The New York Times ran two opinion pieces this weekend right next to each other that both stand at the intersection of the how the government and politics work and social change that results from technological change. In the first, Joe Nocera argues that the big question in the resignation of David Petraeus is whether we’re comfortable with the FBI snooping through our email on relatively flimsy grounds:
But the Petraeus scandal could well end up teaching some very different lessons. If the most admired military man in a generation can have his e-mail hacked by F.B.I. agents, then none of us are safe from the post-9/11 surveillance machine. And if an affair is all it takes to force such a man from office, then we truly have lost all sense of proportion.
The second was about what increased use of data in political campaigns means long-term. As I’ve mentioned, I’ve been working in the analytics world this year, so this topic is highly relevant to me. It’s also very complicated. On one hand, improving our ability to collect and analyze data enables us to better understand what people want and expect from our products, or, in the case of campaigns, our politicians. On the other hand, combining our more advanced understanding of human behavior with deeper data sets creates the opportunity for more effective manipulation in addition to more effective communication.
While the people creating big data tools may not be evil, the organizations that use them going forward may not agree to the same principles. The big question in both the Petraeus case and in the use of big data by campaigns is that regardless of our level of comfort with the government, campaigns, or companies knowing so much about us, we don’t really have control over the gathering of that information.
Against irony
Christy Wampole’s How to Live Without Irony is one of my favorite essays I’ve read lately. Here’s her advice on performing an irony self-assessment:
I have been intending for quite awhile to write something about the dangers of irony. Perhaps at one time “hipster mustaches” were an ironic commentary on absurd facial hair, but now they’re a faddish fashion choice. Likewise, perhaps people started drinking PBR because they were making an ironic commentary on being “broke,” but now they drink it because it’s the cheapest beer most bars serve. How many people wearing trucker hats know why they’re called trucker hats?
I’ve observed the effects of overuse of irony on myself. I often catch myself unconsciously using slang that I once used to ironically skew people I see on TV. The line between irony and sincerity blurs as people repeat behavior that they began as a joke. The journey from making a joke and becoming a joke is a short one. Just ask anyone with an ironic tattoo.