Zach Beauvais

Democracy and the Web: the UK gets it while America tries to control it.

// July 25th, 2009 // Comments // blogging, emergent, interesting, perspective

I read yesterday that twitter has been banned from the White House. In the post, Marshall Kirkpatrick joked that this could be a reason we haven’t seen much from Obama’s twitter stream recently. I must admit however, my initial reaction was sympathetic with the White House for pragmatic reasons, though the attitude of the Press Secretary’s attitude towards “twitterers” did raise the hackles. It makes sense to be secure in the White House, to make sure people aren’t saying things which could be dangerous or cause scandal through carelessness. “Loose lips sink ships”, don’t they?

But I think there is a wider idea here, which I think I’ve glimpsed between the lines.

about 8 hours ago from Tweetie...

However, I also use twitter to share news. When my grandfather recently passed away, I received dozens of messages of encouragement and sympathy. Several of us here in Shropshire organise a monthly get together to network and discuss tech-trends and the work we do through the @shropgeek. Important announcements at work, and shared interest groups often rely on twitter for their spread and response, and I’ve had customer service reps from big companies personally respond to my feedback. Of far more significance, the government of Iran was unable to stop twitter, allowing its citizens to tell the rest of the world what was going on when all other forms of communication were censored, blocked, or monitored. And citizens from around the rest of the world responded.

twitter is a medium, and suggesting someone is petty and fatuous because they use it is like suggesting everyone on TV is unimportant or vain. There is no connection between the inane talk-show host and the investigative journalist or head of state! The point is in the message, not the vehicle. But, the point this raises in my mind is that twitter, and other forms of web-enabled channels make for a high level of transparency, and I don’t think the US (in particular) is a power who likes transparency at the moment.

This has lead me to question what I think of the use of web-media by politicians and important figures, particularly in the US and UK. It makes me wonder whether the “Loose lips” philosophy is misguided in the modern world. You see, closing channels, blocking communication, and monitoring messages suggests a democracy that doesn’t trust its citizens with the truth. Sure, there are controls and securities which must be in place, and I’m not suggesting for a moment that every clerk should have a constitutional right to twitter state-secrets…

…or am I?

You see, the United States is global super-power on par with, and probably only directly comparable with great states of the past called Empires. The notion of an emperor of the US would chill the blood of most of my family, and thinking of the US as anything but a “democracy” is practically heresy. After all, citizens’ rights are ensconced in the very foundation myth and history of the US itself. “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal…” begins a letter to a despotic monarch, sparking off the touch-pad for liberating men from the rule of figureheads, class and social bondage. But part of this very myth* that the Republic, “of the people, by the people and for the people” should be based on citizenship trusted to look after themselves and even take up arms to defend their status as such citizens. There is a deep-running notion in the American psyche that if the government were ever to get too big for it’s boots, it is the right—nay, duty—of her citizens to act to reduce her power.

But I don’t believe the US is a state that can be corrected by its citizens very effectively at all. I think of the complexity, size, presence and byzantine nature of the US Government, and I feel disconnected, small, and powerless to change anything. Over the past decade, in the name of security, Americans put up with reductions in liberty, and I think this principle is bleeding through the cracks in the facade of governance. Blocking channels is saying: “we don’t trust you”.

What would a country look like where the public had access to the vast majority of government information? Where government officially made use of the media its citizens used? Where government officials were held accountable via the various media whenever they were caught being mis-represented?

Oddly, I think it’s the UK.

The “traditional” media here are a powerful force. It is seen as a near human right to have intimate news of public officials and dealings, and watching politicians being interviewed by members of the press is like eaves-dropping on a job interview or witnessing a cautious father’s first meeting of a prospective suitor for his only daughter. The press is a force to be reckoned with here, and it’s not seen as the trustworthy force itself, but is is composed of citizens, not officials.

Does this scandalise the government? Yes… and no. There is a very different attitude toward elected officials here, which doesn’t translate easily to American. A Member of Parliament is legally referred to as “Honourable Member”, but the “honourable” is not taken as read by the average Brit. For decades, for example, Members of Parliament have enjoyed a system of expenses whereby they can claim for nearly every cost of living: from second homes to food and utilities. The true level of this feeding-trough has recently been blown wide by the press (who subsequently have been enjoying their own self-congratulatory feast, but that is another post.)

