
The internet, its many evangelists tell us, is the answer to all our problems. It gives power to the people.
It’s
a platform for equality that allows everyone an equal share in life’s
riches. For the first time in history, anyone can produce, say or buy
anything.
But today, as the internet heads towards putting more than half the world’s population online, all this promise has evaporated.
The dream has become a nightmare, in which I fear we billions of network users are victims, not beneficiaries.
In
our super-connected 21st-century world, rather than promoting economic
fairness, the net is a central reason for the growing gulf between rich
and poor and the hollowing out of the middle classes.
Rather
than generating more jobs, it is - as I will explain - a cause of
unemployment. Rather than creating more competition, it has created
immensely powerful new monopolists such as Google and Amazon in a
winner-takes-all economy.
Its
cultural ramifications are equally chilling. Rather than creating
transparency and openness, it secretly gathers information and keeps a
watch on each and every one of us.
You need
only have read the stories this month about how smart TVs can spy on us
in our living rooms to realise that Orwell’s vision in Nineteen
Eighty-Four, of a Big Brother society, is becoming a reality.
Because
such TVs are connected to the internet, they can watch us and listen to
us, then beam that information around the world for companies to use
for commercial gain.
And thanks to the explosion in social media, rather than creating more democracy, the internet is empowering mob rule.
This
month, after years of social networks being scarred by appalling
personal abuse and bullying - leading to several suicides - Twitter,
which has 288 million users a month, finally admitted there was ‘no
excuse’ for its failure to stop its users sending vile messages to the
targets of their hatred.
The company’s boss, Dick Costolo, admitted: ‘I’m frankly ashamed at how poorly we’ve dealt with this issue. It’s absurd.’
But the
hidden negatives outweigh the positives. Under our noses, one of the
biggest ever shifts in power between people and big institutions is
taking place, disguised in the language of inclusion and transparency.
Rather
than providing a public service, the architects of our digital future
are building a society that is a disservice to almost everyone except a
few powerful, wealthy owners.
It’s
easy to forget the crusading intentions with which the internet
revolution began. But then the mantle passed from the techno wizards and
visionaries to businessmen.
The internet lost a sense of common purpose, a general decency, perhaps even its soul. Money replaced all these things.
Amazon
reflects much of what has gone wrong. Now by far the dominant internet
retailer, it has achieved this position by crushing or acquiring its
competitors and selling everything it can lay its hands on.
It
has felt the need to expand so ruthlessly because in its type of
e-commerce, margins are extremely tight and economies of scale vital.
In 2013, Amazon made sales of $75 billion (£49 billion) but returned a profit of just $274 million (£178 million).
To
succeed, it has to make itself a virtual monopoly, stifling rivals
along the way. Inside the company this is known as the Gazelle Project,
after founder Jeff Bezos instructed one of his staff that ‘Amazon should
approach small book publishers the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly
gazelle’.
The book
trade - which is where Amazon began - was initially quite enthusiastic
about the new arrival but now sees it as a predator as shops close down,
unable to compete.
In Britain there are fewer than 1,000 bookshops left, down a third in a decade.
As
Amazon expands into more retail sectors - from clothing, electronics
and toys to garden furniture and jewellery - it is having the same
effect there.
The
impact on jobs is huge. While bricks-and-mortar retailers employ 47
people for every £65 million in sales, Amazon employs just 14, making it
a job-killer rather than a job-creator.
‘Robotisation’
in its warehouses may reduce job numbers even further, until eventually
Amazon eliminates the human factor from shopping completely. The
‘Everything Store’ is becoming the ‘Nobody store’.
Then
there is Google, which discovered the holy grail of the information
economy with its search engine sifting and indexing the mass of digital
material on the worldwide web.
Last
year Google processed 40,000 search queries a second, equal to 1.2
trillion searches a year. It controls around two-thirds of searches
globally, with 90 per cent dominance in markets such as Italy and Spain.
The service is free to use. Advertising pays the bills and makes the profits.
The
irony is that Google was invented by a couple of idealistic computer
science graduate students who so mistrusted advertisements that they
banned them on their homepage. Now it is by far the largest and most
powerful advertising company in history, valued at over £260 billion.
Unlike
Amazon, its profits are mind-bogglingly high. In 2013, it returned
nearly £10billion for its investors, from revenues of nearly £39billion.
And
Google’s power increases every time we access it. Its search engine
becomes more knowledgeable and useful the more it is used. Every time we
make a Google search, we are helping it to grow the product.
