The California Ideology

(this was originally published as Implausipod Episode 39 on December 7th, 2024)

What do you think of when you heard the word California?  What do you think it’s “ideology” might be?  If you work in or on high technology, that California ideology may be shaping the way that you work, the projects that you work on, and the business models that high technology pursues. 

What does it all mean?  The thinking that is driving the pursuit of certain developments in technology, such as robotics and artificial intelligence, and the rise of accelerationism need to be understood by looking at the underlying philosophies.  Join us as we dig deep to find out what’s going on.


Let’s start with a question. What do you think of when you hear the word California? What’s the picture that comes into your head? If you had to hazard a guess, what would something called the California Ideology be? Take a moment and walk in your answer. We’re going to have a look during this episode of The ImplausiPod.

Welcome to The ImplausiPod, a podcast about the intersection of art, technology, and popular culture. I’m your host, Dr. Implausible. And what is the California Ideology? Let’s see. Well, if you pictured a mix of hippies and high tech, of new wave and new money, you’d be pretty close. But the California ideology is something that didn’t start in the 2020s or even the 2000s.

We have to go back even earlier. It’s something that came about in the 60s and 70s, that mix of new mysticism and new technology that was coming through, funded in part by a whole lot of U. S. Cold War defense spending. Writing in 2001, Mark Tribe described it as, quote, a deadly cocktail of naïve optimism, techno utopianism, and new libertarian politics popularized by Wired magazine, end quote.

And from the tone you can sense that there was a point of criticism there. Because the Californian ideology was being defined by European academics, media theorists, and thinkers, who might not have had a technological edge, but definitely had the upper hand when it came to theory. Mark Tribe wrote that definition in 2001, in the introduction to a book by one of those European thinkers, Russian émigré artist and media theorist Lev Manovich.

A few years earlier, in the mid 90s, Manovich had published a piece on Mark Tribe’s Rhizome mailing list, This is back before blogs were even a thing. We might call it a web ring or a web forum now. In that piece, called On Totalitarian Interactivity, which, in 2024, reads like it was written by a time traveler, in the way it absolutely nails our current situation, Manovich compared the two opposing schools of new media philosophy, the Eastern and the Western, and he was Critical of both, having seen both of them first hand.

For Manovich, the belief in the power and potential of a new technology is drawn from the experiences of the user, to which we wholeheartedly agree. Those beliefs are going to shape a lot of the way things try and get used, which we’ve talked about a lot before here. But those beliefs are also going to shape the types of things that try to be made.

The technologies that engineers will try and work on, that companies will try and bring to market, that governments will try and fund research in, and that users will eventually adopt. Or not. And this is why it all boils back down to ideology. As Manovich said, quote, Western media artists usually take technology absolutely seriously and despair when it does not work, end quote.

And the solution for the Western artists is often more technology. Manovich goes on further and states, quote, A Western artist sees the internet as a perfect tool to break down all hierarchies and bring the art to the people. Parentheses, while in reality more often than not using it as a super media to promote his or her name, end parenthesis, end quote.

And in 1996, if someone was going to try and describe influencer culture on social media, I think he kind of nailed it. Like I said, time traveler. But both these quotes kind of hint at what the California ideology is. Manovich would go on further to write a book in 2001 called The Language of New Media, which went much more in depth on some of the topics we’re discussing here, and we’ll return to that at a later point in time.

To really understand the Californian ideology, we need to look at where it originally came from. And the best place to do that is to look at the paper that originally identified it. A 1995 essay by Richard Barbrook and Andy Cameron. And buckle up, this one might take a bit.

The Californian Ideology was originally published by the authors in 1995 in a British magazine titled Mute. It was a mix of online and print versions, so I can’t tell exactly which format the original came out in, and there’s been a couple different versions that have been published since. It’s still accessible online, so I’ll put the link in the notes.

You can go to the metamute. org website if you want to see their archives as well. The essay is typical of a lot of those mid 90s works on the internet, as everything’s starting to come on board, and people are really just feeling their way around it and trying to figure it out. Here, the authors describe the internet as hypermedia.

Drawing on very McLuhan esque terminology in order to situate it, but we can see where they’re going with it, and looking back with nearly 30 years of hindsight, it’s clear what they’re talking about. There’s very much a leftist, anti-capitalist view to much of their work, and we can see that in some of the terminology they use, even in the opening paragraph.

Quote Once again, capitalism’s relentless drive to diversify and intensify the creative powers of human labor is on the verge of qualitatively transforming the way in which we work, Play and live together. By integrating different technologies around common protocols, something is being created which is more than the sum of its parts.

When the ability to produce and receive unlimited amounts of information in any form is combined with the reach of the global telephone networks, Existing forms of work and leisure can be fundamentally transformed. End quote. 

And they go on further to say that anyone who can offer a simple explanation of what’s going on will be listened to, and this has come about through a quote, “Loose alliance of writers, hackers, capitalists, and artists from the west coast of the USA”.

And what those people have come up with is the Californian ideology, which is quote, A heterogeneous orthodoxy for the coming information age. The Californian ideology is this blend of hippies and high tech. It’s, as they say, an amalgamation of opposites, combining a freewheeling spirit and an entrepreneurial zeal where everyone will be both hip and rich.

And because it’s optimistic and positive and allows space for everybody, kind of like Clay Shirky said, it allows computer nerds, slackers, capitalists, social activists, academics, futuristic bureaucrats, and opportunistic politicians to say the least. To buy in, to get traction, to be seen as forward thinking if they hop on the early wave of this new technology.

And Barbrook and Cameron characterize this as an extropian cult, one that also sees buy in from various European artists and academics as well. In order to really understand the Californian ideology, Barbrook and Cameron go deep into the rise of the virtual class. who are, according to Arthur Croker and Michael Weinstein in their book Data Trash, the techno intelligentsia of cognitive scientists, engineers, computer scientists, video game developers, and all the other communications specialists.

This echoes a lot of what Daniel Bell was talking about in 1973 in The Coming of the Post-Industrial Society, and here, 20 years later, they’re starting to actually see it become reality. And we can see the roots in what all of these authors were talking about and what rose to become the gig economy. As they were discussing this already happening to the virtual class in the 1990s.

It’s important to remember that the gig economy did not first come for the taxi drivers, it came for the tech workers, and then they thought it was good enough for everybody else. But this is in part because the digital class, the virtual class, was incredibly myopic. They were a very privileged part of the labor force, and the benefits that they incurred did not necessarily apply to the population at large.

Barbrook and Cameron note that “the Californian ideology therefore simultaneously reflects the disciplines of market economics and the freedoms of hippie artisanship. This bizarre hybrid is only made possible through a nearly universal belief in technological determinism.” End quote. And this new technology allowed for the possibilities of the social liberalism that the hippies were looking for.

Along with the economic liberalism, or the libertarianism, really, that the new right was looking for. And what both of them were looking for, in a way to legitimize what they were talking about, is a link back to the founding fathers of the United States democracy. Quoting from Barbrook and Cameron again, “Above all, they are passionate advocates of what appears to be an impeccably libertarian form of politics.

They want information technologies to be used to create a new Jeffersonian democracy. Where all individuals would be able to express themselves freely within cyberspace.” And while that sounds like a great idea, looking back to the roots of American democracy, that’s not without its problems. Because Jeffersonian democracy, that popularized by the American founding father Thomas Jefferson, had very particular ideas of who counted when it came to that democracy.

Quote, their utopian vision of California depends on a willful blindness towards the other, much less positive, features of life on the west coast. Racism, poverty, and environmental degradation. End quote. 

What the authors are saying is that there’s a deep history of exploitation that goes hand in hand with the development of that ideology. And that in order to bring it about, you have to hide or ignore some of the realities of that history. 

At the core of the Californian ideology, there’s a lot of ambiguity as it’s bridging that gap between the left and the right, but the best way to understand it is probably to realize that it’s trying to have its cake and eat it too. It’s a hybrid faith that’s trying to cater to both the new left and the new right at the same time, and realize the utopian visions of both.

And regardless of whether it’s drawn from the left or the right, the Californian ideology is a capitalist ideology. As I said earlier, this was written in the mid 90s in the early days when people were figuring out what the internet would become, but for Barbrook and Cameron, they note that hypermedia, what they call the internet, would be a key component of the next stage of capitalism.

