The New Digital Age and why Google+ makes absolute sense

I’m currently ploughing through The New Digital Age, a roadmap for the future of the internet, from Google’s Eric Schmidt and Jared Cohen. To be honest, I’d not heard anything about the book, putting my hand in my wallet due to the strength of the names on the jacket.*

As you’d expect of a book from such a pair, there’s lots of stuff to chew over; the chapters about the emergence of a two-tier internet or the increasing role of the state in governing the online space are excellent. And while I initially struggled through the first chapter, which read a bit like a wet dream wishlist from a Tomorrow’s World episode, the book eventually finds its footing, offering a nice insight into the future as seen by the leading minds at Google.

If you read between the lines, it also gives a bit of a glimpse into Google's plan for the future; how the company might expand its product portfolio to accommodate new digital trends.

Based on these thoughts, Google+ makes absolute sense.

At the moment, Google+ is a bit like the Milton Keynes of the internet. On paper, it’s a perfect social network. It’s usable, intuitive and looks smashing (the updated iPhone app is a treat). But it’s a bit of a joke. No one really uses it to the extent they use Twitter or Facebook and the platform is frequently ridiculed as another attempt by Google to get on the social media bandwagon. But, having read Schmidt’s and Cohen’s predictions for the evolution of the internet, I’m not so sure. I don’t think Google+ is a social network for right now. It’s a platform designed to accommodate how we'll use the internet in two, five, or ten years (at least in two regards). Let me explain:

Schmidt and Cohen spend a lot of time writing about the future of online user behaviour. The increasing desire for individuals to have more control over the content they consume is a Big Thing for them.

The pair see more personalisation in their crystal ball; a desire for users to create an in-tray of news and opinions, addressing specific interests, without having to filter through irrelevant noise.

And Google+ does this very well. Within its circles format, users can syphon individuals into specific groups. If I want technology news, I’ll go to that circle. If I want local news, I’ll go to the section labelled ‘Manchester’. Facebook and Twitter are a constant stream of content; television mixed with breaking news, mixed with pictures of cake. It’s noisy. And unless I choose to spend a six hours of my life filtering everyone into lists, I can’t influence what content gets priority. Google+ addresses this problem of information overload (an issue I see becoming more and more prevalent as the online world gets bigger and noisier).

The book also comments on the developing demand for authenticity; for individuals to be transparent about their identity and motivations. There’s an interesting point on page 33 about search engines (and governments) turning to online identity verification in order to reduce the number of anonymous, ‘unseen’ commentators. Being unseen in the future, Schmidt and Cohen argue, will be bad for your career prospects, your educational choices and your credit rating.

To pull a quote from the book:

‘The true cost of remaining anonymous ,then, might be irrelevance; even the most fascinating content, if tied to an anonymous profile, simply won’t be seen because of its excessively low ranking...Identity will be the most valuable commodity for citizens in the future and it will exist primarily online.’**

The integration between Google+ and other services from the company offers a glimpse into the small steps Google is already taking in order to verify your identity, tying up profiles with a host of other services such as YouTube or Blogger, as well as using the platform to influence search ranking placement. The fact that Google+ is so publicly linked to your email address (which accepts a mobile number for verification during set up), is a glimpse at how the company is pushing us towards a more transparent way of existing online.

Food for thought.

No mention of hoverboards, though.

*There’s also a quote from Richard Branson on the back cover, if that’s the kind of thing that influences your purchasing behaviour.

**It’s worth noting there’s currently a setting on Google Dashboard that allows you to show the search results for your own name.

Reclaim workshop

In my spare time, I run 330Words, a not-for-profit writing community for authors and people who would like to be authors but don’t particularly know where to start. The thing's been ticking along for three years now and I'm quietly pleased about the community that's grown up around the site.

Next month, as part of 330Words, I’m going to be running a workshop with Reclaim, a great Manchester-based charity that works with young people to develop skills and confidence.

I’ll be teaching a session about creative writing based on my experiences with 330Words and hopefully imparting some thoughts on how to write a short story. If all goes to plan, the group will be writing some of their own work on the day and I’ll be putting the best ones live on the site.

I’ve lectured before on social media, but definitely looking forward to branching out. Exciting stuff.

Redesigning the save symbol

There’s an interesting discussion currently taking place on Branch about the relevance of the ‘Save’ icon; the 3.5 inch floppy disk that sits in the left-hand corner of most word-processing systems.

I haven’t used a floppy disk since the demise of my Acorn Archimedes in the early 90s and the discussion about replacing the symbol in the interests of relevance is an interesting one. Aside from suggesting a number of alternatives to the humble floppy disk, there’s also a fascinating argument relating to the semantic implications of choosing a new symbol.

Dane Petersen provides my favourite comment:

“The interesting thing about the floppy disk icon is that it isn't an abstract representation of the data object itself, but an anachronistic representation of the act of saving itself.

It sidesteps the issues of, say, a document icon being too specific (and not an appropriate symbol for, say, saving an edited video), or a circle icon being too generic (and not recognizable as representing a data object), by not attempting to represent the object at all. The floppy disk icon is brilliant in its idiocy.”

There’s also an argument about whether the save icon needs replacing at all. On his blog, Conner Tomas O’ Brien makes a strong case for keeping the status quo.

“Once a symbol enters a culture's visual language, it can convey meaning on its own, even after the physical object it ostensibly represents is obsoleted.”

