talk about change: social media making good

The return of intelligent debate

… And, we’re back!

After a prolonged absence, the Munk Debates are back (and, it ought to be acknowledged, so am I).

Today, 1 December, is the date of the fourth Munk Debate:

Be it resolved climate change is mankind’s defining crisis, and demands a commensurate response.

Indeed.

The debate itself hasn’t actually happened yet — if I’ve got my time zone maths straight, the debaters will be warming up with a few bars of me-Me-ME right about now — but I plan to watch tomorrow and respond soon after.

As bitterly cold as Toronto winters get (hold the climate change jokes, please), I find myself wishing I were there for this event, ear muffs and all. I don’t see other cities sponsoring this kind of intelligent debate — or at least, on this scale — and I think that’s a real shame.

One note on timing: the UN’s Climate Change Conference kicks off in Copenhagen (accidental alliteration, I assure you) in six days, so it certainly makes sense that climate change is THE subject of the hour. Indeed, I would expect the conference was taken into account when these debates were originally laid out. Yet today is also World AIDS Day, another defining crisis of our time (I half-wonder if the debaters against will cite this) and I can’t decide whether not hosting an AIDS-related debate on this day isn’t some sort of missed opportunity.

On the subject of literacy…

I’ve been thinking a lot about literacy over the past few weeks, specifically about whether it might be time to break down the binary and accept the idea of floating, flexible standards of literacy. This thinking was brought on by Howard Rheingold’s discussion at BBH London HQ, where he posed the question: if the internet has enabled a many-to-many model of communication… where to next?

I have been mulling this over a lot and I believe what’s happening next, or even now, is kind of sea-change, a focus and a shift within that many-to-many communication model.

Smaller, more meaningful, more local communities are emerging through the web. This means that context now plays a greater role in the communication equation. To wit: I now communicate to a meaningful (meaningful to me) few amongst the many, and that makes what I have to say, and what they say back to me, more useful. We don’t have to yell into a great heaving morass of people, anymore. It’s easier to be heard — and to listen to those few who are saying something I want to hear.

What’s more, while there is a practical need for the members of these emerging communities to speak the same language, that language need not be shared outside the group. (Cultural anthropologists have been going on about this forever; why it’s proven such a challenge for the digital brigade to accept, I don’t know. Perhaps we are still looking for the great equalizer?)

What this means, I think, is that the web is a means of connecting people, but not a language in and of itself.*

Herein, I think, lies the new reality of digital literacy: communication amongst the-few-within-the-many need not be measured by the same stick we used to measure all communication by, when it looked like the web was (meaningfully) going in that direction. But it’s not. It’s – beautifully, I think – branching into different communities, many which require different kinds of literacy.

Reading this post again, I’m having one of those ‘how could I be so completely ethnocentric?!’ moments. MY standards of literacy are utterly irrelevant to the members of a community that really has nothing to do with me.

Sure, there’s the ‘in a globalised world we all need the same tools’ argument, but let’s be honest – we’re not going to get them. And doesn’t it make more sense to put the effort into enabling a meaningful, productive information exchanges amongst the few-within-the-many, than it does to enforce one set of standards (rote learning; Western-style literacy) across an entire sea of communities? A little pragmatism, please.

* And so for professionals, this means moving away from ‘doing digital’, and being ‘digitally fluent’, and instead seeing that there is scope to do many things digitally.

Another take on Rheingold’s talk chez BBH — this one by photographer and digiman Jon Block. Interesting personal anecdote off the back of Rheingold’s point that ‘leveraging self-interest’ helps drive a shared creative or intellectual economy. Fair play, Jon.

Smart mobs and smarter media

Yesterday afternoon I had the colossal, mind-stretching pleasure of taking part in a chat with that wildly be-patterned futurist Howard Rheingold.

The event took place at BBH London and was organised by Made By Many, whose digital lady bug Elin Sjurnsen facilitated.

Rheingold delivered a really interesting overview of his own collective intelligence theories, and then expounded on these in the directions of mobile media, crowdsourcing, and, of huge interest to me, emergent uses of digitally-enabled collective intelligence in conflict hotspots (more on this in a subsequent post).

To borrow and bend a line from a creative visionary of his own, pre-digital time, the experience has pushed me to think about what we talk about when we talk about the web… and communication… and intelligence.

Some of the themes that resonated most with me had to do with knowledge aggregation, and “the action that emerges when people use media to amplify collaborative abilities”. I am especially interested in the examples Rheingold presented of this collectivism happening in socially excluded and economically deprived communities (again, more to come on this one).

One idea I’m still tussling with has to do with a changing definition of literacy. Historically, we have emerged from an oral tradition to a written tradition. Now, hip-deep in a fully digitized written tradition, with bastions of the written word crumbling on every corner, it’s beginning to look like maybe, just maybe, the ability to read and write need not be a prerequisite to engagement with the web, the very medium that emerged out of that written tradition.

This, for me, is a head-spinner of a possibility.

Could we be on the cusp of a digitally-enabled slide to the flip side of the oral tradition? Could the internet and mobile technologies come together in a new way to bring about change for people who have previously been excluded from the entire exchange because they couldn’t (meaningfully) put pen to paper, much less hands to keyboard? It’s something to think about.