On the new left, the authors see the proponents of the virtual community with people like Howard Rheingold, where the internet could allow for the rise of a high tech gift economy based on the voluntary exchange of information and ideas and knowledge. On the new right, they note how there’s an embracer of the Laissez faire ideology, where tech culture publications like Wired would just uncritically reproduce works by Newt Gingrich, for example, buying into McLuhan esque technological determinism and thinking that the electronic telecommunications will give rise to an electronic marketplace.

For the authors writing in 1995, they weren’t sure what this would lead to. Quote, What is unknown is the social and cultural impact of allowing people to produce and exchange almost unlimited quantities of information on a global scale. End quote. And looking at the state of the internet 30 years later, we see the merger of both of those ideas of an electronic marketplace and a virtual community with the free exchange of ideas.

But that often can be deeply contested and there’s a lot of friction involved. The California ideology promises that each member of the virtual class can become a successful high tech entrepreneur, much like the way that many Americans consider themselves temporarily embarrassed millionaires, and that these people are quote, “Resourceful entrepreneurs who are the only people cool and courageous enough to take risks.”

The Californian ideology proposes a world where, quote, “visionary engineers are inventing the tools needed to create a free market within cyberspace, such as encryption, digital money, and verification procedures,” end quote. And if this sounds like it was ripped out of the pitch deck for any recently proposed crypto venture of the last five years, then I want to remind you, again, this is 1995 written by people that were critical of what was happening.

One of the things Barbrook and Cameron note about the Californian ideology is how much it ignores its own history of the government funding that went into the development of the technology, especially on the West Coast, and the rise of the mixed economy there. Much of this is covered by researcher Teng-Hui Hu in their book, A Prehistory of the Cloud, published in 2016, where they note how much of the infrastructure of the internet mirrors the physical surroundings, especially on the West Coast.

And my own take is that these particular visions of cyberspace were removed from the physical realm where it was thought that everything was formless and weightless and that anybody could be anything. We see the creation tales from many elder myths made manifest once again in the mythic visions of cyberspace and the new cyber religion, so it follows.

We talked about these mythic visions back in episode 26 titled Silicon Dreams, so I encourage you to go check that one out if you’d like. What those mythic visions were really good at was inspiring the DIY culture that really developed some of the innovative ideas that were extent within the burgeoning computer scene.

And while this includes technological developments, like the early personal computers that were developed in garages across California, it also includes social elements, like new agers, surfing, skateboarding, LGBTQ, liberation, health food, yoga, pop music, and a whole bunch of else besides. The fact you didn’t necessarily need to be a tech innovator helped get buy in from a lot more groups with respect to the California ideology, and the tech was definitely helped a whole lot by government spending.

And the contribution by all these groups, the community, the DIYers, the popular culture, and the government at large, is something that often gets ignored by the entrepreneurs and other supposed tech visionaries. As their authors state, all technological progress is cumulative. It depends on the results of a collective historical process and must be counted At least in part as a collective achievement.

But this idea of collective achievement goes against much of their narrative. But that narrative draws on many sources of inspiration, and given that we’re dealing with high technology, at least one of those is science fiction. Now, sci fi, whether it’s cyberpunk or otherwise, often has a very libertarian ethos.

The authors note how the utopian visions of the future on the right side of Californian ideology often echoed the predictions of Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, and other sci fi writers, quote, whose future worlds were always filled with space traders, super slick salesmen, genius scientists, Pirate captains and other rugged individualists, end quote.

This is the trail that led back to the Jeffersonian democracy and the Founding Fathers. In the 80s and 90s, that same character would show up, a hacker, a quote, lone individual fighting for survival within the virtual world of information. End quote. And this is where the California of that present connected with the California of the past, the ideology of the gold rush, of the self sufficient individual living out on the frontier.

It never really went away, it just became part and parcel of the underlying ideology of cyberspace, of the internet, of high technology, of California. And that ideology is what tech calls thinking.

What Tech Calls Thinking is a book published in 2020 by Adrian Daub, a professor of comparative literature at Stanford. And what he shows us is that despite being 25 years later, we’re still seeing a lot of the same old thinkers show up. Even though Silicon Valley itself has gone through some major changes since 1995, as the only players of note from back then are Microsoft and Apple, as Google was just in its infancy, and Amazon, Facebook, and the rest of social media didn’t exist at all, and the owners of some of those companies are now famous enough to be recognizable by only their last name.

We can call it the Madonna Zone, or Maybe even the Cher Zone, though these guys aren’t about sharing. They have names like Bezos, and Musk, and Zuckerberg, and I guess we could add Altman to that list now, too. In Altman’s recent essay, The Intelligence Age, he outlines some of the philosophy driving his quest towards AGI.

But, regardless of the name or the company that they founded or own, not always the same thing, we need to point that out, these tech oligarchs express a strikingly similar ideology. We covered a little bit of that almost a year ago when we looked at the Tecto Optimist Manifesto published by Mark Anderson, formerly of Netscape, but Dow covers it sufficiently well.

In each of the seven chapters of the book, Daub covers one of the ideas that’s central to the philosophy behind Silicon Valley, usually characterized by a single author, perhaps two. These writers and philosophers include some familiar names like Marshall McLuhan, Ayn Rand, Aldous Huxley, Jacques Girard, Joseph Schumpeter, Cass Phillips.

And if we’ve heard a bunch of those names already, it’s not by accident. Like I said, there’s a lot of consilience and overlap. In the course of my own studies in grad school, I covered a few of these names in depth, though I’ll admit not all, but what I see here overlaps a lot of what I’ve studied elsewhere.

The overarching aim of Daub’s work is to get behind the media’s focus on the tech industry’s thought leaders, the public intellectuals that get written up so often in media pieces, and trace the ideas and where they’ve come from. And the key point of inception for Daub is Stanford. This is the inflection point, or quilting point, where everything comes together.

This makes some sense for Daub. It was where he was located and viewing his surroundings. And there are other universities involved as well. When one thinks of big tech schools, MIT surely comes to mind, too, but for a Californian perspective, we need to look at Stanford. And the university is important, because a lot of tech’s ideas are quote, university adjacent, or quote, academic.

Big Tech seeks the legitimation of their ideas via the proximity to higher learning, as the people involved have often dropped out or not completed their education. Dropping out is the focus of Chapter One, as it allows founders to buy into the pre existing narrative, one that’s pre packaged and ready for them, and makes for easier work for the journalists covering the field.

There’s a visibility of being associated with the college, but only briefly. Don’t overstay your welcome if you want to be treated as a visionary. As Daub points out, What this means is that the education of these founders is often incomplete, missing the context that would come with more advanced study and absent from a general studies survey course.

Usually, I’ll admit to having been blessed with a couple great profs back in the day myself, but dropping out allows one to fit the role of a maverick, able to reject elite institutions and not constrained by conventional thinking. to really allow one to engage in the creative destruction that comes from disrupting the market.

And that Schumpeterian creative destruction features heavily, comprising much of Chapter 6. Joseph Schumpeter was an Austrian economist who worked at Harvard starting in the 1930s, and he coined the term as part of his observations of the nature of the business cycle. Much of what he was talking about was the instability of capitalism and the inevitability of socialism, but this was done through the lens of the role of the entrepreneur in the process of innovation.

a bringing something new to market. Quote, The fundamental impulse that sets and keeps the capitalist engine in motion comes from new consumer goods, the new methods of production or transportation, the new markets, the new forms of industrial organization that capitalist enterprise creates. This is from Schumpeter, which Daub quotes at length in his work.

This shaking up is what keeps it afloat. If it wasn’t for the shakeup, the instability in the system would get too much, and it all falls apart. As Daub notes, quote, The concept of creative destruction sublimates the concept of revolution. End quote. Things continually get disrupted, and the only constant seems to be change.

Of course, the title of chapter six is disruption, that underlying ethos that impels so much change within Silicon Valley. Disruption is one of those totalizing terms that gets leveraged by Silicon Valley to suggest that this is the only way that change or innovation can happen. As Daub notes, quote, Disruption plays to our impatience with structures and situations that seem to coast on habit and inertia, and it plays to the press’s excitement about underdogs, rebels, and outsiders.

It’s that personal narrative that we talked about a few minutes ago that allows these multi billionaire founders to consider themselves still the plucky underdog from their favorite movies when they were young. And it allows them to deal with the cognitive dissonance of realizing that perhaps they’re on the other side.

