This post is the final installment of “You Are Not a Gadget Thursdays”.  Lanier wraps up his book talking about his dream of where things could go with virtual reality.  He dreams of a virtual reality experience that allows us to basically be shapeshifters in our experiences.  He admits that this is quite far-fetched, but still dreams of this kind of experience.

Given that this virtual reality is his dream, it makes sense that he would warn against lock-ins as strongly as he does.  Many of our present technological structures would not provide the opportunities to develop something like this, something that Lanier points to.  It would basically require a way to bring our imagination to be “actualized” in our experience (although not in reality).  Such a possibility is obvious far off in the future (if even possible), but given that Lanier was there when virtual reality was started, he’s not willing to give up hope, even as he sees technology moving in ways that would not accommodate his dream.

I found this final chapter helped make sense of the rest of the book.  Given that Lanier has this dream of virtual reality that requires a strong conception of human personhood (and imagination), he revolts against the mechanization of technology, longing for a much more user-motivated idea of technology.  He wants technology to augment our imaginations and bring them to life in ways that only our dreams can begin to actualize.

For those who tend to disagree with Lanier’s critiques, I think they should re-evaluate what he is saying in light of his ultimate project.  This dream of an imagination-based virtual reality experience that surpasses even what we can dream is a goal grander than “the Cloud” or “Singularity”, and one that we should strive to work toward long before surrendering to either of those technological “ideals”.

In an attempt to finish this book and move onto another book, I’m going to blog both chapters of Part Four in a single post.

“I Am A Contrarian Loop”

Computationalism is the belief that “the world can be understood as a computational process, with people as subprocesses.”  While this view may seem to be at odds with his assertion that humans are mysterious, Lanier makes a distinction between being a computationalist with regards to the tools that are used and from a scientific perspective.  In the former, there has to be something beyond the tool to use the tool to its fullest, which is the mysterious human being that cannot be reduced to the tools, but give meaning to the tools.  In the latter, mysterious ideas do not have a place, and there is an element of the brain being a kind of computer for Lanier.

Lanier sees there being four kinds of computationalism, while only finding one to be plausible.The implausible views on computationalism focus on treating humans as a kind of software, rather than something that uses the software.  The plausible view for Lanier stems from the fact that the human brain has been structured by the entirety of our encounters with physical reality.  The plethora of encounters have created patterns that give the bits meaning, such that they become a continuation of reality.

It is unclear how this differs from one of the views he finds implausible.  He argues against the idea that an incredibly large computation will take on person-like qualities, yet says that with enough encounters with the physical reality, the quantity of bits will becomes a nonabstract continuation of reality, telling of story of how this is person-like.  My inclination is to say that personhood can never be reduced to any kind of process or subprocess or collection of processes.  There may be a collection of processes that are essential to personhood, but they are not equivalent with personhood.

“One Story of How Semantics Might Have Evolved”

While this chapter was significantly longer than the previous one, it was significantly less interesting.  Lanier gives an explanation about the development of language that he admits is primarily speculation, but it is a clear attempt to fit the development of language into his idea of computationalism in the previous chapter.

Given my love for the philosophy of Ludwig Wittgenstein, it is not surprising I would find it unpersuasive. It seems that Lanier is more focused on the words and the systems of words that he thinks that a proper analysis of all of the conversations would be able to produce a way to decipher the meaning of all language.  However, looking at Wittgenstein’s language games in the different forms of life, we see that there is a need for participation in the forms of life to begin to understand the meaning of the words and the rules of the language game.  Neither of these can be expressed entirely outside of the language game.  Participation in the form of life cannot be reduced to analysis of the words used in the language game, but requires an active component that analysis cannot produce.  Given that computers lack the ability for this active component (as they are primarily about structure and analysis),  it makes sense that computers would not be able to become full participants in our forms of life and can only play a role in the development of language to the extent that we allow them.  Again, I believe his computationalism, while it may get closer to figuring out the connection between computers and humans, ultimately will fall short.

Lanier uses this chapter to voice his concern about the takeover the web by a single entity (or small group of entities).  Specifically, his concern is with the role that Wikipedia has come to play in our web endeavors.  He notes that the emergence of Wikipedia led to the stoppage of most amateur sites that supplied similar knowledge of the specialized thing.  While it makes sense that Wikipedia should be one of the first hits on a search engine, Lanier noted that on many searches, the first hits that followed the Wikipedia site were often the sites linked on the Wikipedia site.  While Wikipedia is a good in many ways, Lanier is concerned that Wikipedia has become the focus of information at the cost of viable alternatives, especially the alternative of individuals posting information of their own on their own sites.