Working in digital, it’s easy to think — almost exclusively — of the web as something outside of us, as a tool we use or a place we go to. This is limiting view, though, because it maintains a separation between the people who use the web and the web itself.

Yet Rheingold’s expansion on collective intelligence was a really crucial, timely reminder that the web is so much more than something outside of us. It connects us, so that in a sense, we are the web. And by this definition, it is as powerful and intelligent as the collective power and intelligence of all who use it.

Be it resolved debate actually matters

Here’s a big, awkward question: does foreign aid do more harm than good?

Most Westerners admit to being comfortably seated in the view that foreign aid is one of the least-bad things we can do about bad problems. But does that make it good? Neutral? Is that even enough?

It’s a difficult question to discuss, but it’s an even harder question to ask… which is why I’m saluting (on Canada Day, no less) Canada’s Munk Debates for asking it. Organised by Rudyard Griffiths and Patrick Luciani of Salon Speakers Series renown, the Munk Debates “seek to provide a lively and substantive forum for leading thinkers to debate the major issues facing the world and Canada”. Good on you, guys — the world needs more debate like this.

Funding comes from the Munk family’s Aurea Foundation (remit: spark debate and spur development in public policy) and the debates themselves take place at the Royal Ontario Museum (seats are $30) and play out on CBC radio and in Canada’s national daily, The Globe and Mail.

an all-star cast

Debate three took place on 1 June 2009. (Debate one addressed global security and the US election and debate two, the ethics of humanitarian intervention.) On the for side were innovator, thinker and 2002 Nobel Peace Prize Finalist Hernando de Soto, and the darling of the development world, charismatic iconoclast Dambisa Moyo. On the against side, Canadian hero Stephen Lewis, a global name in the spheres of HIV/AIDS and African development, and Paul Collier, author, economist and development guru.

The Munk Debates package offers two audience readings – one before (39% for and 61% against) and one after (41% for and 59% against) so the follow-on reader can get a sense of the mood of the night, and the pull the speakers had with the crowd. You can also read the arguments and watch the video, which I did.

my view (not quite a verdict)

Before the debate, I was an on-the-fence against: developed countries are throwing a LOT of money at Africa (for example), and although the progress and change coming out of the same region is decidedly little, at least it’s something. This may not be revolutionary thinking, but it’s logical: put me in a sinking ship and I will bail even as the water creeps over my knees.

But pulling me in the other directions are the more nebulous moral issues of foreign aid. Setting aside for a moment the meta-issue of ‘white man’s burden’ (even typing that makes me uncomfortable), there’s still plenty to discomfit about — like why donor countries ‘donate’: aid is often used (abused?) as a foreign policy tool. Further, a lot of aid is tied — comes with conditions, such as free trade policies and/or other criteria that benefit the donor country — a point our for duo did not hasten to belabour.

But even looking at the small(er) flow of untied aid, if this were looked at as an investment, it’s unlikely it would fly. This change costs too much. Something is fundamentally wrong with the way we (all participants) practice foreign aid. But still, for me, saying this is a ways off from throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

The question is, how much water are we going to pour down the drain, and how many parasites are going to allow to get fat off our giving, before we readdress the very principles and dynamics of what we are doing? Are the gains (and how do we measure them?) worth the costs (not strictly financial)?

Post-debate and after a good deal of thought, I’m still on the fence. But I’m ready to leap to the for side just as soon as I can see a viable place to land.

I’m no economics rock star and I haven’t got a quiver full of newer and better ways to practice development — if anything, as a child of the eighties who collected money for Unicef at Hallowe’en and came into her own consciousness in the same culture that celebrated Live Aid and cried over starving children in Ethiopia, it feels wrong to say foreign aid is wrong. But doing this the way we always have… it doesn’t feel right, either.

and on a technical note…

This wouldn’t be a social media/social change blog if I didn’t hit up the medium as well as the message (it’s Canada Day, let me have that one for Marshall).

I applaud the thinking behind these debates and the doing that makes them happen, and I feel all tingly and proud when I consider the Canadian connection… but (you knew that was coming) while I believe the Munk Debates concept does a lot, I don’t think it goes quite far enough – not yet anyway.

community matters

These debates rekindle that vital community fire that makes societies great by creating space for a town hall style meeting to debate issues that matter to all of us. Yet the concept stalls out in terms of its (lack of) forward momentum. And in this uberdigital world, there’s no excuse for that.

Communities are not only measured in bums on seats. And while it is great to see these debates hearkening back to that more literal interpretation of community, this cannot be at the cost of what else community means – the other ways we define community.

… yes, that means digital communities, too

So where’s the media strategy? The online chat? Twitter presence? Blog of what’s coming, the meta-stories around the debates? The crowdsourcing activities for the next debate, for the fallout to the last debate, for the public’s take on what we should be talking about? Looking at the site itself, why is coverage buried at the back of the site? Video of the latest debate is prominently featured but what about the follow-up? What happened next?

This is my community… but because I can’t be there physically, should I be so limited in the degree to which I can engage with these issues and this discussion?

what’s next?

Forthcoming debates are entitled Religion is a force for good in the world and More free markets and less government regulation is the answer to our economic woes. Expect colourful language, indeed.