This article is not directly related to the themes we usually discuss here. It's basically about the Internet and how it will help shaping an entirely different world. Since I believe the Internet will trigger changes that will create a more cooperative world I decided to share this article with you guys. It's a little long, but definitely worth reading. 
By John Naughton - Guardian/The Observer
  In spite of all the answers the internet has given us, its full  potential to transform our lives remains the great unknown. Here are the  nine key steps to understanding the most powerful tool of our age – and  where it's taking us
A funny thing happened to us on the way to the future. The internet went from being something  exotic to being boring utility, like mains electricity or running water –  and we never really noticed. So we wound up being totally dependent on a  system about which we are terminally incurious. You think I exaggerate  about the dependence? Well, just ask Estonia, one of the most  internet-dependent countries on the planet, which in 2007 was more or  less shut down for two weeks by a sustained attack on its network infrastructure. Or imagine  what it would be like if, one day, you suddenly found yourself unable to  book flights, transfer funds from your bank account, check bus  timetables, send email, search Google, call your family using Skype, buy  music from Apple or books from Amazon, buy or sell stuff on eBay, watch  clips on YouTube or BBC programmes on the iPlayer – or do the 1,001  other things that have become as natural as breathing.
The  internet has quietly infiltrated our lives, and yet we seem to be  remarkably unreflective about it. That's not because we're short of  information about the network; on the contrary, we're awash with the  stuff. It's just that we don't know what it all means. We're in the  state once described by that great scholar of cyberspace, Manuel  Castells, as "informed bewilderment".
Mainstream media don't  exactly help here, because much – if not most – media coverage of the  net is negative. It may be essential for our kids' education, they  concede, but it's riddled with online predators, seeking children to  "groom" for abuse. Google is supposedly "making us stupid" and  shattering our concentration into the bargain. It's also allegedly  leading to an epidemic of plagiarism. File sharing is destroying music,  online news is killing newspapers, and Amazon is killing bookshops. The  network is making a mockery of legal injunctions and the web is full of  lies, distortions and half-truths. Social networking fuels the growth of  vindictive "flash mobs" which ambush innocent columnists such as Jan Moir. And so on.
All of which might lead a  detached observer to ask: if the internet is such a disaster, how come  27% of the world's population (or about 1.8 billion people) use it  happily every day, while billions more are desperate to get access to  it?
So how might we go about getting a more balanced view of the  net ? What would you really need to know to understand the internet  phenomenon? Having thought about it for a while, my conclusion is that  all you need is a smallish number of big ideas, which, taken together,  sharply reduce the bewilderment of which Castells writes so eloquently.
But  how many ideas? In 1956, the psychologist George Miller published a famous paper in the journal Psychological Review.  Its title was "The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two: Some Limits  on our Capacity for Processing Information" and in it Miller set out to  summarise some earlier experiments which attempted to measure the limits  of people's short-term memory. In each case he reported that the  effective "channel capacity" lay between five and nine choices. Miller  did not draw any firm conclusions from this, however, and contented  himself by merely conjecturing that "the recurring sevens might  represent something deep and profound or be just coincidence". And that,  he probably thought, was that.
But Miller had underestimated the  appetite of popular culture for anything with the word "magical' in the  title. Instead of being known as a mere aggregator of research results,  Miller found himself identified as a kind of sage — a discoverer of a  profound truth about human nature. "My problem," he wrote, "is that I  have been persecuted by an integer. For seven years this number has  followed me around, has intruded in my most private data, and has  assaulted me from the pages of our most public journals… Either there  really is something unusual about the number or else I am suffering from  delusions of persecution."
But in fact, the basic idea that  emerges from Miller's 1956 paper seems to have stood the test of time.  The idea is that our short-term memory can only hold between five and  nine "chunks" of information at any given moment (here a chunk is  defined as a "meaningful unit"). So, when trying to decide how many big  ideas about the internet would be meaningful for most readers, it seemed  sensible to settle for a magical total of nine. So here they are.
