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The Future Is Cloudy

By - August 29, 2012

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about data recently. It’s not just reading books like The Information or Mirror Worlds (or Super Sad True Love Story, a science fiction novel that is both compelling and scary), it’s my day to day work, both at FM (where we deal with literally 25 billion ad calls and associated data a month), and in reporting the book (I’ve been to MIT, Yale, Amazon, Microsoft, Facebook, Google, and many other places, and the one big theme everyone is talking about is data…).

We are, as a society and as individuals, in the process of becoming data, of describing and detailing and burnishing our dataselves. And yet, we haven’t really joined the conversation about what this all means, in the main because it’s so damn abstract. We talk about privacy and fear of big brother, or big corporations. We talk about Facebook and whether we’re sharing too much. But we aren’t really talking – in any scaled, framed way – about what this means to being humans connected in a shared society, to be in relationships, to be citizens and consumers and lovers and haters….

There are so many wonderful micro conversations going on about this topic, spread out all over the place. I’m hoping that when my book appears, it might be a small step in joining some of these conversations into a larger framework. That’s the dream anyway.

Meanwhile, this report caught my eye (hat tip to the ever interesting newsletter guru Dave Pell and his NextDraft): Can’t Define “The Cloud”? Who Cares? It quotes a study that found:

….most people have no idea what the cloud is, have pretended to know what it means on first dates, and yet effectively all respondents are active cloud computing users.

It continues:

And that’s the way this stuff should work.

I get the point, but in a sense, I utterly disagree. If we as as society do not understand “the cloud,” in all its aspects – what data it holds, how it works, what the bargains are we make as we engage with it, we’ll all be the poorer for it, I believe. (For one aspect of this see my post on the Cloud Commit Conundrum). More on this as the Fall approaches, and I settle into a regular habit of writing out loud for the book.

 

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Here We Go Again: The Gray Market in Twitter and Facebook

By - August 07, 2012

So, casually reading through this Fast Company story about sexy female Twitter bots, I come across this astounding, unsubstantiated claim:

My goal was to draw a straight line from a Twitter bot to the real, live person whose face the bot had stolen. In the daily bot wars–the one Twitter fights every day, causing constant fluctuations in follower counts even as brands’ followers remain up to 48% bot–these women are the most visible and yet least acknowledged victims…

There it was, tossed in casually, almost as if it was a simple cost of doing business – nearly half of the followers of major brands could well be “bots.”

The article focuses on finding a pretty woman whose image had been hijacked, sure, but what I found most interesting (but sadly unsurprising) was how it pointed to a site that promises to a thousand  followers to anyone who pays…wait for it…about $17. Yes, the site is real. And no, you shouldn’t be surprised, in the least, that such services exist.

It has always been so.

Back when I was reporting for The Search, I explored the gray market that had sprung up around Google (and still flourishes, despite Google’s disputed attempts to beat it back). Fact is, wherever there is money to be made, and ignorance or desperation exists in some measure, shysters will flourish. And a further fact is this: Marketers, faced with CMO-level directives to “increase my follower/friend counts,” will turn to the gray market. Just as they did back in the early 2000s, when the directive was “make me rank higher in search.”

Earlier this week I got an email from a fellow who has been using Facebook to market his products. He was utterly convinced that nearly all the clicks he’s received on his ad were fake – bots, he thought, that were programmed to make his campaigns look as if they were performing well. He was further convinced that Facebook was running a scam – running bot networks to drive performance metrics. I reminded him that Facebook was a public company run by people I believed were well intentioned, intelligent people who knew that such behavior, if discovered, would ruin both their reputation as well as that of the company.

Instead, I suggested, he might look to third parties he might be working with – or, hell, he might just be the victim of a drive-by shooting – poorly coded bots that just click on ad campaigns, regardless of whose they might be.

In short, I very much doubt Facebook (or Twitter) are actively driving fraudulent behavior on their networks. In fact, they have legions of folks devoted to foiling such efforts.Yet there is absolutely no doubt that an entire, vibrant ecosystem is very much engaged in gaming these services. And just like Google had at the dawn of search marketing, Twitter and Facebook have a very – er – complicated relationship with these fraudsters. On the one hand, the gray hats are undermining the true value of these social networks. But on the other, well, they seem to help important customers hit their Key Performance Indicators, driving very real money into company coffers, either directly or indirectly.

