EPIGONIC

Old Media, New Media

Some of the digital media cheerleaders out there are so eager to dethrone "old media" and the MSM, but sometimes I worry their plans will neither cure the disease or save the patient, just replace it with something different and maybe worse in some regards.

In short, despite the fact I've made a living in digital media for over a dozen years and consider it my calling, I hope many traditional forms of "old media" won't go away anytime soon or be displaced by new media.

Books, for example. Love them. Not just the narrative form, the linear story, the artful prose, but the form factor of paper and pages and spines and the feel of them and the portability. They just work, have for hundreds of years, I'm not sure whether hyperlinks or digitization would add anything, and I know they might take away a lot. I can't imagine, ever, lying in bed and reading a book on an ereader.

Newspapers, as another example. That business, which employed and employs my father for nearly five decades now, put food on our table when I was a kid and helped put me through college. So there is that bias, yes. But also the depth, the lack of interruption, the form factor again -- whether spreading the paper over the table next to my coffee at breakfast, or reading a redtop, or the Independent, or the Guardian berliner format on the tube, or sitting in a cafe somewhere in the sun parsing through the International Herald Tribune (so snotty sounding, yes, but so pleasing). No distracting hyperlinks, or e-mail chimes, or other nonsense that results in twitching, not reading. I like the purity of the newspaper experience -- reading, thinking, reading some more. 

An aside at this point: I go to Ritual in San Francisco to meet friends now and again, and it's full of people with laptops open cranking on the free wifi. I joked to my friend the other day: "They should put some cubes in here." Sure, I like my wifi in a coffee house now and again. But at Ritual, it's always on: few folks, sometime none, have a newspaper or a book there. That makes me a bit sad, I think they're all missing something really.

Films, on the screen, in a movie theater. Don't care if it's digital or analog, but the traditional experience of seeing a movie with a hundred other people, the community of our common laughter or suppressed gasps. That is nice, it feels human and connected and vibrant in a way that sitting in front of a tv doesn't. I don't ever want that to go away.

I go back and forth on theater. Yes, when great, which is really just in New York or LA or London best of all. But elsewhere?

Most television and music I'm happy to consume in more digital forms, be it DVDs or just bits on an iPod or over IP.

Cinemas, books,  newspapers -- I like them analog, I hope they stay that way.

Powerpoint

In my last two to three years at RealNetworks, I began a personal revolt against powerpoint, in favor of long form memos (which, by the way, I am not sure my colleagues ever read, too little time). I found .ppt often encouraged, and thus resulted in, simplistic analysis and thinking.

What a nice serendipitous moment today when, in the course of some research, came across this recent Tufte essay on .ppt and NASA. Take the time to read his analysis and essay -- it's good -- but for those of you don't have sufficient time or attention for this, here is his conclusion:

Serious problems require a serious tool: written reports.

RIght.

While I am a native inhabitant of this digital world, and make my living from it, I often wonder how much our individual and collective analytical powers, critical thinking skills, and attention spans are being eviscerated by chat, e-mail, fragmented blog posts, mobile text messaging and the hundreds of other activities which overhwelm us.

The click -- on the tv remote, on the mouse, on the next e-mail or blog feed, on the hyperlink -- may be the opiate of our age. No time to digest, only time to consume.

Million Videos Sold

The Internet is a bit abuzz this morning with Apple's announcement that they had sold one million videos in about 20 days since the launch of the video iPod.

Color me skeptical about how meaningful this really is. Having been involved with digital video over Internet since it's inception, and closely involved with the leading video services on the Internet, I continue to doubt whether watching video on small screens (either iPods or mobile phones) will ever become a significant, mainstream activity. Music on portable devices has exploded because the  sound quality is hardly affected; carrying your iPod around is not dissimilar to carrying around a decent stereo.

Not true with video content. It's just not at all like the experience of watching on a television. Of course there are some scenarios where the quality of experience is less important, and portability trumps: say, getting news immediately, wherever you are; or watching music videos (especially if you're a teenager); or some forms of viral video. But I think these are all likely to remain non-mainstream experiences.

Distribution of TV programs via DVD will be the mainstream experience for the foreseeable future. A far more interesting, and beneficial, product from Apple would be a service and hardware combo that allows me to get DVD quality television shows downloaded to my computer, and then relayed via Airport or Airport Express to my television. Lot's of hacks out there for this now, and talk about how to use the Mini. But a simple product that works out of the box combined with quality programming would be a huge step forward, and much more important than what we're seeing with the video iPod.

