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Category: tribes

These Are No Ordinary Times: Time Becomes Real

Bunuel: Chien Andalou

As we may think about the real time web, the image goes in and out of focus. Pieces of the dream materialize for a moment and then are withdrawn. The solid experience of Track and IM on Twitter start to reveal the contours of the possibility of discovery on the real time web– and then in the blink of an eye, they dissolve into nothingness. Twitter pulls the experience back into the darkness, and we set out as a band of gypsies attempting to recreate it from the resources we find in the commons.

“Real time” puts time itself into the frame. In a simple sense, real time means what’s happening right now. It’s the conscious moment that cleaves the past from the future. It’s the thread of our lives being pulled through the eye of a needle.

Time is nature’s way of keeping everything from happening at once.

We see the past through the future, as it comes rushing toward us, asking us to make a judgment about this present moment. David Byrne and Brian Eno have released some recordings called “Everything that happens will happen today.” I’d go further and say that everything that happens, happens right now. Your only opportunity to act is in the present moment. Your only opportunity to do the right thing is in the present moment. Your only opportunity to connect with another person is in the present moment. Your only opportunity to pick up the thread of the conversation is in the present moment.

As we stand at the crossroads between the past and the future, we must act, and through our actions express a judgement. Do we act in the present moment only for the present moment? Or do we think both of ourselves and our posterity as we make this gesture or that one? There’s a sense in which a person acting in the present moment for the sake of an unknown future is the essence of morality.

As we deepen the questions about the real time web, we uncover the startling fact that underneath all the layers of technology and specialized lingo, we find only ourselves. Human beings, mortals, gathering together to share our joys and sorrows, our dreams and aspirations, our humanity. As we pound out, hammer and tongs, the basic shape of our experience through the real time Network, we would do well to heed the words of that guy who said, “what if all this stuff really matters?”

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Digital Identity: Ceremonies of the Mask

African Masks

Part of the ceremony of digital identity is binding identity artifacts to the person. There’s a sense in which these artifacts become real extensions of a person. They are augmentations, but the binding is very real. Think about how it feels to lose your keys, your wallet, your favorite pen. The human factors around digital identity remain an undiscovered country.

While listening to Dick Hardt talk about his Firefox plugin Sxipper to Phil Windley on Technometria, I began to think about anonymizers. These services are used to obscure a person entry point into the Network. I can see a future point where our relationship with identity becomes more sophisticated, we could use Sxipper to do three things.

  • Jack into the Network anonymously
  • Manage our personas and roles as we interact with various digital agents on the Network
  • Keep track of common interactions and compile them into macros

Sxipper, or some similar tool, will be on your phone, on your USB fob, a key on your keychain– it becomes your entry point to the Network. There’s a sense in which this relationship is more sophisticated, but at the same time more primitive. We will be consciously donning masks to present ourselves in the social space of the Network. The Network was largely populated by publications and transaction scripts; it’s starting to be populated by people.

Imagine that world, and then imagine losing your keys. The feeling of absence, a part of you gone missing, unmasked. The vows taken in the binding ceremony have been broken.

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The Critic’s Role in Modern Attention Markets

Marcel Duchamp: Fountain by R. Mutt

One of the more interesting things a micro-community can do within a social network is come to terms and through their gestures establish a value for something. One of the best descriptions I’ve read of this process was by art critic Kenneth Baker, specifically in his review of Dale Chihuly’s exhibition at the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco. While Baker is discussing his reaction to the show and the role of his review in the larger swirl of opinions that make up the cultural value of the work, his words equally apply to the social and political objects in our midst.

Baker’s original review of the Chihuly show was intensely negative; he even took the museum to task for mounting a show that was more ‘craft’ than ‘art.’ Chihuly is a popular glass artist and Baker’s review incited a torrent of disagreement. I found Baker’s defense of his review to be some of his best writing. Here’s how Baker set the context:

In today’s culture, people need not merely critics to tell them what art is, but also artists, curators, art historians, art dealers, collectors – and the viewers’ own education and sensibility.

In the consensus as to the art status of a piece or a body of work, each such participant has something to contribute, and each type of contribution has to be valued differently.

The interesting bit here is that no perspective is authoritative, but each view has a unique value in the equation of cultural worth. Baker’s assessment is based on the network of connections to canonical work that forms our cultural mesh:

Hence, my practice of comparing one artist’s works with those made by others. Art is made of connections – connections available to any informed observer – not just of materials and good intentions.

The several readers who faulted me for comparing Chihuly‘s work with his more serious contemporaries’ uses of glass misunderstood my purpose: I was looking for redeeming linkages between his work and art – sculpture – of canonical stature, and could find none. No one who wrote to me in his defense mentioned any either.

Most of us would prefer to believe that “art” is a quality inherent in or infused in certain things, but the history of modern art, and of its enveloping social reality, has left us in a much more complex and ambiguous position. Those who refuse to acknowledge this are the very dupes that the culture industry banks on.

