This week I purchased a new cell phone. I’ve been using my current phone, an HTC Desire Z (dubbed the G2 by T-Mobile in the US), for a little over a year and it’s time for an upgrade.
Or maybe it’s a sidegrade. Instead of buying the newest model on the market (or waiting for one of the half a million or so introduced at CES this month) I re-bought the Nexus One, a phone released almost two years ago.
I bought my first Nexus One directly from Google when it came out, and it quickly became my all-time favorite phone. The hardware fits me perfectly — just the right weight, great screen and buttons. It’s had two follow-ups in the Nexus S and the Galaxy Nexus, but neither one has struck me the same way. Because of its background, as the first “Google Experience” phone, it fell into the hands of a lot of able hackers, and so has great community support and quick releases for the CyanogenMod and Whisper Systems software I like to use.
When that Nexus One was stolen in November 2010, I thought I’d appreciate the upgrade. But while the phone I got featured some souped-up specs and an upgraded OS, I just didn’t like the experience as much.
So for now, I’ve chosen to check out of the upgrade cycle and stick with a device that I know works for me. It’s tempting to think I’ll be out of some loop, but the truth is, the hardware I need for my phone is not that greatly different from what I needed two years ago.
Keeping off of the high-end upgrade cycle — because really, having the shiniest phone in your pocket is not a one-time choice, but a commitment to regular upgrades — is cheaper, less disappointing, and less likely to contribute to a mountain of stuff in my house that is just too expensive to throw away. Much better, if you know what works, to stick with it.
Of course, there are other approaches. Lore Sjöberg, a writer for Wired, wrote about founding the Cult of the Somewhat Delayed a few years back. His cult would consist of people who kept on top of the latest advances in technology and culture, but with a two-year offset. This month, devotees would be checking out the movies, news, and gadgets from January 2010, which makes my new phone a crazy device from the future.
Those not ready to take the two-year plunge might check out Last Year’s Model, a project to get people to hold on to their devices a little longer. They advertise their MySpace page as a way to keep up with the project, which makes me think it’s either a bit out of date, or they’re very committed to the cause.
In any case, I’m happy to live at a time where the progress we can achieve in two years is enough to give the feeling of obsolescence. But I’m also happy to know that I’m not really out of the loop if I decide to skip the upgrade.
Over on his blog, John Lilly provides the best sort of analysis of the SOPA conversation — reasonable and measured. The problem with the “dialogue” so far, he says, is that (1) it has basically consisted of each side calling the other names, (2) which isn’t going to help now, and (3) will set a bad precedent for making new tech policy.
Expanding on that first point, he says that while the bill’s supporters may have kicked things off by accusing the tech community of engaging in, supporting, and profiting from piracy, that community should not respond with further name-calling and accusations of censorship. Instead, the tech sector should acknowledge the real problem with online piracy overseas and work together with the content industry to address it.
I really appreciate calls for civility, especially in a discussion that has gotten as heated as the one around SOPA and PROTECT IP. But as an active participant in that discussion, three things immediately popped out at me that deserve attention.
John wants there to be a “nuanced, technically-informed, respectful discussion/debate/conversation/working relationship” between these two parties, but doesn’t see a way that can happen. He may be right when he says that one missing piece is civility. But another is that both parties need to approach this discussion honestly. Supporters of this bill have, in example after example, demonstrated no remorse in lying outright to support their position.
Opponents of the bill point out when its supporters are lying, and when they seem to be advocating for measures suited for repressive regimes. Maybe these are attacks, but they are also true. While both sides may need to tone down the vitriol, there is no hope of progress until everybody first agrees to give the process enough respect to stick to the truth.
(I’ll acknowledge that, in some cases, the bill’s supporters may simply be misinformed; that lack of information would be a consequence of them not taking the debate seriously. Or that they’re not being dishonest, per se, but intellectually dishonest. It’s hard to know without being in their head, but in any case, the point stands.)
John also rightly points out that we need to be thinking critically about how copyright law can and should work today, and he claims that part of that process needs to be acknowledging the real problem facing rightsholders. I agree, of course, with the first part. But I think the second needs to be examined closer. Rightsholders might only have a “real problem” in a very limited sense of the word.
The ease of copying can absolutely lead to missed profit opportunities. But as Steve Blank points out in the Atlantic, the content industry’s track record of identifying which technologies will ultimately be profitable is abysmal, and they’re also not alone in dealing with “piracy”. Every area of commerce grapples with the fact that bad actors can thwart controls, but only the content industries are willing (and able!) to destroy innovation in other sectors to control it.1
Combine that history with the first point — that studios and labels are willing to flat-out lie to support their points — and it becomes hard to take their “problem” seriously. The tech community isn’t denying that Internet users can download Hollywood movies off servers in Sweden, but what does that actually mean for their business? The rightsholders’ plain insincerity, the lack of real data to support their position, and their uncanny knack for attacking each new technology as it emerges conspire against the precariousness of their position.