Brook Farm

Novelist Ian McEwan, in an interview with The Independent, once noted his "distrust of Utopian deams." It was a central theme in his novel Saturday (a book, frankly, somewhat middling quality to McEwan's other novels).

I have thought about the line frequently in the past year as I've gotten re-immersed in the world wide web, and re-immersed as a result in some of the utopianism in the hyping of blogs and participatory media. Two recent bloggers posed good, thoughtful questions about this underlying utopianism: Nicholas Carr's "Amorality of Web 2.0" post (well trod by this point) and Om Malik's piece on "Web 2.0, Community and Commerce."

While they have provoked some good debate, they have also brought out responses from the Utopians. I'll pick on one post in particular which so perfectly captures the rapturousness surrounding participatory media:

There are so many ways we can screw it up. Spam, hate, stupidity, and control can do that. But if everyone behaves the right way, then we create great whole larger than the sums of their parts; every capitalized entity above proves that. But we’re still trying to figure out what the rules are, what “the right way” means.

The truth is that we’re doing nothing less than creating a new society and we’re still figuring out what the rules and economies of that society are.

It's funny, we've seen so much of this before, identical if not in detail at least in spirit: the belief that it was all new, that laws of physics and customs of thousands of years were to be rendered obsolete. We've seen it with the fashionable memes of the moment such as push, e-commerce, community, the new economy, the long tail, "broadband" then "mobile" and so many others.

The truly amusing, if not ironic, thing in all of this millenial, Utopian rhetoric is that it's really been about the money: concocted mostly by our good vc friends and their cohorts the conference organizers, and eagerly embraced by all of us trying to build and sell companies (let's be honest, hardly anyone is building them to go pubic anymore), or to get our companies more highly valued and sell stock, and so on. The Utopianism usually vanishes shortly after the stroke of luck, the stock sale, or the acquisition by Yahoo!/Google/Newscorp. Not that there's anything wrong with that!

If you strip it all down, dump the bullshit meme-hyping and sometimes resulting utopianism, what really matters at the end of the day are the companies who have built things that make our lives better in some significant way. We're willing to use their products or services, even pay for them, despite the fact they make the company's founders into billionaires because they give us something we need or value, and do it so much better than their competitors. We could care less about who owns our clickstreams, or whether we're participating or not.

For me, so far, the list of consumer Internet companies who have done that is astonishingly short: Yahoo! (for the initial free webmail and directory service), Amazon, Google, Apple (for the ipod, natch, and the powerbook), and eBay. They each provided me with a useful service and did it better than what the others offered. The rest -- the endless list of companies and accompanying memes, some of them bought and some of them not -- all sound and fury signifying, for the most part, nothing.

"Talent Will Out"

Or will it?

The "talent will out" claim was made by Barry Diller, at the Web 2.0 conference two weeks ago. (Emily Litella NB: some have written up his remarks at "talent wins out." I am 99% sure I heard him say "talent will out" or "talent always outs." I haven't found a video or audio clip to confirm either way, but the "talent will out" interpretation is more consistent with his subsequent remarks. It's a nuanced point, but an important distinction.)

Diller made this comment in response to a question from Battelle about Newscorp's acquisition of MySpace, and whether there would be a future for "prosumer or user-generated content." Diller said he thought there was a limited amount of talent in the world, and that it was unlikely internet-based platforms such as MySpace would help us to discover a heretofore hidden respository of creative geniuses. For this view, he was widely excoriated by the blogging world and Web 2.0 priesthood as a relic, a media mogul who doesn't get it, a Web 1.0 dinosaur.

I think Diller is right about the likely outcome, but wrong in his reasoning.   Unlike Diller, I would argue there is lots of talent in the world. The issue is that there is a very small pool of talented people who also possess the necessary ambition, time, energy and will to bring their talent to a wider public. And that's not likely to change, even with these new platforms that make it easier for all of us to publish our work, and put our talent on display.

There are common-sense ways to prove this thesis. Start with blogging.  Here is a new medium that should have liberated the masses of talented writers out there waiting to be discovered. But despite the current hypefest around blogging and the near-religious belief by some bloggers that they are poised to topple the grandees of the print media, most blogs are utter crap. None have ever moved or affected me like the best of works in print. Where are these great new talents unleashed by WordPress, Blogger and TypePad?

This isn't to say blogs are unimportant, and won't make a huge impact on the media landscape. They are and they will, but for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with the talent of individual bloggers, and a lot more to do with the wisdom of crowds; getting access to specific information about particular niches; and as a democratic check point to other, more hierarchical forms of media.

