My muse is sadly thin.

Last Tuesday I was at the Berkman Center for “The Second and Third Enclosures”, a presentation by poet and cultural critic Lewis Hyde on what he calls “our ‘cultural commons,’ that vast store of ideas, inventions, and works of art that we have inherited from the past and continue to produce.”

Hyde is working on a book about why these ideas and works of art should be owned by the commons, rather than by individuals. His thesis is that limiting ownership of creative works also limits human creativity in ways we can’t begin to imagine (mostly because there’s no way to know that we’re missing out on them).

I’ve been trying for a week to write up my notes from the event, but I keep getting bogged down by amusing quotes (see: “beating back the bounds,” “fattening your muse”) and a train of thought that winds through medieval England, Scottish printing presses and Roman law to somehow end up at John Cage’s 4’33”.

This is not to say that Hyde’s presentation was less than coherent: many others, including fellow Berktern Joey Mornin, blogging machine David Weinberger and Ethan Zuckerman, have posted recaps.

But potential blog posts have painfully short half-lives, and in half an hour I’m heading back to the Berkman conference room for a talk by Beth Kolko on how communications technology takes on different meanings in resource-constrained environments. I’m going to force myself to live-blog this one.

Evaluating China’s Green Dam software

The news that China will begin requiring all computers sold in the country to include Internet filtering software has sparked waves of commentary on topics ranging from legal challenges to human rights issues to concerns about security and effectiveness. Also, a post on African porn.

The software, known as Green Dam Youth Escort, ostensibly protects children from harmful information online by filtering out sites that contain prohibited keywords. It will be mandatory on every computer sold in China after July 1, 2009.

The OpenNet Initiative, where I’m working as part of my internship for Harvard’s Berkman Center, worked this week to evaluate the functionality of Green Dam. In “China’s Green Dam: The Implications of Government Control Encroaching on the Home PC,” we review the functional elements of this new software and explore the possible effects of its implementation on a national scale. We conclude that Green Dam is deeply flawed and poses critical security concerns for users.

Beyond Objectivity: Global Voices and the Future of Journalism

Yesterday afternoon I attended Lokman Tsui’s talk on Beyond Objectivity: Global Voices and the Future of Journalism at the Berkman Center, where I’m interning for the summer.

I met Lokman last July in Budapest for the 2008 Global Voices Summit, and in February I had the great fortune to spend a week with him and 10 other Global Voices team members in Miami for We Media.

Lokman’s writing his dissertation on how the Internet is driving institutional changes of journalism in a globalized world. His talk yesterday covered the research he’s been doing on Global Voices, a project that aggregates and translates blogs and other citizen media from around the world.

“We really cannot measure the new with standards we designed for the old.”

Lokman argued that we need a new conceptual toolkit to explain what Global Voices is doing. Instead of approaching Global Voices through the lens of professional, alternative or even public journalism (for a more thorough description of these types, see Corinna di Gennaro’s recap of the talk), Lokman proposes a fourth approach: evaluating Global Voices as a tool for communicative democracy, whose purpose is conversation and whose form is hospitality, rather than sheer objectivity.

“He is Ethan Zuckerman. I’m…Lokman.”

Hospitality is important, Lokman explained, because power differentials exist. No matter how far we’ve come in terms of shifting the power of the (exclusively printing) press into the hands of bloggers, the reality is that some people — or groups of people, or countries — have a distinct power advantage over others. But hospitality can subvert this power inequality and help ensure that inclusive discussion takes place.

Lokman used the example of visiting the home of Ethan Zuckerman, one of the founders of Global Voices. As a relative newcomer to the organization, Lokman admitted to feeling intimidated, but Ethan — as all good hosts do — switched up the power structure by treating Lokman as a guest and serving him.

