Lest we forget

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The scar that the First World War left on the history of the twentieth century is almost immeasurable.  Even now, divided from those events by almost a century, the names of the battles fought in that conflict - the Somme, Verdun, Passendale, Vimy Ridge, Gallipoli - are still capable of haunting the imagination and have become bywords for slaughter on a near inconceivable scale and suffering of a level that seems almost beyond human endurance. Even now, it is near impossible not to be moved by the memories of the very last surviving veterans of that conflict. 

The First World War is instructive for those considering technology. It was the perverted conclusion of an optimistic period in human history, where new technology was regarded as a great social good, fuelling economic growth, curing disease, making life easier and creating the first mass consumption economies. However, the same technology and associated modes of production could be turned to more malevolent purposes - the machine gun, poison gas, artillery and the bomber plane were as much a product of industrialisation as were the steam train, vaccines, the Hoover and the Ford Model T. The scale of production employed in the war was quite staggering. To take one example, by the end of the conflict, the total amount of barbed wire on the 400-miles of the Western Front would have stretched around the equator four-and-a-half times. The growing technological and industrial capabilities of the developed world had long outstripped the capabilities of leaders and generals to understand the destructive potential of their states when coupled with those new technologies. And the supreme, tragic irony: technology that had been developed in the name of progress ultimately had exactly the opposite impact - it reduced men to living in the blasted, blooded earth, surviving in the most bestial conditions.

Now we are on the cusp of a new technological epoch, possibly one as important and dramatic as the industrial revolution. Already there are signs of the potential dangers that it creates, and surely there will be more significant and damaging ones to follow in the coming decades.  This isn't a call for technological conservatism or luddism, let me be clear about that. Instead, I am arguing that with technological developments comes a huge responsibility to understand the implications and ramifications of those changes, and to prepare ourselves for them. The First World War provides a terrifying example of what can happen when societies fail to do this.
 

Internet Election 2.0?

Lately, I have been making a collection of innovative uses of digital media in the electoral context, for an ad-hoc report I am invited to work on. Here are a couple of examples I am personally impressed with.

 

First, the Candidate Match Game put up by USA Today [below]. In an earlier post, I wrote about VoteMatch, a website that calculates for you which party or candidate is most matched to your political preferences. This is an American equivalent - with an obvious American flavour added.

Candidate Match Game

 

The second one is something called the Issue Coverage Tracker by the Washington Post. It's a rather nicely visualised archive of media coverage of the candidates for the US presidential election of 2008.

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You can see a breakdown by major issue categories or candidates. If you click on a candidate, it displays in relation to which issue among the 9 he/she receives most and least media coverage. Likewise, if you click on an issue, it will show which candidate is most mentioned in relation to the given issue. If you click through, you can also access original sources including news organisations, political parties, interest groups, bloggers, etc. You can also have widgets to track certain candidates of your choice on your blog or MySpace/Facebook page, of course.

tracker5

 

Following election coverage couldn't be easier than this, could it? Only if you care enough to make a few clicks and are willing to read...

 

* Thanks to Han for alerting me to these.

** Cross-posted on my website.

Paul's haul

Predicting electoral politics is a mug's game, which seems to rely as much on luck as any kind of skill, knowledge or learning.  Likewise, smugness isn't a very attractive emotion. Despite, this I'm trying hard not to just feel a tiny smidgen of pleasure that something I wrote in early May, when I asked whether Ron Paul could be the Howard Dean of '08, seems to have come to pass in recent days.

If you've been following events from the other side of the Atlantic, you will know that Paul's November 5th "Guy Fawkes" fundraising drive is one the most if not the most successful successful fundraising day in American political history (this depends on who you believe - plenty of Paul supporters are saying it is the best, whilst MSNBC are claiming Hillary Clinton's $6.2 million day at the end of June is in fact still the record. There is certainly a general consensus that Paul broke the GOP all-time record).

So what is going on? First thing's first - the jury is still very much out the significance of this fundraising or what it says about the size of Ron Paul's support base. Andy commented on my original post way back in May, suggesting that the noise the Paul supporters were making was disproportionate to their actual number - and this suspicion still remains. Recently, for example, right-leaning political blog Red State banned newly registered users from "pimping Ron Paul". Whilst Paul's fundraising achievements are undoubtedly impressive, it could still be the product of a relatively small number of activists, at least in comparison with the level of political support that is actually required to become a serious challenger to the frontrunners for the nomination. However, what the money might do is give the Paul campaign the capacity to reach out - ironically via television advertising - to a far greater number of potential voters. That might be the real achievement of his Internet activist base.