There is a second common sense way to prove the thesis. Think about the most talented friends you have. If they are great writers or humorists, are they blogging? If they are blogging, are they putting their best material online? If they make video or audio programming, are they putting that online? Are they even likely to do so?

My personal experience here is that my most talented friends aren't putting their stuff online and won't anytime soon, for one of two reaons. Some won't because, while they do have ambition and will to channel their talent, they are putting their best work into creating books, or films, or radio shows; all mediums that are about showcasing talent (a follow point on that next graph). Others won't because, while they have talent, they just have too much else going on in life, and insufficient ambition and will to use their talents to create something for public consumption. Their talent is channeled into the funny repertoire over dinnner, the occasional great e-mail, or something else wonderful but ephemeral and made just for friends and family.

There is another argument one can make why these new online platforms won't suddenly lead to the discovery of new talent; and that is that they do not make great homes for talented people or the works they produce. I know, that's heresy. But listen: A truly talented person with will and ambition and ego to make his or her talent public wants to tell us something in a pure, unadulterated, uninterrupted way. Where they, the talent, speak to us, the member of the audience. This has been true for thousands of years.

But as many others have noted, ad nauseam and better than I, the online medium is not at all about that. It's about conversation. Participation. Remixing. Democratization. It's about us talking to us. For all the many good things that come out of this new, collective medium, I am not sure it makes the best home for talented  people, and their works. There are and remain other media that remain better suited for that: the short story, the novel, the film, the interview show, the essay to name but a few. (Oh, and digitization of those things and distribution online is just that -- distribution, not a new medium).

The point of all this is that the cheerleaders and operators of these new platforms should stop being so defensive when folks like Diller say it's not likely they'll become showcases for great, undiscovered talents. He's right. Concentrate on the other things that the medium is good for -- its ability to foster new forms of conversation; to allow us to find and to share information about specific things more efficiently than ever before; and to connect us and bind us together in new ways that harness our collective talents.

Truly a Pathetic Excuse

One of the more interesting and memorable (and, in retrospect, utterly depressing) moments at the Web2 conference last week occurred when John Battelle asked Terry Semel about Yahoo in China, and the recent case in which Yahoo turned over information to Chinese authorities about a Chinese journalist, Shi Tao, that led to his imprisonment for 10 years.

I listened carefully, and I am pretty sure that Semel's justification for this was: "We have to adhere to the laws of the countries in which we do business." That has been their consistent line of defense since early September.

It all seemed so reasonable, so sensible, so justifiable when he said it, even if there was a slight smell of bullshit about the claim. But as I've thought about it more, I am shocked and ashamed I didn't stand up and scream, and that others didn't either. This justification and kind of excuse is as outrageously offensive as the actual act.

A few years ago, a book came out about IBM's collaboration with the Nazis in the late 1930s; specifically, that IBM provided the punch card technology that enable the Nazi government to identify and catalog Jews living in Germany. I have still not read the book, but there is a good summary from a Business Week article from the time here.

I found, and still find, that discovery stunning, and the collaboration by IBM with the Nazis reprehensible and beyond justification. Of course, it may be unfair to equate that act with what Yahoo, Cisco and others are doing now; no one is claiming Chinese authorities are using US technology to engage in genocide. (Remember, though, that preceding regimes had no problem killing tens of millions of Chinese citizens).

But isn't it bad enough that Yahoo, Cisco and others are actively collaborating with and supporting the current Chinese government in their systematic, clear, unambiguous repression of basic human rights? Isn't that bad enough? Or, is imprisonment and repression not enough, and do they only cross the line when millions are killed as a result of their actions?

The argument (Semel made this, too) is that we may not like their laws, we may not like their human rights record, but it is better to engage than walk away. I spent two years traipsing through China while working for Real, and I actually buy the constructive engagement argument in general terms.

But I think you have to draw the line when you at active support for and cooperation with policies and programs that clearly violate human rights. Turning over Shi Tao's name was such a clear violation of human rights. Period. So is the provisioning of routers by Cisco to enable China and Myanmar to filter out speech those regimes don't like or approve.

I side with those beginning to boycott Yahoo! I'll stay away from their products from now on, including the beloved flickr and my yahoo and yahoo mail. And I hope the smart, sensitive and thoughtful folks who work at Yahoo that I've met will press on their bosses to do better. And maybe the famous bloggers will take a break from their pet causes and more parochial issues to devote  some time to this.