I distinctly recall a conversation with a top Google official in 2005, who – off the record – defended AdSense-splattered domain-squatters as “providing a service to folks who typed the wrong thing into the address bar.” Uh huh.

As long as marketers are obsessed with hollow metrics like follower counts, Likes, and unengaged “plays,” this ecosystem will thrive.

What truly matters, of course, is engagement that can be measured beyond the actions of bots. It is coming. But not before millions of dollars are siphoned off by the opportunists who have always lived on the Internet’s gray edge.

Who’s On First? (A Modest Proposal To Solve The Problem with First- and Third-Party Marketing)

By - July 26, 2012

Early last month I wrote a piece entitled Do Not Track Is An Opportunity, Not a Threat. In it I covered Microsoft’s controversial decision to incorporate a presumptive “opt out of tracking” flag in the next release of its browser, which many in the ad industry see as a major blow to the future of our business.

In the piece, I argued that Microsoft’s move may well force independent publishers (you know, like Searchblog, as well as larger sites like CNN or the New York Times) to engage in a years-overdue dialog with their readers about the value exchange between publisher, reader, and marketer. I laid out a scenario and proposed some language to kick that dialog off, but I gave short shrift to a problematic and critical framing concept. In this post, I hope to lay that concept out and offer, by way of example, a way forward. (Caveat: I am not an expert in policy or tech. I’ll probably get some things wrong, and hope readers will correct me if and when I do.)

The “concept” has to do with the idea of a first-party relationship – a difficult to define phrase that, for purposes of this post, means the direct relationship a publisher or a service has with its consumer.  This matters, a lot, because in the FTC’s recently released privacy framework, “first-party marketing” has been excluded from proposed future regulation around digital privacy and the use of data. However, “third-party” marketing, the framework suggests, will be subject to regulation that could require “consumer choice.”

OK, so in that last sentence alone are three terms, which I’ve put in quotes, that need definition if we are going to understand some pretty important issues. The most important is “first-party marketing,” and it’s damn hard to find a definition of that in the FTC document. But if you go back to the FTC’s *preliminary* report, issued in December of 2010, you can find this:

First-party marketing: Online retailers recommend products and services based upon consumers’ prior purchases on the website.

Later in the report, the term is further defined:

Staff proposes that first-party marketing include only the collection of data from a consumer with whom the company interacts directly for purposes of marketing to that consumer.

And in a footnote:

Staff also believes that online contextual advertising should fall within the “commonly accepted practices” category (Ed. note: Treated as OK, like first party marketing). Contextual advertising involves the delivery of advertisements based upon a consumer’s current visit to a web page or a single search query, without the collection and retention of data about the consumer’s online activities over time. As staff concluded in its 2009 online behavioral advertising report, contextual advertising is more transparent to consumers and presents minimal privacy intrusion as compared to other forms of online advertising. See OBA Report, supra note 37, at 26-27 (where a consumer has a direct interface with a particular company, the consumer is likely to understand, and to be in a position to control, the company’s practice of collecting and using the consumer’s data).

The key issue here for publishers, as far as I can tell, is this: “the delivery of advertisements based upon a consumer’s current visit to a web page or a single search query, without the collection and retention of data about the consumer’s online activities over time…where a consumer has a direct interface with a particular company, the consumer is likely to understand, and to be in a position to control, the company’s practice of collecting and using the consumer’s data.”

Whew. OK. We’re getting somewhere. Now, when that 2010 report came out, many in our industry freaked out, because of the next sentence, one which refers to – wait for it – third party marketing:

If a company shares data with a third party other than a service provider acting on the company’s behalf – including a business affiliate unless the affiliate relationship is clear to consumers through common branding or similar means – the company’s practices would not be considered first-party marketing and thus they would fall outside of “commonly accepted practices” … Similarly, if a website publisher allows a third party, other than a service provider, to collect data about consumers visiting the site, the practice would not be “commonly accepted.”