Even
more valuable, from Google’s point of view, is what it learns about us.
And Google, for better or worse, never forgets. All our digital trails
are crunched to provide Google and its corporate clients with our
so-called ‘data exhaust’.
From
this concept other internet services have developed, including
Facebook, Wikipedia, the business networking site LinkedIn, and
self-publishing platforms such as Twitter and YouTube.
Most
pursue a Google-style strategy of giving away their tools and services
free, relying on advertising sales for revenue. In the process, they
have created significant wealth for their founders and investors.
On the surface, this seems like a win for everyone. We all get free internet tools and the entrepreneurs become super-rich.
But
there is a catch. All of us are, in fact, working for Facebook and
Google for nothing, manufacturing the very personal data that makes
these companies so valuable.
The
result is another massive loss of jobs. Google needs to employ only
46,000 people, compared with an industrial giant like General Motors,
which is worth just a seventh of Google’s £260 billion but employs just
over 200,000 people in its factories.
For
all the claims that the internet has created more equal opportunity and
distribution of wealth, the new economy actually resembles a doughnut —
with a gaping hole in the middle where millions of workers were once
paid to manufacture products.
Take
the photo app Instagram, which allows anyone to share their own snaps
online for others to see. When it was sold to Facebook for £651 million
in 2012, it had just 13 full-time employees. Meanwhile, Kodak was
closing 13 factories and 130 photo labs and laying off 47,000 workers.
Or
WhatsApp, the instant messaging platform for which Facebook paid £12.4
billion. In one month it handled 54 billion messages from its 450
million users, yet it employs only 55 people to manage its service.
That’s because we are the ones doing most of the work. In this e-world, the quality of the technology is secondary.
What’s
important — and what is actually being traded when these companies
change hands — is you and me: our labour, our productivity, our network,
our supposed creativty.
Yet
for our input in adding intelligence to Google, or content to Facebook,
we are paid nothing, merely being granted the right to use the software
free. And that’s what is driving the new ‘data factory’ economy.
The whole
point of the free Instagram app is to mine its users’ data. Our photos
reveal to Instagram more and more about our tastes, our movements, our
friends. The app in effect reverses the camera lens.
We
think we are using Instagram to look at the world, but actually we are
the ones being watched. And the more we reveal about ourselves, the more
valuable we become to advertisers.
From
social media networks such as Twitter and Facebook to Google, the
world’s second most valuable company, the exploitation of our personal
information is what counts. These companies want to know us so
intimately so they can package us up and, without our consent, sell us
back to advertisers.
Another
great irony in all this is that the internet was created by
public-minded technologists such as the English academic Professor Sir
Tim Berners-Lee, inventor of the World Wide Web, who were all
indifferent to money, sometimes even hostile to it.
Yet
the internet they produced with such high humanitarian hopes has
triggered one of the greatest accumulations of wealth in human history.
Jeff
Bezos has made £19.5 billion from his Amazon Everything Store that
offers cheaper prices than its rivals. Facebook co-founder Mark
Zuckerberg has accumulated his £19.5 billion by making money out of
friendship.
In
25 years, the internet has gone from the initial idealistic banning of
all forms of commerce to transforming absolutely everything into
profitable activity. Especially our privacy.
Tim
Berners-Lee never imagined that his ‘social’ creation to help people to
work together more easily could be used so cynically, both by private
companies and by governments. Yet that’s what is happening.
As
the internet transforms every electronic object into a connected
device, we are drifting into a world where everything — our fitness,
what we eat, our driving habits, how hard we work — can be profitably
quantified by companies such as Google.
Faceless
data-gatherers wearing all-seeing electronic glasses watch our every
move. Our networked society is like a claustrophobic village pub, a
frighteningly transparent community in which there are no longer any
secrets or any anonymity.
We
are observed by every unloving institution of the new digital
surveillance state, from big data companies and the Government to
insurance companies, healthcare providers and the police.
Google
and Facebook boast that they know us more intimately than we know
ourselves. They know what we did yesterday, today and, with the help of
predictive technology, what we will do tomorrow.
And
it is, frankly, our fault for choosing to live in a crystal republic
where cars, mobile phones and televisions — hooked up to the internet —
watch us.
Far
from being the answer to our problems, the internet, whose pioneers
believed it would save humanity, is diminishing our lives.
Instead
of creating more transparency, we have devices that make the invisible
visible. The sharing economy is really the selfish economy. Social media
is, in fact, anti-social. And the success of the internet is a huge
failure.
#dailymail
No comments:
Post a Comment