The Tech in My Life #3: Crystal Radio

The first radio I owned was a cat’s whisker or crystal receiver, housed in a chic red plastic box. The outward appearance suggested space age technology; the inward reality was a primitive but robust design, and represented my first hands-on experience of electronics.

The advantages of this gadget were portability, ease of use (just a single tuning dial), and no need for a battery or external power source.

The downsides were: limited amplification (no built-in speaker, and the audio was via a single ear-piece – no WiFi or bluetooth in those days!); the need to be connected to an external aerial (a long length of copper wire dangling out of my bedroom window); and it only received medium wave radio signals.

But the worlds it opened up were endless. This was the days before BBC Radio One, and the height of pirate radio stations such as Radio Caroline and “wonderful” Radio London. Listening to the sounds of the psychedelic sixties aged 6 or 7 were formative years in the development of my musical tastes. And thanks to certain atmospheric conditions I could sometimes hear European stations, which sounded very exotic to my young ears.

Next week #4: Reel-to-Reel Tape Deck 

The Tech in My Life #2: Goonhilly

After the previous tech-related blog on Telstar, it makes sense to mention Goonhilly, a UK-based satellite dish that has been playing a key role in communications and space exploration for more than 60 years.

Goonhilly received the first trans-Atlantic TV signals transmitted via Telstar, and broadcast them into British homes, in 1962. I was too young at the time to recall seeing those early signs of global communications; but I do remember getting up early in the morning to watch the live broadcasts of the Mexico Olympic Games in 1968, and the Apollo 11 moon landing the following year.

During a family holiday in Cornwall in the mid-1960s, my parents took us on a visit to Goonhilly Downs, including a tour of the satellite tracking station. Of course, it was not really possible to see what the dish was actually doing, but I came away with a small souvenir of this new age of technology.

I was given a short strip of computer punched tape. I had no idea what the holes on this piece of paper meant, or what information they represented. But it felt significant to have hold of this data artefact, which I kept for several years.

After I left high school, one of my first jobs was as an outdoor clerk for a firm of solicitors. This involved spending many hours in the communications room, where among other things, the telex machine was located. The secretaries who sent out telexes from the firm typed the text using a keyboard, and the message came out as a series of holes punched into similar paper tape. The tape was fed back into the machine to play it at a higher speed than could be humanly typed, to transmit the recorded message. Even though faxes were becoming more popular, the legal profession still used telex, not only for speed and for long distance communications, but where the record of a telex transmission was required as proof of delivery.

Goonhilly itself is an icon of both technology and culture, and retains a special place for people of my generation – growing up, its name was synonymous with space and communications. And it has been the inspiration for a number of musical tributes, including a concert to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first moon landing.

Next week #3: Crystal Radio

 

Regulating Social Media….

The term “mainstream media” (or MSM) is generally used as a derogatory term to describe traditional news services (print, broadcast, on-line), especially by anyone who thinks that MSM does not reflect what’s “really going on” in politics, society and the wider arena of current affairs. Depending on which conspiracy theories or political agenda you follow, if MSM doesn’t agree with or express your viewpoint, it’s become very easy to dismiss the Fourth Estate as an instrument of the (deep) State, or merely serving the interests of an oligarchy of wealthy media owners and press barons. This dialectic is sometimes described as the Fifth Estate – those bloggers, podcasters, citizen journalists and marginalized voices that seek to pursue their version(s) of the truth via new content platforms.

Although the tradition of the counter-culture as represented by this Fifth Estate has a very long history, its growth has been accelerated and amplified thanks to new digital technologies in general, and social media brands in particular. The problem is, not only is social media challenging (and ignoring) many of the rules and conventions that underpin the social contract between the public and the traditional media outlets, our governments and regulators cannot keep up with the pace of technology.

In the late 1980s, when I studied sub-editing and basic journalism at night school, the ethos of The Five Ws of Journalism were still taught as the essentials of any credible news outlet or publication. This was also a time when the media was going through significant changes, from new content technology to cross-border ownership, from multi-channel narrow-casting to 24-hour rolling news formats – yet the principles of source verification, fact-checking, libel laws and the right to reply were generally still seen as crucial to instilling public trust and confidence in the media (alongside a healthy dose of scepticism to not believe everything that we read in the paper!).

Now, with social media grabbing more of our attention, and with large, global and engaged audiences on their platforms, who are getting more of their news from these channels, the term “MSM” could easily apply to social media itself. Hence the term “legacy media” has emerged to describe traditional news services.

Whether it’s Facebook wanting to be the “world’s newspaper” or X positioning itself as the global “public square”, it’s clear that these new media barons are in many ways no different to the aging media moguls they seek to displace. Newspapers don’t make money from their cover price or even subscriptions – most revenue comes from advertising and the “rivers of gold” it represents. Now, those advertising dollars are on-line, and tied to our social media accounts and the proliferation of posts, “likes” and “shares” (as well as our personal data).

So how should we think about regulating social media, if the old rules no longer apply?

First, the policy, regulatory and industry framework to oversee social media needs to be simplified and streamlined. In Australia alone, based on a cursory internet search, I identified more than a dozen entities (government, agency, association) that have some form of oversight of social media. Apart from being highly inefficient, surely it doesn’t have to be this complicated? (And complexity and ambiguity can embolden those who seek to flout convention.)