But, I think the UK get the web, probably because it’s used to dealing with powerful media. I follow Number 10 Downing Street (the metonymic residence of the Prime Minister) on twitter. No 10 doesn’t say much, and I don’t think it’s going to expose any state secrets, but I like the fact that it’s there to be engaged. The Office of Public Sector Information (OPSI) hosts an important blog which outlines the government’s plans to expose public data for normal, every-day citizens to have a play with and to see what’s going on.

And, in the last few weeks, the Prime Minister himself has turned himself around almost 180º in my personal opinion. He represents a party for whom I have less time than either of the other major contenders, and I’ve rather lazily accepted him as an incompetent oaf. But, he’s finally earned my pint and invite to dinner, if not my vote (if any of his secretaries are reading this, just tweet your acceptance, and I’ll find some pheasants and Pinotage). A few weeks ago, he appointed Sir Tim Berners-Lee to a Parliamentary advisory role with the explicit intention of opening up and pushing public data online. This is a major point, because it leads to transparency through public accountability. There seems to be a movement for Parliament to see public data as belonging to the people who bought it with their taxes, and this seems to be the most democratic way to see it. His recent TED talk also made me think he’s got a lot more to say than he perhaps has to date; though I think many of his points raise more questions than they answer.

Much has been said in the online world about the new American administration’s use of social media and the web to mobilise supporters during the election. But there hasn’t been much since. President Obama launched data.gov, but there is very little data there. I think the web is seen as a tool for messages, as a part of a bigger campaign, and as a security breach. It’s something to be used with your own agenda, and only under one’s own strict parameters. And, perhaps most non-democratically, it’s been used to broadcast and to cajole—It has not been used to engage. The fact that social media have barely been touched since the election could point to a wider attitude that citizens only matter for the brief time they’re required to vote.

The UK has already exposed much of its public data, and it’s planning to publish more and more as Linked Data (machine-readable, immediately useful resources), and it’s made plans to be more open, grasping the web and the transparency it’s brought through the hard lessons that spin is impossible with a well-informed citizenry, and on the Open Web, there is less room for your own message than there is for humanity.

*mythos is greek for “story”, and it is from that perspective I use the word myth: that it conveys the notion of a commonly-held understanding, not that it is entirely fantastic or without truth.

It’s America’s Question Time

// November 1st, 2008 // Comments // Topical, emergent

Image via Wikipedia

(Update: Youtube clip added at bottom of post)

This morning, after switching on the kettle, I set my laptop on the kitchen counter and shuffled through the BBC iPlayer’s “Factual” category—looking for something interesting to keep me company as I made my porridge and coffee. I stumbled across Question Time, and noticed that this special edition was being broadcast from the United States—something to do with an election? I was more thrilled that the entire panel was American, with the notable exception of a personal hero of mine, British professor of history at Columbia University Simon Schama.

Things, however, did not go according to plan, and I was very soon restraining myself from damaging my employers’ Macbook with the wooden spoon I’d shortly before been using to stir my porridge. After realising that unless I switched off the iPlayer in short order, I’d either have to remove the spoon from the screen or my clenched teeth.

I took a minute to reflect at my reaction.

I had lasted through only a few answers to the first question.

As a quick introduction to Question Time, for my American readers—clearly something the audience at this recording had been denied—the format of the programme is straightforward and effective. David Dimbleby chairs a panel of note-worthies, and selects from a series of questions submitted by the audience for the panel to answer one by one. It is a political programme which has featured many of the most important British figures including Tony Blair—while still Prime Minister. The panel usually consists of a politician or two, a political theorist or commentator (often an academic) and, often, a slightly more off-beat character such as Ian Hislop.

“Which candidate does the panel believe could and would restore America’s battered image abroad?”

Simon Schama: “Barak Obama”

Appreciative applause.

The historian then outlined his reasoning that the Democratic candidate’s heterogeneous past and perspective of global citizenship could only help America’s “perhaps undeserved” tarnished foreign reputation. Specifically, Schama noted, the rhetoric of war as a last resort rather than an elective option could play an important role in diplomatic relationships.

One of the other panelists, this time from a more Republican-friendly platform, stated that he believed John McCain would fulfill this role more effectively.

Cheering, whooping, and a few boos.

The panelist then went on to outline why he thought the reputation of the US is not tarnished in some places abroad, and that many African nations actually admire American foreign policy. He also stated that Iraq could turn out to be a dramatic success… each of the rest of the panelists listing their preferences and reasoning.

