Machine learning

For decades, technologists imagined teaching machines. Instead, although edtech is indeed permeating classrooms, human teachers have remained in demand. And then came generative AI…

At Rest of World, Laura RodrĂ­guez Salamanca explores AI’s impact in rural Colombia classrooms since Meta added AI bots to WhatsApp, Instagram, and Facebook and made copying and pasting answers frictionless. Result: first, a big leap in the quality of homework, then kids failing exams.

From a tiny set of conversations, it seems little different in the UK. Underlying is one of those existential questions: what is education for? For many of today’s kids, it’s just a series of hoops to jump through rather than something to love for itself. The result, says a teacher friend, is enormous amounts of pressure on kids from all sides.

“Kids are breaking under the pressure,” she says, adding that they are burdened with far more work than in previous generations. “There’s much less time for discussion or being a human. It’s all about learning to write an essay for maximum marks.” Small wonder if they are attracted to shortcuts.

A university lecturer tells me that at his institution there’s a general argument that AI is part of the world and students should know how to use it productively, but little guidance on acceptable use. Recently, he tried letting students use AI as a critical thinking exercise, focusing on a historical event whose cause is not definitively known. The results were disappointing, as he found it hard to get the students past what the AI said. One student did read a paper the chatbot recommended, but lacked the basic textbook knowledge to recognize that the paper was wrong.

“It’s an ongoing problem, and not that different from Google Scholar or PubMed,” he says.

Thirty years ago, there was a plagiarism panic, as students discovered all the material they could copy from the Internet at large. Kids I spoke to then sounded just like an annoyed university student friend now: people who use these shortcuts are cheating themselves out of their education.

There is some research to support this view. At the MIT Media Lab, Nataliya Kos’myna finds that using generative AI for essay-writing correlates to lower engagement to the point that users “struggled to accurately quote their own work”.

Of course, even before that, student clubs kept copies of old exams, or cribbed from the translations readily found in library stacks. My teacher friend thinks the difference is significant: “They were still engaging with the material to a degree you don’t have to with ChatGPT”. I tell her the story that sparked my interest at the time: a US professor had received a paper about a student’s religious faith and their struggle when deciding to have an abortion – submitted by a male student.

As a counter, she points out that led to services like Turnitin, long widely used to check for copying. “The Internet has made plagiarism a lot easier to detect.” But, she says, chatbots’ output passes the plagiarism checkers. Those are now in an arms race to detect generative AI while it keeps improving.

My university student friend nonetheless finds fellow students using chatbots to generate text, which is against her university’s rules (they do allow students to use chatbots to find citations). In her observations, students are more likely to get away with it for short answers where longer ones are more likely to get flagged. Similarly, in small seminars it’s harder to use chatbot output without being caught; it’s easier to get away with it in larger classes. She also sees it more in subject areas like business, accounting, and economics, where the degree is meant to lead directly to a job.

She finds it surprising. “I don’t understand the point in an academic setting. Why waste the opportunity when you’re the one who will have to pay the student loans?” In her only attempt, she tried to get the chatbot to generate vocabulary flash cards: “There was missing information and some were wrong.” She found it quicker to make her own.

It’s harder for her to suggest what universities should do about it. “There’s a drought of [valuing learning for its own sake] in general. A lot go only because their parents expect them to.”

Like plagiarism detectors, teachers are trying to adapt. In the Rest of World article, RodrĂ­guez Salamanca profiles a teacher who now builds classroom debates around hyperlocal topics unlikely to feature in large language models. In a UK university setting, however, assessing students based on oral debate poses problems: the potential for bias, the need to accommodate non-native speakers and those who have come out of different education systems, and differing cultural norms around classroom behavior. After covid began, many exams shifted to open book; the arrival of chatbots has led my university contact to try to set questions that force the use of multiple sources and that are intended to be things that LLMs don’t handle well.

“We will have to drive more person-to-person,” says the secondary school teacher, citing an example seen on social media of a teacher who gave students a practice exam and time for them to read it together and discuss it before setting them to work on it. “There are implications for workload. But if you can do a lot of routine homework as automated and checked, then you can focus on the meat in the classroom. It makes it a more important place.”

Illustrations: “The Schoolroom”, by Henry Raleigh (from the Smithsonian American Art Museum).