This concern ultimately relates back to Lanier’s concern of lock-ins discussed previously.  He’s afraid that this centralization of information will prove to stifle innovation and the development of ideas that might go against the trend set by Wikipedia.

My commentary on this chapter will be brief because much of Lanier’s concern is quite speculative.  I’m often torn on my thoughts about Wikipedia.  I find it to be a good starting point for finding information, but find myself stopping there on many things, as though it were the final word.  When so much information is in one place, it can be easy to get lazy and not search deeper.  I am bothered by my tendency to put complete trust in Wikipedia.  However, I shouldn’t blame Wikipedia for my tendency to be lazy in my internet searches.  Eliminating Wikipedia may force me to stop being lazy, but it could very well mean that I get less information and become content with that, even though more work is necessary for that lesser amount of information.

Like anything in the world, we get out what we put in.  Wikipedia has given us a tool to get more for less work, but if anything, it should encourage us to move on and continue our searches and development rather than stopping there.  Wikipedia should be the opening line to a beautiful symphony of learning and exploring.  Just as we would find the opening line to a symphony dissatisfying without the rest of the symphony, so should we find Wikipedia to be lacking by itself.

While I recognize that my suggestion does take more time and effort and may not be reasonable to expect in all searches (I mean, there’s only so much information you can find on some things), let me encourage you to skip to page 3 or 4 on your search engine and try to find one non-Wikipedia-linked link to get more information next time you do a search.  You may find more information, you may not find any information, but there’s also the possibility that you’ll find a link that spurs you into an exciting thought process that is worthwhile.

Music is for connection.  At least for Jaron Lanier, the music he makes is about connecting with other people.

After he starts this short chapter discussing the inability for digital media to reproduce great works of art (largely because there are so many unique elements to works of art that cannot be handled by a digital replication), Lanier turns his frustration toward music licensing.  When he produces music, he can copyright it such that he gets reimbursed for its use or at least attribution.  However, he would like to set it up so that if you want to use his music, you have to contact him.  If he likes your idea of how to use it, you can use it immediately.  If he doesn’t, you have to wait 6 months, or when you make it, you have to have some way of noting that he doesn’t approve of how you’re using his music.

Using this method, he can connect with those who are interested in his music while still protecting the music, from his perspective.  For him, the music is more than something that can be reproduced or mashed, but something that has a context, and if you remove it from the context, then it loses the intended meaning.

While we could possibly argue with Lanier’s aesthetics and his theory of expression, I would be discussing something that is slightly outside my present philosophical focus.  Instead, I want to return to my favorite drum in these Lanier posts, that is, that Jaron Lanier needs to find NoiseTrade in a bad way.  It is based on the idea that music is based on connection, as the artist gets an e-mail address and zip code for each person who downloads the music, and the artist can contact those who get the music and plan tours accordingly.  (If you want to know more about my thoughts on NoiseTrade, check out these posts.)

Jaron Lanier, if you’re reading this, PLEASE check out NoiseTrade.  I think it might shorten the second edition of your book and allow you to address some other things instead.

Lanier takes note of a trend in popular music trends and is concerned.

Throughout the last century, each decade has been marked by some new approach to music.  However, in the last decade, what new trends have come about in music?  What about today’s music (in most examples) is distinctive from the music of 10-15 years ago?

Instead of doing something new and truly innovative, the last 10 years have been marked more by a retro feel to the music produced.  While there is nothing wrong with the music produced in this time in and of itself, Lanier is concerned that this move is reflective to the larger culture and the shift toward polishing and refinement rather than creative innovation.

Lanier notes that the most significant contributions of the open-culture technological movement are found in Linux and Wikipedia.  These are polished improvements on UNIX and encyclopedias.  While both of these improvements are noteworthy and undoubtedly better than the originals, Lanier laments that the open-culture movement has yet to produce something innovative and creative.  The dream was not that we would improve on what exists, but that the open-culture would produce new things.  Instead, the new things produced in the last 25 years have been by individuals or closed corporations.