Several audience members were then asked their views, and this is when my breakfast  began to take a less supportive role in my morning. One particular man was asked who he’d like to see in the White House, and his response of “John McCain” brought whoops and cheers before he could speak more of his mind.

Unfortunately, however, he did speak more.

With a notably impressive display of condescending superiority, the gentleman in an expensive suit addressed Simon Schama, beginning with: “You’re a typical professor. You are it. With all respect, our country is not hated overseas, I’ve been to fifty-five countries…” continuing that the US “brings hope to people” and that it is not hated overseas. “We’re the most charitable nation on earth, as evidenced by George Bush, and all the work he did…”

His tone then took on a challenging note: “with all respect, don’t talk about our country being villafied overseas, when we are respected and loved by millions of people BECAUSE OF WHAT WE DO FOR THEM.” [emphasis his, as he shouted over the cascade of applause and the chairman's attempts to direct the discussion.] “AND WE DIE FOR THEM, AND WE DIE FOR THEM.”

I was already impressed by this increasingly visceral outburst, when he capped his performance with a patronisingly disgusted gesture allowing the typical professor his reply. As Schama began his response, the suited gentleman continued his statement, raising his voice over the top of audience and Schama… and it all continued to escelate until eventually, Shcama was able to say “if I’m a typical professor, you’re a typical blowhard; let me finish.”

The spoon, by now, was nowhere near the pan, and I found myself gawping at the screen in irrational hope that the man would shut up.

The problem, from my perspective, is not about which candidate wins this election, nor from which side of an all-but-imaginary political fence one happens to stare through. The problem is the offensive-defence of American rhetoric. It’s pre-emptive, visceral, and primitive. It makes respectable-looking people speak without thought. It damages credibility, and makes the speaker look like a bafoon. And I know it well.

Having been raised in the States, I know the blood-pounding-in-the-ears nature of political discussion. The goal is to be right, absolutely; and to make sure anyone watching—and, if possible the opponent himself—knows you’re the right one. The problem with this is that facts are tactical, discussion conduit, and people incedental. It’s all a vehicle for your personal perspective (the right one) to be broadcast with as little ambiguity as possible. And it might even lead to interesting dichotomies and contrasts if it wasn’t all done  under the influence of adrenaline.

You see, from an outsiders’ perspective, this suited businessman illustrated America. “We’re right!” “We’re the most charitable!” “We fought for you!” “We freed Iraq, goddammit!” and: “We’re not hated abroad! Don’t tell me we’re hated, don’t YOU talk about OUR country…” The logical, conscious part of any discussion is abandoned, and it’s down to bare-knuckles. “I can’t understand your words, man, cause my ears are throbbing, so I’m gunna SHOUT at you so I can hear my OWN damn voice!”

My response surprised me: I tsked, and muttered: “typical American, can’t see he’s trying to tell the world what it thinks.” I appreciated the irony of this hateful person insisting we’re not hated. I found the fact that a professor’s extraordinary career and the phrase “with all due respect” could be used as conduits for hatred exquisitely funny. I would have laughed and enjoyed a British moment of personal, quiet exultation in the foolishness of the speaker if it hadn’t been for one thing.

The audience.

The audience rose to this diatribe with a fervency of whooping, cheering, clapping and shouting. The whole place suddenly became a bowl of people shouting down the suited man, the panel, Dimbleby and each other. I stood gobsmacked in my kitchen, spoon dripping oats onto the cat and begged God not to let any of my friends watch this.

Until Americans are willing to put emotional defensiveness and denial aside from their rhetoric, there will be a continued decline in their perception overseas, regardless of their political opinions, good deeds or noble willingness of sacarifice. America, as an entity, is hated by some people overseas. We need to deal with it, not shout them down or question their right to not like us very much (and, by God, they have such rights).

And, the question came again to me: “Where are all the considerate, contempletative Americans I knew growing up? Where are the people who give more generously than any other nation? Where are the peace-makers and volunteers? Where are the AIDs workers, teachers, and nurses?” I only pray that when the hubris of the TV-talkers dies, the dignity I know lives on in the US is left standing.

Update:

The incident I spoke of has obviously stricken a chord with others, because it’s appeared on Youtube:

British Coffee

// October 5th, 2008 // Comments // like

I’ve recently become something of a coffee guru at work. If this is a life goal for anyone, I have some very simple advice: buy some good coffee, and get some evangelical people addicted. The latest convert to the creative coffee cult is a designer called Chris (@cwaring). Coffee has brought a lot of joy to our office environment, and even made some of the Marketing banter reasonably bearable. It’s also apparently increased the design team’s productivity by 40%—though, since he was shaking noticeably when using the spreadsheet, I’m not sure that statistic can be completely trusted.

