Artifacts of my past and of the future

I took my son down to visit his grandparents for a few days, and took the chance to finally venture up into their loft to retrieve enough boxes from my childhood to fill the back of my car (and once opened, most of the living space in the house). Besides bringing back a lot of old memories, it’s also sparked some thoughts on how influences and memories are evolving so rapidly as online storage becomes cheaper, online marketplaces have opened up buying and selling, and what we are (in terms of music, books, films, etc) is able to be scrobbled, tagged, logged and interrogated.

For example, I recently wrote about a sci-fi book I’d finished on one of the many sharing sites, and claimed that I didn’t really get into science fiction when I was young, and it was only really in my mid and late 20s I started reading Gibson, Doctorow, Clarke, Strauss etc.

Turns out I was mistaken, as a box full of ‘teen fiction’ sci fi books have proven, along with the obvious omission of the Warhammer 40,000 manual and about 5 years worth of White Dwarf magazines from the hallowed halls of Games Workshop, depicting all kinds of Space Marines.

Some of the toys recovered from my parents...

Just some of the recovered treasure. The high heeled shoe isn't mine, by the way!

Will my son have any memories to re-discover?

It’s a fairly safe bet that in the next couple of years my son is probably not going to be receiving many more print books, as most of what he’ll read is likely to be electronic. Certainly by the time he reaches his early teens, which was the peak for me in terms of accumulating books and magazines, things will have changed a heck of a lot. So everything he reads can be tracked and logged by retailers or by him.

What will it be like having his entire literary history at his searchable disposal? Is there something he’ll miss out on in finding an old box sealed up by me at the age of 11, and opening it 20 years later to find some of the books I’d loved but forgotten?

The loss of ‘mythic scarcity’?

I was pretty fortunate as a child in that my parents and grandparents were able to indulge me in a lot of the interests and hobbies I had. But even then, there were certain toys and gadgets that weren’t obtainable even despite my constant pestering – which is the cause of a lot of adult collections of pop culture and toys.

But online marketplaces for everything from books to comics to toys means that it’s easy to see how quickly they depreciate (rivalling new cars in price drops), and suddenly everything becomes attainable fairly quickly. How will that change his desires, buying habits, and that sense of achievement when 20 years later you actually do own a mint condition Millenium Falcon in the orignal box, or the mint copy of Street Fighter Collection on the Sega Saturn?

Is there a value in having something to strive and desire as a child which isn’t readily available 6 months later on eBay?

Am I selling my own memories too soon?

As I’ve switched to a more digital existence for all my entertainment, I’ve been selling off a lot of stuff. Generally it makes sense that someone else might benefit from books I’ll never re-read, or magazines for things I no longer have interest in, and I’m still keeping a selection of my most valued possessions for myself, and the most reasured objects I want to pass onto my son.

But I can’t help wondering if I’ll regret it at some point in the distant future. I combine the hoarding tendecy of a neurotic squirrel with the cataloguing habits of a particularly obsessive librarian, and that’s taken a long time to overcome in digitising my music, and accepting that most books will now reside on a Kindle or similar device, rather than being displayed on a shelf to possibly impress visitors.

Whereas the author Umberto Eco apparently has a massive library of books he has yet to read, mine are all queued up in wish lists and notepad files for a time when I have the money and space to actually read them – is there the same impetus as having a print copy sat accusingly on the shelf nearby?

Beautiful visions of a past future:

One thing I do know is that it’s fascinating reading all sorts of encyclopedias and factual books from my childhood on space and computing, and seeing what visions of the future existed in the 1980s (and the 1970s in some of the books I must have inherited from other family members). It’s quite poignant given the final flight of the space shuttle programme so recently, and also thinking about the time and context they were written in.

I’m sat with a phone that packs more technology that a moon mission, I do business via the internet and communicate via videochat. Hybrid cars are increasingly common, commercial spaceflights are an evermore practical proposition in my lifetime, and robots are now picking my shopping from warehouse shelves and are starting to be used for household chores.