Now, this was a preliminary report, and the final report, which as I said earlier came out this past Spring, incorporates a lot of input from companies engaged in what the FTC described as “third party” marketing – companies like Google that were very concerned that the FTC was about to wipe out entire swathes of their business. And the fact is, it’s still not clear what’s going to be OK, and what isn’t. For now, my best summary is this: it’s OK for websites that have a “first party” relationship to use data collected on the site to market to consumers. If, however, those sites was to let “third parties” market to consumers, then, at some point soon, the sites need to figure out a way to give “consumers a choice” to opt out. If they don’t, they may be subject to regulation down the road.

Which brings us back to “Do Not Track,” or DNT. Now DNT has been held up as the easiest way to give consumer a choice about this issue – if a consumer has DNT enabled on their browser, then that consumer has very clearly made a choice – they don’t want third-party advertisements or data collection, thank you very much. See how easy that was?

Wrong, wrong, wrong!!! As implemented by Microsoft in IE 10, DNT is an extremely blunt instrument, one that, in fact, does *not* constitute a choice. It’s defaulted to “on,” which means that a consumer is not ever given a choice one way or the other. And once it’s on, it’s the same for every single site – which means you can’t say that you’re fine with third-party ads on a site you love (say, Searchblog, naturally), but not fine with a site you don’t like so much (say, I dunno,  You Got Rick Rolled).

That’s pretty lame. Shouldn’t we, as consumers, be able to chose which sites we trust, and which we don’t? That’s pretty much the point of my post on DNT last month.

Fact is, we don’t really have a way to demonstrate that trust. Many in the industry – including the IAB, where I am a board member – are working to clarify all this with the FTC. The working assumption is that it’s far too much to ask of most publishing sites to give consumers a choice, much less give them access to the data used to “target” them.

Well, I’m not so sure about that.

Check out this screen shot from independent site GigaOm (yes, FM works with GigaOm):

A few other sites are starting to do similar notices – and I applaud them (this is already becoming standard practice in the UK, due to strict regulations around cookies). GigOm is saying, in essence, that by simply continuing to read the site, you agree to their privacy policies. Now, take a look at what GigaOm’s policy has to say about “third party advertising:”

GigaOM may allow third party advertising serving companies, including ad networks (“Advertisers”), to display advertisements or provide other advertising services on GigaOM. These third party Advertisers may use techniques other than HTTP cookies to recognize your computer or device and/or to collect and record demographic and other Information about you, including your activities on or off GigaOM. These techniques may be used directly on GigaOM….Advertisers may use the information collected to display advertisements that are tailored to your interests or background and/or associate such information with your subsequent visits, purchases or other activities on other websites. Advertisers may also share this information with their clients or other third parties.

GigaOM has no responsibility for the technologies, tools or practices of the Advertisers that provide advertising and related services on GigaOM. This Privacy Policy does not cover any collection, use or disclosure of Information by Advertisers who provide advertising and related services on GigaOM. These Advertisers’ information gathering practices, including their policies regarding the use of cookies and other tracking technologies, are governed entirely by their own privacy policies, not this one.

To summarize: By reading GigaOm, you’ve made a choice, and that choice is to let GigaOm use third-party advertising. It’s a nifty move, and one I applaud: GigaOm has just established you as a first party to its content and services just like….

….Facebook, which just announced revenue of more than a billion dollars last quarter. Facebook, of course, has a first-party relationship with 955 million or so of us – we’ve already “opted in” to its service, through the Terms of Service we’ve all agreed to (and probably not read.) We’ve made a choice as consumers, and we’ve chosen to be marketed to on Facebook’s terms.

The same is true of Apple, Amazon, eBay, Yahoo, and any number of other large services which require registration and acceptance of Terms of Service in order for us to gain any value from their platforms. Google and Microsoft have been frantically catching up, getting as many of us as they can to register our identity and agree to a unified TOS in some way.

But what about independent publishers? You know, the rest of the web? Well, save folks like GigaOm (and AllThingsD, which warns its audience about cookies), we’ve never really paid attention to this issue. In the past, publishers have avoided doing anything that might get in the way of an audience consuming their content – it’s a death sentence if you’re engaged in the high holy art of Increasing Page Views. And bigger publishers like Time or Conde Nast don’t want to rock the boat, they’ll wait till a consensus forms, and then follow it.