Hospitality is also important because it negates the need for neutral third spaces — meeting Ethan in a coffee shop, for example — where differences between people are bracketed out and ignored. Furthermore, hospitality places important conditions on inclusion — if a guest behaves badly, the host has every right to throw him or her out. This solves the problem of “how tolerant is too tolerant” and allows discussion to remain productive.

I’ve been privileged to be a member of the Global Voices community for just over two years, and in that time I have been amazed by the hospitality that exists among its members. In addition to traveling to each other’s countries and staying at each other’s houses — a more traditional view of hospitality — GV-ers exhibit respect, understanding, and appreciation for differences every day on our authors’ listserve and in our writing, even when it comes to sensitive issues like gay rights and politics in Gaza.

Lokman admitted that the idea of hospitality as a barometer for journalism may be a little “kumbaya” for some people. Hospitality is easy among friends who have common goals and interests, but it’s more important — and more dangerous — among strangers. Lokman closed is talk by expressing the hope that, by emphasizing hospitality in journalism, we can raise the normative stakes.

I definitely fall into the warm fuzzy, kumbaya camp when it comes to Global Voices, as I am ceaselessly amazed by the work GV-ers do to amplify marginalized or otherwise buried voices for a global audience. After talking to several of my fellow Berkman interns today, though, I have a couple of questions:

  • What’s the next step?
    For this shift to take place, the way people — mainstream/traditional media practitioners, citizen journalists and media audiences — think of media needs to shift radically. Citizen journalists seem to be leading this shift, but I worry that not enough people are following. What can we do to nudge this process along?
  • How do we measure success?
    Ethan expressed concerns that Global Voices, despite its accomplishments, is not an unqualified success — it’s not widely read enough, for one thing, nor is it widely respected outside of a particular citizen-journalism-happy community. But how do we know when we’ve reached our goal? This question is tied pretty closely to the next:
  • What does it look like?
    Obviously, mainstream media is undergoing serious changes right now. But once things shake out, will a shift towards hospitality result in the New York Times incorporating more Global Voices-stye aggregation? Will Global Voices become so widely read that it ends up replacing more traditional online news sources?

I apologize if these questions are too basic (or if Lokman answered them, and I missed what he said), but I think they’re a decent starting place. If you have any thoughts, hit up the comments below.

If you missed the talk, you can watch or listen at Berkman Interactive.

Getting Lost in Boston (Alternative Title: Why I Need an iPhone)

I’m spending the summer in Cambridge, interning for the Berkman Center for Internet and Society. Today I went to the office for the first time, met the 30-something other interns and started putting faces with names.

That was all good, and I’m excited about starting more concrete projects with the OpenNet Initiative and the Internet & Democracy Project tomorrow.

But then I tried to walk home.

(Note: I am terrible with directions. Sometimes things work out, and I end up finding a metro station that can get me back home (see: St. Petersburg, New York). Other times, I end up fending off the persistent attentions of a motorcycle taxi driver named Edward.)

The walk from my apartment to Berkman is simple:


Apartment to Berkman: the easy way

But in the interest of exploring the area, I decided to hit up Porter Square (the closest metro stop) on the way home:


Berkman to apartment: exploring

I made it to Porter Square, but then I failed. Miserably:


#fail, or: How I got home

Conway Playground is when I finally stopped and called someone for directions.

Until now, I’ve been vehemently opposed to getting an iPhone: they’re pretty, yes, but something about the clunky, wifi-devoid simplicity of my basic Samsung (or, may it rest in peace, my beloved Nokia 3310) appeals to me: I’m not constantly tied to my e-mail, it’s not expensive to replace, and it does — or at least did, until today — everything I need it to do.

But now that I live in a city that’s not laid out in a beautifully designed grid (barring Broadway and everything below 14th Street), I’m reconsidering. Internet: I think I want an iPhone.


(Related: Ethan Zuckerman’s ode to the retro mobile phone, including the Nokia 1100 (which I use when I’m in Uganda) and its “integrated sewer avoidance system.”)