Because once you’ve got a couple billion dollars behind you, you are the establishment, no matter how you might frame yourself. Narratives about disruption are ultimately narratives about change, but only in a certain constrained direction. As Daub notes, disruption is newness for people who are scared of genuine newness, revolution for people who don’t stand to gain anything from revolution.

And that idea that Silicon Valley is introducing something that’s genuinely new really needs to be looked at with a hard, critical eye. Daub notes, one ought to be skeptical of unsubstantiated claims of something being totally new and not following the hitherto unestablished rules of business, of politics, of common sense.

The amount of stuff that’s actually new or a radical innovation is incredibly tiny. For an example, one needs to look no further than a single episode of the show Connections, hosted by the British historian of science and technology, James Burke, where he traces the multiple contingencies and coincidences that have led through the path of history to our modern inventions and technologies.

And if we apply this kind of historiographic analysis through a critical To nearly anything that’s claimed to be disruptive, we can see the path through history that led up to that point. Genuine newness is very, very rare. And even the claims that the tech industry has, there’s dog quotes that they’re making fundamental transformations of how capitalism functions, can be looked at with a skeptical eye.

Because as Schumpeter was writing 100 years ago, and Marx decades before that, That’s just how capitalisms always work. Disruption is just faster and more far reaching, and as we suggested, it’s totalizing. As Daub quotes, Disruption seems to suggest that the rapids are all there is and can be. And we’ve talked about those rapids before, back in episode 27, The Old Man and the River, back in February.

But the speed is the thing. Quote, Disruption seems to lean in the direction of more capitalism, end quote. And this is not by accident. The disruptions want to go faster, and that theory of move fast and break things has a historical antecedent nearly a hundred years ago. That theory is accelerationism, and we need to talk about it.

Accelerationism is an ideology or set of philosophies that crosses between party lines. It kind of exists on both the left and the right, and what it calls for is the radical acceleration of everything that’s going on. An intensification of the capitalization of everything in order to get to some perceived next level of human growth or achievement.

There’s this idea that we’re not going fast enough, that the checks and balances that we put on society are holding us back from reaching that. And if we just go faster, harder, we’ll have enough technology or AI or whatever that’ll help solve those problems. And we can deal with it in whatever imagined future state where we have the technology.

And it should be noted that there’s left wing groups that believe in this accelerationism as well, who believe if you allow capitalism to put the pedal to the metal, it’ll be It’ll eventually go off the rails and then you can rebuild out of the ashes of whatever’s left. You know, once we get through that cool Mad Max stage and actually get around to rebuilding society.

But as you can tell from my tone, it’s an incredibly bad idea. First off is there’s this assumption that whoever is pushing the pedal to the metal that As their hand on the throttle will be there at the end to reap the rewards, once we get there. You know, that they’ll be among the survivors. And two, is that an incredibly large number of people will get hurt in the process of going faster and harder.

It’s just incredibly irresponsible, and there’s no guarantee that we get there either. It’s an assumption that they make that, hey, if we strap a rocket to our back like Wile E. Coyote, we’ll get to where we’re going faster. But it’s not necessarily borne out. It’s all in theory. We talked about it on one of our episodes of the podcast about a year ago, episode 17, called Not a Techno Optimist.

So, my apologies for recovering some old ground, but it’s worth mentioning again. Go check it out in the archives if you’d like. There’s more to talk about when it comes to accelerationism, but we’re going to have to get into that in a few episodes from now. The main thing is this idea of being a disruptor.

It isn’t a thing of science fiction, which inspires so much of Silicon Valley. It’s Fantasy. Daub also talks about the continued role of Ayn Rand and her influence on the libertarian elements that are so prevalent in technology. I think the best quote summarizing Ayn Rand can be attributed to John Rogers.

Quote, there are two novels that can transform a bookish 14 year kid’s life. The Lord of the Rings and Atlas Shrugged. One is a childish daydream that can lead to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood, in which large chunks of the day are spent inventing ways to make real life more like a fantasy novel.

The other is a book about orcs. End quote. Of course, Maybe not skipping that English lit class in the college you dropped out of would help give a little context for understanding Rand. However, we’re not here to chase that particular rabbit. The big takeaway from Dobb’s work is a look at the tech industry’s philosophical roots and its focus on money.

As he notes, The tech industry we know today is what happens when certain received notions meet with a massive amount of cash with nowhere else to go. End quote. Absent an idea of what to do with all that money, tech looked around for legitimation. And, as Daub notes, quote, the ideas that tech call thinking were developed and refined in the making of money, end quote.

This is accomplished via a blend of state intervention and capitalist entrepreneurship that leverages DIY culture, relying on it for essential contributions by innovators and early adopters, to be sure. And much of tech has resulted in the development of, quote, mass markets for private companies to sell existing information commodities, end quote, things like films and music and television.

Stuff that we would normally call art has been transformed by the shift from representation to manipulation that occurs within the digital realm, according to Manovich. Further, he notes that Western artists appear to break down hierarchies as part of the process of building a personal brand for themselves, and coming out of the influencer decade of the 20 teens where catchphrases like the brand is you get tossed around, this seems self evident.

It’s a commodification of the self. But we’ll have to wait for a later date to do a deeper dive into this process of becoming which drives influencer culture. We’ll let you know when that episode is ready to go. 

By contrast, for Manovich, the Eastern artists, quote, recognize that the nature of technology is that it does not work, it will always break down. It will never work as it is supposed to. 

For the outside observer, we can see how this makes sense, where the failures of one technology provide the opportunity for the sale of another technology to solve the problems of the first one. And one thing tech likes is another sale, because tech is ultimately a capitalist enterprise.

And it is this focus on capitalism which underlies the Californian ideology as a whole. The connection point between Daub and the work 25 years previous is that those ideas never went away. The tech industry in 2020 is pretty much still the same industry it was that Barbrook and Cameron identified back then.

Witness that quote about the crypto pitch deck we made earlier. The big difference is that there is more of it, the increased focus on the money. We’re just later along in the late stage capitalism. We’re not so far along that we’ve reached the sci fi aspirations driving some of them forward, as mentioned earlier, but those aspirations exist in both works too.

Barbrook and Cameron note that there is a drive for the emergence of the post human that we can see in N. Katherine Hayle’s work, as well as various cyberpunk authors such as William Gibson and others. Post humanism is, after all, a quote, biotechnological manifestation of the social privileges of the virtual class, end quote.

This is why there is such a strong connection to the accelerationists mentioned earlier. The remaining virtual class are aging and looking to live longer. There is a fear of death motivating much of the virtual class, characterizing them as extropian, that sect of transhumanists seeking to extend their lifespans to the extent that they may one day live indefinitely.

They seek to advance technology faster, as that dark specter inexorably catches up with them. The third point in common between what Tech calls thinking and the Californian ideology, two works separated by 25 years, a continent, and an ocean, is the critique of the underlying ideology of the virtual class itself.

There’s other names for it floating around, of course, calling them Tech Bros, or TESCREAL, or whatever, but like Manovich pointed out earlier, it’s all of the same thread of Western critiques of Tech. And seeing as we mentioned Lev Manovich, let’s return to a bit of what he had to say on totalitarian interactivity.

There, from his position as a quote, post communist subject, he saw the internet as a communal apartment of the Stalin era where everybody spies on everybody else, or as a giant garbage site for the information society, with everybody dumping their used products of intellectual labor and nobody cleaning up.

As in the moment, we are witness to a mass migration from Twitter to BlueSky, with some people deleting their posts and accounts, and others not, just fleeing, as statements ring poignantly true. We are witnessing the migration of much of the virtual class in real time, as platforms shift and become unstable, and new platforms are found.

There’s a degree of insulation that comes with this, as if moving platforms is somehow enough of an action to take. There’s a blending of beliefs going on here. As Barbrook and Cameron note, quote, Many members of the virtual class want to be seduced by the libertarian rhetoric and technological enthusiasm of the new right, end quote, a term that describes the newt gingrich era republicans in the U. S. in the mid 1990s. 

That belief and enthusiasm affords them the opportunities to continue living much as they had previously. Not all internet users are so lucky. There are clear divides. Redlining by telephoning companies creates a very real gap in accessibility to the information superhighway. 

As this was written around the same time as the U. S. Department of Commerce was warning of the digital divide in 1995, which would soon be picked up and championed as a term elsewhere by those advocating for more widespread internet adoption. We can see why. 

The scholar Teng-hui Hu traces this very real phenomenon of the physical geography’s effect in shaping the rather ephemeral nature of cyberspace in their book, A Prehistory of the Cloud, 2015.