There is quite a strange relationship with coffee in Britain. On one hand, there is an overwhelming love of hot beverages. I remember helping out a mate with his garden on a  30º+ muggy summer afternoon, only to be offered a cuppa during a break. Setting aside bleach or glyphosate, I couldn’t think of anything less appropriate to drink on such an occasion. This love of hot drinks extends to family visits, dinner parties, breaks and any time when it is not virtually impossible to hold a mug. All in all, I think this is fantastic, and happily gather round the kettle whenever it’s possible (and less than torrid outside).

The other side of coffee is the British Imported Coffee Culture (BICC, henceforth). BICC exhibits itself in high-street chain-shops which all have a ever-so-slightly different angle on Seattle/Italian café chic. Strangely, most of the actual beverages from these shops seem to come from the same bean and machine combination. The atmosphere is identical, with a dominant shade of maroon, brown, blue or green making the atmospheric colour-branding the only discernable characteristic. To the consternation of conservative Brits the country over, each also has its own opaque size-referencing system designed to confuse and belittle the shop patron who inevitably ends up asking: “But, which is the Small one?”

It’s as if the BICC cartel (Bi3C, maybe?), gathered at some point in the early 2000’s and set down some industry guidelines. Firstly, because the British palette has been evolved around the flavours of milky tea and biscuits, the BICC beverages must avoid shocking customers by being essentially flavourless. Any foreign smart-arses asking for espresso will be greeted with a small glass of burnt tea leaves suspended in hot dishwater. Secondly, all baked goods (which are mandatory at a proper café) shall be supplied from a limited BICC-approved list of bakeries, and shall consist of huge, greasy muffins and strangely-contrived cake combinations like apricot and prune biscotti brownies—the more creative and unlikely combinations to be considered for annual prizes. Third: wherever possible, a smattering of faux-italiano shall be displayed and worked into the patois of serving staff (e.g. baristas), to cover any coffee blunders with an embarrassing cultural ambiguity. And, finally, because this is all imported and frightfully expensive-sounding, we shall be setting the prices for beverages, baked goods, and sandwiches at just below the cost of the weekly shopping. The business logic for this last point, as you can see from the PowerPoint presentation, is that people aspiring to the middle and upper classes will gladly pay extortionate cultural tariffs to appear coffee-literate.

Thus it was that the executive classes of Britain were won over to incredibly expensive milk, with a small addition of highly-addictive coffee made with impressive-looking but fully-automatic espresso machine monsters served by smiling, aproned baristas. (Incidentally, the term went down a storm at the cafe I worked at during University, since it was very near the Royal Courts of Justice, and many of the customers were barristers.)

Not happy with their strangle-hold on Britain’s purchasers of pin-stripes, however, BICC soon began infiltrating more reputable establishments. I know that the transformation of Imported Coffee Culture is more or less complete, now, since I was recently offered a “mochacino-latte” at a seaside chip shop. (After seeing the BICC-branded instant beverage machine behind the counter littered with polystyrene cups and a suspicious powder, I declined). These shops and places of amusement have opted for a lighter touch, however, and have begun simply calling it “froffy coffee”. The Froffee Coffee is a uniquely British indulgence consisting mainly of powdered milk sprayed through a plastic nozzle into a brown concentrate. The resulting chemical reactions produce a strangely petroleum-flavoured foam atop an instant-coffee. If you’d like to make it a “somethingcino”, the logic goes, you simply add a few tablespoons of drinking chocolate powder to the foam, cup, napkin and surrounding customers.

As far as I have been able to work out, most Brits are still impressed by a cafetiere, or anything which can be labelled “Proper Coffee”. Proper Coffee, like the Froffee Coffee, is a British sobriquet which applies to any coffee not made by adding boiling water to brown granules. I suspect that in some households, the granules placed in a coffee pot rather than directly into a mug might actually qualify.

I have decided, as a public service, to challenge the BICC, the Froffee Coffee and the Proper Coffee by outlining a few simple ways to experience the bliss of proper coffee (note lack of capitalisation).

