Chapter 2

The birth of the electronic community... and the backlash

New forms of community were emerging that stressed the actual

contributions of the participants, rather than whatever prepackaged

content they had in common. In many cases, these contributions took

the form not of ideas or text but technology itself.

The early interactive mediaspace was a gift economy (see Barbrook2).

People developed and shared new technologies with no expectation of

financial return. It was gratifying enough to see one's own email

program or bulletin board software spread to thousands of other users.

The technologies in use on the internet today, from browsers and POP

email programs to streaming video, were all developed by this

shareware community of software engineers. The University of Illinois

at Champagne Urbana, where Mozilla, the precursor to Netscape, was

first developed was a hotbed of new software development. So was

Cornell and MIT, as well as hundreds of more loosely organised hacker

groups around the world.

Invariably, the software applications developed by this community

stressed communication over mere data retrieval. They were egalitarian

in design. IRC chats and USENET groups, for example, present every

contributor's postings in the same universal ASCII text. The internet

was a text-only medium and its user was as likely to be typing into

the keyboard as reading what was on screen. It is as if the internet's

early developers released that this was not a medium for broadcasting

by a few but for the expression of the many.

People became the content, a shift that had implications not just for

the online community but for society as a whole. The notion of a group

of people working together for a shared goal rather than financial

self-interest was quite startling to Westerners whose lives had been

organised around the single purpose of making money and achieving

personal security. The internet was considered sexy simply because

young people took an interest in it. People who developed internet

applications in this way were called cyberpunks or hackers, and their

antics were often equated with those of Wild West outlaws, hippies,

Situationists and even communists.

But their organisation model was much more complex and potentially

far-reaching than those of their countercultural predecessors. Many of

these early technology and media pioneers would not have considered

themselves to be part of a counterculture at all. Indeed, many new

models for networked behaviour and collaborative engagement were

developed at research facilities dedicated to the advancement of

military technology. A US government policy requiring all firms

working under Defense Department contracts to test their employees'

blood and urine for illegal drug use led to a certain disconnection

between most Silicon Valley firms and the majority of the fledgling

computer counterculture. (In fact, of all the Silicon Valley firms,

only Sun computing quite conspicuously refused to do drug testing on

its employees.)

Whatever the applications envisioned for the communication technology

being developed, the operating principles of the finished networking

solutions, as well as the style of collaboration required to create

them, offered up a new cultural narrative based in collective

self-determination.

Online communities sprung up seemingly from nowhere. On the West Coast

in the late 1980s one of Ken Kesey's Merry Pranksters, Stewart Brand

(now co-founder of the prestigious Global Business Network), conceived

and implemented an online bulletin board called The Well (Whole Earth

'Lectronic Link). Within two years thousands of users had joined the

dial-in computer conferencing system and were sharing their deepest

hopes and fears with one another. Famous scientists, authors,

philosophers and scores of journalists flocked to the site in order to

develop their ideas collaboratively rather than alone. Meanwhile as

the internet continued to develop, online discussions in a distributed

system called USENET began to proliferate. These were absolutely

self-organising discussions about thousands of different topics. They

themselves spawned communities of scientists, activists, doctors, and

patients, among so many others, dedicated to tackling problems in

collaboration across formerly prohibitive geographical and cultural

divides.

The Backlash

These new communities are perhaps why the effects of the remote,

joystick and mouse represented such a tremendous threat to business as

usual. Studies in the mid-1990s showed that families with

internet-capable computers were watching an average of nine hours less

television per week. Even more frightening to those who depended on

the mindless passivity of consumer culture, internet enthusiasts were

sharing information, ideas and whole computer programs for free!

Software known as 'freeware' and 'shareware' gave rise to a gift

economy based on community and mutual self-interest. People were

turning to alternative news and entertainment sources, which they

didn't have to pay for. Worse, they were watching fewer commercials.

Something had to be done. And it was.

It is difficult to determine exactly how intentional each of the

mainstream media's attacks were on the development of the internet and

the culture it spawned. Certainly, the many executives of media

conglomerates who contacted my colleagues and I for advice throughout

the 1990s were both threatened by the unchecked growth of interactive

culture and anxious to cash in on these new developments. They were

chagrined by the flow of viewers away from television programming, but

they hoped this shift could be managed and ultimately exploited. While

many existing content industries, such as the music recording

industry, sought to put both individual companies and entire new

categories out of business (such as Napster and other peer-to-peer

networks), the great majority of executives did not want to see the

internet entirely shut down. It was, in fact, the US government,

concerned about the spread of pornography to minors and encryption

technology to rogue nations, that took more direct actions against the

early internet's new model of open collaboration.

Although many of the leaders and top shareholders of global media

conglomerates felt quite threatened by the rise of new media, their

conscious efforts to quell the unchecked spread of interactive

technology were not the primary obstacles to the internet's natural

development. A review of articles quoting the chiefs at TimeWarner,

Newscorp, and Bertelsman reveals an industry either underestimating or

simply misunderstanding the true promise of interactive media.

