Work and play
I mentioned yesterday that I'm at a conference with dual goals: making progress on a particular project and sharing general lessons about how to build human networks. Yesterday I spent six hours on the first goal, which was aimed at one small piece of innovation (an IRC client for FLOSS Manuals).
The scene felt like a Hollywood scriptwriter's fantasy of life in Amsterdam.
Eight of us went to a studio on the west side of the city, rented by
an artist who produces designs for FLOSS Manuals. It had the requisite
high ceilings, blank walls, obscure art journals and exhibition
proceedings. (The movie-set ambiance was disrupted a bit by the
presence of two books I had edited,
Today we took a step back to discuss our goals and FLOSS Manuals'
unique
book sprint
way of creating documentation. We're holding one in Boston on March
21-22, under the auspices of the Free Software Foundation, and we can
use volunteers who would like to teach GUI users how to be effective
with the Bash command line.
Across the liberal disciplines, researchers are fascinated with how
much of biology, nature, and society can be described in terms of
networks. Networks are hard to control, impossible to predict, and
fantastically productive. But as Winter Camp organizer Geert Lovink
pointed out in a speech I read yesterday, The Principle of
Notworking (sic), networks are more likely to slow down initiatives
than to speed them up. Central authorities are much more
efficient. They just don't achieve as good results.
One of Lovink's revelations was his interpretation of why the dot-com
boom of the 1990s crashed. What he called Commerce, Inc. was trying to
coerce the Internet into a centralized distribution model. We all now
understand the fundamental dynamic of the Internet as a network. This
means it consists of autonomous people who come and go as they please
and generate new forms of interaction as they go along.
I'd like to take this idea a step further and predict that the
social-networking follow-up to Commerce, Inc. is likely to come to a
bad end too. When there is no central control point, it's hard to
extract a profit from activity. If there is no central locus for
production, there's no ethical justification for extracting a profit.
Understanding network theory a bit better helped me answer the
question I had when I arrived: why are there so many of them? It
seemed like many of the groups of artistic and political activists at
Winter Camp announce overlapping goals, and I wondered whether any
networks should merge or outsource some of their goals to more
specialized organizations. But one can't question why people come
together, and why they choose one network over another.
Even though smaller networks must continually educate themselves and
repeat all the mistakes that are familiar to other network organizers,
they end up stronger and able to build new networks. What we are doing
at Winter Camp is the same process I'm going through in so many other
organizations: lifting the perspectives of the participants to see
beyond their own goals to the goals of their networks, and beyond the
goals of their networks to the ambitious social goals we tend to share
here.
One of the key aspects of networks we grapple with in the world of
activists is how easily nodes (people) slip away. Just a few days ago
I put up an
analysis of citizen participation
labeling this lack of commitment as a problem. But Lovink treats it as
a strength (hence the pun "Notworking"). Each network has to
constantly justify its existence to its members. If it stagnates or
develops oppressive forms of interaction, members will be quick to
find a more congenial alternative.
The conference seems to be working, rather than notworking. Members
of different networks mingle at seven in the morning when the
breakfast room opens and at ten at night when the evening
entertainment ends. Between sessions they gather outside for
cigarettes and more conversation. (A lot more people, Americans as
well as Europeans, are smoking here than at other conferences I
attend. I figure it's because they're artists; they don't think
logically.)
One Laptop Per Child has been getting some bad press, not all of it
from the usual authorities who fear its potential to raise a global
generation of free-thinking, capable children. The organization has
definitely run into problems with costs, income, and therefore
funding, as well as carefully considered criticism from a lot of
people in technical communities. But I think a lot of the controversy
comes from the original vision splitting up and becoming more diffuse.
Instead of a simple, clear story--a single, unified system--the
project has split the software component from the hardware
component. This seems eminently sensible. The software component
(Sugar) has broadened its base and been ported to many platforms,
while the hardware component, under pressure from client governments,
has been adapted to run Windows as well as Sugar.
Furthermore, as highlighted in a
Wired Magazine article,
the technical innovations of OLPC has forced mainstream computer
vendors to reconsider their bloatware and to scale general-purpose
computers down to mimic the mobile devices that are fantastically
popular around the world. (Many of them achieve these goals by running
Linux.) OLPC seems to be taking brickbats for experiencing this
competition instead of receiving credit for changing the playing
field.
I don't know whether the universal communication device of the late
twenty-first century will look like OLPC's XO (or even be called
XO). But the story isn't about the hardware in any case. The really
interesting things will come after devices of some sort get into
the hands of communities and the grassroots communication and
experimentation are well underway.
Swimming in networks
The impact of OLPC and Sugar

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