I can’t help but wonder if the reason for this stems from the fact that open-culture is that of large-scale collaboration.  When you collaborate with a large group of people, the view of the majority tends to win.  This approach is useful in many situations in life.  However, when trying to come up with something new and innovative, it does not seem as successful.  Something innovative is often against the popular trends, in part, because it is rejecting, to use Lanier’s language, “lock-ins” in order to make the process better.  However, those lock-ins are what is known by the majority and they are often unwilling to abandon those for something new.

Let me be clear.  I am not disparaging the open-culture movement.  When looking to improve something already existing, having groups of people collaborating together can produce better results than an individual would be able to.  However, to produce creative innovation, one often has to take risks, and with any risk, there is the possibility of failure.  Groups do a good job of reducing the possibility of failure, but in the process, often reduce the possibility that something truly innovative may emerge.

Innovation requires risks.  Whether that innovation is with regard to technology or music or literature or anything, when you try something truly new, there is a chance that it could fall flat on its face.  In fact, I’d venture that more often than not, the new things often fail.  An individual, or a small group fully committed to an idea, can make those risks and are more willing to take risks.  A group without that high level of commitment is less likely to be willing to take that risk, which is understandable, but is able to improve on the status quo.

If want to change the status quo, we have to be willing to take risks.  We have to be willing to go against the lock-ins of society.  We have to try new things.  As individuals committed to those risks, we can band together.  However, it doesn’t seem like a group is, or even should be expected to be willing to leave the status quo.

As is the norm in these posts, this fact is one reason I appreciate the work being done with NoiseTrade.  (I promise you that I am not on their payroll, nor do I have any kind of personal stake in the site.)  They give artists avenues to put their new stuff out there for an audience that they would not have otherwise.  They do it at no financial cost to the artist or the audience.  Instead, they allow artists to put their music out there for free, risking that there will be fans out there who will download it and find it enjoyable enough to come to concerts.  Fans take the risk of their time to download the artist’s work.  These may seem like small risks, but those risks allow the possibility of something new emerging from their work.  The masses may not embrace a new and innovative artist, but they may find a fan base to encourage them to keep doing new music, pushing the envelope and eventually leading to another shift in music.

I think the innovative thinkers in teaching are also working by themselves or in small groups of people, and are often fighting against the larger trends in their profession.  However, places like the ATL at Baylor (as a matter of full disclosure, I am on their payroll) give these individuals a safe place to explore those ideas and encouragement to improve those thoughts and to continue persevering.  It also presents opportunities to introduce these new ideas to an audience larger than any of those individuals would be able to have by themselves.

I have no idea how this model would be helpful in other areas and with other products, but please throw out any ideas that you have to help give these opportunities to innovative thinkers!

Lanier sets forth three ideas in this chapter that he sees as options that can save us from the Singularity and the ones who control the cloud.  The three ideas are Telegigging, Songles, and Formal Financial Expression.  I’m going to focus on the first two as I found those most interesting.

Lanier defines telegigging as allowing musicians to perform gigs at remote locations through holographic projection or something similar.  The costs associated with traveling would basically be eliminated, provided that they have the ability to record themselves holographically and the place they are “performing” can project holograms.  I think this technology is quite a few years away from being affordable enough to seriously discuss, but I think the NoiseTrade idea resonates with telegigging quite well.

The most interesting of the three ideas to me were the songles.  Songles are a complete reversal of how we approach music today.  Songles are objects that contain a song and when the songle is in the proximity of a device that can play songles, the device can play the song associated with that songle.  Lanier thinks that this route could allow artists to produce a limited number of songs and give value to fans who buy the songles and invest in a up and coming band and their songles.

While Lanier is not necessarily advocating the elimination of other forms of music (for if he was advocating that, I would have serious concerns with the limitations of the spread of music), he does think that songles would make the music business more interactive and have the fans more engaged with the artists, as the songles could almost serve as stock in the artists.

My concern with songles is that they seem to be trinkets that would be novelties instead of serious investments.  Additionally, we would have to adjust our entertainment devices in order to be able to read the songles.  Like telegigging, songles may have some potential, but it seems like they are still down the pike a few years.

Given that both of these ideas seem quite a few years away and that Lanier has serious concerns about the effect of lock-ins (discussed in previous chapters), I can’t help but wonder if these ideas are going to be seen as “could-have-beens” rather than realities.  If we become locked in to using our iPods and buying devices that we can download songs onto and collect them there, the songle may be a novelty, but unlikely to dislodge us from our already ingrained approach to how we enjoy our music and even our movies.