But I like what GigaOm has done. It’s a very clear notice, it goes away after the first visit, and it reappears only if you’ve cleared your cookies (which happens a lot if you run an anti-virus program).

I think it’s time the “rest of the web” follows their lead. We rely on third-party advertising services (like FM) to power our sites. We live in uncertain times as it relates to regulation. And certainly we have direct relationships of trust with our audiences – or you wouldn’t be reading this far down the page. It’s time the independent web declares the value of our first-party relationships with audiences, and show the government – and our readers – that we have nothing to hide.

I plan to look into ways we might make easily available the code and language necessary to enact these policies. I’ll be back with more as I have it….

*Now, the other two terms bear some definition as well. I think it’s fair to say “consumer choice” means “give the consumer the ability to decide if they want their data used, and for what purposes,” and “third party marketing” means the use of data and display of commercial messages on a first party site by third-party companies – companies that are not the owner of the site or service you are using.

What We Lose When We Glorify “Cashless”

By - July 24, 2012

Look, I’m not exactly a huge fan of grimy greenbacks, but I do feel a need to point out something that most coverage of current Valley darling Square seems to miss: The “Death of Cash” also means the “death of anonymous transactions” – and no matter your view of the role of  government and corporations in our life, the very idea that we might lose the ability to transact without the creation of a record merits serious discussion. Unfortunately, this otherwise worthy cover story in Fortune about Square utterly ignores the issue.

And that’s too bad. A recent book called “The End of Money” does get into some of these issues – it’s on my list to read – but in general, I’ve noticed a lack of attention to the anonymity issue in coverage of hot payment startups. In fact, in interviews I’ve read, the author of “The End of Money” makes the point that cash is pretty much a blight on our society – in that it’s the currency of criminals and a millstone around the necks of the poor.

Call it a hunch, but I sense that many of us are not entirely comfortable with a world in which every single thing we buy creates a cloud of data. I’d like to have an option to not have a record of how much I tipped, or what I bought at 1:08 am at a corner market in New York City. Despite protections of law, technology, and custom, that data will remain forever, and sometimes, we simply don’t want it to.

What do you think?  (And yes, I am aware of bitcoin…)

BTW, this mini-rant is very related to my last post: First, Software Eats the World, Then, The Mirror World Emerges.

First, Software Eats the World, Then, The Mirror World Emerges

By - July 18, 2012

David Gelernter of Yale

(image Edge.org) A month or so ago I had the pleasure of sitting down with Valley legend Marc Andreessen, in the main for the purpose of an interview for my slowly-developing-but-still-moving-forward book. At that point, I had not begun re-reading David Gelernter’s 1991 classic Mirror Worlds: or the Day Software Puts the Universe in a Shoebox…How It Will Happen and What It Will Mean.

Man, I wish I had, because I could have asked Marc if it was his life-goal to turn David’s predictions into reality. Marc is well known for many things, but his recent mantra that “Software Is Eating the World” (Wall St. Journal paid link, more recent overview here) has become nearly everyone’s favorite Go-To Big Valley Trend. And for good reason – the idea seductively resonates on many different levels, and forms the backbone of not just Andreessen’s investment thesis, but of much of the current foment in our startup-driven industry.

A bit of background: Andreessen’s core argument is that nearly every industry in the world is being driven by or turned into software in one way or another. In some places, this process is deeply underway: The entertainment business is almost all software now, for example, and the attendant disruption has created extraordinary value for savvy investors in companies like Amazon, Netflix, and Apple. Further, Marc points out that the largest company in direct marketing these days is a software company: Google. His  thesis extends to transportation (think Uber but also FedEx, which runs on software), retail (besides Amazon, Walmart is a data machine),  healthcare (huge data opportunity, as yet unrealized), energy (same), and even defense. From his Journal article:

The modern combat soldier is embedded in a web of software that provides intelligence, communications, logistics and weapons guidance. Software-powered drones launch airstrikes without putting human pilots at risk. Intelligence agencies do large-scale data mining with software to uncover and track potential terrorist plots.