For those members outside the virtual class, the prospects are much more bleak. Quoting from Barbrook and Cameron, The deprived only participate in the information age by providing cheap, non unionized labor for the unhealthy factories of the Silicon Valley chip factories. End quote. Fifteen years later, this could still describe Foxconn making iPhones for Apple, or the warehouses at Amazon, or drivers for Uber.

The trend toward the gigged economy had a long arc that started well before the smartphone era. The digital artisans were, quote, living within a contract culture and, quote, gigged long before others, well paid in a manner that decentralized collective action. To quote the authors again, Although they enjoy cultural freedoms won by the hippies, most of them, that is the virtual class, are no longer actively involved in the struggle to build ecotopia.

End quote. The true believers of the new left involved in the building of cyberculture took their stock options and left the suburbs behind. This cybernetic libertarianism was very much in the whatever I’ve got mine mindset, never imagined that one day those cyber leopards might eat their faces. And this follows from the ideals of the Jeffersonian democracy that drives the Californian ideology.

In a section titled, Cyborg Masters and Robot Slaves, Barbrook and Cameron note that the fear of the rebellious underclass has now corrupted the most fundamental tenet of the Californian ideology, its belief in the emancipatory potential of the new information technologies. However, as they note, those technologies of freedom are turning into machines of dominance.

The crux of the Californian ideology is in Barbrook and Cameron’s description of the racial divide in California. “If human slaves are ultimately unreliable, then mechanical ones will have to be invented. The search for the holy grail of artificial intelligence reveals this desire for the golem. A strong and loyal slave whose skin is the color of earth and whose innards are made of sand.”

As we discussed back in episode 17, there is a utopian vision here, and Barbrook and Cameron note how these techno utopians, quote, imagine that it is possible to obtain slave like labor from inanimate machines. However, slave labor cannot be obtained without somebody being enslaved, end quote. And this can be seen in very recent history, too.

Anyone wondering about the results of the voting for Proposition 6 in California during the recent national election in the United States on November 2024, for any future listeners, will find their answer here. 

Proposition 6 was a proposed amendment to California’s constitution that would bar slavery in any form and repeal involuntary servitude as punishment for a crime.

In it, Californians voted 53. 3 percent against. 

The Californian ideology has a dark history, one that still has a hand in shaping the future.

Thank you for joining us for this episode of the Implausipod. I’m your host Dr. Implausible. Join us for the next few episodes as we continue our journey into exploring what the Californian ideology has left us. As we look into those Californian roads and car culture. And then what that utopic vision of the world would look like as we delve into the world model that we hinted at when we talked about Sam Altman’s intelligence age essay.

I hope we can explore these before the end of 2024 and then we’ll see what 2025 has in store. 

You can reach me at drimplausible at implausipod. com, and you can also find the show archives and transcripts of all our previous shows at implausipod. com as well. I’m responsible for all elements of the show, including research, writing, mixing, mastering, and music, and the show is licensed under Creative Commons 4. 0 share alike license. 

You may have also noted that there was no advertising during the program, and there’s no cost associated with the show. But it does grow from word of mouth of the community, so if you enjoy the show, please share it with a friend or two, and pass it along. There’s also a Buy Me A Coffee link on each show at implausipod dot com, which will go to any hosting costs associated with the show. 

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Until next time, take care, and have fun.



Bibliography

Altman, S. (2024, September 23). The Intelligence Age. https://ia.samaltman.com/

Barbrook, R., & Cameron, A. (1995). The Californian Ideology. Mute, 1(3). http://www.imaginaryfutures.net/2007/04/17/the-californian-ideology-2/

Bell, D. (1973). The coming of post-industrial society: A venture in social forecasting. Basic Books.

Daub, A. (2020). What Tech Calls Thinking: An Inquiry into the Intellectual Bedrock of Silicon Valley. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Hayles, N. K. (1999). How We Became Posthuman: Virtual Bodies in Cybernetics, Literature, and Informatics (1 edition). University Of Chicago Press.

Hu, T.-H. (2016). A Prehistory of the Cloud (Illustrated edition). The MIT Press.

Manovich, L. (1996). On Totalitarian Interactivity. https://www.manovich.net

McLuhan, M. (1964). Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. The New American Library.

Schumpeter, J. A. (1962). Capitalism, socialism and democracy (First Harper Torchbook ed). Harper & Row.

Tribe, M. (2001) “Introduction” in Manovich, L. (2001). The language of new media. MIT Press.

Implausipod E0013 – Context Collapse

Tiktok has a noise problem, and it’s indicative of a larger issue ongoing within social media, that of “context collapse”. But even context collapse is expanding outside its original context and evidence of it can be seen in the rise of generative AI tools, music and media, and the rise of the “Everything App”. Starting with a baseline in information theory and anthropology, we’ll outline some of the implications of noise and context collapse in this episode of the Implausipod.

https://www.implausipod.com/1935232/13516713-implausipod-e0013-context-collapse

Transcript:

 TikTok has a noise problem, and it may be due to a context collapse, something that’s been plaguing music, social media, and it’s even showing up in our new AI tools. And if you don’t know what that is, you’ll find out soon enough. We’ll explain it here tonight on episode 13 of the Implausipod.

Welcome to the ImplausiPod, a podcast about the intersection of art, technology, and popular culture. I’m your host, Dr. Implausible. Now, when it comes to the issue of noise and context collapse, there’s a little bit more going on, of course. The problem for TikTok is that it started out with a pretty tasty signal, one that kind of really encouraged people to stick around.  But as that signal amps up and it gets more and more noise in the system, it gets a little chunkier and crustier and maybe not as finely tuned as you’d like. Now, for some people that noise isn’t a problem, but for a lot of people it can be. And the reason it’s a problem for TikTok is that the noise can be actively discouraging from using the app.  It can make it Unfun, and this is what I’ve been noticing lately. So let’s get into how context collapse is impacting life online.

When TikTok rose to prominence throughout the pandemic, it was a very tasty experience for a lot of people. I mean, if you had negative interactions there, there was probably reasons for it, but there was also ways to mitigate it.  You could block people, you had a lot of control, and generally the algorithm would be feeding you content that you wanted to see. Or even if you know, you didn’t know you wanted to see it, you know that the joke goes. To that end, it was pretty good at sussing out what people found engaging. So TikTok had a very high signal to noise ratio.  Yeah, there was some noise there, but that was because it was feeding stuff that it wasn’t quite sure that you liked. But once it kind of honed in on what your preferences were, it was really good system for delivering content to users.

Over time though, as more and more content goes out and more and more people start participating, the amount of tasty content, the amount of good content, the amount of interesting and novel content drops off.  So you see less and are aware of pieces of information that everybody is seeing less, and less stuff – even within your niche from people that you’re following – gets shown to you. So this is all noise in the system. It’s the amount of stuff that you don’t want to see increasing.

Now we’re talking about signal to noise, and as we’re talking about a very old theory here, we’re talking about Claude Shannon’s Mathematical Theory of Communication.  Now, it was “A mathematical theory of communication” when it was published in 1948 as a paper, and then it was reworked as a book with Warren Weaver in 1949, where it was The Mathematical Theory of Communication as they realized that the theory was more generalizable, and this theory undergirds the entirety of the internet and most of our modern telecommunication systems, and it’s just a way of dealing with the noise in a system and ensuring the signal gets sent as it was sent from the transmitter to the receiver. And you can talk about it in terms of human communication or machine to machine communication. Device to device. Point to point, and this is why it’s generalizable.  It can be pretty much black boxed, and you can see this in how it gets used in multiple contexts. The point of the theory is that there’s a certain throughput that you need where the amount of information is greater than the noise to ensure that the signal is “understood”. And then there can be systems that are used to error check or correct or whatever, what’s on the receiving end to ensure that you know what was transmitted comes through as an intended, and that’s the gist of it.

Now for something like TikTok as the signal, you know, the signal is the content that’s supposed to be delivered to the end user, and the noise is anything that isn’t part of that. It’s the stuff they’re not necessarily looking for or asking for. And as TikTok has branched out and provided more types of content, starting with the 15 second videos and then 60 seconds, three minutes, 10 minutes, live stream, stories, whatever, you get more types of content in there.  Not all of it’s gonna be relevant to all users. If somebody’s watching for some quick videos, even a 60-second or three minute video is definitely not gonna be what they want to see. So we have a variety of content in there and that increases the noise, the amount of stuff you don’t want to see in a given block of time.

