If you disagree, please let me know

Around the time of Earth Hour, I got into a little argument with an extreme right wing climate change denier.

All this occurred on a mutual friend’s Facebook status. Poor guy.

In between personal attacks, which amused more than offended me (“fetid screeching pagan hippie socialist douche bag”), my opponent said something that actually challenged me:

“You’re not going to be able to convince the people you need to because you fundamentally don’t understand how to talk to them or how they think.”

He then continued calling me a hysterical unhygienic pseudo-Marxist.

While musing in the wise insight that he and I were so fundamentally different that we would never be able to agree, I realised this captures the nature of debate on the web.

That is, true debate cannot exist because everyone sticks to their own niche.

And if true debate did occur, the anonymity of the web and group mentality evident in a niche would quickly lead the argument to a reduction ad Hitlerum.

For example:

“You hippie douche bags are all the same, placing your faith in the socialist pseudo-science of Gaia.”

 

“I’m quite the opposite of a hippie; and all I ask for is sustainability.”

 

“Yeah, and I bet you’re a vegan too. Hitler was a vegan. I bet he called for ‘sustainability’! Murderer!”

 

As you can see, the web allows for a new kind of logic in debates.

The renowned media academic Geert Lovink is onto something when he states: “Debates happen within homogeneous webclouds.” For him, the blogosphere is simply made up of niche “communities of like-minded people” (Zero Comments, page 21). Meaningful discussion is thus prevented by the fragmented structure of the web. Instead what occurs is discussion amongst similar people, with similar views and values on similar interests which generate similar opinions.

It is a limitation of Anderson’s ‘long tail’. Rather than fostering healthy debate on the widely accessible web, which according to Terry Flew could reinvigorate the public sphere, blogs simply lead to backslapping and encouragement amongst similar readers.

Commenting cultures serve to reinforce beliefs, narrowing the mind and cutting off debate.

Certainly, this is what I see on so many climate change blogs.

From what I can gather, on a climate change blog comments will follow one of two set patterns:

 

1. The Intruder.

 We’ve all seen it happen. Someone comments on a blog that is fundamentally different to what they believe in. The mob mentality roars into action, and the debate quickly slides into jokes about the intruder’s Mum. Imagine Tim Flannery commenting on Andrew Bolt’s blog – and opposing what Bolt was saying (as you would expect – Bolt refers to Flannery as a “serial exaggerator and false prophet”). He would be an outsider to the beliefs and opinions pushed and reinforced in that space. Subsequently he would be attacked by Bolt’s majority audience who all support Bolt’s views. Nothing would be sacred (for example, “Flannery = Hitler”), and Flannery would be reduced to quietly disappearing from the ‘debate’. Of course, an intruder may not even get published if the moderator is strict in their views. A fine example of an intruder is Peter Costello writing against action on climate change for the centre-left newspaper The Age. The centre-left audience was not too impressed.

2. The Love-in.

Someone posts a blog on how we need to all act now to save the world. 200 comments later, and nothing new has been advanced. Just a lot of cheering, virtual smiles and hugs, and the odd person wanting to expand on the original blog by saying something that reads like: “I agree completely with what you say, so now listen to me re-word it and qualify my worth by using newer statistics. PS check out my blog!”

 

These comment models are evident on all sides of the climate debate. As Lovink writes, “Blogs clearly create their own secluded social networks” (page 2).

Of course, this is a pattern that occurs on blogs that get comments in the first place. Most blogs within the ever expanding long tail do not generate enough attention to even begin to scratch the surface of public debate. Check out how many comments Oxfam’s climate change blog gets.

In fact, I think it’s fair to say most people don’t comment on blogs. As Lovink writes, why even comment that you disagree with a certain blog? He argues that it’s much safer to simply post a remark on your own blog – with an almost zero chance of response. Plus why even write that you agree with a blog that only you and a few others read? Unless you actually wish to foster a connection with the author, you may as well stay silent. Everyone else is.

As one random interjected during a particularly heated part of my argument with the denier:

“You guys should probably find something better to with your free time…like listening to Prince and not worrying so much about the troubles of the world.”

