Centre for Internet and Society

Facebook: A Platform with Little Less Sharing of Personal Information

nishant — 2016-06-05T02:38:22Z

As Facebook becomes less personal, what happens to digital friendship?

The article was published in the Indian Express on May 8, 2016.

Facebook is worried. Even though usage is growing, something strange is happening on the social network. For the first time since it started its journey as a website to rate datable people on college campuses, to becoming the global reference point that defined friendship in the connected age, people are sharing less personal information on Facebook. For a social media network that positions itself largely as a space where our everyday, banal doings become newsworthy articulations, this is surprising news. But it is true. On Facebook, the traffic is high, but most of it is now sharing of external information. People are sharing links to news, to listicles, to videos, to blogs entries, to pictures and to information that they find interesting, but they are writing less and less about what it is that they are doing and feeling.

Ironically, this coincides with the latest change in Facebook’s “response” options, where the ubiquitous “Like” button can now expand to other emojis where you can also be appropriately angry, sad, surprised, or happy about the shared content. Even as Facebook is trying to get its users to qualify how they feel and give emotional value to their likes, people seem to be sharing even less of their private lives on Facebook.

One of the key ways of understanding this drop in people sharing their personal information is through the concept of “context collapse”. It has been a concern since the first instances of disembodied digital communication. In our everyday life, we make sense of information based on the different contexts that surround us. The person who authors the information, the setting within which that information reaches us, the emotional state that we are in when encountering the information, our sense of where we are when processing it, and the preparedness we have for receiving this information are all crucial parameters by which we make sense of the meaning of the information and also our response to it.

In the case of Facebook, the context within which information and transactions have made sense is “friendship”. The site’s USP was that you could bring in a variety of information, but you were always sharing it with friends. You could have a large audience, but this audience is formed of people you know, people you trust, people you add to your friend groups — there is a sense of intimacy, privacy, and casualness that marks the flow of information. You are able to talk, in an equal breath, about what you had for breakfast, your crush on a celebrity, your random acts of charity, and your strong political rant, one after the other, without requiring to think about what you are posting and how others will receive it.

However, Facebook is not really a friendship platform. It is a company interested in selling our interactions and data to advertisers who can target us with content and information based on the patterns of our behaviour. To serve its advertisers better, Facebook started privileging “verified” information trying to ensure news and content producers higher attention and more eyeballs. This was further strengthened by their continued integration with third party vendors, who could push and pull information into the social world of Facebook, and is seen as one of the biggest reasons for this drop. Any newsfeed in the last few months has had equal amounts of professional and amateur content, leading to a context collapse, where you no longer feel like your Facebook feed is a private and intimate conversation with friends.

Similarly, Facebook’s expansive integration of its products —WhatsApp chats, Instagram updates, and Tumblr posts all can collapse into one — produced a confusing space where the personal information that you were once happy to share with your friends, is suddenly being shared along with news and information. Also, digital behaviour works on mirroring, and we often shape our updates to match what we see on our timelines. If we more and more see external content rather than personal statuses, we also start sharing more third party news and links, thus producing a domino effect of everybody shying away from extremely personal or intimate moments.

Facebook, for the millennials, has been the context within which friendship got structured. Its own transitions have now collapsed that context, leading people to think of it as a content aggregator. It is going to be interesting to see what happens to our digital friendships and networks if Facebook is no longer the space where they are housed.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/indian-express-nishant-shah-may-8-2016-facebook-a-platform-with-little-less-sharing-of-personal-information

Online Censorship on the Rise: Why I Prefer to Save Things Offline

nishant — 2016-06-05T03:26:50Z

As governments use their power to erase what they do not approve of from the web, cloud storage will not be enough.

The article was published in the Indian Express on April 17, 2016.

It took me some time to trust the cloud. Growing up with digital technologies that were neither resilient nor reliable — a floppy drive could go kaput without you having done anything, a CD once scratched could not be recovered, hard drives malfunctioned and it was a given that once every few months your PC would crash and need a re-install — I have always been paranoid about making backups and storing information. Once I kicked into my professional years, I developed a foolproof, albeit paranoid, system, where I backed up my machines to a common hard drive, made a mirror image of that hard drive, and for absolutely crucial documents, I would put them on to a separate DVD which would have the emergency documents. It was around 2006, when I discovered the cloud.