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Big bang

In 2008, when the recording industry was successfully lobbying for an extension to the term of copyright to 95 years, I wrote about a spectacular unfairness that was affecting numerous folk and other musicians. Because of my own history and sometimes present with folk music, I am most familiar with this area of music, which aside from a few years in the 1960s has generally operated outside of the world of commercial music.

The unfairness was this: the remnants of a label that had recorded numerous long-serving and excellent musicians in the 1970s were squatting on those recordings and refusing to either rerelease them or return the rights. The result was both artistic frustration and deprivation of a sorely-needed source of revenue.

One of these musicians is the Scottish legend Dick Gaughan, who had a stroke in 2016 and was forced to give up performing. Gaughan, with help from friends, is taking action: a GoFundMe is raising the money to pay “serious lawyers” to get his rights back. Whether one loved his early music or not – and I regularly cite Gaughan as an important influence on what I play – barring him from benefiting from his own past work is just plain morally wrong. I hope he wins through; and I hope the case sets a precedent that frees other musicians’ trapped work. Copyright is supposed to help support creators, not imprison their work in a vault to no one’s benefit.

***

This has been the first week of requiring age verification for access to online content in the UK; the law came into effect on July 25. Reddit and Bluesky, as noted here two weeks ago, were first, but with Ofcom starting enforcement, many are following. Some examples: Spotify; X (exTwitter); Pornhub.

Two classes of problems are rapidly emerging: technical and political. On the technical side, so far it seems like every platform is choosing a different age verification provider. These AVPs are generally unfamiliar companies in a new market, and we are being asked to trust them with passports, driver’s licenses, credit cards, and selfies for age estimation. Anyone who uses multiple services will find themselves having to widely scatter this sensitive information. The security and privacy risks of this should be obvious. Still, Dan Malmo reports at the Guardian that AVPs are already processing five million age checks a day. It’s not clear yet if that’s a temporary burst of one-time token creation or a permanently growing artefact of repetitious added friction, like cookie banners.

X says it will examine users’ email addresses and contact books to help estimate ages. Some systems reportedly send referring page links, opening the way for the receiving AVP to store these and build profiles. Choosing a trustworthy VPN can be tricky, and these intermediaries are in a position to log what you do and exploit the results.

The BBC’s fact-checking service finds that a wide range of public interest content, including news about Ukraine and Gaza and Parliamentary debates, is being blocked on Reddit and X. Sex workers see adults being locked out of legal content.

Meanwhile, many are signing up for VPNs at pace, as predicted. The spike has led to rumors that the government is considering banning them. This seems unrealistic: many businesses rely on VPNs to secure connections for remote workers. But the idea is alarming; its logical extension is the war on general-purpose computation Cory Doctorow foresaw as a consequence of digital rights management in 2011. A terrible and destructive policy can serve multiple masters’ interests and is more likely to happen if it does.

On the political side, there are three camps. One wants the legislation repealed. Another wants to retain aspects many people agree on, such criminalizing cyberflashing and some other types of online abuse, and fix its flaws. The third thinks the OSA doesn’t go far enough, and they’re already saying they want it expanded to include all services, generative AI, and private messaging.

More than 466,000 people have signed a petition calling on the government to repeal the OSA. The government responded: thanks, but no. It will “work with Ofcom” to ensure enforcement will be “robust but proportionate”.

Concrete proposals for fixing the OSA’s worst flaws are rare, but a report from the Open Rights Group offers some; it advises an interoperable system that gives users choice and control over methods and providers. Age verification proponents often compare age-gating websites to ID checks in bars and shops, but those don’t require you to visit a separate shop the proprietor has chosen and hand over personal information. At Ctrl-Shift, Kirra Pendergast explains some of the risks.

Surrounding all that is noise. A US lawyer wants to sue Ofcom in a US federal court (huh?). Reform leader Nigel Farage has called for the Act’s repeal, which led technology secretary Peter Kyle to accuse him – and then anyone else who criticizes the act – of being on the side of sexual predators. Kyle told Mumsnet he apologizes to the generation of UK kids who were “let down” by being exposed to toxic online content because politicians failed to protect them all this time. “Never again…”

In other news, this government has lowered the voting age to 16.