Finally, and this is a point John acknowledges, these bills were not introduced in a way to foster a conversation. If the content industries were interested in a real conversation, they’d find willing participants. Trying to push through legislation that they wrote in secret with “Hollywood’s favorite Republican“, to a Congress they’ve spent $91 million lobbying this year alone, does not demonstrate a good faith effort on their part.
A discussion about how copyright should be shaped and enforced in the face of changing technology and norms is a good one to have. But the people who recognize the importance of technology continue to be denied the opportunity to have that conversation with the other stakeholders. Instead, we have been put on the defensive against incoming legislative U-boats. Without a doubt, a meaningful dialogue would be better now and for the future; unfortunately, our only option at the moment is to point out the glaring flaws in these proposals and keep fighting them until they sink.
The content industry may even be better off than other industries when it comes to piracy, because the version they face — copyright infringement — isn’t even theft. ↩
The first week of the new year: time to make resolutions about the sort of person you want to be, and the sorts of behaviors you want to have. Go to the gym, blog more, that sort of thing.
Of course, these promises don’t usually pan out on the strength of the resolution alone; you need a bit of a carrot and/or a stick to make you stick to it.
In case you don’t know the rules of Iron Blogger: every participant must post something to her blog every week. If she fails, she owes the organizer $5. (That’s the stick.) Once enough money has been collected, everybody goes out and gets beer with it. (That’s the carrot.) I’ve gotten a group of friends together to start, and if you’re in San Francisco and interested in participating, let me know.
In the spirit of BoingBoing’s annual charitable giving guide, here’s a list of organizations that I’ve given to this year. As far as I can tell, these groups are each doing great work, and deserve every penny they can get.
Electronic Frontier Foundation
I’ve given to the EFF in the past, but in the past two months of working there, I’ve got an even deeper respect for the work they do. On so many fronts, the EFF has your back.
Free Software Foundation
I happily renewed my membership in the Free Software Foundation this year. Few organizations are as consistent and dedicated to their ideals as the FSF is to software freedom, and their licenses have been a de facto standard in the software world for decades now.
Creative Commons
The Creative Commons license suite is now nine years old, and the six core licenses have become part of the architecture of the web. The quantity of collaboration and creativity that this organization has enabled is staggering, and they’re doing good work now putting together the next major update to the licenses, version 4.0.
Mozilla
It’s easy to underestimate the impact Mozilla has had on the Web, especially now that Google Chrome has ensured they’re not the only high-quality free software browser around. It’s so important, though, that one of the major players in the browser space is run by a foundation that cares about users first. Top that off with the fact that Firefox is a great piece of software that keeps getting better, and these guys are a no-brainer.
The Wikimedia Foundation
The Wikimedia Foundation does so much — a top 10 website, advancing free culture and the world’s knowledge to everybody with access to the web — with so little: fewer than 100 employees, 400 servers, and a budget that’s a blip on the radar of many large companies. I know the face of Jimbo Wales causes nightmares to some, but it’s good to support these guys.
Software Freedom Law Center
Free software licenses are a lot less effective if they don’t have any “bite”, but there aren’t many lawyers who really get the concept of software freedom. Enter the Software Freedom Law Center, run by the inimitable Eben Moglen, who consistently advance the free software cause by counseling on patents, trademarks, and copyright licenses.
ACLU
The ACLU understands the importance of civil liberties, and isn’t afraid to take unpopular positions supporting them. They’ve also been working hard to protect personal freedoms for over 90 years, and know what they’re doing.
National Lawyer’s Guild
Like the ACLU, the NLG provides legal support where civil liberties are in danger. NLG works particularly with progressive political movements, and have played an instrumental role in the Occupy movements. You can find people with NLG numbers sharpied onto their bodies at every Occupation.
Mother Jones
Mother Jones provides good long-form, timely, investigative journalism. And because they’re reader-supported, they can focus more on what people want to read, and less about what ads look good next to. Their coverage of Occupy has been excellent, and they’ve been one of my favorite examples of print publications working on the Web.
Southern California Public Radio
KPCC out of Pasadena is the station I grew up listening to. Next year I’m likely to give to my local station in San Francisco, but KPCC is a great public resource in Los Angeles, and one I’m proud to support.
Without a doubt, there are many deserving organizations that aren’t on this list, devoted to these issues and others, but each of us is only able to chip away at the block so much. If there are charitable organizations that you feel strongly about, please share with me!
I’ve been impressed with the quality of language used to describe the Stop Online Piracy Act. The bill is a disaster for the internet, and its opponents are devising some pretty creative ways of expressing that. Two of my favorites:
This isn’t even throwing the baby out with the bathwater. This is bludgeoning the baby repeatedly with a sledgehammer and then throwing out the whole bathroom.
A third clause says the bill shouldn’t be construed in a way that would impair the security or integrity of the network—which is a bit like slapping a label on a cake stipulating that it shouldn’t be construed to make you fat.
SOPA in a nutshell: If a criminal hid counterfeit goods in a bank safe deposit box, SOPA would allow the legitimate IP owner to shut down the entire bank and all other branches without any notice, search warrant, or due process.