the rich remain able to pay themselves massive Xmas bonuses. One of those bonuses could probably keep a mobile library service running for a year. What price the disappearing opportunity of education and mind expansion of the geographically and financially excluded?
Too high, it seems.
So I suppose this is a marker. A nod. A plea to spare a thought, over the coming months, for making the public sector the target of your ire. As the leisure centres close, as the libraries shut down, as the hot school meals are withdrawn, as the budget for school books is reduced, spare a thought for the little girl somewhere out there who's opportunities to get out are being reduced, one by one. And she's done absolutely nothing wrong.
Life wasn't always like this.
This is not a whine. This is a very personal plea which I know will fall on deaf ears, but I will write anyway in the vain hope that someone will read and understand the potential implications of the cuts which are undoubtedly coming our way in towns and villages across this country. This is about exclusion breeding exclusion, about cuts hitting people who have nothing even harder, about social mobility and the need for stabilisers. It is about me, and my experience of life.
I grew up in a very small village (pop. 400) in a rural area of Somerset, before Somerset was associated with 4 x 4's, Daily Mail columnists and Glastonbury Festival. We had no money - both my parents were on benefits for assorted reasons. I assumed, as I grew up, that everyone's first school class had 10 children in it. I assumed that everyone had a 10 mile round trip to middle school. I assumed that everyone had a 30 mile round trip to Secondary school - in the way that children do who grow up in a small little place with no access to newspapers, who weren't interested in watching the news, who didn't have access to the internet. We had no car and no telephone. There are still people in this country now, who do not.
There was no money for books, swimming lessons, gym memberships, piano or singing lessons, ballet lessons or educational visits at weekends. There was no money for educational toys to teach us how to spell, we learnt to count using dominoes and to spell using my fathers old printing press letters.
This is not unusual. Except, perhaps, that my mother bothered to teach us to spell and count before we attended our first school, but she came from a middle class background and despite leaving school at 15 to earn a wage to look after her elderly parents, understood the worth of an education.
I was what one might consider a bright child. I liked learning. I skipped Roger Red Hat et al and went straight to the books with pages full of text. Without a library to borrow books from, I would have been lost. Without a bus route funded by the local Council, I could not have reached the library. When there was no money for a trip on the bus to the library, I would use the mobile library service. It didn't help with homework, too limited a selection, but it did help my need to read absolutely everything and anything. When I was older, I cycled to the nearest library, 5 miles away and got my books that way, lugging the educational books for my homework back with me. I thought nothing of doing this, that's not the point.
Without the Council funded bus route, the Council funded library, the Council funded mobile library, where would I be now? How would I have learnt? School textbooks teach you much, but they can't teach you everything. Teachers, certainly more so now than then, do not have the time or patience to sit and listen to 20 questions on todays lesson. There is no time. So how, exactly, would I have learnt that the world is massive, intricate and beautiful, that the stars are things of wonder, that Istanbul was full of history and war or that China was only a recent addition to world politics or that math was used in the real world and there was a point to paying attention in class? Both my parents left school with no qualifications, the only place to learn was between the covers of a book.
Without input, minds grow stagnant. As has been proved by research, the value of keeping an active brain active cannot be underestimated, Alzheimers can be warded from by such a thing as simply thinking. If a young brain has nothing to challenge and expand, it will wither, interest will be lost, and eventually crime will be turned to - I know, I supervised one such lad when I was a Probation Service Officer.
Then there were the Council funded music lessons, and the Council funded loan of a flute. As a result of these, I learnt a lifelong appreciation and love of music, not just the music piped through the radio chosen by someone else. I learnt about having a hobby, something new to me. I learnt about practising at something, repeatedly, in order to get my body to physically do something it wasn't naturally inclined to do. I learnt about using something other than my brain to produce something worthwhile. It would have been impossible without that Council funded teacher.
Then there were school trips. There was no money for holidays for our family, never mind spare for school trips. But thanks to Council contributions, I managed to learn that there was a world outside our little bit of Somerset, I learnt about being part of a team who needed to clean and cook and wash together in order to produce food and a good living environment, I learnt to play well with others. I learnt skills which people assume everyone is taught at home, but perhaps are not for very many reasons. I learnt about set timetables and not being left to my own devices, but the need to have a structured day which integrated with everyone elses structured day. I learnt discipline but in the kindest and most fun of ways. I climbed, I walked, I laughed and I relaxed in a space which was entirely safe. It was a godsend on a number of levels and it couldn't have happened without Council money.
Oh, that 30 mile round trip to Secondary school? Council funded. Not sure how I would have managed to get to school without it - we had no car.
As a result of a lot of Council money, spent to enable those who happened to be born into less fortunate circumstances, I learnt, I grew and I give back. I have worked in every job going to ensure that I contribute something in order to pay something back to a system without which education would have ended at 16 and dead end jobs would have probably been the norm. Without that money being spent in those places, I would not be the educated, well read, enquiring, enthusiastic, passionate and hard working person I am today. I can say that without a shadow of a doubt.
In the midst of the cuts and the spending freezes, the removal of grants and the efficiencies, the biggest thing which is breaking my heart is that somewhere there is a little girl just like me. And every single one of the branches which I held on to to ensure that I got an education, an outlet for my brain and a passion for thinking and changing things are about to be removed. I don't know for sure, but I think that mobile library services, rural libraries, leisure centres, free swimming lessons, free music lessons and loan of equipment, bus services to rural areas - all of things will be in the firing line. And all of those things are the opportunities and assistance which those who fall into the sector of society who need them most are about to have removed.
We are, in effect, about to rob the poor to pay the rich - or rather rob the poor to ensure the rich remain able to pay themselves massive Xmas bonuses. One of those bonuses could probably keep a mobile library service running for a year. What price the disappearing opportunity of education and mind expansion of the geographically and financially excluded?
Too high, it seems.
So I suppose this is a marker. A nod. A plea to spare a thought, over the coming months, for making the public sector the target of your ire. As the leisure centres close, as the libraries shut down, as the hot school meals are withdrawn, as the budget for school books is reduced, spare a thought for the little girl somewhere out there who's opportunities to get out are being reduced, one by one. And she's done absolutely nothing wrong.
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