Illustrations: The back cover of Dick Gaughan’s out-of-print 1972 first album, No More Forever.

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winnning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Magic math balls

So many ironies, so little time. According to the Financial Times (and syndicated at Ars Technica), the US government, which itself has traditionally demanded law enforcement access to encrypted messages and data, is pushing the UK to drop its demand that Apple weaken its encryption. Normally, you want to say, Look here, countries are entitled to have their own laws whether the US likes it or not. But this is not a law we like!

This all began in February, when the Washington Post reported that the UK’s Home Office had issued Apple with a Technical Capability Notice. Issued under the Investigatory Powers Act (2016) and supposed to be kept secret, the TCN demanded that Apple undermine the end-to-end encryption used for iCloud’s Advanced Data Protection feature. Much protest ensued, followed by two legal cases in front of the Investigatory Powers Tribunal, one brought by Apple, the other by Privacy International and Liberty. WhatsApp has joined Apple’s legal challenge.

Meanwhile, Apple withdrew ADP in the UK. Some people argued this didn’t really matter, as few used it, which I’d call a failure of user experience design rather than an indication that people didn’t care about it. More of us saw it as setting a dangerous precedent for both encryption and the use of secret notices undermining cybersecurity.

The secrecy of TCNs is clearly wrong and presents a moral hazard for governments that may prefer to keep vulnerabilities secret so they can take advantage for surveillance purposes. Hopefully, the Tribunal will eventually agree and force a change in the law. The Foundation for Information Policy Research (obDisclosure: I’m a FIPR board member) has published a statement explaining the issues.

According to the Financial Times, the US government is applying a sufficiently potent threat of tariffs to lead the UK government to mull how to back down. Even without that particular threat, it’s not clear how much the UK can resist. As Angus Hanton documented last year in the book Vassal State, the US has many well-established ways of exerting its influence here. And the vectors are growing; Keir Starmer’s Labour government seems intent on embedding US technology and companies into the heart of government infrastructure despite the obvious and increasing risks of doing so. When I read Hanton’s book earlier this year, I thought remaining in the EU might have provided some protection, but Caroline Donnelly warns at Computer Weekly that they, too, are becoming dangerously dependent on US technology, specifically Microsoft.

It’s tempting to blame everything on the present administration, but the reality is that the US has long used trade policy and treaties to push other countries into adopting laws regardless of their citizens’ preferences.

***

As if things couldn’t get any more surreal, this week the Trump administration *also* issued an executive order banning “woke AI” in the federal government. AI models are in future supposed to be “politically neutral”. So, as Kevin Roose writes at the New York Times, the culture wars are coming for AI.

The US president is accusing chatbots of “Marxist lunacy”, where the rest of the world calls them inaccurate, biased toward repeating and expanding historical prejudices, and inconsistent. We hear plenty about chatbots adopting Nazi tropes; I haven’t heard of one promoting workers’ and migrants’ rights.

If we know one thing about AI models it’s that they’re full of crap all the way down. The big problem is that people are deploying them anyway. At the Canary, Steve Topple reports that the UK’s Department of Work and Pensions admits in a newly-published report that its algorithm for assessing whether benefit claimants might commit fraud is ageist and and racist. A helpful executive order would set must-meet standards for *accuracy*. But we do not live in those times.

The Guardian reports that two more Trump EOs expedite building new data centers, promote exports of American AI models, expand the use of AI in the federal government, and intend to solidify US dominance in the field. Oh, and Trump would really like if it people would stop calling it “artificial” and find a new name. Seven years ago, aspirational intelligence” seemed like a good idea. But that was back when we heard a lot about incorporating ethics. So…”magic math ball”?

These days, development seems to proceed ethics-free. DWP’s report, for example, advocates retraining its flawed algorithm but says continuing to operate it is “reasonable and proportionate”. In 2021, for European Digital Rights Initiative, Agathe Balayn and Seda GĂĽrses found, “Debiasing locates the problems and solutions in algorithmic inputs and outputs, shifting political problems into the domain of design, dominated by commercial actors.” In other words, no matter what you think is “neutral”, training data, model, and algorithms are only as “neutral” as their wider context allows them to be.