It began with Google’s unlimited email accounts where you could mail information to yourself and then it would stay there for a digital eternity. I noticed that the size of my digital storage began decreasing. I no longer download videos I find on the web. I don’t save information on a device and I have come to think of the web as one large cloud, relying on the fact that if something is online once, it will always be available to me.

However, over the last couple of months, I have started noticing something different in my usage patterns. These days, when I do come across interesting information, instead of merely indexing it, I find myself making an offline copy of that information. Tweets enter a Storify folder. YouTube videos get downloaded. I make PDF copies of blogs and take screenshots of digital medial updates. I have been wondering why I am suddenly so invested in archiving the web when, theoretically, it is always there.

When I voiced this to a group of young students, I was surprised to hear that I wasn’t alone. The web is becoming a space that is crowded with take-downs, deletions, removals, and retractions which leave no archival memory. The students quickly pointed out that these take-downs are not just personal redactions. In fact, what we personally choose to remove has very little chances of actually disappearing from the web. Instead, these are things that are removed by governments, private companies and intermediaries who are being largely held liable for the content of the information that they make available.

Turkey, recently, demanded that German authorities remove a satirical German video titled Erdowie, Erdowo, Erdogan mocking their President. In response, Germany reminded the Turkish diplomacy of that lovely little thing called freedom of speech, and in the meantime, Extra 3, the group that had released the video on YouTube, added English subtitles to the video. Just for perks. I hope you gave a brownie point to Germany, even as you scrambled to see the video.

On the home front, though, things are not as celebratory. The minister of state for information and broadcasting, Rajyavardhan Rathore, and the head of the BJP’s information and technology cell, Arvind Gupta, have called for action against journalist Raghav Chopra who tweeted a photoshopped image of PM Narendra Modi bending down to touch the feet of a man dressed in Saudi Arabia’s national dress, to make a political comment about the PM’s recent visit to SA.

The two politicos, who have not had much to say about the doctored videos that were used to convict innocent students in JNU or the photoshopping that the government’s Press Information Bureau had indulged in to give us that iconic image of the prime minister doing an aerial survey of #ChennaiFloods, have taken umbrage against an image because it seems (obviously) false, and are demanding its takedown.

My proclivity for saving things offline is perhaps fuelled by this web of partisan censorship and the atmosphere of precarious hostility that governments seem to be supporting. Increasingly, we have seen, in India and around the globe, a rush of political power that exercises its clout to remove information, images and stories that they do not approve of.

Instinctively, I am reacting to the fact that intellectual questioning or cultural critique is being removed from the web at the behest of these vested powers, and that the cloud, light and airy as it sounds, is prone to some incredible acts of censorship and removal. I have found myself facing too many removal notices and take-down errors when trying to revisit bookmarked sites, that I am beginning to feel that the only way to keep my information safe might be to archive the whole web on a personal server.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/indian-express-nishant-shah-april-17-2016-online-censorship-on-the-rise

A Large Byte of Your Life

nishant — 2016-06-05T03:35:34Z

With the digital, memory becomes equated with storage. We commit to storage to free ourselves from remembering.

The article was published in Indian Express on April 3, 2016.

This is the story of a broken Kindle. A friend sent a message to a WhatsApp group that I belong to that she is mourning the loss of her second-generation Kindle, that she bought in 2012, and since then had been her regular companion. It is not the story of hardware malfunction or a device just giving up. Instead, it is a story of how quickly we forget the old technologies which were once new. The friend, on her Easter holiday, was visiting her sister, who has a six-year-old daughter.

This young one, a true digital native, living her life surrounded by smart screens, tablets, phones, and laptops, instinctively loves all digital devices and plays with them. In her wanderings through her aunt’s things, she came across the old Kindle — unsmart, without a touch interface, studded with keys, not connected to any WiFi, and rendered in greyscale. It was an unfamiliar device. But with all the assurance of somebody who can deal with digital devices, she took it in her hands to play with it.

Much to her dismay, none of the regular modes of operation worked. The old Kindle did not have a touch screen operated lock. It wasn’t responding to scroll, swipe and pinch. It had no voice command functions. As she continued to cajole it to come to life, it only stared at her, a lock on the digital interface, refusing to budge to the learned demands and commands of the new user. After about 20 minutes of trying to wake the Kindle up, she became frustrated with it and banged it harshly on the table, where it cracked, the screen blanked out and that was the end of the story.