That quote reminds me of Wired’s first cover story, in 1993, about the future of war. But in 1991, two years before even that watershed moment (well, for me anyway), Yale scholar Gelernter published Mirror Worlds, and in it he predicted that we’d be putting the entire “universe in a shoebox” via software.  Early in the book, Gelernter posits the concept of the Mirror World, which might best be described as a more benign version of The Matrix, specific to any given task, place, or institution. He lays out how such worlds will come to be, and declares that the technology already exists for such worlds to be created. “The software revolution hasn’t begun yet; but it will soon,” he promises.

As we become infinite shadows of data, I sense Gelernter is right, and VCs like Andreessen and the entrepreneurs they are backing are leading the charge. I’ll be reviewing Mirror Worlds later in the summer – I’m spending time with Gelernter at this home in New Haven next month – but for now, I wanted to just note how far we’ve come, and invite all of you, if you are fans of his work, to help me ask Gelernter intelligent questions about how his original thesis has morphed in two decades.

It seems to me that if true “mirror worlds” are going to emerge, the first step will have to be “software eating the world” – IE, we’ll have to infect our entire physical realities with software, such that those realities emanate with real time and useful data. That seems to be happening apace. And the implications of how we go about architecting such systems are massive.

One of my favorite passages from Mirror Worlds, for what it’s worth:

The intellectual content, the social implications of these software gizmos make them far too important to be left in the hands of the computer sciencearchy…..Public policy will be forced to come to grips with the implications. So will every thinking person: A software revolution will change the way society’s business is conducted, and it will change the intellectual landscape.

Indeed!

The Nexus 7 and The Cloud Commit Conundrum: Google Wins (For Now)

By - July 13, 2012

Google was kind enough to send me a Nexus 7 tablet to play with last month, and over the past week or so I’ve had the chance to actually put it to use. Even though I own an iPad, I have serious reservations about the constraints of Apple’s iOS ecosystem (more on that below), so I was eager to see how Google’s alternative performed.

Now, before I get into details, I want to state what I think really matters here: The Nexus device – and others like it – represent a play for something extremely valuable: a hard-wired digital portal to our hearts, minds, and wallets. As I’ve written elsewhere, there are five major companies deeply engaged in this play – Amazon, Google, Facebook, Microsoft, and Apple. All of these companies want us to commit to their services as the basis of our digital lives – how we consume media and entertainment, how we manage our work and personal lives, where we store our most important information (including our money), and of course, how we declare who we are and what we believe (our identity). The more these companies can get us to upload our music, videos, photos, identities, purchases, browsing behaviors, etc. etc. etc. into their nebulae, the more they’ve locked us into a lifetime relationship of revenue and profit.

Put in that frame, your choice of tablet or phone is about much more than feeds and speeds or features and prices (for all that, see this Engadget review). It becomes a choice about what kind of a company you want as a partner in your digital life. Will the company let you export your data easily to other services? Will it be transparent about how your data is used? Will it have the guts to stand up to bad actors, whether they be governments or other corporations? Will the company create dashboards where you can see, edit, delete, and contest how your data is displayed?

In short, will the company be a good partner in your digital life? If you’re going to upload your digital doppelganger into this company’s servers, can you trust it? I call this choice the “Cloud Commit Conundrum,” and I’ll be writing about it more in the coming months.

For now, I’ll just say this: while Google is far from perfect on any number of fronts, it comes far closer than any other in embracing a philosophy that I feel I can trust when it comes to the cloud commitment conundrum. To wit: The Google Transparency Report. Further: The Data Liberation Front. And further, the open (and yes, messy) nature of Android. Lastly, I believe Google’s founding DNA is as a product of the open web, and its founders have a deep commitment to that idea, even as we enter a rather cloudy era of closed, non-generative systems and walled gardens.

But up till now, Google hadn’t really “wowed” me with a product that I felt I could really get behind.

No more. I’m not a hardcore tablet user, but I might become one thanks to this device. I found the iPad to be too large and heavy to use comfortably in casual situations (like reading in bed, for example), and too limited to use as a replacement for my laptop. By comparison, the Nexus 7 is just the right size for use anywhere – it’s very similar in size to my daughter’s Kindle Fire, but lighter.