1 TAKE THE LONG VIEW
The  strange thing about living through a revolution is that it's very  difficult to see what's going on. Imagine what it must have been like  being a resident of St Petersburg in 1917, in the months before Lenin  and the Bolsheviks finally seized power. It's clear that momentous  events are afoot; there are all kinds of conflicting rumours and  theories, but nobody knows how things will pan out. Only with the  benefit of hindsight will we get a clear idea of what was going on. But  the clarity that hindsight bestows is also misleading, because it  understates how confusing things appeared to people at the time.
So  it is with us now. We're living through a radical transformation of our  communications environment. Since we don't have the benefit of  hindsight, we don't really know where it's taking us. And one thing  we've learned from the history of communications technology is that  people tend to overestimate the short-term impact of new technologies —  and to underestimate their long-term implications.
We see this all  around us at the moment, as would-be savants, commentators, writers,  consultants and visionaries tout their personal interpretations of what  the internet means for business, publishing, retailing, education,  politics and the future of civilisation as we know it. Often, these  interpretations are compressed into vivid slogans, memes or aphorisms:  information "wants to be free"; the "long tail" is the future of  retailing; "Facebook just seized control of the internet", and so on.  These kinds of slogans are really just short-term extrapolations from  yesterday's or today's experience. They tell us little about where the  revolution we're currently living through is heading. The question is:  can we do any better — without falling into the trap of feigning  omniscience?
Here's a radical idea: why not see if there's  anything to be learned from history? Because mankind has lived through  an earlier transformation in its communications environment, brought  about by the invention of printing by movable type. This technology  changed the world — indeed, it shaped the cultural environment in which  most of us grew up. And the great thing about it, from the point of view  of this essay, is that we can view it with the benefit of hindsight. We  know what happened.
A thought experiment
So  let's conduct what the Germans call a Gedankenexperiment — a  thought experiment. Imagine that the net represents a similar kind of  transformation in our communications environment to that wrought by  printing. What would we learn from such an experiment?
The first  printed bibles emerged in 1455 from the press created by Johannes  Gutenberg in the German city of Mainz. Now, imagine that the year is  1472 — ie 17 years after 1455. Imagine, further, that you're the  medieval equivalent of a Mori pollster, standing on the bridge in Mainz  with a clipboard in your hand and asking pedestrians a few questions.  Here's question four: On a scale of one to five, where one indicates  "Not at all likely" and five indicates "Very likely", how likely do you  think it is that Herr Gutenberg's invention will:
(a) Undermine  the authority of the Catholic church?
(b) Power the Reformation?
(c)  Enable the rise of modern science?
(d) Create entirely new social  classes and professions?
(e) Change our conceptions of  "childhood" as a protected early period in a person's life?
On a  scale of one to five! You have only to ask the questions to realise the  fatuity of the idea. Printing did indeed have all of these effects, but  there was no way that anyone in 1472, in Mainz (or anywhere else for  that matter) could have known how profound its impact would be.
I'm  writing this in 2010, which is 17 years since the web went mainstream.  If I'm right about the net effecting a transformation in our  communications environment comparable to that wrought by Gutenberg, then  it's patently absurd for me (or anyone else) to pretend to know what  its long-term impact will be. The honest answer is that we simply don't  know.
The trouble is, though, that everybody affected by the net  is demanding an answer right now. Print journalists and their employers  want to know what's going to happen to their industry. Likewise the  music business, publishers, television networks, radio stations,  government departments, travel agents, universities, telcos, airlines,  libraries and lots of others. The sad truth is that they will all have  to learn to be patient. And, for some of them, by the time we know the  answers to their questions, it will be too late.
2 THE WEB ISN'T THE NET
The most common — and still  surprisingly widespread — misconception is that the internet and the web  are the same thing. They're not. A good way to understand this is via a  railway analogy. Think of the internet as the tracks and signalling,  the infrastructure on which everything runs. In a railway network,  different kinds of traffic run on the infrastructure — high-speed  express trains, slow stopping trains, commuter trains, freight trains  and (sometimes) specialist maintenance and repair trains.
