Posts Tagged ‘culture’

In Tim Wu’s new review of Jonathan Zittrain’s The Future of the Internet and How to Stop It, the Columbia Law professor spends considerable time explaining how the economics of media have historically led to a consolidation that many would see as anathema to the diverse marketplace of ideas that we want. His discussion is well worth a read, but what I thought was most important from the piece was his mention of the many threats to the generative Internet:

“But I must part company with Zittrain over his main and more somber argument: that security crises will form the driving narrative of the Internet’s future. I do not doubt that there will be never-ending security problems and reactions. But the question is not whether cybersecurity will matter, but whether it will matter most. Zittrain’s security saga does not look to me like a full account of the future. He is leaving out many of the external forces that will change the Internet. One is the power of government, which, especially overseas, has begun reshaping the network to fit its obsessions. Another is the combined forces of language and culture, which are driving a once-global Internet into something more like a series of national ones: a Japanese Internet, a Spanish Internet, and so on.

But most important, the real story may lie in the power of industry structure and the long trend toward centralized control in the media industries. Over the last decade, the Internet has become interwoven with media and communications industries collectively worth trillions, with economics all of their own. Unlike Zittrain, I think that industry dynamics, more than a demand for safe appliances, will determine the future of this strange and extraordinary medium.”

A Typology of Threats to the ‘Net

So which threat is the most disconcerting? He points to four:

1. Zittrain‘s security-driven adoption of sterile devices,
2. Wu‘s economic-driven centralization,
3. Zuckerman‘s culture- and language-driven splintered Internet, or
4. Barlow‘s government intervention

Personally, I’m inclined to think a splintered net is the most troublesome because it destroys the forum for international conversation and deliberation we wanted the Internet to become. But what macro trend concerns you?

It’s official: China is now the largest Internet market with 253 million users. The number is only 19% of the Chinese population, well behind the 70% of Americans who are Internet users. Recent years have seen a noted increase in Internet penetration, especially among younger citizens. The rapid economic development of China has led to a significant segment of the population which has both the time and the money to be online.

There are many obstacles to the realization of international connectivity; among them:

• the difficulties of deploying digital infrastructure,
• the high cost of connections,
• language barriers, and
• cultural differences.

The first two barriers are certainly complex tasks which rely on technical, political and economic variables, but my gut feeling is that they are not as important as the other, less tangible hurdles. Undoubtedly someone with a more sophisticated understanding of network deployment could tell me why the Internet’s global penetration is not a guarantee, but on this topic I am optimistic. There is a hearty demand for the information-bearing networks and, in tow, a swarm of would-be ISPs, web services and advertisers seeking to support the demand. With development, we will see the digital divide crumble.

The cultural divide is what worries me.

The instantaneous, global spread of ideas is unprecedented in human history. Sure, the Silk Road is a fascinating example of the globalization of products and diseases; even a few ideas made the journey. Sure, by some measures the world was just as globalized prior to WWI. But the scale and extent of the current global information society dwarfs historical comparisons. For the first time in history, ordinary citizens have the capabilities to connect across the globe to people of wildly different backgrounds, histories and interests. It was supposed to be a sovereign realm unto itself where “governments of the industrial world… have no sovereignty.” Nationalism was supposed to disappear, to dwell in history with the horrific wars and conflicts it supported.

The reality, is quite different. The Economist notes that, “the very people whom the Internet might have liberated from the shackles of state-sponsored ideologies—are using the wonders of electronics to stoke hatred between countries, races or religions.” How can these painful distortions of humanity be limited in the digital realm? The answer, of course, isn’t clear, but my intuition is that it will not depend on hardware or software. A future free from conflict – digital and physical – will be paved by breaking down the cultural differences and coming to understand the reasons for differences of opinion.

One area technology may help is in breaking down the language barriers which make meaningful conversation difficult. Tools like Google Translate are a good start, but they are far from perfect and understanding the nuance behind political differences requires much more than what is available now. Instead, we must rely on human translation which introduces a level of bias (no matter how innocent the translator) and, oftentimes, shifts discussion to another location, as is the case with Global Voices.

