How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Learned to Love the Blog: The Endless Conversation
by Kara Swisher
Posted on January 4, 2008 at 5:24 AM PT
This is my third and last post about what my move from old to new media has taught me. In the first, I discussed its dynamism, in the second its amazing level of clarity.
And the third? Well, because it never stops. Ever.
Case in point, a somewhat frivolous story, which actually does have important broader implications for the Web, about the mini-tussle between blogger Robert Scoble and Facebook.
Right away, I backed up Scoble over the popular social network, after Facebook disabled his account over his violation of its policies. The voluble blogger used a software program to scrape data off his profile.
I did so mostly because I am a big proponent of data portability and find it offensive that sites like Facebook endlessly scrape everyone’s data. But then they are shocked when people want to control their own information and move into a hypocritical protective mode of data they typically abuse.
Others disagreed, like commenters on my post and the always sharp Nick Carr, who raised the notion that Scoble was a “data thief” for trying to move some data–name, contact info and birthdays–to another service.
Wrote Carr on his Rough Type blog: “Now, if you happen to be one of those ‘friends,’ would you think of your name, email address and birthday as being ‘Scoble’s data’ or as being ‘my data.’ If you’re smart, you’ll think of it as being ‘my data,’ and you’ll be very nervous about the ability of someone to easily suck it out of Facebook’s database and move it into another database without your knowledge or permission. After all, if someone has your name, email address and birthday, they pretty much have your identity–not just your online identity, but your real-world identity.”
Carr added that “members should have the right to decide whether or not their personal information can be scraped out of the Facebook database. Scoble did not give them that choice. … Until controls are in place, unauthorized scraping of other members’ personal information shouldn’t be allowed.”
To my mind, that’s a rather nanny-state stance for him to take, given that people put that data up there for their friends to presumably use. Scoble or anyone could have simply copied down that info and transferred it (everyone does this ALL the time) manually.
Scoble’s motives in doing this were obviously benign (aside from his eternal need for attention, which is also harmless). And, big surprise, there are a lot of bad actors out there who want the data for other more nefarious reasons.
But all that’s needed, I think, is to treat people like intelligent adults and make it perfectly clear to them that some may actually use the data you post publicly for friends you accept into your online circle. That way people can decide exactly how much information they want out there.
Of course, the teapot-tempest got all resolved after Scoble promised he would no longer be naughty–even though he compared himself in a deeply goofy manner to Gandhi and then the Boston Tea Party gang–and Facebook reinstated him.
But what I loved about the story and countless ones like it was the enormous range of opinions, Twitters, posts, comments and videos (from Scoble too, of course) that were generated. While some might call it piling on or even mindless, I think it represents an amazing sign of vibrancy and energy that is promising for journalism.
While print publications might be suffering, the information business is not. Although there are many more players–some better than others–in the landscape, the changes give professionals the chance to notch up their game by delivering more energetic, more informed content that is characterized by the high standards they carry with them from old media at its best.
Of course, new business models for online content are nascent and still questionable, but smart people with great offerings can always figure out a way to benefit from the obvious interest in consumers in being able to access all kinds of information, both trusted and also even silly.
Which is why I laughed out loud when I got a link to a new Facebook group being formed to “Keep Robert Scoble Off Facebook,” all with the blessing of Fake Steve Jobs.
He wrote: “Meanwhile we’re trying to figure out if we can banish Scoble from using Apple products or visiting Apple retail stores. From what I’m told others have picked up on the same idea. Google wants him off their apps. Twitter says he’s eating up too much bandwidth. Here’s a thought. Why not banish Robert Scoble from the Internet altogether? Is that even possible? Moshe says he’s looking into it.”
Namaste.
Comments
You have eloquently demonstrated that Facebook is the Roach Motel of Social Media
An interesting related point is that Google also prevents bots from scraping the data that they themselves have scraped from others. How long before the content providers wise up and charge scrapers like Google for the privilege of Hoovering their content?
I predict that the 11th commandment for Web 2.0 is “Always be the scraper, never the scrapee.”
Posted by Chris Keene at January 4th, 2008 at 11:03 amIn the digital world, one can indeed keep a ball rolling until it grows into a giant snowball. The question becomes: Who created it, and for what purpose?
In the digital world, people are making mountains out of molehills each and every day—on Digg, on YouTube and on countless blogs. The celebration of the irrelevant is upon us; and just as tv viewers must scroll through a dense forest of corporate-sponsored talking heads to find the occasional truth-telling journalist, so anyone looking for truth on the internet—on *any* subject—must take the trouble to find islands of responsible reporting floating in a sea of uninformed nonsense.
In retrospect, the best thing about print journalism may have been that not just anybody could write stories that would be read by untold thousands every day. Maybe you were a good journalist, or maybe not, but at least you had to know enough about journalism to get a job writing stories for a living.
In the digital world, any moron with a computer and an internet connection can become an instant expert. In fact, you don’t even need a computer. The local library, or an Apple Store, will also do just fine.
Nor do you need any professional credentials of any kind. One’s status on the worldwide web seems to be almost solely determined by how many eyeballs visit your site and read your stories.
As I write these words, this is starting to sound like a really scary scenario. Imagine a cross between Wikipedia and Frankenstein. Imagine a world where what is true is solely determined by what the majority believe to be true.
Which makes it all the more important that real journalists (with real opinions and real integrity) make their voices heard in the digital world. Keep up the good work!
Posted by Alan Sanders at January 4th, 2008 at 1:05 pm… are you people kidding?
Posted by Steve Ballmer at August 4th, 2008 at 5:49 am