Now, couple that with the other types of content that get filtered in. It can include ad sponsored posts or posts that are just generally low value. This can include things like, oh, so-and-so changed their name, so-and-so signed on, or what we’ve seen recently is the retro posts like on this day in 2021 or 2022 or whatever, where people will revisit old posts, and a lot of times there’s nothing special about those unless you haven’t seen it before. It’s just whatever’s that person was talking about a year ago. So that feeds into the pipeline with all the current content that’s also trying to get out to the user base as the user base is increasing. So we have this additional content that’s coming through the pipeline, increasing the signal, but there’s also more stuff, more stuff that you don’t want to see.

It’s noisy,

and that noise, as we stated earlier, makes it unfun. It’s like it directly interferes with the stickiness of the app, the ability for it to engage the audience and have them participate in what the actions that are going online. And as that’s directly part of what Tiktok’s business model is: capture an audience and keep them around, then that can be a problem for them.

But it also brings us into that idea of the collapse of context. Now context collapse is something that was theorized about by a number of media scholars in the early 2000s, including danah boyd and Michael Wesch, and a few others. In its most simplest form, it’s what happens when media that’s designed for one audience or a single audience gets shared to multiple audiences, sometimes unintended. For early social media, and in this case, that means like MySpace and Facebook and Twitter, media that was shared for a particular group – often a friend group – could go far beyond the initial context. And while those websites or apps, along with blogs and web forums were co-constitutive of the public sphere, as we talked about a few episodes ago, along with the traditional media. Context really didn’t start smooshing together until Web 2.0 started shifting to video with the advent of YouTube and the other streaming sites, and that’s the technical term, smooshing. You can update your lexicons accordingly.

But the best way to describe context collapse was captured by cultural anthropologist Michael Wesch in a 2009 issue of Explorations in Media Ecology. He describes it and the problem as follows, quote:

“The problem is not lack of context. It’s context collapse, an infinite number of contexts collapsing upon one another into that single moment of recording.  The images, actions, and words captured by the lens at any moment can be transported to anywhere on the planet and preserved the performer must assume for all time. The little glass lens becomes the gateway to a black hole sucking all of time and space, virtually all possible contexts in on itself.” End quote.

So he is talking then about the relatively new phenomenon of YouTube, which had only been around for about four or five years at that point, and what we now call creators producing content for viewing on that platform. It was that shift to cam life that had started previously, obviously, I mean there’s a reason YouTube was called what it was, but it went along with that idea of democratization of the technology, of the ability for pretty much anybody with a small technological outlay to produce a video and have it available online for others to see.  Prior to the YouTube era, that would’ve been largely restricted to people with access to certain levels of broadcast technology, whether it was television or cable access, or a few other avenues. It wasn’t really as prevalent as we saw in, you know, the 21st century. And now with the growth of YouTube and the advent of Snapchat and TikTok, it really has completely taken over. But this is why it’s also still useful to look at some older articles because they give us an idea of what was novel at the time, what had changed, and this was really what was different with what was going on.

Michael Wesch is really drawing a lot from Goffman here and that idea of “the presentation of self in everyday life”, that we have different behaviors and there’s different aspects of ourselves that we will bring to the forefront in different contexts. So whether it’s at school or work or with our family or parents or friends or loved ones or what have you, we’re all slightly different in the way that we act around them. And this has been observed for a lot of different people in a lot of different contexts. But with the rise of what I’ll call here the mediated self and the complete flattening of all contexts due to, you know, Snapchat and Reels and TikTok, it has really taken a new turn.

Now, that idea of presentation of self for multiple audiences through vlogging, through YouTube, it isn’t exactly new because there was other versions of that before.  In a presentation by Dr. Aiden Buckland, he goes into some of the critiques of this, that a media archeologist or media historian could draw a pretty straight lineage from diarization and life writing as a practice that occurred on blogs through to the modern practices that we see with video logs or just TikTok and Snapchats.  This, in turn, is drawing heavily on the works of Dr. Michael Keren, who wrote a lot about blogs and their political action in the late nineties and early 2000s. But I digress. I’m starting to get a little bit further afield.

One of the ways to theorize Context collapse is that it’s like if every moment that you have that is recorded was available for instant replay at any time.  And with the advent of video services moving to the cloud and having everything accessible (and looking at YouTube’s archives, now you can go back to basically when they began), we have that idea of instant replay. So it isn’t just a context collapse in terms of anything might be available to multiple audiences, but it’s also a Time collapse in that everything is always available to all potential audiences, and this extension of the context collapse to encompass multiple times or at least all times that are recorded and stored in the cloud has been discussed by authors Petter Bae Brandtzaeg of Oslo and Marika Lüders. Now there’s a very obvious link to this, to the rise of what’s called cancel culture, and I’d be remiss if I went without mentioning it, but that’s kind of beyond the scope of what we’re discussing here. That’s a different thread, a different track that we will have to pursue at some time in the future. The other implication of this time collapse is something that we’ve discussing here on the podcast more recently, namely media, especially music,  and AI.

In terms of media, this context collapse, this time collapse is happening because obviously everything is available everywhere, all at once, at least for the most part. Things are currently in a state of flux, especially when it comes to television and film. The advent of the streaming services where each carved off a particular portion of the IP catalog that they happen to own has really changed how things have been interacting, but when it comes to music where streaming can basically all be done through one particular service, Spotify, with a few additional ones with minor catalogs, the impacts of that time collapse and context collapse are much more noticeable.

In an article published on The Atlantic in January of 2022, author Ted Gioia asked “Is old music killing new music?”. The author found that over 70% of the US market was going to songs that were 18 months or older, and often significantly so. Current rock and pop tracks now have to compete with the best of the last 60 years of recorded music. And while it is possible to draw some direct comparisons between the quality of the music as YouTuber Rick Beato did in a live stream on August 26th, 2023, where he asked: “Is today’s music bad?”, and looked at the top chart toppers from 50 years ago in August of 1973. You can argue that the overall production of music may be significantly better in 2023, but the overall composition, songwriting, and other elements may lack that magic that we saw, you know, 50 years ago. The most popular trend in music right now seems to just be a remix, a sample, a cover, or an interpolation of an older song.  Even a chart topper like Dua Lipa draws heavily on the recreation of a seventies dance club aesthetic and sound. So context collapse, even if it isn’t necessarily killing new music, is definitely changing the environment in which it may be able to, you know, survive and thrive. The environment’s almost getting a little polluted.

It’s very noisy there.

However, one of the other places we’re seeing the impacts of this noise, this context collapse, is in the generative AI tools, or at least this is one of the places that the noise is being put to use. On a post on his blog on July 17th, 2023, author Stephen Wolfram talked about the development of these generative art tools and the processes that it goes through to actually create a picture.  We work through the field of adjacent possibles that could be seen in something like a cat with a party hat on, and a lot of those images that are just a step or two removed for being a image that we as humans recognize shows up as noise. It turns out that what we think of as an image isn’t necessarily that random, and a lot of the pixels are highly correlated with one another, at least on a pixel-per-pixel basis. So if you feed a billion images into one of these models, in order to train it, you’re gonna get a lot of images that look highly similar, that are correlated with each other. And this is what Wolfram is talking about when he is talking about the idea of an “inter concept space”, that these images generally represent something or close to something. It’s not an arbitrary one either, but it’s one that’s aligned with our vision, something that we recognize, so a “human-aligned inter-concept space” that’s tied to our conception of things like cats and party hats.

But this “inter-concept” space is not only like ‘representative of’, but ‘fueled by’ the context collapse.  It requires the digitization of everything, like a billion images that go into it in order for it to be trained. But it also, you know, squishes everything together. Again, our technical term, smoosh. And this smooshing brings us back to TikTok because everything is there. That’s part of what’s contributing to the noise, but it also is why there’s such a volume of a signal that’s there. You can likely find something and it’ll get algorithmically delivered to you if you like it enough or you interact with. But this is also how it’s captured so much of the public sphere in a way that the owner of Twitter wishes it could, and that idea of the context collapse seems to be made manifest in these apps that are trying to capture the public sphere, that they have to capture everything, everything all at once.

