05 Aug 2007, ST
By Joe Queenan
IN THE audaciously predictable style for which he is famous, New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman recently rhapsodised about the many ways in which 'transparency' is making our 'global discussion...so much richer'.
The theory was that the 24/7 surveillance wrought by camera phones, blogs, YouTube, Facebook and MySpace has turned all of us into public figures.
Because everything we say or do is now apt to turn up on the Internet - potentially with humiliating results - we must live our lives more judiciously, cognisant that in the new 'transparent' age, there is nowhere to hide.
Not long ago, such a society would have been deemed an Orwellian nightmare, a living hell where the brain police spied on everyone.
But somehow, Friedman has gotten it into his head that although surveillance is a bad idea when the government does it, it is just peachy keen when done by amateurs.
Friedman's argument that 'the whole world is watching' - thereby compelling mankind to be on its best behaviour - ignores reality.
The Taleban is simply not concerned that some blogger hammering away at his laptop doesn't approve of its activities.
Hamas is not worried about having its latest depredations captured on mobile phone camera.
Friedman suggests that the 'digital footprint' young people leave on MySpace and Facebook means - and he doesn't seem to think this is necessarily bad - that it will be extremely difficult for them to recover from the mistakes of their youth.
Deceitful resumes, compromising photos, ill-advised confessions of sexual predilections could all come back to haunt them.
But this assumes that some future version of society actually will hold people accountable for their bozo-like past behaviour.
Get real. When the 35-year-old twit who once posted a video of himself mooning Dick Cheney applies for a job with the International Monetary Fund, the 36-year-old interviewing him for the position will be the guy who once blogged about imprisoning George Bush on the planet Alderaan and getting the Death Star to destroy the State Department.
That's not a digital footprint. It's a digital handshake.
The one seemingly valid point that Friedman makes is that transparency will force corporations to be on their best behaviour.
But even this is a flawed assumption. Camera phones and YouTube videos are useful when depicting pollution or botched surgical procedures.
But transparency doesn't work well in the bond market or the private equity field because finance is an abstraction and mobile phone cameras cannot capture the invisible. You cannot post a picture of a hyped stock. You cannot post a video of a rigged initial public offering.
You cannot depict felonious stock market activity on MySpace unless some white-collar crook agrees to be videotaped.
If 'the new transparency' actually could deter obnoxious or criminal behaviour, it might be worth getting the whole world watching.
Muggers, drug dealers, car thieves, axe murderers, hedge fund managers and Antonin Scalia are not afraid of the blogosphere. Especially Scalia.
The weapons of transparency might be good at embarrassing people, but this approach works only with people who worry about being embarrassed.
The Mafia doesn't.
Osama bin Laden doesn't.
The guy who's going to key your car tonight just because you stole his parking space doesn't.
And the woman who conceivably might confront you with your quasi-pornographic, falsehood-swollen online profile 10 years from now isn't going to because she's the gal who once posted a video of herself puking her guts all over her wedding cake.
In a society in which people have decided to immortalise their stupidity, being an idiot isn't going to hurt anyone's career.
The new 'transparency' is just like the old television: The whole world might be watching, but nobody seems to be paying much attention.
Los Angeles Times
Queenan writes frequently for Barron's, the New York Times Book Review and the Guardian.
By Joe Queenan
IN THE audaciously predictable style for which he is famous, New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman recently rhapsodised about the many ways in which 'transparency' is making our 'global discussion...so much richer'.
The theory was that the 24/7 surveillance wrought by camera phones, blogs, YouTube, Facebook and MySpace has turned all of us into public figures.
Because everything we say or do is now apt to turn up on the Internet - potentially with humiliating results - we must live our lives more judiciously, cognisant that in the new 'transparent' age, there is nowhere to hide.
Not long ago, such a society would have been deemed an Orwellian nightmare, a living hell where the brain police spied on everyone.
But somehow, Friedman has gotten it into his head that although surveillance is a bad idea when the government does it, it is just peachy keen when done by amateurs.
Friedman's argument that 'the whole world is watching' - thereby compelling mankind to be on its best behaviour - ignores reality.
The Taleban is simply not concerned that some blogger hammering away at his laptop doesn't approve of its activities.
Hamas is not worried about having its latest depredations captured on mobile phone camera.
Friedman suggests that the 'digital footprint' young people leave on MySpace and Facebook means - and he doesn't seem to think this is necessarily bad - that it will be extremely difficult for them to recover from the mistakes of their youth.
Deceitful resumes, compromising photos, ill-advised confessions of sexual predilections could all come back to haunt them.
But this assumes that some future version of society actually will hold people accountable for their bozo-like past behaviour.
Get real. When the 35-year-old twit who once posted a video of himself mooning Dick Cheney applies for a job with the International Monetary Fund, the 36-year-old interviewing him for the position will be the guy who once blogged about imprisoning George Bush on the planet Alderaan and getting the Death Star to destroy the State Department.
That's not a digital footprint. It's a digital handshake.
The one seemingly valid point that Friedman makes is that transparency will force corporations to be on their best behaviour.
But even this is a flawed assumption. Camera phones and YouTube videos are useful when depicting pollution or botched surgical procedures.
But transparency doesn't work well in the bond market or the private equity field because finance is an abstraction and mobile phone cameras cannot capture the invisible. You cannot post a picture of a hyped stock. You cannot post a video of a rigged initial public offering.
You cannot depict felonious stock market activity on MySpace unless some white-collar crook agrees to be videotaped.
If 'the new transparency' actually could deter obnoxious or criminal behaviour, it might be worth getting the whole world watching.
Muggers, drug dealers, car thieves, axe murderers, hedge fund managers and Antonin Scalia are not afraid of the blogosphere. Especially Scalia.
The weapons of transparency might be good at embarrassing people, but this approach works only with people who worry about being embarrassed.
The Mafia doesn't.
Osama bin Laden doesn't.
The guy who's going to key your car tonight just because you stole his parking space doesn't.
And the woman who conceivably might confront you with your quasi-pornographic, falsehood-swollen online profile 10 years from now isn't going to because she's the gal who once posted a video of herself puking her guts all over her wedding cake.
In a society in which people have decided to immortalise their stupidity, being an idiot isn't going to hurt anyone's career.
The new 'transparency' is just like the old television: The whole world might be watching, but nobody seems to be paying much attention.
Los Angeles Times
Queenan writes frequently for Barron's, the New York Times Book Review and the Guardian.
No comments:
Post a Comment