Or rather, it is the beginning of one. As my friend registered the loss of her clunky, clumsy, heavy, non-intuitive Kindle, and messages of grief poured in, with the condolence that the new ones are so much better and the assurances that at least all her books are safe on the Amazon cloud, I see in this tale, the quest of newness that the digital always has to offer.

If it has missed your attention, the digital is always new. Our phones get discarded every few seasons, even as phone companies release new models every few months. Our operating systems are constantly sending us notifications that they need to be updated. Our apps operate in stealth mode, continuingly adding updates where bugs are fixed and features are added. Most of us wouldn’t know what to do if we were faced with a computer that doesn’t “heal”, “backup” or “restore” itself. If our lives were to be transferred back to dumb phones, or if we had to deal with devices that do not strive to learn and read us, it might lead to some severe anxiety.

The newness that the digital offers is also found in our socially mediated lives. Our digital memories are short-lived — relationships rise and fall in the span of days as location-based dating apps offer an infinite range of options to choose your customised partner; celebrities are made and unmade overnight as clicks lead to viral growth and then disappear to be replaced by the next new thing; communities find droves of subscribers, only to become a den of lurkers where nothing happens; must-have apps find themselves discarded as trends shift and new must-haves crop up overnight. Breathless, bountiful and boundless, the digital keeps us constantly running, just to be in the same place, always the same and yet, always new.

We would be hard pressed to remember that magical moment when we first discovered a digital object. For millennials, the digital is such a natural part of their native learning environments that they do not even register the first encounter or the subsequent shifts as they navigate across the connected world. Increasingly, we tune ourselves to the temporality and the acceleration of the digital, tailoring our memories to what is important, what is now, and what is immediately of use, excluding everything else and dropping it into digital storage, assured in our godlike capacities to archive everything.

This affordance of short digital memories is enabled partly by the fact that we are subject to information overload, but partly also to the fact that our machines can now remember, more accurately and more robustly than the paltry human, prone to error and forgetfulness. With the digital, memory becomes equated with storage, and the more we commit to storage, the more we free ourselves from the task of remembering.

The broken Kindle is a testimony not only to the ways in which we discard old devices but also our older forms of individual and collective memory — quickly doing away with information that is not of the now, that is not urgent, and that does not have immediate use value. My friend’s Kindle got replaced in two days. All her books were re-loaded and she was set to go. However, as she told me in a chat, she is not going to throw away her old broken Kindle. Because she wants to remember it — remember the joy of reading her favourite books on it. She is scared that if she throws it away, she might forget.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/indian-express-april-3-2016-nishant-shah-a-large-byte-of-your-life

The Digital is Political

nishant — 2016-06-05T03:58:46Z

To speak of technology is to speak of human life and living.

The article was published in the Indian Express on March 20, 2016.

“You are supposed to write about the internet, why do you keep talking about all this politics?” I was taken aback when I was faced with this question. It is true – since the year has begun, I have talked about digital education and the ways in which it needs to account for unexpected and underserved communities, about net neutrality and why the Indian government needs to build a stronger, safer, and a more inclusive digital ecosystem. I have written about freedom of speech and expression and how this is going to be the year when we stand together to save the internet from vested interests that seek to convert it from a public commons into a private commodity.

In my head, all these questions — of inclusion, of access, of presence, of rights — are questions of human life and living, but they are also those that are being hugely restructured by the internet and digital technologies. When faced with the query, I was reminded of a deep-seated division that has been at the heart of digital cultures.

Way back in the ’90s, when the internet was still a space of science fiction and the World Wide Web was in its nascent stages, there was a distinction made between Virtual Reality (VR) and Real Life (RL). The presumption in the construction of these categories was that the digital is only an escape, the technological is merely a prosthesis, and the internet is just a thing that a few geeks engaged with in their free time. However, the last three decades have made this distinction between VR and RL redundant.

We live in digital times. The digital is not just something we use strategically and specifically to do a few tasks. Our very perception of who we are, how we connect to the world around us, and the ways in which we define our domains of life, labour, and language are hugely structured by the digital technologies. The digital is ubiquitous and hence, like air, invisible. We live within digital systems, we live with intimate gadgets, we interact through digital media, and even though we might all be equally digital natives, there is no denying the fact that the very presence and imagination of the digital has dramatically restructured our lives. The digital, far from being a tool, is a condition and context that defines the shapes and boundaries of our understanding of the self, the society, and the structures of governance.