The real attacks on the emerging new media culture were not

orchestrated by old men from high up in glass office towers but arose

almost as systemic responses from an old media culture responding to

the birth of its successor. It was both through the specific, if

misguided, actions of some media executives, as well as the much more

unilateral response of an entire media culture responding to a threat

to the status quo, that mainstream media began to reverse the effects

of the remote, the joystick and the mouse.

Borrowing a term from 1970s social science, media business advocates

declared that we were now living in an 'attention economy'. True

enough, the mediaspace might be infinite but there are only so many

hours in a day during which potential audience members might be

viewing a program. These units of human time became known as

eyeball-hours, and pains were taken to create TV shows and web sites

'sticky' enough to engage those eyeballs long enough to show them an

advertisement.

Perhaps coincidentally, the growth of the attention economy was

accompanied by an increase of concern over the attention spans of

young people. Channel surfing and similar behaviour became equated

with a very real but variously diagnosed childhood illness called

Attention Deficit Disorder. Children who refused to pay attention were

(much too quickly) drugged with addictive amphetamines before the real

reasons for their adaptation to the onslaught of commercial messages

were even considered.

The demystification of media, enabled by the joystick and other early

interactive technologies, was quickly reversed through the development

of increasingly opaque computer interfaces. While early DOS computer

users tended to understand a lot about how their computers stored

information and launched programs, later operating systems such as

Windows 95 put more barriers in place. Although these operating

systems make computers easier to use in some ways, they prevent users

from gaining access or command over its more intricate processes. Now,

to install a new program, users must consult the 'wizard'. What better

metaphor do we need for the remystification of the computer? Computer

literacy no longer means being able to program a computer, but merely

knowing how to use software such as Microsoft Office.

Finally, the do-it-yourself ethic of the internet community was

replaced by the new value of commerce. The communications age was

rebranded as the information age, even though the internet had never

really been about downloading files or data, but about communicating

with other people. The difference was that information, or content,

unlike real human interaction, could be bought and sold. It was a

commodity. People would pay, it was thought, for horoscopes, stock

prices and magazine articles. When selling information online didn't

work, businesspeople instead turned to selling real products online.

Horoscope.com and online literary journals gave way to Pets.com and

online bookstores. The e-commerce boom was ignited. Soon the internet

became the World Wide Web. Its opaque and image-heavy interfaces made

it increasingly one-way and read-only, more conducive to commerce than

communication. The internet was reduced to a direct marketing

platform.

The burst of the bubble and the re-emergence of community

Few e-commerce companies made any money selling goods, but the idea

that they could was all that mattered. When actual e-commerce didn't

work, the internet was rebranded yet again as an investment platform.

The Web was to be the new portal through which the middle class could

invest in the stock market. And which stocks were they to invest in?

Internet stocks, of course! Like any good pyramid scheme, everyone was

in on it. Or at least they thought they were.

News stories about online communities such as The Well, or even

discussion groups for breast cancer survivors were soon overshadowed

by those about daring young entrepreneurs launching

multi-million-dollar IPOs (Initial Price Offerings of formerly private

stock on public exchanges such as the NYSE or NASDAQ.) Internet

journalism, written by option-holding employees of media

conglomerates, moved from the culture section to the business pages

and the dot.com pyramid scheme became the dominant new media story.

A medium born out of the ability to break through packaged stories was

now being used to promote a new, equally dangerous one: the great

pyramid. A smart kid writes a business plan. He finds a few 'angel'

investors to back him up long enough to land some first-level

investors. Below them on the pyramid are several more rounds of

investors, until the investment bank gets involved. Another few levels

of investors buy in until the decision is made to go public. Of

course, by this point, the angels and other early investors are

executing their exit strategy. It used be known as a carpet bag. In

any case they're gone and the investing public is left holding the

soon-to-be-worthless shares.

Tragically, but perhaps luckily, the dot.com bubble burst along with

the story being used to keep it inflated. The entire cycle, the birth

of a new medium, the battle to control it and the downfall of the

first victorious camp, taught us a lot about the relationship of

stories to the technologies through which they are disseminated. And

the whole ordeal may have given us an opportunity for renaissance.

Back here in the real world, the internet is doing just fine. Better

than ever. The World Wide Web, whose rather opaque platform ascended

primarily for its ability to serve as an online catalogue, has been

adapted to serve many of the internet's original, more technologically

primitive functions. USENET discussions have been reborn as web-based

bulletin boards such as Slashdot, and Metafilter. Personal daily

diaries known as weblogs have multiplied by the thousands. Blogger.com

provides a set of publishing tools that allows even a novice to create

a weblog, automatically add content to a Web site or organise links,

commentary and open discussions. In the short time Blogger has been

available, it has fostered an interconnected community of tens of

thousands of users. These people don't simply surf the Web. They are

now empowered to create it.

Rising from the graveyard of failed business plans, these

collaborative communities of authors and creators are the true

harbingers of cultural and perhaps political renaissance.

Open Source Democracy: How online communication is changing offline politics · 第 2 / 5 章