The cautionary tale of Paris Brown

Over the weekend, The Mail on Sunday reported on the tale of Paris Brown, the newly appointed youth police and crime commissioner with a tendency to tweet her mind. The piece focused on the nature of the Tweets from the 17-year-old's personal Twitter account; comments which were described by her boss, Ann Barnes, as rude, offensive, unpleasant and unacceptable. You can read the full report from the BBC here.

"A lot of young people use them and say the most horrible things. They don't even think about what they are saying and I think this is what's happened with Paris," reflected Barnes.

"Won't it be good if, from her own experience, she can try to get over to young people that [some things] they say on Twitter or Facebook are unacceptable?” she added.

The eminent Steve Kuncewicz wrote an interesting comment on the situation. While you should all pop across to his site to read his take on the whole affair, I’ve pulled out a paragraph below:

"What you say online has real consequences in the real world. More and more cases in the employment tribunal revolve around social media comments and, despite the data protection and human rights issues involved in online vetting, I’d bet that most employers take a look at candidates before employing them.”

Wise words for a Monday morning.

Occasionally, I lecture to university students, advising them on how best to use social media to job hunt. My favourite stats come from a survey done by CareerBuilder.co.uk in 2010 (I bet this figure has gone up).

• 53 per cent of employers look at the social media profiles of applicants to a position.
• 43 per cent of these employers chose not to hire a candidate based on content they found.

Smash cut to Monday afternoon. The newspaper print on yesterday’s Mail on Sunday wasn’t even dry.

Surprising no one, the passing of Margaret Thatcher was extensively covered on everyone’s favourite 140-character social network of choice. Thatcher was a divisive figure and the commentary on Twitter reflected as much. Some people liked her, some did not.

And that’s absolutely fine.

Opinions are good. Twitter is a messy senate for the masses and I love that I get to eavesdrop arguments which dart between politics and television shows in a heartbeat. Opinions make social media an interesting place. And I can choose to agree or disagree with you at my leisure. But this isn’t my point.

Never write on Twitter what you wouldn’t want to be quoted on by your mum, boss or the BBC.

Some of today's tweets about Margaret Thatcher wouldn’t have looked out of place on the front cover of a national newspaper.

Social media isn’t new anymore and we’re not lawless pioneers in the wild west of the internet. What we say can be recorded, documented and played back to us. Time and time again, we have seen the repercussions of an ill-judged tweet; firings, legal action and convictions. Our words don’t just float away into cyberspace.

We need to be aware that, even on social media, our words have real ramifications.

Pitch Party Update - Running with Nike

This weekend, I had the chance to pick the brains of Tuheen Huda, winner of last year's Pitch Party competition. He's a sterling chap and it was great to get his thoughts on what I need to put together between now and next January for my own play.*

I've spent the best part of the weekend putting together some ideas about what I want to say during my play; what themes I want to explore and what, ultimately, I want the audience to get out of the experience.

The piece I performed during Pitch Party looked at the divide between our real lives and our digital personas; how we pick and choose what to post online in order to present a distilled, idealised version of ourselves on platforms like Twitter and Facebook.

I run a fair bit, but I'm fairly selective about what I let the Nike app autopost to Twitter after a jog. If it's a decent run, I'll probably want to share it. If not then, well, I won't.

Tweets about "with Nike+Running"

*Everything.

On public speaking and going a bit off track

I enjoy public speaking.

Yesterday, I gave a presentation to students on the Search and Social Media Marketing course at Salford University, discussing advertising through social media. They were a great class and Media City is a lovely place to spend some time. A good start to the Easter weekend.

On the way home, I was replaying bits of the presentation in my head; the parts that went well and the sections that could have been better. On more than one occasion, I left my slides to expand on a point or answer a question during the presentation. I couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad thing.

I’ve sat through hundreds of presentations, but I can remember just a handful of them. The most interesting ones, the ones that added the most value, all had something in common. At some point during the speech, the speaker went off the PowerPoint rails and just started talking.

I’ve occasionally spoken at Tales of Whatever and my decision to practise my stories beforehand raises a few eyebrows. But, I don’t learn it all word for word; I remember the key points and flesh out the rest of the story on stage. Sometimes this means I talk about interesting things I didn’t really plan on discussing. I think the same can be said for presentations.

Presentations should add value; they should be structured, informative and answer questions. But I think you might get the most out of them when they go a little bit off track.

Additionally, I said I’d include an example of Storify for the students on the course. Various tweets from the talk are below:

Finding a home for podcasts

I've never been able to find a home for podcasts.

I think the medium is the issue. At home, I listen to the radio or Spotify; noise to fill up the flat as I work or read. Trouble is, I want podcasts to add value, rather than just serve as background noise. I want to be an active listener, as opposed to keeping half an ear out while my attention roams elsewhere.

Recently (yesterday), I've been giving some thought into how I can start getting the most out of podcasts without it eating into the desk time I'd reserve for writing or Minecraft. I think there's a space for them somewhere,a civil partnership to be made with some other routine, although I've yet to find it.

Some ideas I discounted fairly quickly:

• Running - Unless the presenter has a 150bmp speaking style, I don't imagine it being very conducive to a good lap time.
• Morning commute - Potentially, although my commute is ten minutes on foot and if my caffeine intake is a bit logy, I think it'll be a waste of an exercise. 
• In the kitchen - If anyone could do a podcast that comfortably fills the six minutes before the microwave pings, I'd been all ears.
• Asleep - Knowledge via 100 per cent cotton osmosis.

To be workshopped (verb, probably).