Meanwhile, nothing to curb the escalating waste. At 404 Media, Emanuel Maiberg finds that Spotify is publishing AI-generated songs from dead artists without anyone’s’ permission. On Monday, MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow told viewers that there’s so much “AI slop ” about her that they’ve posted Is That Really Rachel? to catalog and debunk them.

As Ed Zitron writes, the opportunity costs are enormous.

In the UK, the US, and many other places, data centers are threatening the water supply.

But sure, let’s make more of that.

Illustrations: Magic 8 ball toy (via frankieleon at Wikimedia).

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her website has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Cautionary tales

I’ve been online for nearly 34 years, and I’m thinking of becoming a child. Or at least, a child to big user-to-user social media services, which next week will start asking for proof of adulthood. On July 25, the new age verification requirements under the Online Safety Act come into effect in the UK. The regulator, Ofcom, has published a guide.

Plenty of companies aim to join this new market. Some are familiar: credit scorers Experian and Transunion. Others are new: Yoti, which we saw demonstrated back in 2016, and Sam Altman and Andreessen Horowitz-backed six-year-old startup World, which recently did a promotional tour for the UK launch of its Orb identification system. Summary: many happy privacy words, but still dubious.

Reddit picked Persona; Dearbail Jordan at the BBC says Redditors will need to upload either a selfie for age estimation or a government-issued ID. Reddit says it will not see this data, only storing each user’s verification status along with the birth date they’ve (optionally) provided.

Bluesky has chosen Kids’ Web Services from Epic Games. The announcement says KWS accepts multiple options: payment cards, ID scans, and face scans. Users who decline to supply this information will be denied access to adult content and direct messaging. How much do I care about either? Would I rather just be a child to two-year-old Bluesky?

On older sites my adulthood ought to be obvious: I joined Twitter/X in 2008 and Reddit in 2015. Do the math, guys! I suppose there is a chance I could have created the account, forgotten it, and then revived it for a child (the “older brother problem”), but I’m not sure these third-party verifiers solve that either.

Everyone wants to protect children. But it doesn’t make sense to do it by creating a system that exposes everyone, including children, to new privacy risks. In its report on how to fix the OSA, the Open Rights Group argues that interoperability and portability should be first principles, and that users should be able to choose providers and methods. Today, the social media companies don’t see age verification data; in five years will they be buying up those providers? These first steps matter, as they are setting the template for what is to come.

This is the opening of a floodgate. On June 27 the US Supreme Court ruled in Free Speech Coalition v. Paxton to uphold a law requiring pornographic websites to verify users’ ages through government-issued ID. At TechDirt, Mike Masnick called the ruling taking a chainsaw to the First Amendment.

It’s easy to predict that here will be scandals surrounding the data age verifiers collect, and others where technological failures let children access the wrong sort of content. We’ll hear less about the frustrations of people who are blocked by age verification from essential information. Meanwhile, child safety folks will continue pushing for new levels of control.

The big question is this: how will we know if it’s working? What does “success” look like?

***

At Platformer, Casey Newton covers Substack’s announcement that it has closed series C funding round of $100 million, valuing the company at $1.1 billion. The eight-year-old company gets to say it’s a unicorn.

Newton tries to understand how Substack is worth that. He predicts – logically – that its only choice to justify its venture capitalists’ investment will be rampant enshittification. These guys don’t put in that kind of money without expecting a full-bore return, which is why Newton is dubious about the founders’ promise to invest most of that newly-raised capital in creators. Recall the stages Cory Doctorow laid out: first they amass as many users as possible; then they abuse those users to amass as many business customers (advertisers) as possible; then they squeeze everyone.

Substack, which announced four months ago that it – or, more correctly, its creators – has more than 5 million paid subscriptions, is different in that its multi-sided market structure is more like Uber or Amazon Marketplace than like a social media site or traditional publisher. It has users (readers and listeners), creators (like Uber’s drivers or Amazon’s sellers), and customers (advertisers). Viewed that way, it’s easy to see Substack’s most likely path: raise prices (users and advertisers), raise thresholds and commissions (creators), and, like Amazon, force sellers (creators) into using fee-based additional services in order to stay afloat. Plus, it must crush the competition. See similar math from Anil Dash.