 

And herein lies the core problem of debate on the internet: most people just can’t be bothered.

If people aren’t prepared for healthy debate outside of the web, then it’s unlikely they’ll engage in it on the web. Indifference lies more with the personality rather than the medium.

Even Lovink acknowledges this to some extent by saying that most bloggers do not aim to foster debate. Bloggers are indifferent to whether they want debate to occur on their pages. They have a message to share – a product of their opinions that they want others to consume – and they’re not likely to want that part of their identity torn to shreds by anonymous opponents.

Of course, there are sites that attempt to foster debate on the web, see for example The Punch, which relies upon participatory culture, or the soon to be launched Speak Your Mind, which aims to encourage debate amongst young people on social and environmental issues – in a TED meets Huffington Post style forum.

I hope my blog is also a space where people at least start thinking about the issues surrounding climate change debate. So far comments have fallen in the second category of “I like what you say. PS check out my blog!”

My moderation policy is that I will publish all comments unless they are inflammatory, discriminatory or constitute a personal attack. Attack the argument, not the person. This may yield healthy discussion on major issues, or it may lead to no one commenting. I suppose it all depends on my content anyway.

On that note, my participation in comment discussions would be limited. I think it is important to respond to genuine and relevent comments that add to the debate, however I’ve learnt my lesson on engaging in arguments that ultimately make a fool of all participants. Lovink quotes Claire E. Write in claiming that most bloggers fear comments turning their blogs into discussion boards, “the essence of the blog is not the interactivity of the medium: it is the sharing of the thoughts an opinions of the blogger” (page 28). A blogger contributing comments thus opens themselves up to having to police the posts, weeding out spam and trolls and answering endless technical questions from registrants. I want to avoid that that, thanks.

For the record, I clearly won the debate. And I’m not vegan, nor a nazi. Click the link below if you have time to read the whole argument.

The argument in all it's glory

Keeping warming a cool topic

 

How can you make discussing global warming ‘cool’?

With awesome internet design, that’s how.

But what makes the formal design of information cool? It’s a question asked by Alan Lui, and I’d say with the diverse range of people determining what gets produced and consumed on the internet, in fragmented niche markets, it’s impossible to get a universal answer on what is cool.

That does not mean web design is irrelevant. In fact, appearance helps us distinguish, judge and remember something, and thus affects how we consume and categorize them. It affects how popular things are.

Colour, form and design help differentiate a site in the dense blogosphere. So what is cool and how has it evolved?

Back in the old days the web was dominated by crowded, amateurish, cluttered, unorganised, content-heavy and constantly under construction pages. Yeah, you can tell I’m not a fan of Geocities (or Comic Sans, “the epitome of trash culture typography” – see the Leo Mertz essay in the Digital Folklore Reader, page 236).

Colours were often not contrasted well, there was no evidence of balance, form or unity and it just looked unclean. Totally uncool.

I actually remember in primary school using this sort of design for a page I made about the ozone layer. My interests haven’t changed much, but let’s hope my eye for cool has. That grade 4 page probably looked something like this.

But it must be acknowledged that no matter how cringe worthy it is now, Geocities “invented the modern internet”. Even though the technology was clunky, the users geeky and the animations cheesy, Geocities gave power to the people and let them choose what was produced on the web.

But this isn’t a defence of GeoShitties. What is ‘cool’ nowadays is the inversion of the overcrowded crap evident on early web design. The trend is now minimalism: a reductive concept that makes information cool by simplifying its design, with clear structures and subtle colours.

Although I find Olia Lialina’s argument in ‘A Vernacular Web 2′ limited somewhat by its ethnocentrism, her point that the minimalist impulse extends from the high-end of society is interesting. Although only time will tell how exclusive this minimalist web design will remain.

“In America poor people often have yards full of junk and the rich aspire to the ‘spare artist loft’ look…[just like] a website with money backing hires an ‘interior decorator’ whose first instinct is to get rid of all the junk” – Tom Moody, quoted in Olia Lialina, ‘A Vernacular Web 2

 

The idea is that with less being more, elements are grouped together to make information easier to process and as such, more meaningful to the viewer.