Tenacious Real

First off, full disclosure; I was an executive at RealNetworks for 7.5 years. I'm biased when it comes to discussions of Real. But I've been gone long enough (effectively 14 months, although I did some work part time through last April) that I hope I can write about it with a little more distance, if not with total objectivity.

Today's announcement with Microsoft was big news for Real on so many fronts. Others, with better and more in-depth information than I, will dissect the deal with Microsoft. I would like to address one interpretation I've seen that I suspect could gain currency: that Rob Glaser "suppressed his ego" to make this deal happen.

I assume Rafat (and others he has spoken with) are using "ego" in the common, more-or-less pejorative meaning and not the precise psycho-analytic term of art; to wit, by ego he means a sense of self-importance. If so, I think Rob's ego is probably pretty much intact, and probably hasn't changed or been suppressed -- ever.

Let me explain. What drives his sense of self-importance may be a little different than others. There is an important dimension of time -- the denominator, if you will. His sense of ego, his sense of self-importance is intertwined with the long-term viability and durability and success of Real, not it's position or performance at any given point in time. Otherwise he surely would have flipped the company in 1999 or 2000.

Maybe it's a nuanced difference. But, I think it's an important one, and perhaps helps to explain behaviors we see in other founder-executives (Gates, Jobs, Ellison, even Brin-Page).  All of these folks are in it for the long-haul. And given how hard and difficult the path has been for Real the past 5 years, I for one think it's admirable Rob has stuck at it -- even if it's a product of his ego.

I find it an interesting comment on our times that we tend to celebrate the burger-flippers more than those who at least try to create real, durable companies and institutions. Good on ya, Rob and Real, for today's settlement and for staying in the game.

MSM, the New 666

For many bloggers, no other set of three keystrokes gets the pulse racing like MSM -- a quick clack-clack-clack spells the mark of the beast for many in the blogosphere, shorthand for that borg-like, monolithic force of evil others call journalism. I could cite hundreds, or thousands, or hundreds of thousands of examples; here are three from some of the most popular blogs out there.

(NB: Clearly, there is a significant political dimension to all of this -- don't take my word for it, check out this search --  with many conservative bloggers obsessed with righting the ways of a biased, liberal media or so they perceive. We'll leave that topic for a later time.)

I've got a gripe about their gripe and all of the wasted keystrokes on that topic. It would be nice if the top bloggers spent more time making better posts, about more important issues, and less time and effort obsessing about the MSM. Perhaps they could begin to offer us consumers reading experiences as informative and important as Hendrik Hertzbergs "Talk of the Town" item in the New Yorker about the film "Last Best Chance" or as entertaining and provocative as Michael Lewis's piece this past Sunday on his trip back to New Orleans.

Until the top bloggers can tackle important issues consistently -- even at the potential irritation of their audiences once in a while -- with verve and class and with our new set of tools and tricks, this new medium isn't what it could or should be. And if they're not up to the job, let's hope some new blogger blood arrives to make this new medium worth all of the hype and heat and fury.

It'll Be Fun to Watch This Mistake Again

A very amusing, if not interesting, read tonight in tomorrow's NYT about Yahoo's media ambitions here.

This part of the story especially resonated:

Despite the drama and the huge number of people flocking to the site, Lloyd Braun, the television impresario hired last year to oversee Yahoo's media operation, was not satisfied. All Yahoo was offering its users, Mr. Braun fumed, was a white page filled with links to other sites on the Web. (emphasis added)
 

He made his frustration clear to Scott Moore, who had defected from  Microsoft to run Yahoo's news operation. Within a few hours, Mr. Moore orchestrated a quick fix to make the shuttle page comply with Mr. Braun's mantras: "more immersive," "more engaging," and most of all, more original programming.

Yeah, that boring Yahoo! page was no good at all. Why, it might even have been useful. Let's try to recreate TV on the computer instead...

I've seen this movie before. Another exhibit for the Erick Schonfeld "everything old is new again" meme. Remember those great, world-beating efforts at original Internet programming led by former television executives: MSN Channels (the first, perhaps most colossal waste so far but few can remember), Pseudo, DEN, Dreamworks Interactive, Entertaindom, and even Yahoo! Platinumm (led by Braun's quasi-predecessor and Entertaindom-honcho Jim  Moloshok) to mention just a few?

Maybe Braun and his team are really smart, and maybe know something I don't, and maybe the other efforts just came at the wrong time or were led by the wrong people or both. Maybe this vision of the web, one shared held by many folks including probably most at Yahoo, is wrong. Maybe they will succeed. But I think I'll put some money with a London bookie tomorrow on exits dates for this effort, and probably this team, in the next 24 months.