Less ponderable is the headwind of Substack’s controversial hospitality to extremists, noted in 2023 by Jonathan Katz at The Atlantic. Some creators – like Newton – have opted to leave for competitor Ghost, which is both open source and cheaper. Many friends refuse to pay Substack even when they want to support creators whose work they admire. At the time, Stephen Bush responded at the Financial Times that Substack should admit that it’s not a publisher but a “handy bit of infrastructure for sending newsletters”. Is that worth $1.1 billion?

Like earlier Silicon Valley companies, Substack is planning to reverse its previous disdain for advertising, as Benjamin Mullin and Jessica Testa report at the New York Times. The company is apparently also looking forward to embracing social networking.

So, no really new ideas, then?

Illustrations: Unicorn (by Pearson Scott Foresman via Wikimedia.

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Conundrum

It took me six hours of listening to people with differing points of view discuss AI and copyright at a workshop, organized by the Sussex Centre for Law and Technology at the Sussex Humanities Lab (SHL), to come up with a question that seemed to me significant: what is all this talk about who “wins the AI race”? The US won the “space race” in 1969, and then for 50 years nothing happened.

Fretting about the “AI race”, an argument at least one participant used to oppose restrictions on using copyrighted data for training AI models, is buying into several ideas that are convenient for Big Tech.

One: there is a verifiable endpoint everyone’s trying to reach. That isn’t anything like today’s “AI”, which is a pile of math and statistics predicting the most likely answers to prompts. Instead, they mean artificial general intelligence, which would be as much like generative AI as I am like a mushroom.

Two: it’s a worthy goal. But is it? Why don’t we talk about the renewables race, the zero carbon race, or the sustainability race? All of those could be achievable. Why just this well-lobbied fantasy scenario?

Three: we should formulate public policy to eliminate “barriers” that might stop us from winning it. *This* is where we run up against copyright, a subject only a tiny minority used to care about, but that now affects everyone. And, accordingly, everyone has had time to formulate an opinion since the Internet first challenged the historical operation of intellectual property.

The law as it stands is clear: making a copy is the exclusive right of the rightsholder. This is the basis of AI-related lawsuits. For training data to escape that law, it would have to be granted an exemption: ruled fair use (as in the Anthropic and Meta cases), create an exception for temporary copies, or shoehorned into existing exceptions such as parody. Even then, copyright law is administered territorially, so the US may call it fair use but the rest of the world doesn’t have to agree. This is why the esteemed legal scholar Pamela Samuelson has said copyright law poses an existential threat to generative AI.

But, as one participant pointed out, although the entertainment industry dominates these discussions, there are many other sectors with different needs. Science, for example, both uses and studies AI, and is built on massive amounts of public funding. Surely that data should be free to access?

I wanted to be at this meeting because what should happen with AI, training data, and copyright is a conundrum. You do not have to work for a technology company to believe that there is value in allowing researchers both within and outwith companies to work on machine learning and build AI tools. When people balk at the impossible scale of securing permission from every copyright holder of every text, image, or sound, they have a point. The only organizations that could afford that are the companies we’re already mad at for being too big, rich, and powerful.

At the same time, why should we allow those big, rich, powerful companies to plunder our cultural domain without compensating anyone and extract even larger fortunes while doing it? To a published author who sees years of work reflected in a chatbot’s split-second answer to a prompt, it’s lost income and readers.

So for months, as Parliament has wrangled over the Data bill, the argument narrowed to copyright. Should there be an exception for data mining? Should technology companies have to get permission from creators and rights holders? Or should use of their work be automatically allowed, unless they opt out? All answers seem equally impossible. Technology companies would have to find every copyright holder of every datum to get permission. Licensing by the billion.

If creators must opt out, does that mean one piece at a time? How will they know when they need to opt out and who they have to notify? At the meeting, that was when someone said that the US and China won’t do this. Britain will fall behind internationally. Does that matter?

And yet, we all seemed to converge on this: copyright is the wrong tool. As one person said, technologies that threaten the entertainment industry always bring demands to tighten or expand copyright. See the last 35 years, in which Internet-fueled copying spawned the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and the EU Copyright Directive, and copyright terms expanded from 28 years, renewable once, to author’s life plus 70.

No one could suggest what the right tool would be. But there are good questions. Such as: how do we grant access to information? With business models breaking, is copyright still the right way to compensate creators? One of us believed strongly in the capabilities of collection societies – but these tend to disproportionately benefit the most popular creators, who will survive anyway.