Second, if a social media platform wants to be taken seriously as a trusted news source, and if it aspire to be recognsied as a publication of record, it has to adopt some fundamental principles such as The Five W’s. It’s all very well saying that these platforms are anti-censorship, and pro-free speech, but those rights come with a heap of legal and social responsibilities. To argue that these platforms are merely conduits for public opinion (rather then being content publishers) undermines agency theory. Given that I am not entitled to a social media account (I don’t think it’s yet risen to being a fundamental human right?), and that I don’t own my account (often, not even the content I post), social media companies act as our agents. They give us permission to use their services, and they ultimately control what we post on their digital real estate. They also use algorithms to manipulate what is served up in our feeds. Social media should therefore be held accountable for content that it enables to be disseminated; take more responsibility for any libel, lies or dis/misinformation issued on its platform; and risk prosecution for any content that promotes, encourages or incites violence, insurrection and public disorder.

Third, the fact that much of the content on social media is user-generated should not absolve these platforms from having to provide a formal right of reply, as well as adhering to a recognised and independent dispute resolution service. This will enable alleged victims of on-line bullying, harassment, personal abuse and outright lies to seek redress, without having to embark on expensive legal proceedings. (Of course, if social media companies maintained fact checking and other verification tools, they should be able to mitigate, if not eradicate, the need to invoke these mechanisms in the first place.)

Finally, any reputable social media company should be willing to sign up to minimum standards of practice in respect of content originated or disseminated on its platform, as well as observing existing regulation around personal data, data protection, cyber-security, privacy, intellectual property rights and general consumer protections. At the very least, social media has to prove itself a credible alternative to the legacy media it seeks to displace, otherwise they are not the solution, just another part of the problem.

The Five Ws of Journalism

The importance of a free press within a democratic society cannot be overstated: without the Fourth Estate who will “speak truth unto power”? The role of the printing press was critical to the Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the great political reforms in nineteenth century Britain.

But lapses in journalistic behaviour and a decline in editorial standards over the past few decades have brought the press and broadcast media into increasing disrepute – to the point that mainstream media (MSM) has become a pejorative term, and social media (SoMe) claims to be the last bastion of free speech.

I think the truth lies somewhere between those two positions – I don’t believe that the MSM is totally devoid of ethics, nor do I believe that SoMe will displace formal journalism (and it certainly isn’t without its own ethical challenges when it comes to dis/misinformation and hate speech).

But what do I mean by “formal journalism”? After all, we have seen a raft of platforms giving rise to “citizen journalism” and other services which rely heavily on community sourced content, but few of these platforms appear to operate to the same professional standards of traditional reportage, fact-checking, investigative journalism or news dissemination. It also remains to be seen whether these new media channels can displace traditional print (and online) news media as “papers of record”.

As part of a career transition, I took a night class in journalism and sub-editing, with a view to becoming a writer or editor. Although I did work as an editor for many years, it was in the field of legal publishing, and not for a newspaper or magazine. Even though the course I completed was not a traditional degree in journalism, communications or media studies, I was still taught some of the key tenets of serious journalism, principally the Five W’s – the “who, what, where, when and why” of any news event (with the “how” also being an important component of any credible story).

This foundational approach to news reporting underpinned many of the most significant pieces of investigative journalism in the late 20th century, some of which changed laws and government policies, as well as influencing public opinion. Think of the role of the press in breaking the thalidomide story, publishing the Pentagon Papers, or exposing the Watergate cover-up. Even the Panama Papers relied on the collaboration of traditional news media outlets to bring the story to public attention. More recently, the work of Private Eye in helping to bring the UK’s post office miscarriage of justice to light is a prime example of the power of journalistic persistence in search of the truth.

On the other hand, a raft of tabloid scandals have dented the public trust in the traditional press, in particular the phone hacking exploits within the British media. Here in Australia, a recent high profile defamation case prompted the judge to put TV journalism under the microscope – and neither broadcaster involved in the case came away covered in glory. In particular, the court questioned whether the journalists involved had breached their own industry code of practice, by failing to check their facts and by inadequately testing the credibility of their witnesses. The grubby practice of cheque book journalism also came under renewed scrutiny, as did an ill-advised speech on TV by one of the parties that could have been prejudicial to a criminal case. More significantly, one media organisation displayed a willingness to believe (and even assert) that there had been a political conspiracy to suppress an alleged crime, when no such evidence of a cover-up had been established. This case (and its associated claims and counterclaims) still has a fair way to go, and has already embroiled senior politicians (some of whom have been accused of lying about what they knew, when and how), civil servants, political staffers, public prosecutors, multiple police forces, so-called “fixers” and “influencers” with their insidious “back grounding” and a number of TV producers who will probably never work in the industry again.

Added to this sh!t show has been the misnaming of a suspected murderer by one of the above-mentioned TV news channels. This major and latest faux-pas is believed to have been the result of “reporting” some false, misleading or mischievous commentary circulating on social media.

Apart from undertaking more rigorous fact-checking, and enforcing the established journalistic practice of getting actual confirmation of events from at least two credible sources, the news media also needs to make a greater distinction between the facts themselves on the one hand, and conjecture, speculation, opinion, analysis and commentary on the other.

Next week: Is it OK to take selfies in the gym?