Pre-existing formats, such as WordPress, aid this. Everything is selected, and design can be personalized, however all this has to be done within the confines of streamlined options. For most WordPress users, their blog’s appearance will be based around one of the 92 present themes provided by the platform. Lachlan Sadler makes an interesting point when he notes that on average, each theme will be used by over 2,000 blogs.

I wonder whether this topic is more about aesthetics of the web or conformity on the web. But this isn’t the place to deconstruct homogenized cultures. I’ve save that for my anthropology essay.

Point is, design can function as a marker of distinction in many social, economic and cultural contexts and can help users develop their blog’s identity and niche in the crowded blogosphere. ‘Cool’ on the web is no different to ‘cool’ in fashion, ‘cool’ in food, ‘cool’ in music and ‘cool’ in people. Even if there are trends ensuring some uniformity, web design does allow for individuality and act as a maker of unique distinction. As Liu states, the ‘cool’ has always been next to the ‘cold’ – take a look at some of these ‘retro’ websites. 

Interestingly, these websites can be interpreted as anti-design, or what Liu terms “really cool pages”, as they understand the “disturbances” of design on the web, and do not attempt to accomodate them at all. It’s punk design, and that’s really cool (Liu, Laws of Cool, page 228).

Ultimately design replicates what we identify with; as Lialina notes, changes in appearance of pages on the web are just inevitablities of the Internet becoming “entwined with our daily lives” (Vernacular Web 2, page 59).

So back to my central question, how have I kept warming cool?

I’ve gone with the theme ‘Spring Loaded’ by the 449. It’s minimalistic without being pretentious. Obviously the green adds to the message I hope to convey, and will immediately identify me as having ‘green’ views; as pop psychology has taught me. It contains several widgets, including my twitter – which I believe will be of more value than this time-consuming blog – a quote which inspires me, an email subscription offer (to lure people in) and a CO2 widget available at co2now.org, which updates the level of CO2 in the atmosphere – an daily update on how our energy use effects our Earth. The tufts of grass in the top right hand corner just add that earthy touch to it. I’ve also gone easy on images around the heading, as I feel that would make this blog appear too amuterish.

I chose this design as I beleive it not only allows my content to stand out, but adds another dimension to it by assisting in the processing of that content. Most importantly however, it does distract attention away from my content. Focus remains soley on the content, with the well thought out sylistic elements blending well into the background – creating what Liu terms the “facade of a whole harmonium”, accomodating the web’s wackiness into sleek and controlled design (page 227).

Pretty cool if you ask me. Now to make the Earth cooler…

Epic fail to engineer Gulf of Mexico oil spill solutions – so why drill to begin with?

News that BP’s plans to stem the oil leak in the Gulf of Mexico have failed came as no surprise.

For days now the media have been touting the amazing engineering feat that was the “Giant Dome.” It was seen as the quick solution – an example of humanity’s ability to engineer the environment around it. It was meant to be the penicillin to the wound we had caused the Earth.

Signs of this perspective are prevalent in the media, with many technological solutions being advocated to solve the environmental disaster. Some are even absurd enough to suggest the use of nuclear weapons:

This is all in line with humanity’s fixation on “Progress“. So far, there has much focus on technological solutions, little criticism of our reliance on oil to begin with.

Of course there are those who see this crisis as a chance to capitalise on the public horror at the oil spill, and rightly so. It was once noted that when written in Chinese, “crisis” is composed of two characters – one for danger and one for opportunity.

However, it concerns me that our society is stuck in an ex post facto mindset. Rather than dealing with the cause of the problem – our unhealthy reliance on fossil fuels and our escalating, wasteful and unnecessary consumption patterns – we focus on the symptoms of the problem.

This oil spill disaster may in time become seen as a microcosm of humanity’s reaction to climate change. We refuse to deal with the actual cause of the problem, instead placing faith in our unproven abilities to adapt, to engineer solutions.

Here’s hoping that we learn the lesson from this disaster, and act to prevent future environmental catastrophes. As the epic fail of the giant dome proves, we are and always will be at the mercy of nature.