• Beans
• Grinder
• Cafetiere/coffee press

It’s dead simple, really. Buy some beans, and don’t cry when you pay for them. A bag of Union Hand Roasted beans (more on them in another blog post, no doubt) will set you back for about the same cost as a single higher-priced drink at your local BICC establishment. I’ve heard that they can be found in Sainsbury or in Waitrose, though I order mine from their site.

Buy a coffee grinder. I’ve encountered the myth that grinders are incredibly expensive. I think the only power behind this is that no one seems to own one, making them seem rare and exclusive: here’s one for just over a tenner. You don’t need anything fancy, though if you want one that matches your Chi, you’re probably reading the wrong blog anyway.

Finally, a cafetiere, or coffee-press. As my family in the US calls them: French Press—possibly now the “Freedom Press, but I can’t be sure because I don’t watch Fox News.

That’s it. Now, grind the fresh beans (don’t keep them more than about a fortnight) until they’re “coursly ground”. It should look like sand, but not flour. I find in my grinder that between 6 and 10 seconds seems to work nicely. Boil the kettle, and pour a bit into the cafetiere in order to warm it up… pour this out and add the grounds. You’ll want 4-6 good-sized tablespoonfulls of grounds for a four-cup press. Add the slightly off-boil water and stir it so all the beans are nicely wet. Put the lid on, and wait about 4 minutes, then plunge and serve immediately.

That’s it. Proper coffee that tastes wonderful. A few additional things: clean your cafetiere thoroughly, and don’t fall for the myth that washing-up liquid is bad for them. You need to clean the oils off the mesh, or it’ll go rancid. Dont keep beans for more than a fortnigh: but for that short period, keep them in an air-tight container in a cool, dry place.

I’m hoping that’s helpful, and that you try it. If you want any more advice on roast, tastes, or what to look for in a nice bean, just drop me a line. If this post sounds slightly bitter, it’s because I just ran out of my Brazilian Bourbon from Union Hand Roast, and I’m less than happy about it.

Jacqui Smith’s New Immigration Measures are a pointless Gesture…

// February 22nd, 2008 // Comments // Uncategorized

Blogging about politics can be a bit of a mixed bag, so we’ll see how it goes. I want to avoid polarising talk, tabloid tactics, and FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt). Instead, I’d like to discuss the latest raft of changes which seek to make immigrants ‘more British’ before offering them citizenship.

Personal Perspective

First, and as a matter of context: I am an immigrant. I was born and raised in Colorado, USA, and have lived in the UK for the last 5 years or so. My national identity, however, is a more complicated matter. I resonate politically better with Britain than the United States. I admire more British personages than American (probably due to the fact that the only great Americans I can think to name are either dead or long dead…). I laugh at British comedians, and listen to Radio 4. I queue. I share the occasional withering glance  with my fellow public transport passengers whenever a tourist declares loudly that something is cute or quaint. I even say: "Oh, excuse me, sorry" when someone else runs into me at Sainsburys, and I say "Cheers" or "Ta" even when someone should be thanking me.

This has put me in an interesting position at times. I have been part of conversations when the other party doesn’t actually know, or momentarily forgets, that I grew up singing The Star-Spangled Banner before watching baseball.

"Well, I think Americans are rude and ignorant".

"Oh?" I say.

"Yes, they’re always going on about how small everything is and they don’t know where Somerset is."

"I know where Somerset is, and I have been asked where Shropshire is by Londoners," I reply.

"Oh, but you’re different. You’re not really American. You don’t have an accent… and you’re don’t think I’m cute.

"Quite"

Immigration in the UK

I get the feeling that many mainstream British ideas are fairly far removed from immigrants as people. There is a distinct themness about immigrants, and I think this notion is exploited by politicians and commentators who have to justify their cynical existences. Over the past five years, I have learned that immigration is ranked among education and health in the national psyche, and politicians who want need to be seen doing something can easily turn to immigration policy for support. This national concern for immigration is baffling.  According to the National Statistics Office, less than 10% of the UK population were foreign born in 2006. (In the US, for the same year the number was nearly 14%). So, less than one in ten people in the UK are foreign born, and even fewer of those have recourse to public funds, yet this ranks among Education and Health?

I can see that there is cause for thought, cause for discussion, but not cause for concern. A study for the OECD stated: “the ratio of immigrants (no matter how defined) has grown steadily in all Western European countries considered, except Belgium.”1 So, immigration is definitely on the rise, and I don’t debate that. However, most of them have the sense not to move to Belgium so they can’t be all bad. The flip side of this is that immigration has actually increased the UK economic growth rate, according to the TUC. There is, I feel, cause for concern in that the general public does not understand immigration all that well as outlined by a brilliant article from the sometimes-inflammatory Independent: "Lies, Damned Lies and Immigration".

