Category Archives: Society

BYOB (Bring Your Own Brain)

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My Twitter and LinkedIn feeds are full of posts about artificial intelligence, machine learning, large language models, robotics and automation – and how these technologies will impact our jobs and our employment prospects, often in very dystopian tones. It can be quite depressing to trawl through this material, to the point of being overwhelmed by the imminent prospect of human obsolescence.

No doubt, getting to grips with these tools will be important if we are to navigate the future of work, understand the relationship between labour, capital and technology, and maintain economic relevance in a world of changing employment models.

But we have been here before, many times (remember the Luddites?), and so far, the human condition means we learn to adapt in order to survive. These transitions will be painful, and there will be casualties along the way, but there is cause for optimism if we remember our post-industrial history.

First, among recent Twitter posts there was a timely reminder that automation does not need to equal despair in the face of displaced jobs.

Second, the technology at our disposal will inevitably make us more productive as well as enabling us to reduce mundane or repetitive tasks, even freeing up more time for other (more creative) pursuits. The challenge will be in learning how to use these tools, and in efficient and effective ways so that we don’t swap one type of routine for another.

Third, there is still a need to consider the human factor when it comes to the work environment, business structures and organisational behaviour – not least personal interaction, communication skills and stakeholder management. After all, you still need someone to switch on the machines, and tell them what to do!

Fourth, the evolution of “bring your own device” (and remote working) means that many of us have grown accustomed to having a degree of autonomy in the ways in which we organise our time and schedule our tasks – giving us the potential for more flexible working conditions. Plus, we have seen how many apps we use at home are interchangeable with the tools we use for work – and although the risk is that we are “always on”, equally, we can get smarter at using these same technologies to establish boundaries between our work/life environments.

Fifth, all the technology in the world is not going to absolve us of the need to think for ourselves. We still need to bring our own cognitive faculties and critical thinking to an increasingly automated, AI-intermediated and virtual world. If anything, we have to ramp up our cerebral powers so that we don’t become subservient to the tech, to make sure the tech works for us (and not the other way around).

Adopting a new approach means:

  • not taking the tech for granted
  • being prepared to challenge the tech assumptions (and not be complicit in its in-built biases)
  • question the motives and intentions of the tech developers, managers and owners (especially those of known or suspected bad actors)
  • validate all the newly-available data to gain new insights (not repeat past mistakes)
  • evaluate the evidence based on actual events and outcomes
  • and not fall prey to hyperbolic and cataclysmic conjectures

Finally, it is interesting to note the recent debates on regulating this new tech – curtailing malign forces, maintaining protections on personal privacy, increasing data security, and ensuring greater access for those currently excluded. This is all part of a conscious narrative (that human component!) to limit the extent to which AI will be allowed to run rampant, and to hold tech (in all its forms) more accountable for the consequences of its actions.

Next week: “The Digital Director”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Journey Through England

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As travel restrictions have eased over the past 12 months, I’ve been taking advantage of the opportunity to visit family and friends overseas.

Late last year, I spent a month in the UK, and it was a trip of very mixed experiences. It was the first time I had been back in nearly 4 years, the longest period of time I have ever been away from the country of my birth.

It’s nearly 30 years since I left London to live and work abroad, and even though I am still “from” the UK, I don’t really consider myself to be “of” it. Despite family ties and social links, with each visit back I feel less and less connected to the place. As a result, I tend to experience my time there as a visitor, rather than a returning expat.

This sense of dislocation has become especially evident since Brexit, and the quagmire that is UK domestic politics. Not only does the political environment feel quite alienating, the profile of the political leadership is almost unrecognisable: last time I was back, Theresa May was still Prime Minister; when I arrived in early November, Rishi Sunak was in the second week of his Premiership.

Luckily, the rolling programme of public sector strikes and other industrial unrest had limited impact on my own travel schedule, even though it has become almost impossible to plan train journeys too far ahead thanks to unreliable timetables and complex booking systems. Fortunately, the grocery shortages evident during the UK winter had yet to take hold, and before I left Australia, I had managed to lock in a favourable exchange rate to offset the effect of inflation.

I spent most of the time in the Peak District, but also visited Manchester, Sheffield, Milton Keynes, London and Kent – a north-west to south-east trajectory. The Dark Peak was my base, and I really appreciate the scenery in and around the town of Glossop, where I stayed – but for a town that used to boast one of the highest number of pubs per capita, quite a few local hostelries were only open from Thursday to Sunday, probably a consequence of Covid, energy costs and broader inflation?

Manchester itself was a dispiriting experience – the city centre (Piccadilly Gardens) resembled a zombie theme park, and there was a palpable sense of anger and an all-pervading threat of violence in the air. Maybe I was there on a bad day, but the overall mood was definitely “off”. By contrast, Sheffield city centre, which I’d not visited since the early 1990s, felt welcoming and had a much more positive vibe.

I have to admit to being pleasantly surprised by my weekend in Milton Keynes. Its reputation, as a planned New Town, for being soulless and devoid of personality is probably undeserved. Yes, it helps if you know how to navigate the network of roundabouts and ring roads (anyone familiar with Canberra would have sense of déjà vu), but I can definitely see the attraction, especially for families, with its acres of space and many recreational activities. If necessary, it’s possible to commute to London, plus there are nearby country parks and village pubs to frequent on the weekends.

Despite my familiarity with the geography and fabric of London, I now see it through the eyes of a tourist. Even though the overall layout remains the same, the constant changes in the built landscape can disorient the infrequent visitor. Because I no longer rely on it every day for work, I actually think London’s public transport has improved, but I’m sure it would only take a strike on the underground, or the wrong type of leaves on the train tracks at Clapham Junction to disabuse me of this situation. While London has always existed in an economic bubble in relation to the rest of the country, it probably wouldn’t take much to undermine the city’s renewed self-confidence as it tries to navigate a post-Brexit role in international banking, finance, trade and commerce.