In this chapter, Lanier assures his readers that there is a way out from the concerns of being controlled by those who control the cloud.  The present trends point in the direction of the cloud being free or paying for access to the cloud, giving control to those who control the cloud.  Lanier prefers something like Ted Nelson suggests.  Instead of paying for access to the cloud, there would be single copies of all content and you pay for access to the content.  All of the content on the web would have a small cost, but just as you pay to access the pictures of your friends, your friends would pay for access to your pictures as well.  Theoretically, after you figure what you pay and what you are paid, you would pay roughly the same amount you pay for internet access now.

This move would put the control of content back into the hands of individuals rather than in the hand of those who control the medium.  It also allows people to be reimbursed for their work on the web.  It would require great organization that would likely involve the government, but Lanier thinks that government involvement to allow users to control their content is a better poison to swallow than allowing a select few to control the cloud and to reap the financial benefits of that control.

On a personal note, I had to stop and think about how Lanier’s proposed change would influence the way that I view the internet.  If I knew I was paying an amount every time I clicked on a link, I think I would be more careful and limit myself in my internet habits.  In the beginning at least, I would not click on links willy-nilly, but would find myself being much more intentional in what I clicked.  It would also motivate me to try to post more often and to post things that people are interested in as an attempt to earn some money for my work. As time progressed, I might become more at east about paying for content, much like I have with spending money on songs through iTunes or Amazon’s mp3 store.  It would be a significant adjustment, but my gut agrees with Lanier about the positives over the cloud control method.

I wonder if this move would make it more difficult for people starting up on the internet.  If someone is an unknown commodity, people might be less likely to spend money on their work, similar to what we see in the music industry today.  Given my openly professed love for NoiseTrade, I tried to think what a similar site would be under this pay model, but was unsuccessful.  If anyone has any ideas on this dilemma, please post them in the comments.

Jaron Lanier wrote an article for the New York Times about the roles technology can play in the classroom, such that technology itself is neither good, nor bad.

However, there is a negative way that technology is used in the classroom and a positive one.  To no one’s surprise (who has been following this blog), from Lanier’s perspective, the negative use pushes us toward the loss of personhood of both teachers and students.  We get caught up in the algorithms that create the standardized tests that tell us if a student (and by extension, a teacher) is succeeding or failing.  We start to teach to the tests.  We see computers as the future of education, wanting to put a computer in the hands of each student to guarantee their success.  We focus on educating about the information that the technology gives us rather than what we can do with that information.

But what if education is more than information transmission?  What if there are important parts of education that cannot be stimulated by a computer or acting like a computer?  What if students see themselves as conduits of information rather than thinkers and problem solvers?  Lanier is concerned that students are being trained to transfer information from the lecture/book to the test, and I’m not sure I really disagree.  He is afraid that we are losing the self-invention of the human mind.  We are treating students like computers, not persons.  (I’m actually presenting a paper at a conference in a couple weeks that is arguing something similar.  The paper is titled “Teaching to Persons, Not Computers”.  I’ll probably post it here after the conference in some form.)

Given all these possible negatives of using technology and computers, what could the possible positives be?  Lanier talks about how his father was a teacher that used computers with his students to build spaceships.  The idea is that this technology gives us access to things that we would have never been able to do before.  We can compute things at a ridiculous speed.  We can perform tests without leaving the classroom.  We can make simple modifications to designs and retest them again quickly with no need for materials.  We can connect to information in seconds that would have taken weeks or months to get our hands on.  We can communicate with people to get and give immediate feedback on ideas in places and at times this would normally not happen.  The difference between this model and the previous one is that we’re using the technology, not being used by it.  The technology gives us access to all these additional tools, but we cannot lose sight of the fact that these are tools.

My dad is a carpenter, and a good one at that.  You could give him a small set of tools and he could accomplish something significant.  My niece is not a carpenter.  You could give her every tool in the world, and she still would not accomplish what my dad can do with his small set of tools.  The difference is that my dad knows how to use the tools to their fullest potential.  My niece would look at the tools and have no idea what to do with them.  She’d find something to do with them, but it would probably be a severe misuse of the tools.

The same goes with students and technology.  Some teachers don’t know what to do with the tools.  They assume that if you give students the tools, they can figure out how to use them without any help.  The students do figure out how to use them, but often it is a misuse of the tools.  In that situation, both students and teachers recognize that technology gives them access to all kinds of information, so they focus on the information rather than what the information can do.  They use the tools to modify other tools rather than using the tools to make something.