But what I like about the Nexus is how good it is for all those lightweight web-connected tasks I want to execute on the run. I find web browsing, checking multiple email accounts, and Google mapping rather tiresome on an iPhone – the iPhone’s native interface, for all its supposed perfection, has all kinds of wrong baked in – and the screen is just far too small. The Nexus 7 is about the same size as a Moleskin notebook, and  it just *feels* like the right form factor for doing all those things you want to do on a smart phone, but can’t quite do in the right way.  It’s not too big, and not too small – just right.

It’s also very responsive, and has plentiful access to apps and content (Google is a bit aggressive in how it promotes its Play store – but it’s very easy to remove the Play clutter and customize your own experience). So far, it doesn’t have cellular service, but I expect that will come soon. The wifi works great, and I barely missed a beat this week in New York – seems there was open wifi just about anywhere I went.

I think Google has a winner on its hands here – and the $200 price point makes the Nexus a clear competitor to not only Amazon’s more limited $200 Fire, but to the more expensive and clunkier iPad.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and predict Apple will ship a 7-inch version of its iPad soon, at a similar price point. If it does, I’m sure it’ll be a strong competitor to the Nexus 7. But for me, the tiebreaker comes down to the cloud commit conundrum. And the winner there, so far anyway, is clearly Google.

Anyone in the market for a slightly used iPad 2?

(cloud image via Shutterstock)

Will Our Industry Ever Innovate Like Morse? Probably Not.

By - July 10, 2012

Last month I finished a compelling biography of Samuel Morse: Lightning Man: The Accursed Life Of Samuel F.B. Morse, by Pulitzer-prize winning author Kenneth Silverman. If you’re a fan of great biographies, or just want to learn more about the history of both our industry and of the United States during a seminal and innovative period, I certainly recommend this book.

If you had no idea that Morse was an acclaimed painter – possibly one of the top US artists of his era – well you’re in good company. I had no idea either. Born just a few years after the Constitutional convention, Morse grew up as one of the first native expressions of the new country that was America. A gifted painter, Morse never quite found his voice – his failure to create a masterpiece, in fact, drove his obsession with making his name as an inventor.

It was on a return trip from Europe in 1832, where he was studying art in Italy, that Morse came upon the idea for the telegraph. He was hardly alone, but his version of the idea turned out to be the most efficient and useful of many devised during the mid 1800s. Morse doggedly pursued his invention, convinced it was world changing. He was right, of course – but what I found most extraordinary about his story was how long Morse fought to get anyone to pay attention to his work, and, once proven, how hard he had to fight to keep claim to what was rightfully his.

Morse worked on perfecting his telegraph for nearly 15 years, and once he finally managed to demonstrate its efficacy, he endured several decades of lawsuits, public defamation, and endless commercial battles to maintain both his place in history as well as some claim to the fortunes created by his invention. In short, Morse’s life was pretty damn hellish for someone who laid the foundation for all that came after – including the modern Internet.

I can only imagine what Morse might think of the mayfly-like successes of “inventions” like Instagram, or Pinterest, or even Facebook and Google, compared with the ridicule, infamy, and commercial skullduggery he had to endure to finally see his contributions recognized, late in his life, after nearly four decades of struggle.

And it makes me wonder if our industry, for all its innovation, will ever be capable of the kind of breakthroughs that Morse represents – the man was past 50 years old when he first demonstrated his invention, and just past 80 when the world finally celebrated him as the “Father of the Telegraph.”  Imagine that – someone in the Internet industry, today, a founder with his or her first product who works on a prototype for 15 years, then introduces it at age 50?!

Of course, times are quite different today, and far faster to boot. Morse lived in a time when most of Europe was regularly at war with itself, when Britain invaded the United States, and he lived to watch the horrors of the Civil War unfold. His life spanned from America’s early, agrarian beginnings to the full bloom of the industrial age. And his invention had much to do with that shift: the telegraph shrank time and space to nearly nothing – allowing, for the first time, information to be communicated “as if by lightning.” Combined with the other great innovation of the day – the railroad – the telegraph allowed America to conquer its vast space and resources, and rise to become the most important power in the world.