On the  internet, web pages are only one of the many kinds of traffic that run  on its virtual tracks. Other types of traffic include music files being  exchanged via peer-to-peer networking, or from the iTunes store; movie  files travelling via BitTorrent;  software updates; email; instant messages; phone conversations via  Skype and other VoIP (internet telephony) services; streaming video and  audio; and other stuff too arcane to mention.
And (here's the  important bit) there will undoubtedly be other kinds of traffic, stuff  we can't possibly have dreamed of yet, running on the internet in 10  years' time.
So the thing to remember is this: the web is huge and  very important, but it's just one of the many things that run on the  internet. The net is much bigger and far more important than anything  that travels on it.
Understand this simple distinction and you're  halfway to wisdom. 
3 DISRUPTION IS A FEATURE, NOT A BUG
One of the things that most  baffles (and troubles) people about the net is its capacity for  disruption. One moment you've got a stable, profitable business – say,  as the CEO of a music label; the next minute your industry is struggling  for survival, and you're paying a king's ransom to intellectual  property lawyers in a losing struggle to stem the tide. Or you're a  newspaper group, wondering how a solid revenue stream from classified  ads could suddenly have vaporised; or a university librarian wondering  why students use only Google nowadays. How can this stuff happen? And  how does it happen so fast?
The answer lies deep in the network's  architecture. When it was being created in the 1970s, Vint Cerf and  Robert Kahn, the lead designers, were faced with two difficult tasks:  how to design a system that seamlessly links lots of other networks, and  how to design a network that is future-proof. The answer they came up  with was breathtakingly simple. It was based on two axioms. Firstly,  there should be no central ownership or control – no institution which  would decide who could join or what the network could be used for.  Secondly, the network should not be optimised for any particular  application. This led to the idea of a "simple" network that did only  one thing – take in data packets at one end and do its best to deliver  them to their destinations. The network would be neutral as to the  content of those packets – they could be fragments of email, porn  videos, phone conversations, images… The network didn't care, and would  treat them all equally.
By implementing these twin protocols, Vint  Cerf and Robert Kahn created what was essentially a global machine  for springing surprises. The implication of their design was that  if you had an idea that could be implemented using data packets, then  the internet would do it for you, no questions asked. And you didn't  have to ask anyone's permission.
The explosion of creativity – in  the form of disruptive applications – that the world has seen since the  network emerged in the 1980s may have taken a lot of institutions and  industries by surprise, but it was predictable, given the architecture.  There are a lot of smart programmers in the world, and the net provided  them with a perfect launch pad for springing surprises. What kinds of  surprises? Well, the web itself. It was largely the creation of a single  individual – Tim Berners-Lee, who in 1991 put the code on an internet  server without having to ask anyone's permission.
Ten years after  Berners-Lee started work, a disaffected, music-loving teenager named Shawn Fanning  spent six months writing software for sharing music files and, in  1999, put his little surprise on an internet server. He called it  Napster and it acquired over 60 million delighted users before the music  industry managed to shut it down. But by that time the file-sharing  genie was out of the bottle.
While all this was going on, plenty  of equally smart programmers were incubating more sinister surprises, in  the shape of a plague of spam, viruses, worms and other security  "exploits" which they have been able to unleash over a network which  doesn't care what's in your data packets. The potential dangers of this  "malware" explosion are alarming. For example, mysterious groups have  assembled "botnets" (made up of millions of covertly compromised,  networked PCs) which could be used to launch massive, co-ordinated  attacks that could conceivably bring down the network infrastructure of  entire industries, or perhaps even countries. So far, with the exception  of Estonia in 2007, we haven't seen such an attack, but the fear is  that it will eventually come, and it will be the net's own version of  9/11.
The internet's disruptiveness is a consequence of its  technical DNA. In programmers' parlance, it's a feature, not a bug – ie  an intentional facility, not a mistake. And it's difficult to see how we  could disable the network's facility for generating unpleasant  surprises without also disabling the other forms of creativity it  engenders.
4 THINK ECOLOGY, NOT ECONOMICS
As  an analytical framework, economics can come unstuck when dealing with  the net. Because while economics is the study of the allocation of  scarce resources, the online world is distinguished by abundance.  Similarly, ecology (the study of natural systems) specialises in  abundance, and it can be useful to look at what's happening in the media  through the eyes of an ecologist.