Judging by a financial services conference I attended, compared to the same conference 4 years ago, there was a lot more focus on regulation as the UK (and the City in particular) disentangles itself from the EU – and as in many other areas, there is confusion about the transition process: understanding which rules continue unaffected; the scope and impact of any interim arrangements; and the anticipation of totally new measures yet to come into force.

Of course, the worst of petty British bureaucracy probably doesn’t even need the headache of Brexit to tie itself in knots. One small example I witnessed: in a country pub, I was told at the bar that I could not be served soy milk with my tea, and that the barman risked losing his license if he complied with my request – but oat milk was OK; and bizarrely, dishes that contained soy and served in the pub restaurant were also available. Go figure. I still can’t work out whether this was a quirk of local licensing laws, a capricious whim of the hotelier, or just a cranky member of staff.

My final port of call was the outer London suburbia of north-west Kent. Close enough to the London bubble to be popular with commuters, it’s also where I spent much of my childhood and teenage years. I wouldn’t say that familiarity breeds contempt, but it gets increasingly hard to feel any nostalgia for the place. Whenever I go back, it naturally feels much smaller (physically, socially, culturally) than when I was growing up there. Fortunately, when I caught up with a bunch of high school friends (all of whom have long since moved away from the area), there was a “very comfortable familiarity”, as one of our group described it afterwards: “not overly nostalgic but warm and generous. It’s the kind of thing I might have disdained when younger but I really enjoy it.” There speaks the wisdom of age(ing).

There’s no doubt a great deal I should be grateful for having been born in the UK, and probably a lot more that I take for granted as a result when I am there: walks in the country, spending some quality time with close family, good pub meals, excellent art exhibitions, even the inter-city train journeys through “England’s green and pleasant land” (no irony intended). All of which make the many varied and minor disappointments even harder to accept – I somehow expect better of the place, even after all this time away.

Next week: Hong Kong – Then and Now

 

Eat The Rich?

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There has recently been a spate of satirical films and TV series that take aim at the vanity, self-indulgence and sense of entitlement of the uber-rich. I’m thinking in particular of “The Menu”, “The Triangle of Sadness”, “Glass Onion” and “White Lotus”.  You could also include “Succession” on that list (especially in light of the latest revelations from the House of Murdoch), but this is more of a traditional drama than the others, both in terms of format and content.

Nothing radically new in these stories, their themes or the way they plot their narratives. What is perhaps surprising is the fact that these are not small, independent, art-house productions. They have substantial budgets, exotic locations, stylish design, creative cinematography, and some big names in the credits.

Plus, they receive major theatrical releases, or are luring audiences to premium streaming services. So, they are generally commercial. Best of all, they are attracting awards and nominations – which should hopefully encourage studios to invest in more projects like these (rather than green-lighting yet another sequel in the never-ending round of comic book and super hero franchises).

Of course, these particular stories could simply represent a sign of the times, reflecting current world events, and holding up a mirror to our social-media obsessed age. They also resonate with audiences who are looking for some escapism in the form of critiques of the upper classes, the filthy rich, the social elites, the global power brokers, and those hangers-on who hover and follow in their wake.

I wouldn’t suggest these productions are waging a form of class war, but they represent a kind of morality play: why would anyone want to feel jealous of, let alone become, these people?

Next week: A Journey Through England

 

Recap…

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My last blog was about the Voice… so as the debate on the proposed referendum gains momentum, and while both sides begin to frame their campaigns, it felt like a good time to revisit some earlier posts on this topic.

First, the thorny issue of Australia Day continues to cause discomfort, for the Indigenous population, professional cricketers and politicians alike. But as evidenced during last week’s Invasion Day gatherings, the Voice has even managed to cause division within the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community, some of whom have indicated their intention either to boycott the referendum process or to vote “no”. The “no” campaign itself will likely be split between those holding more radical views, and those representing more conservative values.

Second, a large component of the Indigenous community calling for a “no” vote is predicated on the question of Sovereignty and the need for Treaty and/or Republic before anything else. The apparent discord again reveals some weaknesses in the structure of Australia’s Constitutional Monarchy, and even the model of Federation itself. The disconnect between the foundation of the Commonwealth of Australia, and the marking of Australia Day suggest that there are perhaps bigger constitutional matters that need to be resolved first.

Third, the Voice is again forcing Australia as a country to reflect on its own identity, to reassess its place in the world, to re-connect with its core values, and even to find its purpose. It’s a topic, like Treaty and Republic, that continues to challenge our politicians and thought leaders. Can Australia continue its claim to be a democratic, socially progressive, pluralistic, secular and technology advanced country if the Head of State continues to be the British Monarch (who also happens to be the Supreme Governor of the Church of England), if we still practice all sorts of segregation and discrimination in the name of faith-based institutions, if we are unable/unwilling to address the issue of Sovereignty, and if our economic success is still over-dependent upon outdated industries and business practices? The Voice referendum may not be designed to address these specific questions, but the result will have tremendous consequences on the future of our political, social and economic institutions.

Finally, my own current thinking is generally in support of the referendum for the Indigenous Voice to Parliament. However, I would like to see more certainty about how the Voice will work in practical terms, if not more detail on the Parliamentary processes themselves. I also think there should be more clarity on where the Voice sits on the path towards a Treaty, and the formation of a Republic, and what comes next, since these issues are all inextricably linked. But if it transpires that a large component of the Indigenous community is against the referendum, it will probably cause me to rethink my own position.

Next week: Kick-start