The pervasive nature of the digital technologies and internet can be found at multiple levels. For instance, we do not think about going online anymore, because most of our devices are connected 24×7 to the digital web. Even when we are not online, sunk in a bad network connection, or protecting our precious data usage, we know that our avatars and digital identities are online and talking without us.

So established is this phenomenon that we even have a name for the anxiety it creates: FOMO — the Fear Of Missing Out. Similarly, the digital can be located at the level of human understanding. We are used to thinking of ourselves as digital systems. We talk about our primary identity as one marked by information overload. We often complain, when faced with too many demands on our time and space, that we don’t have enough bandwidth to deal with new problems, and we are not referring to digital connectivity.

The digital also has space at the level of policy and governance. If you, like the many millions of Indians, have registered for an Aadhaar card, you have already been marked by a digital identity whether or not you have broadband access. When our government launches Digital India campaigns, it is not merely about an economic model of growth, but it is suggesting that the digital is going to be at the foundations of the new India that we want to build for the future.

If the digital is so central to our fundamental understanding of the self, the society, and the state, then surely it is time to stop thinking that these technologies have nothing to do with politics? There remains a forced imagination of technologies as devices, as tools, as prostheses which do not have any other role than the performing of a function. However, this is a fallacy, because not only do technologies shape our sense of who we are, but they also prescribe new templates and models of who we are going to be. In the process, these technologies take political action, create social structures, mobilise cultural possibilities, and often, because they are technologies that are still elite and available to the privileged few in the country, they enable decisions which are not always fair, open, and just.

Hence, a technological decision cannot be read merely as a technical decisions but as human decisions. To speak of technology is to speak of human life and living. To write about technology is to write about politics, because a separation between the two is not only futile but downright dangerous.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/indian-express-march-20-2016-nishant-shah-digital-is-political

The Idea of the Book

nishant — 2012-04-10T09:53:27Z

Its future lies in a trans-media format that is ever evolving, writes Nishant Shah in an article which was published in the Indian Express on April 8, 2012.

If you are a true bibliophile, you have long transcended making mortal judgements about books, based on insignificant factors such as plot, narrative, or writing style. A true bibliophile is in love with the form of the book — the joy that comes from the rustle of a turned page, the euphoria of holding a book in your arms, the satisfaction that rises from watching a tottering stack of books. For hardcore bibliomaniacs, the love is at a sub-molecular level, so to speak, finding their happiness and content in shapes of fonts, thickness of paper, methods of binding, imprints and meta-data that tells its own story. For all these true lovers of books, their affection goes beyond the content of the book. They love the book as an artefact, as an object of desire. It is as if there was a “bookness” to the book that they deeply appreciate.

It is these people, along with many others, who mourn the death of the book in the age of digital mass production. With the advent of the e-book and the ubiquitous presence of reading devices, many have announced the death of the book. The ‘dead-tree book’, as it is often derisively described in many circles, is a thing of the past. As we live in worlds of increasing interface, the surfaces we read on, the way we read, and the forms that we read have undergone a dramatic reconfiguration. Swype-and-touch has replaced turn-and-fold and the book as we know it, is growing extinct.

Professor Bruno Latour — one of the first theorists and critics of digital technologies, large-scale networks, and new methods of knowledge production — from Sciences Po in Paris, during his recent visit to Bangalore, suggested that instead of accepting the imminent death of the book and mourning its demise, it might be more fruitful to look at its future. The digital, he says, does not question the idea of the book, but merely the form. This, for me, is a fascinating idea. We often recognise the book as a form — something that is written, something that is bound, or something that is found in libraries. If you were to define a book, you would talk about the different kinds, shapes, colours and sizes of books but you won’t necessarily be able to explain it. This is because a book is only a material manifestation of a much larger idea and this is what we need to focus on.

The book has seen many transitions in its form from the pre-print, hand-written manuscripts by trained scribes to the print-on-demand paperbacks which can be assembled easily. Technologies have not threatened but actually helped it change, evolve and keep up with the times. When we think of the digital book and the possibilities it offers, these are much more exciting than the rather Luddite lament about how the book is dead.

In the digital medium, the future of multimedia narratives is convergence. An ability to tell stories, record knowledge, share information and make connections through a variety of media forms and styles changes the future of the book. Imagine a book that begins with a text, continues through music, blends into user-generated pictures and ends with a video. Imagine this book being written, not only in different media but also by different people, simultaneously, resulting in a layered palimpsest rather than a static page. Imagine each page and every word on the page not as a fixed thing but one of a series of alternatives. Imagine a book that is written as it is read, and no longer excludes print-challenged or differently-abled people from contributing to the writing, reading and sharing process.