And so we’re seeing the rise of the Everything app, the everything website, much like we talked about a few weeks ago in episode 10 with the rise of a o l and how it as a portal was for a lot of users. The internet, it was the entirety of it. And we’ve seen subsequently with Facebook, we’re seeing a number of competitors, sometimes in different places around the world, catering to a particular locality, but all of them trying to capture that “One thing to all people, to all customers”. In China, we see it with the rise of WeChat, which allows for calls and texts and payments as well. In Moscow, we can see it with the various apps that are run by Yandex, where you could use it for everything from getting a taxi to communications to your apartment, and there’s a lot of tools built-in and it actually has its own currency system built-in as well. A user by the name of Inex Code posted a list of everything that you can do with Yandex in Moscow. In North America, we can see it with not just Facebook, but also with Apple and Google and Amazon too. The breadth of services that they have available, and the continual expansion of services that they’re adding to their apps and platforms. And when Elon Musk bought Twitter, it was theorized that one of the things you wanted to do was turn it into a WeChat like app. His recent comments about LinkedIn and the option of adding that kind of functionality to the app now known as X indicate that he may well be headed in that direction.  And finally, the continual expansion of TikTok now include texts as well as a marketplace and music sales indicate there’s still more growth in that area too. As each of these walled garden “everything” apps try and gather up more functionality, we can see that this is one response to the context collapse: to provide a specific context within their enclosure.

It’s an effort to reduce the noise, or at least to turn it into something that happens outside their walls.

But setting up a wall may not be the only solution. It’s one way, obviously, that element of enclosure that’s taking place, but there’s other ways to deal with it as well. One way is a way we looked at with the Fediverse, where an everything app can be developed as long as it’s open. and there’s a lot of opportunity and possibility there, but that openness requires a fair amount of work by the user. It requires curation. It lacks the algorithmic elements that drive the enclosure of the other apps. Now, that doesn’t mean an algorithmic element couldn’t work for the Fediverse, it’s just that currently it’s not set up for it and may require a lot of effort to bootstrap something like that and get it going.

And absent an algorithm, it kind of points the way to the last two solutions that we have. The first one is just to lean into it to accept that there’s this change that’s happened to our society with the advent of digital media and everything being available. If the context collapsed, that’s fine. That’s just the way things are now, and we just have to learn to deal with it. And that leads into the second option. The one David Brin called The Transparent Society. And just that everything is available, and we’ll have to change our patterns of use. If we recognize that aspects of our culture are socially constructed, then we learn to live with that and we can change and adjust as necessary.  Things haven’t always been the way they are currently, and they don’t have to continue that way either. Because the last way forward to deal with context collapse is to look at some areas of our culture that have already experienced it and seen how they’ve dealt with it. Because context collapse is intimately tied with that idea of availability of everything as well as in video terms, what Wesch is talking about was the instant replay.

And the two areas that have managed that and have continued to succeed in an era of streaming media and context collapse are pro sports and pro wrestling. The way they’ve succeeded is recognizing that they have their particular audience, that their audience will find them, that they don’t have to be everything for all audiences.  And they’ve also succeeded by privileging the live, the now, the current event, something that revels in the instant replay, the highlight reel, the high spot, but also is allowed to continually produce new content because there might be a new highlight reel or a high spot in the very next game or match or show or finals or pay-per-view.  There’s always something new coming down the pipeline and you best not look away. It turns out that the best way to deal with the noise is to create something that cuts right through it.

Once again, I’m your host, Dr. Implausible. It’s been a pleasure having you with us today. I hope you join us next time for episode 14 when we investigate the phenomenon of the dumpshock. In the meantime, you can find this episode and all back episodes at our new online home at www.implausipod.com, and email me at Dr. implausible at implausipod com. Until the next time, while you’re out there in the busyness and the noise, have fun.

References and Links:

Brandtzaeg, P. B., & Lüders, M. (2018). Time Collapse in Social Media: Extending the Context Collapse. Social Media + Society, 4(1), 2056305118763349. https://doi.org/10.1177/2056305118763349

Gioia, T. (2022, January 23). Is Old Music Killing New Music? The Atlantic. https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2022/01/old-music-killing-new-music/621339/

Shannon, C. E. (1948). A Mathematical Theory of Communication.

Wesch, M. (2009). Youtube and You: Experiences of self-awareness in the context collapse of the recording webcam. Explorations in Media Ecology, 8(2), 19–34.

https://www.quantamagazine.org/how-claude-shannons-information-theory-invented-the-future-20201222/

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/2056305118763349

Generative AI Space and the Mental Imagery of Alien Minds

Implausipod E0010 – AOL, Fediverse, and Eternal September

 Introduction:

What does the relationship between a 40 year old game console company, and ancient internet protocol, and American Online have to teach us about the current issues faced by new users to the Fediverse? Let’s find out on this episode of the Implausipod.

https://www.buzzsprout.com/1935232/episodes/13373854

Transcript:

Welcome to the Implausipod, a podcast about the intersection of art, technology, and popular culture. I’m your host, Dr. Implausible. September is almost on us again, and with it the 30th anniversary of the Endless September, the date when the internet changed forever. Join me on this deep dive on the Implausipod.

So if I told you that a video game service developed for the Atari 2600, back 40 years ago in 1983, had implications for the future of social media in 2023, you’d be like, okay, that sounds a little implausible, but uh, “give it to me straight, doctor, I can take it!” and I’m like, “alright…”. That company, Control Video Corporation would about a decade later as AOL allow its users unfettered access to the nascent internet, especially Usenet, and that has direct parallels to the mass migration of users that were seen in 2023 due to the social media meltdowns of the former Twitter and Reddit, and researchers that are investigating the user experience of that migration are uncovering some things that have parallels to that transition in 1993.  So the lessons learned back then are still relevant to us today.

So this episode will cover all three, the history, the recent research, and how we can apply those lessons learned. So to begin with, let’s take you back to a dark and scary time called the eighties. Ooh, frightening.

In 1982, the Atari 2600 was the absolute market leader in home video game entertainment. It was pretty much everywhere. They had sold about 10 million copies of the VCS in North America, and while there was competitors like ColecoVision, Atari still had like 60% of the market. Now those who know their video game history are aware that 1982 was not the best time to be getting into the market, but at the time things looked rosy. There was an upcoming game called ET that was due to come out for Christmas that year, and things were looking pretty good. Pacman had just sold like 7 million units, and while it didn’t quite replicate the arcade experience (to put it mildly), you know, sales are sales, right?

And it was into this tech landscape that Control Video Corporation was born. What the company was working on was developing a system that would deliver games over telephone lines for the Atari 2600 video game console. The service called Game Line would allow the users to download the game and keep playing it as long as the console stayed on.

It was basically they sold a modem to the users and allowed them to use it. And it’s a reminder that there was a lot of really interesting things happening with computers long before the era of the internet. I mean, you also had like the Mintel system in France that was contemporaneous with this, and I think Mintel will absolutely deserve its own episode in a little while.

But while CVC was getting the product up and running and actually delivering games to customers, they hit a bit of a road bump, and that road bump just happened to look like a landfill out in the New Mexico Desert where all the unsold ET cartridges were dumped. So as the video game console market came to a screeching halt in 83 and 84, CVC began to hemorrhage cash, and by 85 they had reformulated into Quantum Link Corporation, or Quantum Computer Services, and they began to leverage and market their online technologies, which were innovative by all means. And they provided these online services to other computing companies and manufacturers with names like Commodore and Apple and Microsoft, and this ability of theirs to diversify and to provide services to multiple vendors allow them to thrive in a turbulent market where larger competitors that were tied to a particular vendor would fail if that vendor failed.

Quantum Computer Services was able to tailor their product to the various manufacturers that they were dealing with. So you’d have QLink on the Commodore or Apple Link on the Apple machines. And the product that they’re offering was basically what we now think of as an online portal. They were like a BBS front end.  It had graphics and chat and you could do a little bit of research or play some games, which could max out at an amazing 320 by 200 resolution. But often the games were in the text mode version, which is usually 24 across and 21 down, and it just used a lot of built-in sprites and pixels, and it looked a lot like playing DwarfFortress or a retro game like that.

And we can see versions of this portal with a still and everything from Yahoo to Google to Facebook to any of the social media sites. And that kind of gives us a hint of where we’re going with this. But in the meantime, Quantum Computing Services was having some success with the product, and in 1989, they rebranded it as America Online as part of their approach to attract new users to using online computing, and they’re pretty innovative in this approach as well. I mean, there was other competitors like Compuserve, but they focused the AOL experience on the new user, and that paid off because there was a lot more people not using the internet in 1989 than there was anywhere close to it. Computer use, especially online computer use, was very much a minority proposition at this point in time.

