I don’t gave a computer. I don’t have an iPad. My entire digital existence is conducted on an iPhone, and almost everything we do is digital. All our business and finances, a lot of our shopping, all our transportation, much of our medical stuff, all the social media, all the research and every last word I write. I didn’t realize this was strange until today. We manage our lives out of a red folder containing a few papers, two old fashioned and ink smeared calendars, a few sheets of scrawled monthly budgets on a clipboard (remember clipboards?), and this iPhone. That is the entirety of our transactions, interactions and communications with the world outside our house. The thirty two year old Brick would find the sixty two year old Brick’s daily life utterly incomprehensible and certainly ominous. And the 62 year old Brick wonders how the 32 old Brick got anything done at all.
Huge hands with huge fingers are not an evolutionary advantage on a smart phone. I see my kind becoming extinct, like some sort of vastly fingered megafauna. I go to the La Brea tar pits and look at the skeletons of megatheriums with their huge clumsy claws and envision me thudding at a tiny digital keyboard with ridiculous fingers, tormented by GIFs.
New iPhone. First ever iPhone, actually. Last time I used anything Apple was 1993. I was much younger then. It’s a little weird and counter-intuitively disconcerting now, this iPhone, like learning an Indo-European language vaguely familiar but full of irregularities. Plus I’m ordering all these coffees at Starbucks and I don’t even know what they are.
Also, these Apple decals are stuck to my fingers. My shirt. My hair. That lady’s pants.
Oops, gotta run. Siri just told me it’s goat yoga time.
(Written c. 2008, when social media users were much more innocent, apparently.)
I’ve discovered that it is possible to use Facebook without revealing any information about yourself at all. None. What is required for registration you make up. You use an alias email. Therefore nothing of use goes to Facebook or any of the big, scary search engines that trawl the databases for whatever reason. You can even set up a fan page using your own name that requires giving no useful information. (Did I do that?). What is astonishing about Facebook is how all the information it has acquired on people is given over completely voluntarily. No torture necessary.
The scary fact is that none of the info they have on you is ever eliminated. There is no law requiring them to get rid of that info, the way there is with financial institutions, etc. Indeed, there are no laws about Facebook whatsoever. People simply cannot get themselves to believe that anything on the Internet could be, potentially, deep down malign. (This has certainly changed.) Yes Facebook is now, right now, being used to collect information on citizens in ways that neither the Third Reich’s RSHA or the Soviet’s KGB could ever imagine. I know paranoid leftists and paranoid rightists who will readily give all kinds of personal information to Facebook without batting an eye. I wish I could say I’m being paranoid but I worked in that side of the industry (data mining) for ten years. It is all about acquiring as much information from as many people as possible. There seems no limit to what people will tell a website. They have analytical tools now of astonishing sensitivity and breadth, and have ways of storing information is usable forms that are beyond the average person’s understanding. I’d constantly see the new tools coming out to mine that info. They were able to get more and more specific. When you can direct ad campaigns at individual users—that means someone knows so much about you that they can accurately predict what will attract you to send money. There are technologies now that can be that specific across databases that contain millions of individuals. They can even see what those people look like. There are pictures of them posted everywhere. Not only on their own site but on other people’s sites. Facebook didn’t develop that technology as a favor to its users.
HR departments regularly go to Facebook and do a search on an applicant’s name to see what comes up. (This was new at the time.) The applicant doesn’t even have to be registered with Facebook. If some jerk posted a photo of you on their website smoking a joint and then tags your name…..there goes that job. Same with security clearances. Medical insurance. SSI. Credit companies. Homeland Security. And that is just in this country. They all use Facebook and people just pretend they don’t. People think Facebook is all about having friends. Facebook is about information. That’s why it’s worth a gajillion dollars.
Facebook knows that a sucker is born every minute.
