it's a good thing I like to dance
“Do you own technology or does technology own you?”
I’m really looking forward to reading the new book (The Next Story) by my friend Tim Challies. Below is a trailer produced by his publisher for the book. It is available for pre-order through Amazon.com and Westminster.
Look for an interview with Tim here at The Ascent to Truth in the next month or so.
(watch)
Seth Godin quotes Scott Turow, head of the Authors Guild, as saying that Shakespeare might have had trouble surviving in the world of the web, a place of “speedy, secret transmission of stolen goods.”
Godin points out the ironies of this and the parallels to the music industry:
The irony is thick here. First, Shakespeare never got a royalty check. Second, the only reason most people have even heard of the bard is that his plays can be produced for free, his plays are easily and cheaply found in many forms and editions and people can turn his work into movies without asking first. Shakespeare made a living based on people paying to come to his shows, live. Sort of the way a new breed of successful musicians are doing it today.
The music industry has been transformed by the spread of music online. The industry is reeling, but there’s more music than ever before, 
listened to more often by more people. No, I don’t expect the folks at Motown and BMG to like that, but it’s true.
The freelance writing industry has been transformed by the rise of blogs as well. No longer can writers expect to earn a living getting paid by the word to write for magazines that were the only way to reach people. I think we can agree that there isn’t a shortage of non-fiction expository writing, even though the industry has changed. Writers don’t have to like that, but it’s true.
Scott and his peers, arguing to maintain the status quo, are repeating the failed strategy of the RIAA and the record business instead of realizing what an opportunity the connectivity of the internet creates. All these readers! All these opportunities to build direct connections with them. All these chances to have your ideas spread…
Scott writes, [progress is] “… the result of abiding by rules that were carefully constructed and practices that were begun by people living in the long shadow of the Dark Ages. We tamper with those rules at our peril.” He’s a much better writer than I will ever be. But he’s a lousy student of history. There are plenty of practices that were invented in the shadow of the Dark Ages that we’re much better off without. Bloodletting, for example.
In a world where attention is the scarce resource, the enemy as Tim O’Reilly put it, is obscurity, not piracy. Particularly for the vast majority of the membership of the Author’s Guild. You can’t sue your way to attention, and we shouldn’t legislate writing back to a world of scarcity.
Brilliant.
Nielsen, the same people who do TV ratings, recently noted that more than 60% of new Twitter users fail to return to the site the following month.
Judging Twitter retention by how many people “visit the site” is like judging Dominoes Pizza by how many people dine-in.
It’s true that like blogging and any other social media, a lot of people try it and the many quickly give up. And with the explosive growth recently you have to expect a good number of window shoppers.
But Twitter is unique in how open it is, allowing users to interact from unlimited points of access without ever having to go to Twitter.com.
So judging retention by how many people are regularly visiting a site works for Facebook and MySpace (because you have to go there to do anything), it’s kind of apples-to-oranges to apply the same criteria to Twitter.
Follow me on Twitter here.
Marshall McLuhan began his 1964 book Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man, with the following:
“In a culture like ours, long accustomed to splitting and dividing all things as a means of control, it is sometimes a bit of a shock to be reminded that, in operational and practical fact, the medium is the message.”
For nearly a half-century now, students of media have been contemplating the repercussions of McLuhan’s statement.
In Flickering Pixels: How Technology Shapes Your Faith, Shane Hipps attempts to apply McLuhan’s thinking to the realm of faith. Hipps seems doubly qualified to tackle the content – a former ad exec for Porsche, Hipps turned his back on the lucrative career, entered seminary, and became a Mennonite Pastor.
Hipps writes with excellent pacing, clear prose, and a good bit of humor. Unfortunately, in this book at least, his focus is lacking at times and nonexistent at others. Entire chapters (although they are short) are devoted to issues that have no relation to the topic of the book at all. The first ten chapters, in fact, are a fascinating application of McLuhan’s ideas. After that, however, more chapters than not add nothing to the stated purpose of the book: awareness of the effects of technology on our faith.
In chapter 11 Hipps turns his focus to social media – in his terms “virtual community” – which he claims “inoculates people against the desire to be physically present with others in real social networks”. It’s at this point that Hipps loses me. He attacks everything from blogs to instant messaging to Facebook and relegates them to the status of cotton candy.
While his concerns are well heeded, in some portions of the book Hipps fails at being a student of modern media and instead becomes a reactionary critic against it.
He describes the digital shorthand of today’s teens as “an invisibility cloak to adult eyes” and “a deliberate teen encryption method,” claiming that, “those who learn it become like medieval scribes, hoarding scrolls containing sacred information.” I can barely resist responding with “LOL.”
“Slang,” McLuhan says in the introduction to Understanding Media, “offers an immediate index to changing perception… The student of media will not only value slang as a guide to changing perception, but he will also study media as bringing about new perceptual habits.”
The main idea of the chapter is that internet technology reverses the order of familial authority by granting young people “startling and unprecedented freedom…the digital space is a land without supervision.” This is proven, but his analysis and prescriptions are flawed. To parents struggling to balance digital boundaries with their simultaneous desire avoid their kids being left out or left behind, Hipps reminds them that “digital space is the most anemic form of social interaction available,” before saying, “maybe being left out of this is a good thing.”
While I take no issue with boundaries and parental authority, if parents are actually capable of keeping their kids entirely free of the damaging effects of social media, surely then a more nuanced and moderate approach is also possible. Similar prescriptions were no doubt giving with the advent of other now common technologies; the automobile for example enabled young adults (and their passengers) to easily travel further from parental supervision than previously possible, where they could get into who-knows-what kind of trouble.
While I sympathize with Hipps’ concerns over the separating effects of technology, I cannot take the view that these technologies should be shunned. I cannot endorse the view – nor do I find if verifiable from personal experience – that these technologies intrinsically “inoculate(s) people against the desire to be physically present with others in real social networks”.
Digital community can be an enhancement and a supplement to flesh-and-blood community. Hipps has taken the tack of using the habits of the immoderate and abusive to prove that the thing abused is to blame – the same strategy that in previous generations failed at eliminating the moderate consumption of alcohol among Christians.
Sin is still at the root of all abuse and addiction, and faith in Christ and reliance on the Holy Spirit is still the only solution. Creating an awareness of this fact is what will steer both adults and young adults into appropriate and moderate use of their digital resources.
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