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Lately I’ve been thinking about the role of technology in changing the relationship Canadians have with all levels of government. The potential for open data to create transparency and direct citizen engagement in deciding how their city is run, and how an MP can now speak directly with the Canadian public across the country to address concerns and respond to criticisms about recently introduced legislation, are two recent examples of how technology is creating opportunities to reshape the way the public interacts with government.

Particularly fascinating is the potential for the proliferation of low cost digital cameras to exponentially increase the opportunities to hold accountable authorities who break the rules.  Two weeks ago, the Braidwood inquiry concluded that the RCMP (in CBC’s words) were “not justified in using a Taser against the Polish immigrant and that the officers later deliberately misrepresented their actions to investigators.” The basis for these damning conclusions is the now infamous bystander video of Robert Dziekanski’s taser-induced death at the Vancouver airport in 2007, which lead me to tweet the following:

Rhetorical question of the day: Would there have been a #Braidwood inquiry without the video?

Only several days later, I watched the crowdsourced panopticon that was the G20 vandalism, and the resulting overreaction from police, via photos uploaded in realtime to Twitter (and on television).  In a few of the photos I saw, it looked like much of the crowd was there to gawk and photograph everything that moved. Listening to a podcast from The Globe’s @IvorTossell, who was live-tweeting and sharing photos of the protest, my suspicions were confirmed. The 4 minute piece called “All the world’s a cellphone-equipped stage” noted the same observation: that much of the crowd was there to take pictures and shot video; a change that signified a new era accountability and scrutiny towards both the vandals that broke windows and set fire to police cars and the riot-gear-clad cops who stormed peaceful protesters singing the national anthem.  The resulting images and footage were pretty incredible, even mesmerizing.

But even more astounding is this report from The Globe: the man shot the video of the death of Robert Dziekanski was at the G20 capturing more examples of the police behaving badly with the very same camera.

“I saw two different people get surrounded by police and beat down pretty bad,” [Paul Pritchard] said. “They didn’t get released until the crowd chanted for their release.”

He realized his cellphone camera was not adequate for what he expected was about to happen. He raced home on his bicycle to retrieve a trusty Sony Cyber-shot camera.

It was with that camera that Mr. Pritchard once captured the shocking images of a man’s death.

At 1:21 a.m. on Oct. 14, 2007, Mr. Pritchard, who had been teaching English in China, was at Vancouver International Airport on his way home to Victoria to see his father, who was dying of cancer. A ruckus in the arrivals area led him to train his camera on a distraught passenger. Four minutes later, police arrived and, in a stunning sequence later aired for millions of viewers, the traveller was zapped by a taser, his anguished cries the last sound he would make before dying. Mr. Pritchard continued shooting over the objections of a security guard.

This man personifies the new era we’re only just beginning to understand.

While size of these already-powerful devices continues to shrink – the power of the smartphone in your pocket now exceeds that of the computer you bought in 2001 – the quality and storage capacity, and the digital distribution network transmitting the media they create, only continue to expand exponentially.

This expansion is predictable. It follows along a smooth exponential curve when graphed, representing the rapid doubling of the speed and price performance of all information technology. But while the continued acceleration and ubiquity of technological expansion are assured, the resulting social and political consequences are still very much up in the air.

What will this future mean for Canadians and our democracy? I’m anxious to find out.

Do LOLCats help fight censorship? The surprising answer is that yes they do.

This year’s Dalton Camp Lecture in Journalism was a feast for media nerds like me. Former CBC reporter and producer Sue Gardner, now executive director of the Wikimedia Foundation, made more insightful comments about the future of media, journalism and the way the web is changing our relationship with information than I can recount here. But one comment on the resiliency of the web in adressing would be censors of widely adopted social media platforms really stuck out for me.

Reflecting on the usefulness of Twitter to the Iranian election protests last June, Sue Gardner said (with my added emphasis and links):

Things like Twitter are really hard to censor because they are tools that lots of people use for lots of different reasons. There’s a guy named Ethan Zuckerman, who is a fellow at the Berkman Institute at MIT and he calls this the “cute cat theory.”