I keep seeing posts from people ranting and raving about NSA spying…which is worth ranting and raving about, except that they are doing their ranting and raving on Facebook. Not that there’s any other way to rant and rave anymore (unless you can tweet and rave it in 140 characters). But there’s the irony… The Facebook collective community seem to believe deep down that Facebook is essentially a social network, but actually Facebook is the world’s greatest personal information gathering machine ever. Hence its colossal financial value. And no matter how much you think the NSA knows about you, Facebook and everyone who data mines its collected data know much more about you. Every single time you do anything on Facebook, even reading this very paragraph (this was originally a post), is additional data for Facebook that can be data mined by anyone. You are already being spied on. I don’t believe the NSA is actually spying on you through your computer..I believe that all they are doing is accessing the Facebook database and all the other databases that you have poured information into through registration, profile information, key words, liking and not liking, surveys, tags, online purchases, online browsing, online banking, online photos, comments, searches, MapQuest info, emailing, texting, you name it. There is scarcely a keystroke you make on your keyboard that does not show up in someone’s database. Data mining is one of the most sophisticated technologies the Internet industry has yet developed, and it only gets more sophisticated and refined. If any of you saw a profile of yourself based on the data obtained through your internet usage you would be astounded at how much like you it is. And as far as the Internet is concerned, that profile is more you than you are.
Even if not everything I said here is happening right now, it almost certainly and imminently will be. The technology is so advanced. There will soon be a time when every commercial you see on your cable TV, every ad you see online when you open a website, and even junk snail mail and sales and fundraising calls will be personalized per a profile developed through extremely sophisticated data mining of your registration and online activity. It’s already started. The Obama campaign’s data mining was so sophisticated the Romney campaign had no idea what hit them. There ain’t a marketer in the country that failed to notice that one.
It seems to me that when you all entered the virtual world of the Internet, you gave up your selves. Not your corporeal self, but your virtual self. And your virtual self is far more important right now than your real self. You are what you type. And Facebook, the NSA and anyone else who has access to you online knows it. Including every law enforcement organization that has access to the internet. That is how they spy on you. They don’t have to ask you a damn thing. You already told them. And those are the entities that can reach right through the Internet and pick up your corporeal self and toss it in jail, or at least keep it off airliners. Your corporeal self may never hurt anybody, threaten anybody, or be anything but nice, but your digital self may have done something suspicious, somehow. And it’s too late to do anything about it now.
There’s that word again. No idea what it means. So I took a quick look at the Wikipedia entry. Ontology, it explained, is the philosophical study of the nature of being, existence or reality.
Then I closed the window.
But it wouldn’t close. The frame hung there. I clicked the little x in the corner. Nothing. Again. Still nothing. Then I pulled up the Task Manager. It showed no applications running. None. But the Wikipedia ontology page was there. I could see it. The philosophical study, it still said, of the nature of being, existence or reality.
Yet the task manager said it could not be there.
So I turned off the computer. All that being, existence and reality went poof. I sat there staring at a blank screen.
Then I powered up the computer. It whirred and plinked and blinked and offered me a choice. I could go to my home page, or return to my original session.
I chose the latter.
The wikipedia page reappeared. Ontology, it explained, is the philosophical study of the nature of being, existence or reality. But was the page really there? I clicked the little x in the corner, and it vanished. Poof.
I didn’t start working as a print journalist until 2004. I quit in 2011. Watching print journalism’s disintegration from ringside seats was incredible. Writing for one of the nation’s leading alternative weeklies as alternative weeklies found their raison d’etre disappearing was almost surreal, the medium seemed to go from important to unimportant in months. At the same time I had a front row seat to watching radio begin to disappear, as jazz radio seemed to suffer the worst first. I saw first hand in a particularly brutal way how online journalism is disintegrating–I can’t write about that under fear of being sued, however. I have watched the recording industry fall apart for years. I’ve seen live paid performances disappear. I’ve seen photography destroyed. And now, since I’ve been blogging (just because I write incessantly, not as a professional move) I am watching blogging itself drowning in its own words. There are so many words, they’ve suffocated readers, turned the blogosphere anoxic. The Internet undermines everything. When everything is free and instantly accessible, no one will pay for anything. Pay to read, pay to listen, pay to view, or pay to run ads. Even if it not everything is free or accessible, something else just as good (or good enough, anyway) is free and instantly accessible so there’s no point. And there is really nothing that can be done about this. There is no working revenue model, as they say. Nobody gets paid. Words especially are rendered cheap as air.