Maybe Lanier’s spaceship example is even more applicable.  Technology should be used to produce something new.  But not a new tool, but rather, something new using the tools that we’re given.  Yes, we do need to have an excellent understanding of the tools in order to do that, but we must understand how to use the tools rather than just information about the tools.  With the tools, we can create something wonderful.  Whether that is a spaceship or a new insight into life that makes one a better human person, those things are what the goal of education should be about.

When algorithms rule the world, risks will be non-existent.

This chapter was a short one from Lanier, so I’ll keep my post short as well.  The basic idea in this chapter is that there is a reductionistic mindset that is becoming prevalent, such that all decisions can be made by inserting the information into an algorithm, which will tell you what to do.  Looking at situations like the financial crash of 2008 only bolsters Lanier’s thoughts, given that many hedge fund managers weren’t quite sure (and probably still aren’t quite sure) what exactly happened.  So many things are run by algorithms that the human element is lost in the process and we don’t find out that our algorithms are wrong until it is too late.  Instead of considering humans as unique individuals, we’re all a part of a big statistical n, such that the algorithm works most of the time, but if we’re one of the unlucky people it doesn’t work for, that’s just too bad.

I think Lanier is on to something with his discussion of algorithms.  If we are dependent on them, then unless we understand exactly how the algorithm works, we have removed our usefulness as humans.  I know some professors are set on having a Bell curve of their grades.  In a sense, they are using an algorithm to define how the grades of their class should turn out.  The students are basically ranked by their score and the letter grade is assigned based on where you rank.  Sometimes that means you 67% will be an A.  Other times it means your 80% will be an F.  In both situations, professors are saying that the class must fit into an algorithm that produces specific results.

I’m not saying algorithms are unhelpful.  They are good guides more often than not.  However, one has to understand why the algorithm is used and how it works in order for it to be useful.  If we become enslaved to the algorithm, we’re surrendering ourselves to the algorithm rather than using the algorithm as the tool it is intended to be.

Sadly, this chapter wasn’t overly interesting, but Lanier did write an interesting article last week, which I will blog about today as well.

You can’t always get what you want…

In this short chapter, Lanier bemoans the present state of the music industry, specifically the music distribution industry.  His concern is that with the decline of traditional music distribution services, musicians will be hard-pressed to make it in the world as a musician unless they are young, without kids, and willing to tour all the time.

Given that Lanier is a musician, it would have been interesting to hear him tie his own experiences into the chapter.

The significant concern I have with Lanier’s chapter is his apparently misplaced attack on music recordings.  He heavily critiques MIDI earlier in the book, claiming that it has had a destructive impact on music.  What better way to combat the effects of MIDI but by making the live performance the centerpiece of the musician’s experience and livelihood?

Granted, it does take a lot of work to travel and tour.  However, many musicians would argue that no recording can fully capture a live performance.  I imagine that the original purpose of a recording was to give a taste of a live performance that was not experienced or to trigger the memory of the live performance that was experienced.  I believe that music, especially non-MIDI music like Lanier holds up as a beacon of the Good, was not intended for recording but for the live experience.

This criticism by Lanier appears to be a case of wanting his cake and eating it too.  He wants to critique the music that has become all about the recording because it has locked artists into the use of technologies like MIDI and prevented them from the fullest expression of their music.  However, he also wants artists to be able to make money primarily from recordings rather than live performances.  I believe that if Lanier wants artists to be able to make a living off of recordings, then he has to accept that the recording has then become the focal point of music rather than the performance.  But if he believes that the performance should be the focal point (as it appears he does), then he has to make the performance, not the recording, the focal part of what it means to be an artist.  If the recording is not the focal point, then it should not be expected to be the primary source of income.

I will make now yet another plug for NoiseTrade.  NoiseTrade puts the focus of the artist on the performance by offering the recordings for free.  This mode appeals to me because I am the type of person who goes to concerts to get something more than the recording.  When artists give concerts by basically performing the songs exactly as they are on the album while not talking about their songs, I am sorely disappointed.  When I’m at a concert, I think the artist should give me something that I can’t get when listening in the comfort of my own home.  (I can get sore ears and surround myself in a bunch of sweaty, screaming bodies in my own home if I want, if you were about to claim that it a bonus.)  NoiseTrade encourages artists to make their concerts an experience worth going to, which, I hope, puts the focus on the live performance of music rather than recordings.