I would also recommend this really excellent blog post by Republican political consultant Patrick Ruffini. It makes a couple of arguments. Firstly, it argues that there are two distinctive forms of Internet fundraising. Email-based fundraising, where messages are sent out to lists are necessarily top-down and hierarchical. As a result, this strategy is favoured by mainstream candidates on both sides. In contrast, the tactics employed by the Dean campaign in 2003/2004 and Paul in 2007 (and to a lesser degree Mick Huckabee) are about decentralisation. They rely on entrepreneurial activists, acting independently of the campaign through blogs and online networks, but also require a willingness on the part of candidates and their campaign managers to cede some control.

Ruffini then goes on to make a provocative and very interesting claim - that it is the Republicans who are making the running in decentralised Internet campaigning in 2007/2008, whilst Democrats are strictly adhereing to a top-down model. This claim is unusual, because it seems to fly in the face of a lot of established wisdom (or at least wisdom that has become established since 2004) - namely that it is the Democrats who are good at the Internet, and the GOP lag lightyears behind them. 

I certainly see the point that Ruffini is making, and I can think of one explanation as to why it might be accurate. If we think back to the Dean campaign in 2003/2004, a large proportion of its success was oppositional. Dean was unusual in the field, as he was speaking out aggressively against the Bush administration and the Iraq war. In contrast, his opponents were, at that time at least, all supportive of the invasion of Iraq - a position largely at odds with the Democratic base. Dean fed off the dissatisfaction towards the party's elites this created amongst activists. Fast-forward to now, and the general impression amongst Democrats - the odd Hillary-hater aside - seems to be a warm feeling towards most of the candidates running for the Presidency. A common refrain I have read on message boards is Democrats talking about how they are spoilt for choice and how more than one of their candidates would make a fine nominee. In contrast, a recurring message amongst Republicans is one of disappointment and uncertainty. There is no natural candidate in the field that seems to be invigorating the party-base. Indeed, this seems to be at least part of the reason why Giuliani candidacy is standing up better than many people had predicted (please see my previous comments about predictions being a mug's game, but I still strongly suspect Giuliani will not be the Republican nominee). But it does seem that politics abhors a vacuum. In 2004, Dean was able to fill that gap for Democratic activists. This time around, the gap is on the Republican side, and it seems that Ron Paul is taking on the role.

But I also have one problem with Ruffini's analysis too, which seems a little bit mechanistically partisan (a point that he himself implicitly acknowledges in his next post). After all, is it really fair to even think of Ron Paul as a Republican? He actually ran for the Presidency as a Libertarian in 1988, and now, following his fundraising exploits, there is talk that he might go for another third-party run in 2008. Furthermore, his principles and political ideology can hardly be described as being instep with the recent history of the Republican party (anti-foreign interventionism, in favour of a minimal state and balanced budget, against a gay marriage constitutional amendment, and, on libertarian grounds, against an anti-flag burning constitutional amendment, just to list some issues). But even more importantly, we have to ask whether the people supporting and giving money to him are even really Republicans in a meaningful sense? If we doubt they are (and I think there are good reasons to), it might be more appropriate to think of Paul's campaign as an example of Internet-fuelled entryism, rather than evidence of a new Republican Internet success story. 

Spot the special guest

Lots of blogging tonight, but I might as well finish off with a funny one, which shows a slightly different way for politicians to get their message out there.

With a hat tip to comment central, here's a a really good sketch from the clever people at Saturday Night Live. It even has a special guest in it.

Tweetie pie

I have a Twitter account, although I'm not a very good user of it. I only really have it set up to power an RSS feed on my blog, and I don't update it regularly (about once a week if you are lucky) and my tweets are always pretty bland and uninteresting. So I have to confess, I've never really grasped the internal architecture of twitter and how people interact with each other through the service. Very few people have asked to follow my tweets (and if you read them, you'd know why... Nick is "Writing.... very slowly" and "about to start teaching" being two of the more interesting posts).

But today something really strange happened. Suddenly I became very popular indeed - and with a very unlikely group of people. At nine o'clock this morning, RonPaul33 asked to follow me. Intrigued, I looked at his page - it just seemed to lead to lots and lots and lots of articles on Ron Paul. I had no idea what this was - something from the Ron Paul campaign? Enterprising amateur supporters? An elaborate form of spam? And I certainly had no idea why they had decided to pick on me.