Now, what has really got me angry is the new scheme from Jacqui Smith, Home Secretary, that immigrants will have to work harder to "earn their right to become UK citizens".  (Press Coverage: Telegraph, Guardian, Times and BBC) and it includes increasing the time before a migrant can be naturalised and an increased fee. Gordon Brown has also mentioned, according to Radio 4 reports and the Times (see link above) that immigrants should have to undertake community service to be introduced to the British Way of Life.

Let me explore that a bit:

Money

It costs a fortune to immigrate to the UK. I am American, and chose to move to the UK for love –my wife is British. I like it here, but it is an expensive place to live. Tax is high, services are expensive, and it is required of an Immigrant to pay large sums of money every few years. I should mention that I have been paying UK income tax  and national insurance despite being unable to access public funds for some of my immigration journey and that I attended a UK university after marrying and immigrating, and paid full fees (during the time, around £9k/year) so none of my education was subsidised by any taxes I have paid.

The cost of visas and fees is high, indeed. There is a cost for the initial visiting Visa to get married (currently £500) which lets you stay here for 6 months, without recourse to public funds. You then must apply for temporary residency (£395) which lasts for a couple years. Then, if you want indefinite leave to remain (and if you don’t, you’ll need to sort out alternative accommodation fast) it will cost you £750. I’ve paid each of them, one after the other every few  months or years. The total: £1645, and I’m still not a citizen. If I want to become one, I still have to pay £9.99 for a book on what it means to be British (Ha!), £34 to take a citizenship test (which most UK citizens can’t actually pass) and a massive £655 for the application. Then I’d be invited to attend a citizenship ceremony at which I will be required to pledge an oath, and I haven’t found out if that costs me more yet… new total? £2343.99, and Jacqui Smith wants more. I see this as a combination of four distinct ideas, blended in a dangerous cocktail:

• A genuine need for money to run immigration services
• A cash-cow for a cash-greedy government
• A political scapegoat for opportunistic political figures
• A Protection Racket, where people who are legally seeking residence are exploited with the threat of having their life plans crushed

British Way of Life

What, exactly did Gordon Brown mean when he said he was thinking of having immigrants doing more in the community? I am assuming he did not mean most of the plumbing, or supplementing the taxes for an aging population. For clarity, let me say that these proposed changes will have no effect on the most discussed group of migrants: Eastern Europeans. They already have access to the country through the EU and do not need to pay all the clearance fees. So, making all the non EU migrants do community service will help them to understand what it means to be British? I would have thought a crash-course in happy slapping or under-aged drinking would have been more apt. How many British people do you know who do community service?The most illuminating illustration I heard about the preposterousness of this was a commentator on Radio 4 who pointed out that Abu Hamza (hook-handed, one-eyed favourite of the Sun headlines and controversial fundamentalist cleric of Finsbury Park mosque) could have been said to have been active in his community, and undertook volunteer work. Gordon Brown’s government has already implemented a Britishness test (see link in previous paragraph) which is so patronising and oblique I don’t know what it is for. Some of the facts you are expected to know (Taken directly off the test site):

• Where have migrants come from in the past and why? What sort of work have they done?
• Do women have equal rights in voting, education and work, and has this always been the case? (What does this have to do with Britishness? Do we need to know that we were tardy giving women the vote, that there is still a disgraceful gender pay gap or that women are under-represented in all aspects of public society? Surely we don’t want Migrants thinking about that too much?)
• When do children take tests at school? How many go on to higher education? (This changes every couple years, drastically.)
• Do many children live in single parent families or step-families? (Any ideas? Have a guess…2,672,000 dependent children in single parent families, according to the National Statistics Office. Bet you didn’t know that.)
• How many people belong to an ethnic minority and which are the largest minority groups? Where are there large ethnic communities?
• And finally, my favourite: Where are Geordie, Cockney and Scouse dialects spoken? (I’d have said North London, where you can hear quite a few more than that, just on one street!)