The only revenue model anymore seems to be page hits. Every time a viewer clicks a link, a couple pennies change hands. So the only thing of any genuine financial significance on a website are links. Writing becomes nothing but content, stuff to fill the pages around the ads. Whether that writing is good or not is not of any significance at all. As long as it drives people to those ads, as long as it gets people to click the link. Music is no longer of particular importance in western civilization. It’s nice, but it’s not essential. And writing is quickly following. It’s nice to see good writing, but it’s no longer anything people really care about. It’s rather irrelevant. It’s time consuming. It certainly has no way to pay for itself. Writers made a dollar a word once because people once read all the words. If you wrote a five hundred word piece, they read all five hundred words. If you were a really good writer they demanded more. Now people read the first couple lines. Maybe the first paragraph. Sometimes the second paragraph. Sometimes they’d skip to the last paragraph to read how it comes out. They don’t with that bother anymore. Whatever they need to know has to be in the first paragraph or they will never know. And if no ones reads more than a few dozen words of a five hundred word piece, it is no longer worth a dollar a word. In fact, you’ll be lucky to get a dime a word.
It’s a weird time. There are few famous writers anymore, and almost no famous journalists. Everybody is a writer today, and the bar has been set so low by blogs and sponsored content that the very concept of good writing is becoming obsolete. Perhaps it is obsolete already, as people do not read enough of any single piece for the quality to matter. Writers have been trained by centuries of tradition to build up to the big finish, that memorable final line. But no one reads that far now. Everything past the first couple lines is probably wasted. It’s weird to think that of all the writing there is on the internet, only a tiny fraction of percent ever gets read. That is trillions of word wasted. Interesting prospect, that, in evolutionary terms. Our brains have, over the past five thousand years, developed this extraordinary talent for writing language. This is a really new thing. Mass literacy is only two centuries old (beginning in the United States and spreading globally since) and has had a profound impact on humans as a society and humans as a species. Cultures that can read and write thrive, those that can’t disappear. Languages without a written form will disappear quickly once a language with a written form moves in. Literacy has in a very brief time transformed the human world in many ways as profoundly as the evolution of spoken language itself. Yet suddenly almost nothing we use written language for is ever read. I suspect that much of the prose that has been written in this past decade has never seen by a pair of eyes. It is written, posted online in some form or another, and ignored. Texts, of course, are almost invariably read, but texting is more like speech than written language. But of all the writing on all those billions of websites? How much of that is ever read by anybody? Even individual page views mean in almost every case that only a couple sentences were read, nearly always at the top of the page. Most everything else on the page is little read and quite likely unread. Imagine if nearly all the words ever uttered were never heard. That’s what is happening with written language now, with nearly all the words being written never being read. Yet human beings are probably writing more now than we ever will again. This is the absolute apogee of the written word. There is writing everywhere, incredible amounts of it. But if no one is reading it, why is it being written? Language evolved as an ability to communicate. We talk to pass on information, basically. Written language evolved for the same reason. Yet now, in I would guess is most of the time, no information is being transmitted by written language because no one is reading what someone wrote. Semiotically written language is failing most of the time. You need to have a reader. Without readers, writing doesn’t have much of a useful function. Evolution, whether genetic or memetic, does not abide the unused for long. Frills fall by the wayside, forgotten. Nearly all writing is in that category now, useless and forgotten. There is simply no reason for it to exist at all.
In twenty years, perhaps in a decade, there will be less writers and less words. The trillions of words on the internet now will slow to a relative trickle. Everyone writes now because there used to be a profession called writing. There isn’t much of one now. Kids will not grow up to be writers when there are no readers. We will still read, and still write. But writing like we do it now, in books and stories and articles, that is probably ending. Perhaps the only ones of you who would adamantly disagree with that prediction are the handful who have gotten to this last sentence.