As I noted in my last post, most of us “regular folk” are computer code illiterate. We have no idea how a string of alphanumeric characters come together to result in software, websites, and mobile apps. We understand that binary is the idea that everything can be reduced to ones and zeros, but we wouldn’t be able to actually generate a conversion. We have no frame of reference by which to evaluate whether shows like Mr. Robot or Halt and Catch Fire resemble any form of reality. 

Rami Malek as Elliot in Mr. Robot

Yet we are living in the Digital Age. The Information Age. The age in which so much of our lives is dictated by code. Gradually every nook and cranny of our everyday spaces are becoming connected to the Internet. This is the so-called Internet of Things, which is making inanimate objects “smart”.
And behind every iteration of this digital revolution are lines and lines of code.

Only a small percentage of (usually highly educated) individuals are fluent in this language of code. While on the surface our digital lives may seem easily customizable, the reality is that “systems, protocols, algorithms, and ‘codes’ of the technology usually remain locked” (20). This quote is from a book by Ramesh Srinivasan entitled Whose Global Village? Rethinking How Technology Shapes Our World. In the book, Srinivasan, as both a software engineer and a scholar, brings attention to the invisible forms of ordering in the world that are brought into existence through code, visible only to those, like Srinivasan, who have the necessary literacy to comprehend them.

Srinivasan’s work speaks loudly to the necessity of making visible these digital and invisible lines of power. Code cannot remain the language of the Silicon Valley privileged male. Code must be recognized as a global language as important as English—a language that shapes and frames the ways in which power flows, in which social and economic transactions take place, in which new societal structures and systems are formed. I would argue that in today’s digital age, true democracy is not possible without such digital and programming literacy afforded to the public.

Ian Bogost begins to argue this with his concept of “procedural rhetoric.” He suggests that procedural rhetoric is a form of rhetoric that is embedded in the logic of most digital objects but that it tends to be overlooked in an educational system focused on verbal and visual rhetoric. (For more on procedural rhetoric, see this earlier post.) But I don’t think procedural literacy is enough; I sincerely believe until the ability to read, write, and re-write programming is made mainstream, we will live in an oligarchical society organized and guided by the software elite.

If this opinion sounds overwrought, one only has to consider the recent U.S. elections as evidence of the power that the digital holds over the public. Evidence has now emerged that explicitly links both Russian use of digital spaces and the involvement of Silicon Valley corporations such as Facebook with the surprising outcome of the election. Congress can interrogate and threaten Silicon Valley as much as it likes, but the power such technological centers hold over information will remain until that power is dispersed among the people. Srinivasan refers to this power over information as the new oil of the digital economy, and he too argues that Silicon Valley is redefining democracy.

So what type of tangible change am I suggesting? 

Well, to begin, I would recommend that our schools begin teaching programming languages from the elementary level. There are languages like Alice and Scratch that use drag and drop visual interfaces to introduce users to the fundamentals of programming. Other extracurricular activities, such as the FIRST LEGO Robotics League, provide fun, competitive and hands-on environments for students to learn about programming and programming logic. If our youth encounter programming at a young age, by the time they reach middle and high school, they will be ready to pick up more complex text-based languages like Python.

By scratch.mit.edu, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35453328

The second thing I would like to suggest is that we dissociate the act of learning a programming language from an outcome of attaining a software-oriented career. Currently, much of the rhetoric around learning how to code is about diversifying Silicon Valley or about empowering the next generation to procure well-paying jobs. Both of these objectives are valuable; however, it is imperative that we begin to see code as a language that affects all of us, regardless of our societal roles. It is our right and responsibility to be well-versed in the language(s) that are shaping the world.

Of course, the first step is to begin with ourselves. Both my parents and both my brothers are programmers, but I had only briefly dabbled in a little BASIC (because my mom made me in high school) and of course some HTML (to customize my high school Xanga page). Last semester, however, I became increasingly convicted that if I was to write about the digital realm, I needed to up my game and become at least proficient in a popular programming language. So beginning this past winter break, I have begun to teach myself Python using my mother’s online course for high schoolers. It’s been quite the adventure, sometimes exhilarating and oftentimes extremely frustrating. You can follow my progress on Twitter:

Although I’m only in module 5 of the course, I am already developing a basic understanding of how code works and the kind of decisions and logic that go into designing any piece of software. I have no illusions of pursuing a career in programming, but as my literacy grows, I am seeing how my perception of the digital realm is also changing.