Since the web went mainstream  in 1993, our media "ecosystem", if you like, has become immeasurably  more complex. The old, industrialised, mass-media ecosystem was  characterised by declining rates of growth; relatively small numbers of  powerful, profitable, slow-moving publishers and broadcasters; mass  audiences consisting mainly of passive consumers of centrally produced  content; relatively few communication channels, and a slow pace of  change. The new ecosystem is expanding rapidly: it has millions of  publishers; billions of active, web-savvy, highly informed readers,  listeners and viewers; innumerable communication channels, and a  dizzying rate of change.
To an ecologist, this looks like an  ecosystem whose biodiversity has expanded radically. It's as if a world  in which large organisms like dinosaurs (think Time Warner,  Encyclopaedia Britannica) had trudged slowly across the landscape  exchanging information in large, discrete units, but life was now  morphing into an ecosystem in which billions of smaller species consume,  transform, aggregate or break down and exchange information goods in  much smaller units – and in which new gigantic life-forms (think Google,  Facebook) are emerging. In the natural world, increased biodiversity is  closely correlated with higher whole-system productivity – ie the rate  at which energy and material inputs are translated into growth. Could it  be that this is also happening in the information sphere? And if it is,  who will benefit in the long term?
5 COMPLEXITY IS THE NEW REALITY
Even if you don't accept the ecological  metaphor, there's no doubt that our emerging information environment is  more complex – in terms of numbers of participants, the density of  interactions between them, and the pace of change – than anything that  has gone before. This complexity is not an aberration or something to be  wished away: it's the new reality, and one that we have to address.  This is a challenge, for several reasons. First, the behaviour of  complex systems is often difficult to understand and even harder to  predict. Second, and more importantly, our collective mindsets in  industry and government are not well adapted for dealing with  complexity. Traditionally, organisations have tried to deal with the  problem by reducing complexity – acquiring competitors, locking in  customers, producing standardised products and services, etc. These  strategies are unlikely to work in our emerging environment, where  intelligence, agility, responsiveness and a willingness to experiment  (and fail) provide better strategies for dealing with what the networked  environment will throw at you.
6 THE NETWORK IS NOW THE COMPUTER
For baby-boomers, a computer was a standalone  PC running Microsoft software.  Eventually, these devices were networked, first locally (via office  networks) and then globally (via the internet). But as broadband  connections to the net became commonplace, something strange happened:  if you had a fast enough connection to the network, you became less  concerned about the precise location of either your stored data or the  processor that was performing computational tasks for you. And these  tasks became easier to do. First, the companies (Yahoo, Google,  Microsoft) who provided search also began to offer "webmail" – email  provided via programs that ran not on your PC but on servers in the  internet "cloud". Then Google offered word-processing, spreadsheets,  slide-making and other "office"-type services over the network. And so  on.
Here was a transition from a world in which the PC really was  the computer, to one in which the network is effectively the computer.  It has led to the emergence of "cloud computing" – a technology in which  we use simple devices (mobile phones, low-power laptops or tablets) to  access computing services that are provided by powerful servers  somewhere on the net. This switch to computing as a utility rather than a  service that you provide with your own equipment has profound  implications for privacy, security and economic development – and public  perceptions are lagging way behind the pace of development. What  happens to your family's photo collection if it's held in the cloud and  your password goes to the grave with you? And what about your documents  and emails – all likewise stored in the cloud on someone else's server?  Or your "reputation" on eBay? Everywhere one looks, the transition to  cloud computing has profound implications, because it makes us more and  more dependent on the net. And yet we're sleepwalking into this brave  new world.
7 THE WEB IS CHANGING
Once upon a time, the web was merely a publication  medium, in which publishers (professional or amateur) uploaded passive  web pages to servers. For many people in the media business, that's  still their mental model of the web. But in fact, the web has gone  through at least three phases of evolution – from the original web 1.0,  to the web 2.0 of "small pieces, loosely  joined" (social networking, mashups, webmail, and so on) and is now  heading towards some kind of web 3.0 –  a global platform based on Tim Berners-Lee's idea of  the 'semantic web' in which web pages will contain enough metadata about  their content to enable software to make informed judgements about  their relevance and function. If we are to understand the web as it is,  rather than as it once was, we need more realistic mental models of it.  Above all, we need to remember that it's no longer just a publication  medium.