Another proposed the highly uncontroversial idea of taxing the companies. Or levies on devices such as smartphones. I am dubious on this one: we have been there before.

And again, who gets the money? Very successful artists like Paul McCartney, who has been vocal about this? Or do we have a broader conversation about how to enable people to be artists? (And then, inevitably, who gets to be called an artist.)

I did not find clarity in all this. How to resolve generative AI and copyright remains complex and confusing. But I feel better about not having an answer.

Illustrations: Drunk parrot in a Putney garden (by Simon Bisson; used by permission).

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Second sight

“The colors came back,” a friend said. He was talking about the change after he had cataract surgery. My clinician, a retired surgeon, said something similar, that patients come in and exclaim: “I can’t believe how blue the sky is!”

I didn’t have that.

Cataracts develop slowly, so many don’t perceive how bad their vision has become. I knew. Because: my cataracts made it progressively harder for opticians to fully correct my myopia, an effect I first noticed in early 2018. For the next five or six years, my prescription notched up, and I’d be able to see reasonably clearly for about six months after getting new glasses. The next six months I’d curse the lack of clarity. Repeat until late 2023, when they said I was “ready” for surgery. At that point, I was about 20/40 with glasses.

I delayed for a while, and then had my right eye done in March. The right eye is due in a couple of weeks. So I’ve had four months to explore the difference.

It has been fascinating. And very different from John Berger‘s account, or James Thurber’s fuzzy few days without glasses in The Admiral on the Wheel.

I told the clinician I thought that even if I hadn’t been *seeing* colors exactly right I was interpreting them correctly. That turns out to be mostly true. The sky looks blue, or blue enough, and greens, reds, and yellows render fairly accurately.

This makes sense. The clinician says they generally believe that cataracts block blue light. “Isn’t it just a yellow cast over everything?” a friend asked. Not really.

To review: the primary colors of light are red, blue, and green. Red and blue make magenta; blue and green make cyan; green and red make yellow. Color printers print all colors using those three mixed colors, plus black: CMYK. It’s the difference between additive and subtractive color mixing – that is, starting with black (no color) and adding light, versus starting with white (all colors) and subtracting it. This seems weird at first encounter because schools teach the primary colors of mixing paints, which, as an increasing number of people are pointing out, is all wrong for the digital era.

In real life, my biggest cataract-related color shift turns bright purple flowers a dead greyish pink. A friend’s bright lavender walls grey down. Given that the remaining cataract has continued to densify, my original assessment holds up: I wasn’t losing much color information. I knew my friend’s walls were lavender without being told.

The biggest difference for me is that opticians can fully correct my eyesight again. So the operation has made the world brighter, whiter, and brought back crisp focus. At a recent conference, I could sit in the back and read the slides for the first time in probably five years. Although: blue highlights on the metal chair frames from overhead spotlights disappeared when I closed my post-op eye. Fun!

But then I watched an episode of the TV show Hacks in which Jean Smart wears a bright gold and black dress (above). When I closed my right eye, it turned….salmon. My real-life sweater of nearly the identical color *does not do this*. It is clearly an artifact of cataract plus screen.

Using an RGB color generator, I can say my right eye sees the dress as close to 255-220-0. My left eye sees it as roughly 255-220-150. Bright orange (~255-153-51) on my laptop screen also notably shifts, to a medium hot pink (~255-153-150 ). This suggests my cataract shifts green. Why?

Most other things look close to the same. Among the few exceptions: on an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David’s dark olive shirt looks grey with the pre-op eye, and Cheryl Hines’s pale yellow shirt turns almost white. Does this mean that eye is seeing more blue?

Fluorescent lighting also produces interesting artifacts: a bright lime green poster seen through the cataract seemed aqua.

There’s obviously a logical explanation for this; I just can’t quite work it out. Someone who understands the composition of these lighting conditions could doubtless easily explain what’s going on there (and I hope someone will!).

One final story. A couple of years ago, I saw a particularly stunning sunset out my loft window. Went to get the phone, and snapped a shot. I got back a pale, washed-out nothingburger. Went and got the better, more controllable, digital camera and tried again. Still washed out. Well, damn modern cameras and their autocorrection to what they think you should have seen. I knew about this, because in 2020, when Californians tried to take pictures of their wildfire-caused orange sky, they got grey. Bah.