So the theory is that if millions of ordinary people use a tool like Flickr, or YouTube, or Twitter, or Facebook, or whatever – and they use it to share cute pictures of cats, or their grandchildren, or party invitations, or snapshots, or whatever – and meanwhile a few activists also use that same tool for other purposes, to share “information that wants to be free,” that people want to suppress: that makes censorship really difficult.

What happens is that if you try and shut down the tool that people are using to share cute pictures of cats they will freak out, right?  Because they want to share the pictures of the cats.

So what that means is that the pictures of the cat lovers provide cover for tools that are also used for, frankly, more important purposes such as for sharing information that would otherwise be suppressed. So the utility, the sort of general broad utility, of something like twitter makes it much much harder to censor.

Unsurprisingly, I’d recommend that you listen to the entire hour long 2009 Dalton Camp Lecture in Journalism, and while you’re at it, subscribe to the CBC Ideas podcast where I found this gem among many others. Lastly, a hat tip to the I can has cheezburger network, including the infamous FAIL Blog, for their enormous lack of FAIL.

I’ve had a few days to digest everything I took in at ChangeCamp Edmonton, an unconference that I attended last Saturday. I still feel inspired.

Choosing from a grid of open discussions about participation and collaboration between citizens and government pitched by attendees on the day, the sessions I attended at ChangeCamp Edmonton emphasized a new openness and transparency between people and the institutions that represent us.

I intend to blog about other sessions I attended, but to start with I need to get these lingering thoughts about Mack Male‘s open data session off of my chest:

(for those unfamiliar with open data, check out the related links at the end of this post and the open data wikipedia page)

The problem of privacy

Unfortunately, the conversation seemed to get bogged down with privacy issues, which I agree are a legitimate concern anytime we’re dealing with data relating to individual citizens.

The problem is that even with personal identifiers stripped from the data, resourceful data mining detectives could potentially cross reference many seemingly unrelated databases to piece together enough circumstantial evidence to pin point someone’s identity. This is a legitimate concern and a place where I believe a moratorium on open data relating to individual citizens should exist until these privacy risks can be adequately considered and addressed.

But what about public data?

Nearing the end of our 45 minute session, I looked up from my laptop note taking to make this point:  is this focus on privacy the wrong conversation to be having? Can’t we a make a clear distinction between data about citizens and data about our public institutions and how they function?

In any democracy there is an expectation of transparency for elected officials and public institutions, so let’s get started on open data by opening up data about, and created by, these institutions and making it more accessible.

Creating transparent institutions

I posed a second – mostly rhetorical – question to the group of about 40 people, (which included Government of Alberta and City of Edmonton employees):  If we want to look through the details of specific expenditures in an expense line on a budget for a public office or institution, why shouldn’t that be possible if the technology is available  (which it is) and the cost isn’t prohibitive (which it isn’t)?

Public data is currently released in a heavily formatted, edited and “locked” format like a PDF. We’ve paid for our governments and institutions to collect that data, why shouldn’t they make it available in a format that facilitates editing an analysis by citizens?

Recent complaints from journalists trying to make their way through the federal government’s labyrinth of stimulus spending is another compelling reason why it’s time we demanded data be accessible in an open format from all levels of government.

Citizens as investigators of the “long tail”

Kevin Kuchinski made a great point nearing the end of the initial open data discussion: there are huge amounts of data collected stored on paper by all levels of government already.

The problem becomes obvious with this question: Do citizens file freedom of information requests for fun?

My sense is that the fees, delays and hassle prevent all but the most dutiful citizens from looking through our existing public data in their spare time.

The necessity of combing through reams of paper looking for the proverbial “needle in the haystack” is the why we’ve needed highly dedicated professional investigative journalists to discover important secrets and hold our institutions accountable.

I’m proposing that we implement policies that make it easy for anyone to be Woodward and/or Bernstein in their spare time.

We need to tap into the “long tail” of expertise outside government. But to do so we will need to elect leaders that legitimately value transparency enough to work with citizens to create a wikipedia style community interested in using their spare time to make our public institutions more efficient, transparent and accountable.