Robot at the British Library Science Fiction Exhibition

One of the robots at the British Library's Science Fiction exhibition

Still, whatever happens, there’s one reassuring thing – if I do change my mind about letting any of my childhood artifacts be sold – I can always buy someone else’s online with just a couple of clicks. Which is handy, considering I now have a bag full of articulated Action Force figures in 3 parts as the rubber connecting them has perished, and there’s the sad sight of a small army in pieces spread across the floor beyond practical repair.

Now if only I could go back in time and prevent my parents giving away my huge collection of original Star Wars toys I’d be able to stop worrying about a nest egg for my old age…

Bloggers suing the Huffington Post – the outcome for UGC?

You may have seen a few reports about the class-action suit brought against the Huffington Post after it was acquired by AOL for $315 million. It was filed by Jonathan Tasini, who calculated the content created by volunteers should be valued at a third of the sale value, $105 million. There’s been a fair bit of commentary on the case, which seems to hinge on a moral obligation rather than a legal one for the Huffington Post (here, here, and  here), as it concentrates on ‘Unjust Enrichment‘ , and it will probably hinge on whether the payment in exposure etc is a fair trade for the work involved in creating articles.

Personally I have no problem with sites soliciting, accepting and publishing content supplied for free by volunteers who know the terms of the deal upfront in a clear fashion (i.e. no hiding behind 20 pages of legalese that they no longer have rights to their work – spell it out and then link to the legalese terms!)

The argument that many paid writers make is that this devalues their profession, which is a disruption being felt across various specialisms, whether it’s creative, technical or manufacturers competing in a global market. And as someone who writes for at least part of his living, I agree that the rates for writing have dropped, but it’s down to the writer to decide what will benefit them best, and how to differentiate themselves and maximise what they can earn.

But what will the legal case do?

As someone without a legal education, but with an understanding of the legal departments of large media companies, I can’t imagine the legal case will result in any significant financial reward for Tasini.

But what probably will happen is that most publishers will revisit their terms and conditions for user-generated content and tighten them up even further in any possible way to preclude similar actions. So if you want to submit something for a major site, you’ll spend the first few hours electronically signing your rights away – and it might end up limiting any existing possibilities of rewarding UGC as that could end up muddying the waters between just and unjust enrichment. I suspect the legal view will be that to offer any amount of financial reward would be riskier than none at all.

It might also lead to complications for smaller sites – if they’re accepting content without the ability to offer large amounts of proven exposure, do they then end up falling foul of ‘unjust enrichment’? Do sites need to start publishing their monthly user figures to everything who might send in a guest post?

It seems to that rather than furthering the cause of quality writing (which is more affected by the likes of Google’s Panda search update than by hitting out at the HuffPo), this could just end up limiting the outlets which are interested in accepting user content, and that lack of competition makes it even less likely that rates would rise for those willing to pay.

So have you submitted content for free anywhere? And do you feel like you were rewarded with enough exposure/other benefits?

Recommending you check out a print magazine…

I may have spent years suggesting that the print industry will decline in the face of digital abundance, but I’ve also long-suggested that niche print publishing is the logical future of dead trees.

Which is why Hacker Monthly is so cool.

Essentially it’s a curated selection of the top links voted to the top of Hacker News – which itself has long been a favourite user-voted site of mine. Leaning towards coders and programmers, Hacker News submissions can be “anything that gratifies one’s intellectual curiosity.”, and the organic growth of the site means that it sticks pretty closely to that, rather than slipping into trivial shock links (as happened to Digg a lot over the years).

Originally started as a side project, Hacker Monthly has become a 3,000-paid subscriber production, available in print, or as a digital download. And the promotion of it largely comes from hardcore digital people making a rare move in buying something in a print format…

Lower East Side Print Shop by cherrypatter on Flickr (CC Licence)

Lower East Side Print Shop by cherrypatter on Flickr (CC Licence)

The reason it works is that it’s a mix of crowd suggestion and editorial curation which has a big digital audience to convert a certain percentage into a payment model.

Or just because it’s cool.

(h/t ReadWriteWeb.)