If you’d like to join me on this journey, you can either check out my mom’s course, or you can look into a free site like Codecademy. I’ll be sharing some of my revelations here and on Twitter. If you decide to start learning to code too, please reach out and tell me about your experience! 

(Please note that some of this post was adapted from a response paper written for my Global Media and Society course from fall 2017.)

Amazon recently had its massive annual Prime sale–the Black Friday of summer or as some have dubbed it, Christmas in July. Among all the books, movies, clothing, gadgets, and electronics you can purchase on their site, perhaps Amazon’s greatest pride and joy is their own invention: the Amazon Echo.

The Echo is a monolithic device reminiscent of Kubrick’s 2001 Space Odyssey–a black pillar to erect in the center of one’s home that is always listening. If you want to play music, check the weather, calculate a measurement conversion for a recipe, all you need to do is ask Alexa, the genie in this bottle. 

Google, not to be outdone in the quest to control all the technology in our lives, has a similar device on the market: the Google Home.

Both devices offer increasing convenience for the modern chaotic life. As someone who bakes quite a bit, I love the idea of being able to verbally inquire after the next ingredient for my recipe when my hands are covered in flour. For parents with small children in need of extra arms, no doubt these kind of devices also come in handy. And, in truth, how different are these devices from the Siri and Google that already live in our smartphones? We have already transitioned into a world where we talk to our devices and expect a proportionate response in word or deed. 

But is this really a world we want to live in? Is convenience the framework we wish to structure the future around? It’s sorely tempting, but I would answer no–and urge you to do the same.

In a world of listening devices, everything we say in the comfort and privacy of our homes is picked up by these devices, with the potential of being recorded. There is already evidence to show that what we say to our companions and family members–not directly to the device–is being used to customize the advertising we see as we surf the web. (Listen to this Note to Self episode to learn more.) 

While most of what we say at home might be quite innocuous, suppose one of these devices picks up a casual conversation in which you speak bitterly about an acquaintance who is then subsequently found murdered. What if that conversation becomes admissible in a court of law? As we know from experience with texting, digital devices have a hard time providing an emotional context and nuance when converting a verbal statement into a written one–even with the use of emojis and gifs. And this scenario is not simply hypothetical–Amazon has already been subpoenaed to release Echo data in this murder case. (Amazon refused but the defendant himself later agreed to release the data to the police.) And then, of course, there is the case of the San Bernardino shooters in which the authorities tried to get Apple to provide access to the shooters’ phones.

Even as these corporations are currently fighting to maintain our privacy, I find it scary to think that our data is in the hands of massive companies that are shaping the world’s future. They may not be the governmental authorities but Amazon, Google, and Apple are powerful authorities over our lives in other ways. They already have so much access to our privates lives through our email inboxes, our devices, and our shopping baskets–why would we want to invite them more directly into our homes?

For those who reluctantly respond with, “well we’re in this far, we might as well just accept the state of the world, give up and enjoy the convenience of such devices,” I disagree. We are not so far that we can’t take a stand and begin to shift the needle back to a place in which we as individuals can begin to own our personal information and data again. Choosing not to own an Echo or a Home is a place to start making that shift. Baby steps. Baby steps.

I’m not the first person to discuss this issue, so here’s a few links to some great podcasts and articles that also discuss this topic. If you own or don’t own one of these devices, I’d love to hear why you chose to buy or not buy one, and if you have one, what do you think now that you have it in your home? Do you disagree with my argument? If so, why?

The featured image is courtesy of Matthew Henry

Hi folks. This week I contributed a post to Third Spaces, which is the official blog of the Center for Media, Religion, and Culture at the University of Boulder, of which I am a research fellow. Of course I hope you will wander over to read my post, but I also encourage you to subscribe to Third Spaces and visit the CMRC website to read a little about what we do at the center. My involvement there has been one of the most rewarding aspects of my time at CU Boulder.

Click the image below to read my latest piece over at Third Spaces.A new piece for High and Low is currently in the works and should appear in your feed soon!

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