But it didn't stop there. BillRichardson4 (12:02), JohnEdwards54 (14:02), RudyGiuliani32 (14:02), JohnMcCain43 (14:03), MikeHuckabee47 (15:04), TommyThompson43 (15:04), and HillaryClinton5 (19:01) all said they wanted to follow my twitter feed. So what on earth is going on? I suspect it is not that I have become hot property in the battle for the White House. Besides, the feeds certainly aren't official, as this is the real John Edwards twitter RSS.

I would suspect some kind of scam, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it could be or how anyone might be benefiting. And the pages with links to news stories on them look fairly genuine. I suppose it is possible that it is a group of highly competitive amateurs who monitor each other, and when they saw RonPaul33 had contacted me they all followed suit. But that explanation seems pretty far-fetched.

Does anyone have any suggestions as to what is going on?

Digital natives and digital literacy

I don't want to get into the habit of having a go at Internet megabrands on this blog, but I do have to confess to both loving and hating iTunes. Part of the problem is probably that my computer isn't the quickest and nor is it very well organised either, but sometimes iTunes just seems to take an age to crank itself into gear, especially if you open it up to see perhaps the thirteen most dreaded words in the English language... "There is an iTunes update available. Would you like to download it now?" - when you see that, you know you aren't going to be hearing any music for half an hour (all that said, I still vastly prefer iTunes to any other player that I have tried... if anyone has any other suggestions for players they love, they would be gratefully received).

This general slowness is particularly annoying when you just have a sudden urge to listen to one track - it is hardly worth booting the software up. Instead, I have found myself using YouTube when I want to hear a song, even a song I have on my computer, as it just seems much quicker.

This evening, for reasons largely unknown, I suddenly found myself with a deep hankering to listen to Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple. Whilst the track was playing, and as you do on YouTube, I started to have a look at the comments that people had left behind about the video, and one really got me thinking. It simply said: "what year was the song made in?" (sorry, there isn't a way to link to individual comments on YouTube, so you'll have to take word for it). And sure, enough a little conversation had ensued between the people trying to answer the question.

On the one hand, this is exactly the kind of conversation that YouTube seems to be suited too - short, snappy, rapid and to the point. But it also establishes a huge contradiction. The guy who posted the comment is Canadian, 22 years old and obviously, by virtue of using and commenting on YouTube, completely comfortable with producing web content, even if it is in a limited way. He sounds the definition of web 2.0 digital literate (or a digital native, to use a term that was created - and has been used by many researchers in the area) to highlight generational differences in how people behave online.

But the behavior of this individual (and he isn't alone - look at any YouTube stream to see similar examples) also raises a pretty big question in my mind: why ask the for information on YouTube when he could have found the answer he wanted nearly instantly with Google or Wikipedia? I can only think of two possible explanations.

Firstly, we might need to think about our definition of digital literacy. People may learn to use certain sites, for example YouTube, but then not have the confidence to use other sites, even if academics and commentators tend push them altogether in this thing we call "web 2.0". If this were the case, it might seriously undermine the notion of a digital native, which certainly contains an implicit assumption of comfort with technology and transferable skills. 

Secondly, it does seem possible that, on occasions, people behaving in this way only see the information they are obtaining as having secondary importance. It might be that their primary goal is to enter into a community with like minded individuals. So - like they would at any good party - they make small talk.

P.S. And of course I had to put the video up. Enjoy (and I dare you not to be humming the intro riff all day).

Allowing tragedy to take hold

In Tel Aviv last night I happened to be one of 150,000 people at a rally to mark the 12th anniversary of the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. Rabin was killed by Yigal Amir, a right-wing extremist who was opposed to Rabin signing the Oslo Accords in 1993, at which Palestinian leaders recognised Israel’s right to exist and a two-state solution reached the agenda (the Accords also brought Nobel Peace Prizes to Rabin, Shimon Peres and Yasser Arafat). The rally was a very flat affair. Attended seemingly only by secular, liberal Israelis, even the secular, liberal newspaper Haaretz described the memorial as ‘hollow’: politicians said nice things about peace, political will, and defeating extremists on either side (note the irony-free militarised rhetoric by peace advocates), although one of these very ministers has authorised further ‘blackouts and starvation’ in Gaza, Haaretz’ commentator noted.rabin.jpg

Today, from prison, Yigal Amir will be permitted to attend his week-old son’s circumcision ceremony. Peace protestors threaten to block the road to the prison, but others on the left and Israeli media academics fret that this will simply generate more publicity for Amir and his cause (the “oxygen of publicity” debate). At the memorial rally last night, Defence Minister Ehud Barak said of Amir, ‘the prison gates will shut him in until his dying day’, Barak unashamedly further politicising a legal decision in a moment of populism. Amir’s family already attract considerable media attention and it seems likely the son will never escape the spotlight, ensuring the event lives on for generations.