I love this goal.

Real transparency has the potential to be more a transformative, non-partisan game changer than, for example, a provincial fringe party electing a new seemingly capable leader ever will. *cough* #WAP *cough*

Some slight reservations

But there’s one dark cloud: Lawrence Lessig’s recent cautionary analysis, “Against Transparency”

Essentially Lessig is saying that open data about public institutions must take place in the context of a movement of people focused on fixing problems as they are discovered, lest open data lead to disillusionment and breed further cynicism and apathy. Luckily, we’re are meeting that bar by bringing citizens together to discuss these issues, one unconference at a time.

Lastly, let me reiterate my thanks to all the participants, organizers and sponsors that made ChangeCamp Edmonton such an enormous success.

Related links

Mastermaq’s open data blog post

DJ Kelly on open data in Calgary

David Eaves on the three laws of open government data

said:

@rhh awesome avatar.

said:

@andrewmcintyre i salute you ;)

*Glenn Beck on Media Matters

While the prospect of a federal election this Fall threatens to derail the entire process, the government’s copyright reform consultations are picking up speed and starting to capture some attention. I’ve followed the consultations closely. I read the crowd-aggregated news stories, Op-Eds and blog posts on twitter (at the hashtag #copycon), observed the Calgary roundtable and even watched the webcast of the Montreal townhall.

As noted in previous posts on this topic, I’ve been personally interested in copyright and internet law (and certainly copyright enforcement) since I downloaded my first MP3 thirteen years ago.  Recently, I’ve been fortunate to have the issue intersect with my professional life as well. At the PSE Partners conference last week, Dr. Meera Nair had a very interesting response to a question I asked her about how digital locks – software that blocks users’ ability to copy files including Technonological Protection Measures, TPMs, and Digital Rights Management, DRM – reconcile with the fair dealing provision afforded by Canadian legislation and case law.  Dr. Nair explains on her blog “Fair Duty”

Simply put, once a work is locked, it’s game over. Fair dealing is meaningless if you cannot access the material. Many individuals are anxious that IF Canadian law were to prohibit the circumvention of TPMs, such a prohibition should only apply to circumvention for infringing purposes. Meaning, if you circumvent a TPM for a noninfringing use, such as fair dealing, you will not run afoul of the law. Yet, there is a question of why permit the use of TPMs at all? TPMs take away existing rights available to Canadians. To limit access to published work is to deny fair dealing. Said another way, TPMs violate a structure of law that has been in place since the creation of copyright itself (nearly300 years) and present in Canadian law since its inception in 1924.

In other words, the very idea of companies or industry consortiums using digital locks to prevent people from making copies of works they’ve legally purchased runs counter to the notion of limitation in copyright law – which limits both creators and consumers -  as well as the existing provisions afforded by fair dealing under Canadian law.

Sadly, in reading and listening to many of the remarks of industry stakeholders at the formal roundtables and the townhall, this unwarranted trampling of Canadian’ rights through the imposition of digital locks is being touted as the only way these industries can save themselves from the unwashed masses of file sharers. At least in the realm of music, this position is convieniently ignoring UK music industry economists’ admission that the music industry is growing.

In today’s Toronto Star, Michael Geist addresses the issue of creating longevity in any forthcoming adjustments to Canadian copyright law, and in doing so, establishes four principles to employ in the evaluation of proposed changes. Dr. Geist’s second point implicitly addresses the issue of digital locks by acknowledging the short comings of proprietary technological constraints.

First, copyright law should strive for balance between creator rights and users’ rights. If the law tilts too far in one direction, the other side is virtually guaranteed to put the issue of reform back on the table and the changes do not last.

Second, the law must be technologically neutral. Copyright has proven remarkably resilient over the decades in large measure because it states broad principles about the scope and limits of protection. If copyright veers too far toward specific technologies by mandating new protection for specific business models or technological innovations, those rules risk being overtaken as the technologies and marketplace evolve.