We might wanna say that everybody at this point was an early adopter of the internet. I mean, that’s not precisely true based on Roger’s diffusion curve, but it’s close enough, especially when compared to the size of the market now. And one of the ways they approached getting these new users was probably their biggest innovation, which was the mass distribution of their software through the floppy disks.

And I wanna be clear, that was an innovation because marketing innovations totally count. And AOL wasn’t technically superior to any of its competitors, especially the ones on like university campuses and government departments. And the funny thing is, it totally worked, it allowed for a ton of new users because at the time, I mean the floppy disks was still a useful, you could rewrite on them and they cost money at the store. So gather them up and you had something that you could go with. But for a new user that’s unfamiliar with the internet, it was software. All you need is a modem, and here you are, you’re connected and going on the internet as quickly as possible. And when I say “internet”, I wanna be perfectly clear because I’m not sure the air quotes that I’m currently miming are coming through clear over the podcast, but you know what I mean. ’cause it was a walled garden. Using America online in 1990 was a lot like logging on in 2023 and thinking Facebook is the entirety of the internet. I mean, for some users it may as well be, but you know, there’s a bigger world out there. But that being said, Quantum Computer Services was incredibly successful with their America online product and rebranded the company after the product.

In 1991, it became AOL, and at the time AOL was super successful with their floppy disc campaign. They were maintaining growth of anywhere between 36 to as high as like 197% year over year. That’s amazing. For a lot of people, America Online was the internet, but one of those other parts that was outside of its walled garden was Usenet.

Usenet was a distributed discussion forum, think Reddit, but not really owned by anybody and people just ran their servers for it. It used the NNTP protocol, the network can use transfer protocol, and it was really similar to like email, which was using the SMTP or Simple Mail Transfer Protocol. So similar but with like a few extra features that allowed for grouping and threading and, uh, distribution of the messages. Servers running the software would store and forward the messages to other servers in the network so that everybody had a copy that was pretty much local. Now there was rules for it, so not everybody carried everything, but by and large, you could get news or information from around the world depending on what, what the users were posting.  So it was all user generated content in a way similar to TikTok and Twitter and everything else nowadays. It was almost the original social media network, but there was a lot of academic stuff on there as well, because a lot of the servers were on universities. There weren’t that many ISPs out in the world at the time.

One of the big things within NNTP over email was it allowed for threaded communication, so if you’re ever wondering where Facebook got the idea for their current app, well there’s a hint. Over time, the group self-organized based on topic and interest and a culture of the internet kind of grew up around it.

There was a hierarchy to it where you had higher level domains that were structured around broad interest groups like comp or sci, or news or rec, and then lower-level domains that were more specific to a given topic like science fiction or wrestling or Linux or whatever. Some of these news groups were moderated, but most weren’t, and because of the way they were structured, they were very much those recursive Publix that we talked about in the last episode. NNTP was originally proposed in 1979 and became the dominant form throughout the eighties. It was basically what the internet was, along with bulletin-board systems and a few other servers.

And because of this, it developed a culture all of its own. A lot of the things that are still central to how we deal with things online, like flaming and spam, and FAQs all came from Usenet. The fact that some of those enduring elements are kind of negative maybe speaks a little bit to what the culture was like. Even though it was all text-based, it could be on occasion incredibly toxic. The lineage to 4chan is probably closer than a lot of your more highbrow forums. And when I say all text-based for the purpose of this discussion, I’m not getting into the binaries news groups at all. We’re just really focusing on the conversation now because these servers were mostly academic and a culture had developed around them.

Every year something wonderful happened, and that is in September, there was a bunch of new admissions to university who got access to the internet or to Usenet for the very first time, came online and started talking like they owned the place. And all of a sudden, the Flame Wars started developing again, as people got told. In a text-based forum, your options for communication are somewhat limited, so the communication could be somewhat terse, and your options for going to another server or rolling your own are well, “Hypothetically” there: you could engage with the protocol, set up a server; but at the time, and especially given the cost of these things, it was highly unlikely and there’s few limited commercial options. 

You had your CompuServe, or Prodigy or Delphi, but really there wasn’t a lot of options that you could use to get onto Usenet unless you had access through your institution, so people either learned and became accustomed to it, and over the month or two, you know, by November you became good net citizens or they left.  And when they left, they left. For other systems that had different cultures, either a BBS or like the private walled gardens, like the ones run by AOL. And that was fine. People could find a place where they fit in a cyberspace, where the culture worked for them and, you know, go about their business of being online.

This changed in 1993. As we said earlier, AOL was experiencing massive growth, and in September of 1993, they opened up the floodgates by allowing full access to Usenet for all their customers. So the influx of newbies far exceeded the capacity for the community to bring new people in and acculturate them to the process of the way things were done.  And so things kind of changed. Forever.

This was the Eternal September, and for the rest of the nineties UseNet that was radically different than what it was before.

So if that’s where we were in 1993, what does that have to do with now? What does a 30 year old change in the internet have anything to say about social media in the 21st century? Well, let’s run through it at a high level:

We have a distributed system of servers, running communication groups that are mostly text-based with an incumbent population, and they’re dealing with an influx of new users coming from various online communities that have different cultures, and they’re struggling to deal with the changes.

Well, let me ask you, does that description cover Usenet in 1993, or Mastodon and the larger Fediverse in 2023 following the implosion of Twitter and Reddit? Right. Maybe they’re a lot more similar than we think. So the lessons learned from the 1993 Endless September may have some implications for how the Fediverse can deal with incoming new users in 2023 and beyond because the Fediverse, and Mastodon in particular, are not without their problems.

It’s a relatively young protocol with ActivityPub being developed in 2018, and for the most part of that, it’s had relatively small user count, similar in a lot of ways to Usenet back in the nineties. And for the most part, the implementations that are built on top of the ActivityPub Protocol are trying to replicate various other social media sites or networks in a more open or friendly or accessible way to break out of the walled gardens of Facebook or Reddit or Twitter, in a similar way that AOL was a walled garden back in 1991. While some of these implementations are focused on videos or images like PeerTube or PixelFed, I’m gonna focus on the text-based ones like Lemmy, kbin, and most notably Mastodon.

Mastodon is one of the Twitter-style micro blogging implementations of the ActivityPub protocol in the FediVerse, and it’s the most prominent one. In 2022, following Elon Musk’s acquisition of Twitter, it saw a significant spike in its user base. The number of people that were looking for ABE, or Anything But Elon, found Mastodon (including yours truly, even though I wasn’t a significant Twitter user for the prior 15 years).

In 2022, not being on Twitter seemed prudent, but for people looking for ABE, Mastodon isn’t the only option. There are other alternatives like BlueSky, which is a new Microblogging service currently in beta, headed up by Jack Dorsey, the former honcho of Twitter, and there are some users that have moved to BlueSky as an alternative to Twitter who found that Mastodon wasn’t the thing for them, that BlueSky presented a more “Twitter-like” experience.

And for an example of some of the reasons why users might have opted for BlueSky instead of Mastodon, writer Erin Kissane did a survey of some of those “ex-Mastodon, now BlueSky” users and posted them to their blog. The piece is titled “Mastodon is easy and fun, except when it isn’t”, and it’s a really excellent piece that they posted up on July 28th, 2023, and in the Post, Erin includes some of the excerpts, the thick description that we’d expect to see in some qualitative research. And as I know from my own research in grad school that description is really where the meat of the responses can lie, and it allows you to uncover those insights as to what’s actually going on.

Erin groups the responses in four main categories, as well as a fifth meta category. I’ll give you the rough taxonomy right now, they are in order:

One: Got yelled at, felt bad.

Two: Couldn’t find people or interests people didn’t stay.

Three: too confusing. Too much work. Too intimidating.

Four: Too serious. Too boring, anti fun.

And then the meta category is the complicated high stakes decisions that go into the choices that have to be made when you’re engaged with the Fediverse.

So let’s look at those in order with an eye to everything that we’ve previously discussed about AOL and Usenet, as well as the idea of publics and communities online in the previous episode, and we’re gonna break those four into two groups because I think there’s a little bit of natural overlap between groups one and three and two and four.