There is nothing I can write in a quick blog post that would adequately treat this situation, but from a political communications angle one aspect worth pointing out is the relationship between events, rituals and myths. There are lots of events in a nation’s life, but not all are so entwined with rituals. A death and a birth: Each year the event will be there, as a memorial and a birthday, and media will give it life, drawn to the metaphorical suggestiveness and easy narrative resonance. Perhaps ‘event’ when ritualised in this way is as much verb as noun, inasmuch as an event is done, repeatedly, sometimes tiresomely. Like any early death, an assassination creates an absence: those here on the left ask, if Rabin has lived, would he have won more elections and would there have been a better chance of peace? The absence creates and feeds the myth of Rabin. In these ways, the story of the nation as well as political divisions are reinforced around the event. So might anything break this link of event, ritual and myth? Allowing the link to embed itself seems the path of least resistance for a dispirited society, for it offers its own certainties and reassurances, if only of the bleakest kind.

MSc New Political Communication

Could I take this opportunity to alert you to our new MSc stream in New Political Communication?

The MSc examines the interplay between digital new media and communication technologies, political institutions, behaviour and public policy, with emphases on citizen engagement, mobilization, campaigning, and the role of new media in the global system. Covers e-democracy, e-government, e-campaigning, citizen journalism, new media, war, and conflict.

You can read more about it, including details of how to apply online, here

Please direct inquiries to the Masters Coordinator, Dr James Sloam.

Islamophobia and the media, a decade on

It is a decade this week since the Runnymede Trust report on Islamophobia was published in the UK. It identified instances of anti-Islamic and anti-Muslim representations in British media, and tried to define Islamophobia in a rigorous way. The hope was that media would acknowledge when they were being Islamophobic and change their habits. A decade on, Chris Allen argues the report failed: it had little impact on Islamophobia in British public life. We might suggest that it is a little naïve to think journalists and news editors would take notice of such a report, or that the presence of anti-Islamic attitudes are not simply an effect of media, but Allen’s observations about how Islamophobia has changed are interesting. It is not simply that Islamphobia has increased, but that it has become naturalised and more nuanced, he argues. There have been some decent studies of these processes, for instance in the work of Elizabeth Poole and John E. Richardson (and both).

There is much talk that participatory new media will allow those disillusioned with mainstream media to create their own representations of what’s going on in the world, and in this way change the contours and character of the national public sphere. Those feeling that their voices and opinions are systematically excluded from the mainstream have their chance to tell their own stories, and not allow their identities to be defined solely by others. Can we say whether the apparent failure of the Runnymede report and residual Islamophobia in Britain are an indictment or product of that vision, or are things more complex? Does Islamophobia even exist?

Web 3.0: Good riddance to the wisdom of crowds?

Just because we can now access any news source from anywhere in the world doesn't mean we will. Just because we can set up RSS feeds to deliver the latest information specific to our interests doesn't mean we trust any of it. And just because anyone can post on the web, this doesn't necessarily mean media and communication have become more democratic. After a decade under seige, are we beginning to see the expert to fight back? Is the conventional wisdom that a broader marketplace of ideas will generate 'better' information under threat? Writing in the Guardian Media section this week, Anthony Lilley ponders whether it is sometimes useful, when you want to learn about something, to go to someone with expertise. Is this what Web 3.0 will be all about? He refers to a comment by Jason Calacanis: "Web 3.0 is the creation of high-quality content and services produced by gifted individuals using web 2.0 technology as an enabling platform. Web 3.0 throttles the 'wisdom of the crowds' from turning into the 'madness of the mobs' we've seen all too often, by balancing it with a respect of experts."

Is it not the case that audiences want some enduring news source they can trust, rather than a squillion partial voices? In the UK, the majority of audiences rely on a single primary source, the BBC, even today. In a decade's time, surely key individuals (trusted anchors and columnists) will remain ‘optimal passage points’ for news, but these may not be the same key individuals as was the case in the twentieth broadcasting era. How will the balance between participatory media and credible expertise unfold? Can the wisdom of crowds and the judgement of the few be reconciled in new ways?