When I think of the work Morse did, and the time it took him to do it, only a few people – and the companies they built – come to mind. One is Google, and the tinkering and invention Larry Page and Sergey Brin are encouraging through Google X. Another is Microsoft, which continues to drive innovation outside of its core revenue base through Microsoft Research. And another is IBM. But as much as I’d like to think that a lone inventor, obsessed to the point of near bankruptcy, might one day invent something that will forever change our world, I’m not sure that’s even possible anymore. It feels like an era that’s well over. Perhaps I’m wrong, but ….

I’ll get more into the impact of the telegraph in a review of The Victorian Internet: The Remarkable Story of the Telegraph and the Nineteenth Century’s On-line Pioneers, by Tom Standage (a must read for anyone in our industry, I’d wager). I finished that book a few weeks ago – and yes, I’m very far behind in my reviews here. Forgive me, I’ve been a bit distracted with family and work!

Other works I’ve reviewed:

Code: And Other Laws of Cyberspace, Version 2.0 by Larry Lessig (review)

You Are Not a Gadget: A Manifesto (Vintage) by Jaron Lanier (review)

WikiLeaks and the Age of Transparency by Micah Sifry (review)

Republic, Lost: How Money Corrupts Congress–and a Plan to Stop It by Larry Lessig (review)

Where Good Ideas Come From: A Natural History of Innovation by Steven Johnson (my review)

The Singularity Is Near: When Humans Transcend Biology by Ray Kurzweil (my review)

The Corporation (film – my review).

What Technology Wants by Kevin Kelly (my review)

Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other by Sherry Turkle (my review)

The Information: A History, a Theory, a Flood by James Gleick (my review)

In The Plex: How Google Thinks, Works, and Shapes Our Lives by Steven Levy (my review)

The Future of the Internet–And How to Stop It by Jonathan Zittrain (my review)

The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century by George Friedman (my review)

Physics of the Future: How Science Will Shape Human Destiny and Our Daily Lives by the Year 2100 by Michio Kaku (my review)

Year Zero: This Is What the Beach Was Made For

By -

It’s summertime, and if you’re not already lying on a beach somewhere, I’ve got a good reason for you to go: My friend Rob Reid’s new novel is out today, and it’s absolutely tailor made for beach reading. It’s called Year Zero, and it’s a hilarious send up of the music industry, mixed, naturally, with a ripping yarn about aliens, romance, and intergalatic politics.

Rob let me read an early-ish draft of the book, and I loved it. It’s his first novel, years in the making, and it’s a masterstroke.

Given all the headlines just this week about the music industry’s endless self-inflicted woes, Rob’s timing couldn’t be better. Here are just two, ripped from my favorite aggregator Media ReDEFined just this week:

How Big Music Threatened Startups and Killed Innovation

Are There Too Many Music Streaming Services?

Not to mention, of course, the ongoing Kim Dotcom/Pirate Bay drama.

You guys know I don’t often recommend fiction – but despite the fact that Rob and I are drinking buddies, I must say, this is one book I can tell you to go buy, now!

Below is the Year Zero “trailer,” an idea I plan to steal for my book when it comes out next year!

It’s Hard to Lay Fallow

By - June 27, 2012

I’ll admit it, I’m one of those people who has a Google News alert set for my own name. Back in the day, it meant a lot more than it does now – the search results used to pick up blog mentions as well as “regular” news mentions, and before FacebookLand took over our world (and eschewed Google’s), a news alert was a pretty reliable way to find out what folks might be saying about you or your writing on any given day.

Like most folks who maintain a reasonably public conversation, I now watch Twitter’s @replies far more than I do Google news alerts. Of course, Twitter doesn’t catch everything, so I never unsubscribed from my Google News alert.

Yesterday, one came over the transom, and it kind of crushed me.  “The End of the Tech Conference?” it asked. The opening line was included in the snippet: “The heartbreak was palpable when John Battelle announced via blog post back in April that the Web 2.0 Summit would not be held for the first time since its debut in 2004.”

The funny thing is, while I think the writer intended to describe the Web 2 community’s “heartbreak” – certainly an arguable supposition given how overwhelmed our industry is with conferences – what she may not have realized is how close to home the line hit for me. When I read it, I felt my own loss – it’s difficult to stop doing something you’ve done well and for a long time. In my case, I’ve hosted a gathering of Internet industry leaders nearly every year since 1998 (before Web 2, there was The Industry Standard’s “Internet Summit”). That’s a decade and a half. Not doing it is far harder than I thought.