Finally, Timing

Is one extra year without citizenship going to make any difference to society? The people who want to become citizens have already been inundated with extortionate fees, made to feel unwelcome, and made to wait for more than 5 years for a passport and the right to vote. These people are already here, and cannot have broken any residence laws anyway. It will not effect illegal immigrants, assylum seekers, EU Immigrants, Non-doms (stupid name that sounds like condom every time a news-reader says it!) or terrorists. They will have been working and paying tax, and are likely to work in jobs not filled by Britain’s workforce anyway (According to TUC report). One more year without representation or a passport  is an easy way for Jacqui Smith to appear tougher on immigration without changing the numbers at all. It is a meaningless gesture, which only benefits a small number of wealthy politicians seeking to look tough and adds months of difficulty for normal people.

1: "Labour market outcomes of natives and immigrants: Evidence from the European Community Household Panel", Franco Peracchi and Domenico Depalo, OECD, 2006, p1, Quoted from TUC paper on Immigration, see hyperlink within text.

Can we finally just watch TV online?

// February 1st, 2008 // Comments // Uncategorized

Watching TV online is becoming a bit of a hobby of mine.  I don’t have a TV anywhere in the house, and it is just so much more convenient to be able to watch what I want, when I do, without  having to play around with channels or digital interfaces which seem built to be slow (i.e. digital TV). Early efforts to watch online were riddled with frustration. I trialled Joost along with however many millions of others who signed up for a Beta invite, but found the system clunky and without real appeal in the frankly poor content. Also, it was a memory hog and froze my then-ageing Dell. There was also the problem with pirates and ‘linked TV’ Not only is there the conscience to console, but one popular link site, tv-links.co.uk, actually landed its founder in prison. YouTube only provides short clips, or pirated episodes which are quickly removed by moderators.

So, where does that leave the casual TV-watcher? With all the early difficulty of installing software, finding Betas, or perusing content which either didn’t work or you didn’t want to play, it seemed that watching tv-quality content online has always been a struggle. With new improvements, though, can you actually watch TV online easily and relatively free from frustration? I think it’s getting there.

UK TV Online

First, I’d like to note that I will be avoiding Hulu and any discussion of it aside from mentioning that it doesn’t work in the UK. Both of the services reviewed below, to be fair to US readers, currently only work in the UK.

BBC: iPlayer

The British Broadcasting Corporation produces high-quality tv and radio content, and, because if its unique funding contains no advertisements. The aim of the iPlayer is to provide access to all BBC content for up to seven days following broadcast. The player itself is Flash-based and inside the browser, with full-screen capability.

The menu system is intuitive and simple. You can navigate by channel (there are several BBC channels, including dedicated children’s and world news stations), category, show title or by broadcast day–up to seven previous. The Flash interface allows a quick summary view of each show, with a still image or a show logo. Clicking on any icon will bring up a summary and a playing screen which waits for you to choose to start. (NB: I’m using the Kwout service for the clickable image on the left. For more about it see R/WW’s writeup here.)

One slightly annoying feature is a lack of ‘Back’ function. If you choose a show you decide not to watch, you either have to go back using the browser (slightly risky with Flash) or re-navigate using one of the categorisation options. The image and sound quality of the content is excellent, though, and the overall feel of the interface is brilliant.

Viewers have the option of streaming content or downloading it for later watching (though the DRM allows it to show for only up to the 7-day deadline). The download feature works exclusively with Internet Explorer, though Firefox or Opera work fine for streaming. Each episode also seems to have a permalink system, so, provided you are within the 7-day restriction, you can share content using links.

My initial impressions of the iPlayer are all positive. The content is not compromised: it shows all BBC materiel. The 7-day limit seems fair for free content, and the player works very well indeed. The quality of the interface and of the actual content is uncompromising, and you can actually sit down, choose a programme, and watch it.

Well, mostly…

Although most of the time it works that way, if you are on restricted bandwidth, you are out of luck. All that quality really costs to deliver in terms of download speeds. I am fortunate to now live in a relatively uninhabited corner of these crowded Isles, so I can watch the iPlayer at more or less any time. At my previous house in the South-East, however, my ISP could only provide me with a 1MG connection or less during high-traffic times. Even now, however, I can experience that horrible Flash loading circle, and it tends to continue circling once its’ started.

This aspect of the iPlayer has caused something of a national stir. It has been reported that ISP’s are demanding the BBC actually cover the cost of more people using more bandwidth due to watching content online. I can’t say I see the ISP’s logic in this one. After all, they are being paid to provide access to the internet, and most have limited policies or “Fair Use” declarations anyway. What it has done, however, is to highlight the lack of bandwidth for current and future-looking applications. Anyway, the iPlayer uses bandwidth, and if you haven’t got it, you will spend a lot of time watching the Flash snake chasing its own tail and not a whole lot more.