So for groups one and three, the got yelled at felt bad and the too confusing, too much work, too intimidating group, w absolutely see echoes of Eternal September, the onboarding of new users to usenet and the acculturation process that took place. Now, what Erin captures here is a moment in time, and I want to stress that by way of example: between starting recording this podcast and wrapping it up, which sometimes takes me a day or two, there was a significant change to the Mastodon software with search being added (note: in beta), and that’s been one of the things that’s been discussed for quite some time as a missing feature, but that can also cause problems, s there’s been a lot of debate. Anyways, the point being is that conditions may change, and what we’re talking about at any given point in time may have changed by the time you’re listening to this, whether it’s weeks or months later.

Now, a lot of the scolding that was coming from the incumbent Mastodon users was on content warnings and etiquette, things that have been a bone of contention on various servers and software platforms for forever, for at least the 30 years, since the Endless September, and honestly since the dawn of the internet.  Some of these may be endemic and some of them may be just people overreaching their authority on what other people can do on a given platform, as it may come down to the mods or administrators and what their particular preferences are, but the federated nature of the servers on just one implementation of the ActivityPub on, you know, Fediverse – Mastodon –  means you’re gonna have a lot of different versions of what is acceptable and they may not scale across the entire thing, but finding that out, finding where your particular group is, is speaks to the second half of this, the intimidating and potentially confusing nature of it. But again, this is something that the devs and admins are aware of and making changes to, and in the nine months that I’ve been observing Mastodon, there’s been remarkable improvements in that onboarding process, even though I don’t think it’s still a hundred percent where it needs to be.

Now, as for the second group of responses, the ones that I’ve grouped together, which are Erin’s responses two and four, the “Couldn’t find people or interests” and the “too serious, too boring, anti fun” groups. I think I’ve covered a number of these in my Locally Boring post on the blog, but I’ll go into the details here. 

I recognized a fair amount of my own experiences in the responses that Erin captured in their survey, and what the survey captures is that notion of what I call locally boring, that absent an algorithm or the ability to import a social graph and have a preexisting group of connections, there might not be a lot of content there.  It functions very different, and “it’ being here, Mastodon, and the way it displays the information that’s available. Unless you’re following a specific hashtag or a specific group, you may only be seeing local information and depending on what’s available on your server, that might be not necessarily something you’re interested in.  Now, you’re not tied to the feed from your server, but that might not be initially obvious. It’s a lot like, you know, starting a new online role-playing game and all your friends decide to stay on World of Warcraft, you’re gonna be doing a lot of questing alone, and depending on a combination of your personality and the software, it may be a lot more or less fun.

And if it’s less fun, you’re less likely to stick around. And if you don’t stick around, you’re unlikely to build a community or find one. So depending on your tolerance for these things, your ability to endure through the fallow period, or the “Desert of Boredom”, or whatever you wanna call it, it may be tough to get to the other side and actually reach the Promised Land, but there are some solutions that you can use to mitigate these. 

Now Erin gets into a number of these in that amazing blog post, but I wanted to get into it, especially in context of what we were discussing at the start of the episode: AOL and Usenet. You see, I wanted to provide that context because I think it’s really important to realize that a lot of these issues are not new and that these problems have existed and that solutions have been tried over time.

What we’re seeing with the Fediverse is a period of decentralization in response to the centralization that occurred with the walled gardens of the various social media platforms or what Deleuze would call deterritorialization and reterritorialization, and that this happens cyclically over time, and it’s just the newness of the internet, (even though 30 years can feel like several lifetimes on the internet), but the relative newness of what we call new media on all of its platforms means we’ve only seen a few waves of this. Honestly, given the rapid developments of media as a whole during the 20th and 21st centuries, we often only see it once on any given platform like radio and film and television and the internet, so seeing it twice is kind of interesting, but I digress.

Any of the solutions that have been introduced over time have come with their own host of associated problems, and this is common with any study of technology we see this time and time again, regardless of the sphere. If the problem is discoverability or lack of content in showing up in people’s feeds, then you can use an algorithm to drive that content, but that could be gamed with potentially tragic results.

Similarly, if there’s low engagement, then you can add tools that increase shareability or spreadability, but that can lead to the development of parasocial relationships and potentially stalking and harassment. So there’s always a trade-off, and this is what Erin Kissane notes in their commentary about the meta-topical issues that we see in these spaces, that the divide between health and safety, and personalization and control, can lead to compromises being made that end up satisfying no one. So choices need to be made and in the Fediverse, that often happens at the server or instance level rather than at the aggregate level. Though that can happen as well when changes are made to the software or the apps or the overall user experience.

But it’s an ongoing and recursive process as we discussed last time. So for those making the decisions at those higher levels, maybe – just maybe – something can be learned from America Online of all places, about how they improved on the Usenet process. Back in the day, one of the things that AOL did was basically a process of “McDonaldization for the internet”, to borrow George Ritzer’s term, and what that process is, is a process of rationalization, to borrow a very Weberian approach, and it happens along four main dimensions, which are efficiency, countability, predictability, and control.

What AOL did was really cultivate the experience for that new user, catering to them and developing something that a complete beginner would be able to get working with minimal effort and make it easy enough that they could share it with their friends, becoming Spreadable Media in an era before Spreadable Media. The service had large, easily identifiable buttons and a very predictable interface from the standpoint of the customer. There was very few major version changes and even the minor version changes didn’t really have an appreciable difference in appearance. 

The most unpredictable thing was the connectivity issues that plagued dial up in the nineties, and part of that was just due to the rapid growth that they had and having to bring onboard new servers. But even then, a lot of the service was calculable and knowable. They (the user) could know how much they were gonna be billed for based on time, and engage with it, uh, to the extent that they needed to. AOL minimized the number of options available that were presented to the customer, but still made them available under the hood if needed. And a lot of this beginning experience could be totally ported over to the Fediverse. And here I’m gonna stray away from the site its sources a little bit and talk about more of the overall view of the Fedi verse.

A lot of the existing implementations of the ActivityPub protocol are replicating already existing apps, programs or platforms, there’s a point of confusion, not just on picking the right server on Mastodon, but whether they should be on Mastodon at all as opposed to kbin or Lemmy, or PixelFed or PeerTube or whatever.  From the outside viewer’s perspective, a lot of the different implementations appear to be a distinction without a difference. And if they can all talk to each other, what does it matter that you’re choosing one rather than the other? So it’s a stressor, it’s a point of confusion.

And the other thing that I’d like to point out is an observation. We’ve talked before about how the social web and online platforms in general treat the audience as a commodity and present ads to them. And for the Fediverse that lack of the commodification of self may be the very thing that the audience is missing. It lacks the warm all-encompassing goo of what Michael de Zengotita calls the “blob of post-modernity” or late capitalism. 

Now, I’m in no way arguing for the introduction of advertising on the Fediverse. It is perhaps not a thing to be wistful or nostalgic for. But the Dumpshock that can be felt can be very hard to take, especially for those who have grown up swimming in the flood of capitalist realism. Now, this isn’t a call to action, there’s no need to introduce that. It’s just an observation that the people experiencing that might be feeling something very different when they enter the Fediverse for the first time.

So as September draws near, this has been one of our longest episodes yet. If you’ve made it this far, thank you for hanging around. Hope you’ve enjoyed it and maybe learned a little something. I’d like to give a shout out to some of the sources that I’ve used, including Kara Swisher’s work on AOL from the nineties, Erin Kissane’s blog, as well as a number of other academic texts that I’ve referenced in the bibliography.

As always, I’m your host, Dr. Implausible. The show is licensed under a Creative Commons, share-alike 4.0 license. Music is by me, production is by me, research is by me. You can reach me at drimplausible at implausi dot blog or on whatever Mastodon instance I happen to be on this week. If there’s anything you found interesting or would like me to expand on, please let me know.

But in the meantime, have fun.

Links and References:

Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1987). A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. University of Minnesota Press.

De Zengotita, T. (2006). Mediated: How the media shapes your world and the way you live in it. Bloomsbury

Kissane, E. (n.d.). Mastodon is easy and fun except when it isn’t—Erin Kissane’s small internet website. Retrieved July 29, 2023, from https://erinkissane.com/mastodon-is-easy-and-fun-except-when-it-isnt

Op’tLand, R. (2009). Another Endless November: AOL, WoW, and the Corporatization of a Niche Market. Journal For Virtual Worlds Research, 2(3). https://doi.org/10.4101/jvwr.v2i3.660

Ritzer, G. (2000). The McDonaldization of society (New Century). Pine Forge Press.

Swisher, K. (1998). AOL.com: How Steve Case beat Bill Gates, nailed the netheads, and made millions in the war for the Web. Random House.