Cut to April 2025. Same window. My left eye sees a really intense pink and orange sunset. My right eye…sees a washed-out nothingburger. *It wasn’t the camera.*

So, by next month I will have a fully sharp, crisp, bright world on both sides instead of a slightly dim fuzzball on one side. I will feel better balanced, and be better able to play tennis and bike. And I won’t go blind. But there’s a price. Because my post-op eye can’t do close-up the same way, I will grieve the loss of the superpower of being able to read the tiniest print unaided for the rest of my life. And I’ll lose the good sunsets.

Illustrations: Deborah Vance (Jean Smart), in Hacks (S03e01, “Just for Laughs”).

Addendum: With the pre-operative (left) eye, the purple and pink-ish flowers in this photo look the same color. The orangey flowers are slightly pinker, so *nearly* but noticeably not, the same color.

Three groups of flowers: purple, purplish pink, and orange-pink (salmon).
My pre-operative eye sees all these flowers as about the same color. The orangey ones are most noticeably different, but still closer to pink than they really are.

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Notes from Old Songs 2025

This is chiefly aimed at anyone who saw me at the Old Songs Folk Festival this past weekend. (If you missed it, better luck next year!)

The folk page on my website is here. There is a link on it to my page on open guitar tunings, which I intend to update with the extra tunings discussed at the workshop. For now, as Andy Cohen explained, Martin Carthy’s tuning was CGCDGA (you will need heavier strings on the top and bottom to avoid buzzing).

At the Friday night concert, Andy Cohan and I sang My Sweet Wyoming Home, by Bill Staines. It is (without Andy) on The Last Trip Home CD.

At the “You’ve Got to Be Kidding” workshop, I sang The Cowboy Fireman, by Harry McClintock; Old Zip Coon, traditional, which I learned from Michael Cooney; Cold, Blow, and the Rainy Night, learned from Planxty; and The Bionic Consumer, by Bill Steele.

At the ballad workshop, I sang Mary Hamilton, learned from Caroline Paton, who learned it from Hallie Wood; and Queen Amang the Heather, which I learned from a variety of Scottish singers, who learned it from Belle Stewart. Both of those are on The Last Trip Home CD.

At the “This Spoke to Me” workshop, I sang The Last Trip Home, written by Davy Steele; The Spirit of Mother Jones, written by Andy Irvine; and Griselda’s Waltz, written by Bill Steele. The Last Trip Home and Griselda’s Waltz are also on The Last Trip Home CD.

Great to see everyone and thanks for coming!

wg

Revival

There appears to be media consensus: “Bluesky is dead.”

At The Commentary, James Meigs calls Bluesky “an expression of the left’s growing hypersensitivity to ideas leftists find offensive”, and says he accepts exTwitter’s “somewhat uglier vibe” in return for “knowing that right-wing views aren’t being deliberately buried”. Then he calls Bluesky “toxic” and a “hermetically sealed social-media bubble”.

At New Media and Marketing, Rich Meyer says Bluesky is in decline and engagement is dropping, and exTwitter is making a comeback.

At Slate, Alex Kirshner and Nitish Pahwa complain that Bluesky feels “empty”, say that its too-serious users are abandoning it because it isn’t fun, and compare it to a “small liberal arts college” and exTwitter to a “large state university”.

At The Spectator, Sean Thomas regrets that “Bluesky is dying” – and claims to have known it would fail from his first visit to the site, “a bad vegan cafe, full of humorless puritans”.

Many of these pieces – Mark Cuban at Fortune, for example, and Megan McArdle at the Washington Post – blame a “lack of diversity of thought”.

As Mike Masnick writes on TechDirt in its defense (Masnick is a Bluesky board member), “It seems a bit odd: when something is supposedly dying or irrelevant, journalists can’t stop writing about it.”

Have they so soon forgotten 2014, when everyone was writing that Twitter was dead?

Commentators may be missing that success for Bluesky looks different: it’s trying to build a protocol-driven ecosystem, not a site. Twitter had one, but destroyed it as its ad-based business model took over. Both Bluesky and Mastodon, which media largely ignores, aim to let users create their own experience and are building tools that give users as much control as possible. It seems to offend some commentators that one of them lets you block people you don’t want to deal with, but that’s weird, since it’s the one every social site has.