I took the decision to step away from the Web 2 Summit as inevitable for two main reasons. First, I needed to work on the book, and there didn’t seem to be room for such an ambitious project if I kept my two other day jobs (Web 2 and Federated Media Publishing). Web 2 takes an extraordinary amount of time to do – with nearly 70 speakers and three days of programming, my life very quickly becomes overwhelmed with research, production calls, and pre-interviews, not to mention all the sales, operations, and marketing work.

Second, I had been doing Web 2 for a long time, and I wanted to step away and look at it with fresh eyes – let it lay fallow, so to speak. Stop tilling and seeding the same soil, let it repair, in the most catholic interpretation of the word (“repair” derives from the Latin “to go home”). And it’s this part that’s been really hard. It’s a natural cycle of grief, in a way – I’m probably deep in the trough of sorrow right now – but I do kind of miss the work.

In other words, it’s hard to lay fallow.

But the beauty of a fallow field is what’s going on underneath. If you trust yourself enough, you’ll realize all kinds of seeds are competing to push through and gather the resources of your attention. I’m learning that it takes a lot of will power to let that process run its course. I find myself “watering” all sorts of potential new growth ideas. I’m not sure which will take root, which are weeds, and which might yield the wrong crop, so to speak. And that’s scary.

But it’s also good. If you’re not a little scared, you’re not really paying attention, are you?

Meanwhile, I can report that I *will* be involved in a new kind of gathering this Fall, one that I can’t yet announce, because it involves many other wonderful partners. It’s not a typical tech conference, and it’s certainly not on par with Web 2 in terms of commitment or time – either from me or the attendees. But it’s a seed, one I’m happy to be cultivating. Stay tuned for more on that soon.

Meanwhile, back to the fallows…

(image: Shutterstock)

When You’re Stuck, Go Out And Talk To People

By - June 22, 2012

Yay! It's a nameless hotel ballroom! But the people who fill it are what matter...

I had one of those kind of days yesterday that reaffirm my belief in our industry, in its people, and in the work I do.

It’s not easy to sit here and write, much less write a book, and I’ll admit lately my faith (and my productivity) has flagged – there’s so much work left to do, so little time in which to do it, and so many other things – Federated Media, conferences, board positions, family, new business ideas – competing for my attention.

Fortunately I had reserved yesterday for a Valley reporting day. I managed to drag myself out of my recently-unproductive writer’s lair and into the bright sunlight of Sand Hill Road, Sunnyvale, and Palo Alto. I was fortunate to meet with some of the smartest folks in the business, and as I did, I relaized how easy it is to shake yourself out of a funk: Just get the hell out of your routine, pick up the phone, make a few appointments, and go talk to some interesting folks.

I’ll give you another example. Last week I went to Chicago for a joint board meeting between the IAB (where I am a board member), the Association of National Advertisers, and the 4As (that stands for the American Association of Advertising Agencies). I’ll admit I really didn’t want to go. I have come to hate business travel because it interrupts the flow of creation – I find it nearly impossible to write anything if I have to take the majority of the week to drive to the airport, get frisked, eat crap food on an airplane, then spend a couple of days in an airless, soul-sucking ballroom that practically drips with the steamed ghosts of ten thousand badly cooked chickens. Lather, rinse and repeat for the trip back. Ugh.

Only…once I settled into the meeting, I learned more in two days than I ever could from two weeks sitting in front of this screen. I got far smarter on the issues of marketing measurement, self regulation, and Do Not Track. I serendipitously managed to do some due diligence on a business I’ve been looking into. I gathered some critical intel on another deal I’ve been working, met a handful of senior people in the marketing industry I’ve been meaning to get to know, had lunch with an old colleague with whom I’d have otherwise never connected, and even managed to take a long run in the woods of Northbrook, Illinois, during which I happened upon a family of raccoons happily climbing a tree.

I left both excursions feeling like I had far more to say than when I began. And that’s my point. When you’re stuck, get out and talk to people. It always works for me.