A trans-media format would stay true to the democratic and inclusive vision of a book and correct the limitations of print. Such a book would also free knowledge and information from businesses — let’s not forget that the publishing and education system is a business — and allow a new audience to participate in knowledge production. This is not a mere fantasy. We already have new models such as mash-ups which give us a new logic to sort and store information. Imagine Facebook as a collaborative platform where different information can come together to supplement the traditional book. Wikipedia is a space of knowledge production, which might simulate the older encyclopaedia form, but it is written by unpaid contributors, collaboratively, even as the Encyclopaedia Britannica announces its last ever print publication.

The form of the book is going to change as it has over the last 500 years. However, the idea of the book — a receptacle that contains and records collective wisdom, information, ideas, knowledge, experiences and imagination of humankind – is here to stay. The digital book has to be understood not merely as a digitisation of an older book, but has to be imagined as a smorgasbord of possibilities which will revolutionise the form of the book and bring it closer to its intended vision. It is time indeed to announce, ‘The Book is Dead! Long Live the Book!’

Read the original from the Indian Express

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/idea-of-the-book

Personal Data, Public Profile

nishant — 2012-02-14T06:19:52Z

Whether we like it or not, we live in a world that is rapidly being Googlised, writes Nishant Shah in an article published by the Financial Express on February 13, 2012.

Apart from its core functions like search and email, we consume Google services and products around the clock and around the click—YouTube, Calendar, Docs, Google+, Google Reader, Google Analytics et al. On March 1, 2012, our increasingly co-dependent relationship with Google will reach a new stage of commitment as Google consolidates its privacy policies for the entire Google universe. If you are logged into your Google account, all your information across Google’s different platforms will be clubbed together to form a comprehensive profile of what you do online.

Google has suggested this will personalise your interactions with Google platforms. The videos you watch on YouTube might influence your search results; the links that you click on will affect the advertisements displayed to you; the mails that you read will establish proximity with your friends on Google+ ... A comprehensive profile of who you are, what you do, what you like, what you share and what you hide will be created. Google has shown unmatched commitment to transparency on user data retention, storage and usage over the years. However, a centralised profile on users rings a few alarm bells for me. There are three use-cases that immediately crop up with apocalyptic implications.

Death of anonymity: One of the biggest strengths of the internet, as a space for both political dissent and freedom of expression, is that it has allowed people to talk through their avatars without putting themselves in conditions of bodily harm. So, it was good to have a scenario where my activities on YouTube did not get mapped onto my more identifiable profile on Google+ and did not get correlated with my personal interactions on Gmail. Mapping all the actions of a user who might want a more distributed identity might lead to precarious conditions for users living in critical times.

Negotiation with governments: While Google claims that it is committed to protecting the safety of its users, we know that it is eventually subject to the rules of the countries that it operates in. In the past, say in skirmishes with China, we have seen that despite its powerful status, it is not exempt from the demands of different governments. Given the current state of negotiations around censorship that are ongoing in India, it is a little scary to think how users’ data can be abused by authoritative government officials. A multi-tiered, distributed system offers users safety which a consolidated one doesn’t.

Inter-platform repercussions: If something I do on a platform gets flagged as objectionable, does it mean that all my rights to Google World get revoked?

Hidden data collection: One of the things that a lot of people don’t realise is that Google, in its attempts at enriching our user experience, collects more data than you disclose. So, apart from the personal data that you have more control over, there is a range of other data—pages you visit, the time you spend there, links you click on, comments that you write, information you share, etc—which form a part of Google’s algorithms for you. Consolidation of this data through services like Ad Sense and Double Click might also expose you to third party advertisers who might abuse this information that is about you but not under your control.

Google’s consolidation of its privacy policies across platforms signal a new wave of information management on the web, where the earlier free-form distributed information practice is getting mapped on to the physical bodies of the users. While it might lead to better web services, it also means that we need to be more aware of our information practices and start preparing for a web that is going to demand more accountability from its users than ever before.

The author is a digital humanities scholar and Director-Research at the Bangalore-based Centre for Internet and Society.

The original article was published in the Financial Express

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/personal-data-public-profile