Owning One’s Data with Jennifer Lyn Morone (Podcast)

Jennifer Lyn Morone Part I
Jennifer Lyn Morone Part II

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we are presently grappling with existential questions posed by big data and at the same time, considering the social implications of rulings by the supreme court in both Citizens United and Hobby Lobby.   In fact, I believe we have an unprecedented mandate at this point in history to more rigorously consider the distinction between human beings their inventions. The nature of existence itself is changing as we atomize experience into data that is bought and sold as a new commodity.  At the same time, many of us in the United States are concerned about the precedents set when corporate entities appear to be endowed with the same rights as living beings.  A corporation is a tool.  Technology is a tool.  But whether us makers are using these tools or they are using us is a question yet to be answered. And examination includes choices about personal privacy and the economic value of ourselves as expressed in a body of data.

Jennifer Lyn Morone, Inc from jennifer morone on Vimeo.

In this podcast, I talk with Jennifer Lyn Morone, who is in the start-up phase of bringing to market Jennifer Lyn Morone™ Incorporated.  An American artist who has lived in Europe for more than a decade, Morone has chosen to address these social, economic, and existential questions with a venture that is part experiment, part cultural statement, and part business.  By incorporating herself, Jennifer Lyn Morone will now be the CEO of Jennifer Lyn Morone, Inc., and that means literally treating her life, her experiences, her knowledge, even her biological data, as a set of assets to be fully managed and monetized at the discretion of the corporation.  This Fall, Morone will begin using a combination of cameras and data recording technology to track her activities and store information on servers controlled by the corporation.  I think this is not going to be just another example of web-enabled voyeurism.  Morone is serious about the business venture, and she’s eager to share what she learns as she explores the dual nature of being both a person and a corporation.

Visit Jennifer Lyn Morone™ Inc. website.

So wait, Google is pro censorship?

Sometimes one is confronted with an absurdity so self-evident that it defies an introductory sentence.  So, I wrote that sentence instead.  But what’s got me gobsmacked today is a story by Adam Sherwin writing for The Independent explaining that Google insisted the popular music site Drowned in Sound censor images of certain album covers on the grounds that they are “sexually explicit” and, therefore, violate existing policy that Google will not serve ads to sites with “adult or mature content.” Really?  Last I checked, half of Google’s arguments for failing to address matters like contributing to piracy were based on a stance against censorship.

First of all, I can login to YouTube right now, search the word sex, and get scads of results with sexually explicit thumbnails.  In fact, many of these thumbnails link to videos that are not so explicit as the pictures imply. So, I guess it’s okay for Google to use pornographic thumbnails in a bait-and-switch ploy to get users to click on videos that are ad supported, but if an artist depicts the naked human form (newsflash, artists do this sometimes) in a painting or other medium, then Google can arbitrarily label it “adult mature content” and out of bounds? I know one man’s art is another’s pornography, and this subjectivity is an important standard for the protection of free speech; but somehow mainstream advertisers seem to know pornography when they see it because you won’t find their brands on actual pornographic sites (I asked a friend).  But consider this…

One of the covers targeted by Google for censorship was for the album OH (Ohio) by the band Lambchop.  The irony in this case is pretty thick considering the painting depicting two lovers in bed in the foreground with a scene of police brutality through the window in the background evokes of one of the most famous visual themes in the history of Western art — that of Olympia.  Probably the most well-known and most overly-adapted Olympia is Manet’s painting of the nude courtesan, which debuted in 1865.  It was scandalous in its time, not so much for the nudity but for the blatant depiction of a prostitute looking right at the viewer. The Lambchop cover is a painting by artist Michael Peed, a friend and former professor of frontman Kurt Wagner, and Peed references the familiar Manet composition to create a scene that is provocative in our times.  The counterpoint between the intimacy of the lovers and the abuse by the police is a wry statement that one can interpret as one may choose, but that it should be censored by Google of all entities has got to at least make you wonder what all their pro-culture, pro-speech horse shit is all about.  Take this for what it’s worth, but the censored version with pixel blurs over the “naughty bits” inadvertently makes an even more disturbing statement about America — that sex remains offensive while police brutality is not.  Well played, Company That Shall Not Be Evil.

We should not lose sight of the significance of an entity like Google exerting its influence, even in this small case.  An individual advertiser may, and should, choose what kind of media associations best suit its brand.  You probably won’t see Betty Crocker commercials during Adult Swim, for instance.  But should an ad service business — and in this case the only ad service business —  be entitled to arbitrarily label creative works “sexually explicit” and requiring censorship? If Peed’s painting meets that definition, then so does nearly every nude in every museum and gallery in the world. I thought the Internet was the proverbial garden of free expression.  I also thought Google was just a neutral highway that has neither interest in nor responsibility for the manner in which users drive.