Third, the law should strive for simplification and clarity. Copyright may once have been a niche issue understood by a small number of experts, yet today it affects the daily lives of millions. If Canadians are to respect the law, they must first understand it. When Bill C-61 proposed a 12-part test to determine whether recording a television program was legal, it rendered the law far too complex for the average person.

Fourth, the law should embrace flexibility, which has allowed many copyright provisions to adapt to continually changing economic and technology environments. Flexibility requires a general-purpose law and ensures that it works for stakeholders across the spectrum, whether documentary filmmakers, musicians, teachers, researchers, businesses or consumers.

I’m hopeful that something reasonable will come out of these consultations but I also worry that the government is going to miss the mark and embrace the imposition of a copyright clampdown that either restricts established legal protections or turns regular Canadians into criminals.  You can do your part to make sure that doesn’t happen by making your voice heard.

Make your written submission right here: http://copyright.econsultation.ca/topics-sujets/show-montrer/18

This week I noticed an opportunity to perform a little experiment on the traffic generated by relevant links in the comments of Paul Krugman’s Friday column in the New York Times.

The article in question was “The  Joy of Sachs,” a critique of the record quarterly profits posted last week by Goldman Sachs, even while the continuing, endless economic decline surrounds them on all sides. Goldman Sachs is  a Wall Street giant whose successful senior executives regularly pass through the revolving door into the US Treasury Department. Yep, the foxes are running the hen house.

Or as Krugman puts it:

Goldman is very good at what it does. Unfortunately, what it does is bad for America.

I’ve been watching Goldman Sachs closely lately. I want to know how these guys are gaming the system to come out on top no matter what market they operate in.  So moments after the article was posted at 10:00 MT on Thursday night (12:00 AM ET or Friday morning in New York) I posted this comment inviting other readers to look at two other relevant pieces I recently shared on twitter providing some background on Goldman Sachs.

For more in depth analysis of Goldman Sachs’ slimy business practices I recommend:

1. Matt Taibbi’s “Vampire Squid” take on Goldman Sachs in the latest Rolling Stone: http://bit.ly/hwCbZ

2. CBC’s 30 minute interview with Pulitzer-Prize-winning investigative reporter David Cay Johnston on Goldman Sachs & Gov’t. Here’s the MP3: http://bit.ly/ZzLFm

It was the first comment posted on the op-ed. Four days and 279 NYT “recommends” later my comment was the 13th most recommended comment and on the first page. Admittedly, both the Taibbi and Johnston pieces are excellent, but I am still surprised by the results of the web traffic experiment.

I used the bit.ly URL shortener for each link. With 40 clicks on the Taibbi piece and 52 clicks on the David Cay Johnston interview to start with, I was impressed to see a huge spike in traffic.

With gems like this delicious line – “the world’s most powerful investment bank is a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity, relentlessly jamming its blood funnel into anything that smells like money”  – my link to Matt Taibbi’s Goldman Sachs piece received 1324 clicks on Friday and 271 and 74 clicks on Saturday and Sunday respectively.

My direct link to CBC’s The Current Podcast episode with  David Cay Johnston, a hidden gem from Canada’s public broadcaster received tons of traffic too, even after I described it as a “30 minute interview.”  After 768 clicks on Friday the podcast received 199 and 205 on Saturday and Sunday.

Four days later my quick comment with two relevant backgrounder pieces have generated over 3,000 clicks between to the two shortened URLs.

There’s a lesson here. Curating, saving and sharing relevant, valuable links in the comments of very popular websites can generate impressive traffic.  Traffic that leads away from the New York Times’ website. This is a big change.

It’s like I encouraged readers to put  down the newspaper to read a magazine and listen to the radio.  But the Times‘ does benefit from my traffic draining, eyeball diverting links. Creating a community that encourages users to link to background information maintains their reputation as the place to get information; the “paper” of record, even if there are no dead trees involved.

In the end, I’m just happy to do what I can to expose Goldman’s business practices and help the Times readers call “bullshit” on the Wall Street orthodoxy that deserves at least part of the blame for the near-total economic meltdown.