Take the example that the New Yorker did in a recent piece on China’s rising cybernationalists. By all accounts, Tang Jie is on his way to becoming an accomplished academic who has a firm understanding of the West and the current international diplomatic scene. Tang is also the creator of an incredibly popular video which capitalized upon and created a nationalistic uproar earlier this year following the Tibetan protests in March and Olympic torch debacle in Paris. The video, embedded below, is full of crescendos of dramatic music, potent imagery and conspiratorial suggestions of a new Cold War run by a “cabal” against China.

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=MSTYhYkASsA]

But below this sensational 6 minutes, as Evan Osnos’s excellent article explains, is a sophisticated, thoughtful thinker who approaches political disputes openly.

When people began rioting in Lhasa in March, Tang followed the news closely. As usual, he was receiving his information from American and European news sites, in addition to China’s official media. Like others his age, he has no hesitation about tunnelling under the government firewall, a vast infrastructure of digital filters and human censors which blocks politically objectionable content from reaching computers in China. He’s baffled that foreigners might imagine that people of his generation are somehow unwise to the distortions of censorship. “Because we are in such a system, we are always asking ourselves whether we are brainwashed,” he said. “We are always eager to get other information from different channels.” Then he added, “But when you are in a so-called free system you never think about whether you are brainwashed.”

However, although Tang and his friends point out valuable discrepancies in how America runs foreign or trade policy, the truth of the matter doesn’t get translated into his video. What has happened is a cultural homoginzation of tools, but underneath remains a cultural deviation of values. Both Students for a Free Tibet and Tang Jie communicate with supporters via online videos, but the underlying differences are masked by the same sensationalism that poisons CNN and Tang’s video.

A screenshot from Tang's video

In a rapid-fire media environment, the sort of enlightened exposure between thoughtful objectors needs to be cultivated – on both sides of the Pacific. Grace Wang is one of those enlightened thinkers, but the crazed online mob got in the way:

At Duke University, Grace Wang, a Chinese freshman, tried to mediate between pro-Tibet and pro-China protesters on campus. But online she was branded a “race traitor.” People ferreted out her mother’s address, in the seaside city of Qingdao, and vandalized their home. Her mother, an accountant, remains in hiding. Of her mother, Grace Wang said, “I really don’t know where she is, and I think it’s better for me not to know.”

Although I’m beginning to sound like a Luddite, I am anything but. For a long time I was outspoken in my belief that China was acting horribly in Tibet. The Internet, and listening openly to others, has given me a deeper, more levelled understanding. I think attentively designed conversations will arise in the amazing information landscape of the Internet. We just need to consciously recognize the technical and cultural inputs to do so. And we need to recognize that they may not be universally embraced. For example, although the American tradition is steeped in recognizing freedom of expression as a foundational element of political discourse, a majority of polled Chinese approve of government control of information. So, I’m reminded of Rebecca MacKinnon’s headline during the recent Tibetan protests: Is discussion possible? It is a question of acute importance whose answer relies on both the technical and cultural.

In the past, I’ve written about censorship on the Internet, especially the Chinese example. It is a touchy subject for many – bringing up both ardent nationalism and unabashed support for free expression. Like many topics of debate which tend to have emotional currents, it is difficult at times to address the substantive issues. That’s why this nuanced point of view on Chinese net censorship is so refreshing. Though I may disagree with the author on some of the points, it provides a good view. Some choice quotes:

“Often, people speak of “censorship” without acknowledging that there is a background of this kind of contest going on. Fundamentally, the assumption behind the intuition that “censorship” is bad is that other people ought to see things just the way we see them. And that may be a laudable goal or a bad goal. But it’s not self-evident. To say that someone else is censoring is to say that they are not seeing things the way we want to see them, and whether the views of those others are “authentic” (in the sense of being liberal or democratic) may be relevant or not to the determination, but again it’s not self-evident.”

and

“You view the Chinese search results as “censored,” but actually, every time I do a search on Tiananmen on Google I feel I’m watching the result of a Google bomb. To me, the iconic image of Tiananmen is the one where Chairman Mao stood up and declared the founding of the People’s Republic. That moment is the dividing line between pre-modern China and modern China, and for many Chinese it is an image that is much more potent than the images of the protests.”

These are genuine, reflective opinions on an issue which is not as binary as it is often made out to be.