One more item I’ve come across is the Player’s annoying habit of occasionally just not working. In general, the content loads, and you can play, pause, and re-wind with impunity. Every so often, however, it will fail to load with a friendly but less-than-helpful explanation:

4OD

Channel 4, which is a traditional broadcaster alongside BBC’s terrestrial channels, has launched its own online service titled 4OD (4 On Demand). The flavour of Channel 4 has always been different from the BBC, and these differences can be seen in the service. Whereas the iPlayer is a flash-based, in-browser player, 4OD  requires download and installation. It only currently works with Windows XP or Vista, and also requires Internet Explorer and Windows Media Player to be installed on the system. After install, the 4OD service adds itself to the startup, and users will see a Channel 4 tray icon after startup, and the service is launched from the system tray. Double-clicking the icon or right-clicking and selecting “Open 4OD” will result in a full-screen browser which allows you to select content to watch.

4OD allows free viewing of shows for 30 days after airing, and the ability to rent other content including full-length feature films. Prices for renting range from £.99 to £2.99. Content can be streamed live or downloaded for viewing later. The content presented, however, is slightly confusing. Although you can search by category, name, or price, you can often find content which is free to view, regardless of when it was aired. So some content, aired long before 30-days ago, can sometimes be seen and streamed. You can also feel a bit lost in the full-screen, especially when the service asks you to sign in to view a programme. This leads me conveniently on to another point, which is that  viewers are required to register for 4OD’s service in order to stream or download. The browser forgets that you are signed in within the space of a half-hour show, and requires another login to watch something else– and this can grow tedious.

The actual player is Windows Media Player (Version 10+) which means that the content is streamed in a high-quality interface with familiar controls. Shows can be paused, rewound and re-played, and the sound quality seems good (as good as my stock Dell speakers can produce anyway). You also never see that annoying Flash loading circle which is often present with the iPlayer. That’s not to say it loads perfectly every time, as it can glitch and pause too, it just does it Windows-style: by freezing and becoming unresponsive. It also has its own special, unhelpful error messages:

iPlayer and 4OD: side by side

Although fundamentally providing a similar service, 4OD and the iPlayer have a differing ethos and presentation. iPlayer is in-browser and can be accessed from multiple platforms (though its initial launch was XP-only and required a download), while 4OD is locked into a single platform and even set up (i.e. you have to use IE). 4OD allows more content to be broadcast, and even makes old content available for hire, so that you can watch virtually everything they offer. BBC iPlayer only lets you watch 7 days’ worth of footage, and is notoriously stingy with old content. Because they cannot charge for their content, the BBC is unlikely to jeopardise their TV viewings (which fund the Corporation through UK TV licenses), but rather seems aimed at offering a complimentary service.

Aesthetically, the two services are very different. The iPlayer looks sleek, simple, and high-quality. Its interface is intuitive, and works well for the limited content available. 4OD’s interface is scattered and complicated, and requires a full-screen view to show all its various content. 4OD is also slightly more difficult to navigate, and feels slightly less stable. The use of background images in the 4OD reminds me of MySpace, and the content can be visually busy. The iPlayer, likewise, could be favourably compared to the simplicity of Facebook–only black. It would interest me to see a study comparing viewer demographics of the two services, because Channel 4 has always presented a gritty, reality-driven face in its content, and is opposed to the high-brow nature or sophistocation of the BBC, and I wonder if this would compare to the demographics of Facebook vs Myspace.

Both of these services lack something fundamental, however, which mark them as being slightly too proprietary. They are offering TV online, without many benefits from the new medium. You can’t share the programmes easily, nor is there the ability to tag or comment Although the iPlayer has a form of permalink, it only lasts until that programme reaches its 7-day use by date. The DRM on the content is tight, and limits the time for watching. The BBC in particular has grasped the nettle of the web with its excellent online presence, but its iPlayer is simply TV. This is the web as a platform without what makes the web, the web. However, with that said, the exact thing which makes these services somewhat workable is that they finally work. For years, you had to put up with ridiculous loading times, pauses, glitches and second-rate content. Now, most of the time, you can choose a full-length programme and watch it in relatively high-quality video. There is still a long way to go while TV online finds its feet, but at least we can  finally sit back and enjoy the wait.

Zach Beauvais
www.zachbeauvais.com