Baker defines the role of the critic in our modern attention markets:

I took a caustic tone because I believe, more or less as the poet John Ciardi put it, that we are what we do with our attention.

Every newspaper critic argues that readers ought to spend their attention in some ways and not others. A critic, no matter what his field, must be an expert in the uses of attention and their rewards – in terms of pleasure, expanded insight, challenges to habit and prejudice and much more.

Today art critics also find themselves having to push back against the tendency of many museums to market their programming as entertainment, which inevitably tends toward escapist uses of attention. “Chihuly at the de Young” is a prime example of this sorry cultural drift.

Ad Reinhardt

And of course, whenever the value of art becomes the topic of conversation we have to discuss the paintings of Ad Reinhardt, or Duchamp’s repurposing of a urinal as a sculpture entitled Fountain:

Marcel Duchamp’s notorious “Fountain” (1917), a mass-produced plumbing fixture turned on its back, signed with a pseudonym and presented as sculpture, proclaimed a fissure between the concept of art and its unambiguous embodiment in objects.

If Duchamp’s gesture had found no resonance in the wider situation of culture, his prank would have been forgotten long ago. But the peculiar cultural condition that he diagnosed persists: We still seldom see thought and thing brought together seamlessly outside the realm of mechanical engineering. Artists’ struggles with this problem continue to produce bizarre and fantastically various results, some provocative, illuminating and pleasing, most not.

Political philosopher Hannah Arendt defined artworks as “thought things,” that is, things that materialize thought, things to be thought about and, in rare cases, things to help us think.

As we consider the “thought things” that are collaboratively filtered through our social media networks, often we imagine a democratic process where each participant in the network has an equal vote. Presumably the top vote getter is the thing that deserves and wins our attention. Baker imagines an attention market where the votes of contributors are given different values. We accomplish this to some extent by using the Friend, Follow and Track tools to create a directed social graph that filters the firehose of information pouring off the Network with each tick of the clock. These tools are coarse filters when compared with the finely-tuned mesh of the art markets. Baker’s vision of value discovery in our attention markets reveals a possible future state of our social media toolset.

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XMPP Tribes: Have You Ever Been Experienced?

Jimi Hendrix and Buddy Miles

As we start to gather in tribes across the real-time web, dimensions of the value that is created begin to surface. How can the tribe help the individual where The Google can’t? I’m starting to read Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein’s Nudge, a book about behavioral economics. In the introduction of the book, they discuss the idea of Choice Architecture. And it was immediately apparent that this concept needs to be included in Vendor Relationship Management. There are many aspects to choice architecture, but I’d like to focus on a common false assumption:

…that almost all people, almost all of the the time, make choices that are in their best interest or at the very least are better than the choices that would be made by someone else.

Imagine yourself buying a digital camera, selecting a health plan or planning a diet. How much experience do you have in each of these areas? Do you have what it takes to make the optimal decision?

In many areas, ordinary consumers are novices, interacting in a world inhabited by experienced professionals trying to sell them things. More generally, how well people choose is an empirical question, one whose answer is likey to vary across domains. It seems reasonable to say that people make good choices in contexts in which they have experience, good information and prompt feedback–say, choices among ice cream flavors.

How can I augment my experience in any specific transaction context? My XMPP Tribe can help me right now, in real time, through my iPhone. So why is asking the tribe better than reading user reviews? Because the more you read online reviews, the less you know. If there are a large volume of reviews, you can be certain that almost every possible viewpoint will be represented. My real-time tribe can even help me properly filter anonymous reviewers.

The normal sales transaction context involves a high degree of information asymmetry. VRM attempts to turn the signaling context around. Rather than the vendor signaling the customer, the customer signals the vendor– but this does nothing with regard to the uneven distribution of experience within the transaction. VRM can’t just be about signaling and paying for what you like. It’s also about creating a consideration set and making a choice that leads to a transaction. And if domain experience is lacking, the real-time tribe makes up the difference and augments the customer’s knowledge– an instant injection of experience.

Have you ever been experienced? Well I have…

If you can just get your mind together
Uh-then come on across to me
We’ll hold hands and then we’ll watch the sunrise
From the bottom of the sea
But first, are you experienced? 
Uh-have you ever been experienced-uh? 
Well, I have
(well) I know, I know, youll probably scream and cry
That your little world won’t let you go
But who in your measly little world, (-uh)
Are you tryin’ to prove to that you’re
Made out of gold and-uh, can’t be sold
So-uh, are you experienced? 
Have you ever been experienced? (-uh)
Well, I have
Uh, let me prove it to you, yeah
Trumpets and violins I can-uh, hear in the distance
I think they’re callin our name
Maybe now you can’t hear them,
But you will, ha-ha, if you just
Take hold of my hand
Ohhh, but are you experienced? 
Have you ever been experienced? 
Not necessarily stoned, but beautiful

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