Admittedly, even for Google-scale hypocrisy, it is an enigmatic choice to commit such a blatant act of censorship where there isn’t even a hint of gray area regarding the works in question.  Is this the result of killjoy bots?  Or is it a sign that Google will soon be throwing even more prudish sops to its new conservative friends among DC influence-peddlers?  No matter what the thinking (and I use that word generously) may be in this case, the disturbing implications of the precedent cannot be overstated.  To be outside the Google universe is to be effectively off the web, at least as far as monetization goes. This is an absurd amount of power for any single company to wield. And seeing as we are no longer able to distinguish between corporations and people in the United States, I’m not at all ready to let the whims of centaurs in Silicon Valley or anywhere else define what it means to be indecent.

Disruptive Behavior

Bullshit and buzzwords go together like pick-up lines and Jagermeister.  And the bullshit buzzword of our times it seems is disruption.  Being disruptive used to get your mom called into school for a conference with the teacher; but ever since Clay Christensen published The Innovator’s Dilemma in 1989, we’ve been fascinated by the disruptive kids, especially the ones who play with tech toys — even when they fail.  In fact, as Jill Lapore points out in this piece in The New Yorker, Christensen’s study of disruption (and she points to some flaws in his work) is a study of business failure.  In her summary, Lapore writes, “Disruptive innovation is a theory about why businesses fail. It’s not more than that. It doesn’t explain change. It’s not a law of nature. It’s an artifact of history, an idea, forged in time; it’s the manufacture of a moment of upsetting and edgy uncertainty. Transfixed by change, it’s blind to continuity. It makes a very poor prophet.”

The first thing to hate (or at least distrust) about buzzwords is that their meanings are diluted because they are buzzwords.  I remember when MTV’s reality programming was a relatively new thing and video producers working in New York would ask a shooter or an editor to make something edgy.  But if every project is edgy, then we lose any context for what edgy actually means, and so it means whatever edginess looks like to whoever is in charge.  Cameramen and editors would smile and nod, thinking, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you’re happy, and I get paid, we’re good.”

The word disruptive has produced an aroma of ambiguity to say the least.  In fact, I’d say the term is getting rather gamey the more it is applied to just about any proposal (i.e. tech startup) that breaks convention, even if we maybe don’t want the convention broken.  For instance, we probably do not hope to foster a culture in which, say, armed robbery is reframed as “disruptive finance.”   Admittedly, Kickstarter is a virtuous example of disruptive finance, although it may be too soon to say for sure that crowd-funding is here to stay.  As Jaron Lanier points out in Who Owns the Future, “Kickstarter continues to produce some wonderful success stories and a huge ocean of doomed or befuddled proposals. Maybe the site will enter into an endless game with scammers and the clueless, as it scales up, and render itself irrelevant.”  And as if on cue, I see in my news feed that a young man has raised about ten thousand dollars on Kickstarter to make potato salad.  Not life-saving potato salad.  Just potato salad.

In truth, I’m not picking on Kickstarter; I hope the site continues to evolve as a positive force, and so does Lanier.  But I am also by nature skeptical of religion, even apparently secular religions that see magic in technology and the social engineering promoted by its entrepreneurs.  And in the words of the silicon prophets, we will one day all be entrepreneurs. And it will be good.  A new venture in robotics may one day disrupt truck drivers out of their jobs, but not to worry because other disruptive innovations like Uber and Lyft offer a new way to make a living in transportation, right?  In reality, only sort of, and for a select few individuals in certain markets. And these few are likely making supplementary rather than primary income. Meanwhile, as we cheer for disruption sector by sector, and get a little buzz off the initial cool factor and implicit independence of an entrepreneurial society, we overlook the fact that we’re disrupting accountability, liability, and a network of social safety nets that were largely constructed in the late 20th century.  These include everything from insurance and pension funds to environmental regulations.

If you think you’re angry that certain investment bankers didn’t go to prison after the housing crisis, stand by.  It can get worse  in a market that disrupts thousands or millions of jobs into obsolescence with the false promise that we can all be networked entrepreneurs.  And again, as Lanier points out, many of these disruptive innovations built on networked systems he calls Siren Servers rely on making the servers unaccountable.  So, when we consider the larger implications of unregulated taxi services, for instance, it isn’t as simple as labeling such caution mere stodginess begging for unfettered disruption.

It is tempting these days to get high on the narcotic of tearing down systems and apparent empowerment of taking what feels like control via networked servers.  We forget, however, that these networked servers are not necessarily designed with said empowerment in mind despite what the marketing messages say.  They are designed to make money right now for the relatively small number of individuals whom we revere for being disruptive innovators.  But networked systems want efficiency, while democratic societies that support the well being of a majority of its population are notoriously inefficient. And that’s not always a bad thing.