8 HUXLEY AND ORWELL ARE THE BOOKENDS OF OUR FUTURE
Many years ago, the cultural critic Neil Postman, one of the  20th century's most perceptive critics of technology, predicted that the  insights of two writers would, like a pair of bookends, bracket our  future. Aldous Huxley believed that we would be destroyed by the things  we love, while George Orwell thought we would be destroyed by the things  we fear.
Postman was writing before the internet became such a  force in our societies, but I believe he got it right. On the one  (Huxleyan) hand, the net has been a profoundly liberating influence in  our lives – creating endless opportunities for information,  entertainment, pleasure, delight, communication, and apparently  effortless consumption, to the point where it has acquired  quasi-addictive power, especially over younger generations. One can  calibrate the extent of the impact by the growing levels of concern  among teachers, governments and politicians. "Is Google making us stupid?" was the title of one of the  most cited articles in Atlantic magazine in 2008. It was  written by Nicholas Carr, a prominent blogger and author, and raised the  question of whether permanent access to networked information (not just  Google) is turning us into restless, shallow thinkers with shorter  attention spans. (According to Nielsen, a market research firm, the  average time spent viewing a web page is 56 seconds.) Other critics are  worried that incessant internet use is actually rewiring our brains.
On  the other (Orwellian) hand, the internet is the nearest thing to a  perfect surveillance machine the world has ever seen. Everything you do  on the net is logged – every email you send, every website you visit,  every file you download, every search you conduct is recorded and filed  somewhere, either on the servers of your internet service provider or of  the cloud services that you access. As a tool for a totalitarian  government interested in the behaviour, social activities and  thought-process of its subjects, the internet is just about perfect.
9 OUR INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY REGIME IS NO LONGER FIT FOR PURPOSE
In  the analogue world, copying was difficult and degenerative (ie copies  of copies became progressively worse than the original). In the digital  world, copying is effortless and perfect. In fact, copying is to  computers as breathing is to living organisms, inasmuch as all  computational operations involve it. When you view a web page, for  example, a copy of the page is loaded into the video memory of your  computer (or phone, or iPad) before the device can display it on the  screen. So you can't even look at something on the web without  (unknowingly) making a copy of it.
Since our current intellectual  property regime was conceived in an era when copying was difficult and  imperfect, it's not surprising that it seems increasingly out of sync  with the networked world. To make matters worse (or better, depending on  your point of view), digital technology has provided internet users  with software tools which make it trivially easy to copy, edit, remix  and publish anything that is available in digital form – which means  nearly everything, nowadays. As a result, millions of people have become  "publishers" in the sense that their creations are globally published  on platforms such as Blogger, Flickr and YouTube. So everywhere one  looks, one finds things that infringe copyright in one way or another.
This  is a disagreeable but inescapable fact – as inescapable in its way as  the fact that young adults tend to drink too much alcohol. The only way  to stop copying is to shut down the net. There's nothing wrong with  intellectual property (or alcohol), per se, but our copyright laws are  now so laughably out of touch with reality that they are falling into  disrepute. They urgently need reforming to make them relevant to digital  circumstances. The problem is that none of our legislators seems to  understand this, so it won't happen any time soon.
Postscript
It  would be ridiculous to pretend that these nine ideas encapsulate  everything that there is to be known about the net. But they do provide a  framework for seeing the phenomenon "in the round", as it were, and  might even serve as an antidote to the fevered extrapolation that often  passes for commentary on developments in cyberspace. The sad fact is  that if there is a "truth" about the internet, it's rather prosaic: to  almost every big question about the network's long-term implications the  only rational answer is the one famously given by Mao Zedong's foreign  minister, Zhou Enlai, when asked about the significance of the French  Revolution: "It's too early to say." It is.
 
 




 
 
 
 
 
 