All social media have ups and downs, especially when they’re new (I really wonder how many of these commentators experienced exTwitter in its early days or have looked at Truth Social’s user numbers). Settling into a new environment and rebuilding take time – it may look like the old place, but its affordances are different, and old friends are missing. Meanwhile, anecdotally, some seem to be leaving social media entirely, driven away by privacy issues, toxic behavior, distaste for platform power and its owners, or simply distracted by life. Few of us *have* to use social media.

***

In 2002, the UK’s Financial Services Authority was the first to implement an EU directive allowing private organizations to issue their own electronic money without a banking license if they could meet the capital requirements. At the time, the idea seemed kind of cute, especially since there was a plan to waive some of the requirements for smaller businesses. Everyone wanted micropayments; here was a framework of possibility.

And then nothing much happened. The Register’s report (the first link above) said that organizations such as the Post Office, credit card companies, and mobile operators were considering launching emoney offerings. If they did, the results sank without trace. Instead, we’re all using credit/debit cards to pay for stuff online, just as we were 23 years ago. People are relucrtant to trust weird, new-fangled forms of money.

Then, in 2008, came cryptocurrencies – money as lottery ticket.

Last week, the Wall Street Journal reported that Amazon, Wal-Mart, and other multinationals are exploring stablecoins as a customer payment option – in other words, issuing their own cryptocurrencies, pegged to the US dollar. As Andrew Kassel explains at Investopedia, the result could be to bypass credit cards and banks, saving billions in fees.

It’s not clear how this would work, but I’m suspicious of the benefits to consumers. Would I have to buy a company’s stablecoin before doing business with it? And maintain a floating balance? At Axios, Brady Dale explores other possibilities. Ultimately, it sounds like a return to the 1970s, before multipurpose credit cards, when people had store cards from the retailers they used frequently, and paid a load of bills every month. Dale seems optimistic that this could be a win for consumers as well as retailers, but I can’t really see it.

In other words, the idea seems less cute now, less fun technological experiment, more rapacious. There’s another, more disturbing, possibility: the return of the old company town. Say you work for Amazon or Wal-Mart, and they offer you a 10% bonus for taking your pay in their stablecoin. You can’t spend it anywhere but their store, but that’s OK, right, because they stock everything you could possibly want? A modern company town doesn’t necessarily have to be geographical.

I’ve long thought that company towns, which allowed companies to effectively own employees, are the desired endgame for the titans. Elon Musk is heading that way with Starbase, Texas, now inhabited primarily by SpaceX employees, as Elizabeth Crisp reports at The Hill.

I don’t know if the employees who last month voted enthusiastically for the final incorporation of Starbase realize how abusive those old company towns were.

Illustrations: The Starbase sign adjoining Texas Highway 4, in 2023 (via Jenny Hautmann at Wikimedia.

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

A thousand small safety acts

“The safest place in the world to be online.”

I think I remember that slogan from Tony Blair’s 1990s government, when it primarily related to ecommerce. It morphed into child safety – for example, in 2010, when the first Digital Economy Act was passed, or 2017, when the Online Safety Act, passed in 2023 and entering into force in March 2025, was but a green paper. Now, Ofcom is charged with making it reality.

As prior net.wars posts attest, the 2017 green paper began with the idea that social media companies could be forced to pay, via a levy, for the harm they cause. The key remaining element of that is a focus on the large, dominant companies. The green paper nodded toward designing proportionately for small businesses and startups. But the large platforms pull the attention: rich, powerful, and huge. The law that’s emerged from these years of debate takes in hundreds of thousands of divergent services.

On Mastodon, I’ve been watching lawyer Neil Brown scrutinize the OSA with a particular eye on its impact on the wide ecosystem of what we might call “the community Internet” – the thousands of web boards, blogs, chat channels, and who-knows-what-else with no business model because they’re not businesses. As Brown keeps finding in his attempts to help provide these folks with tools they can use are struggling to understand and comply with the act.

First things first: everyone agrees that online harm is bad. “Of course I want people to be safe online,” Brown says. “I’m lucky, in that I’m a white, middle-aged geek. I would love everyone to have the same enriching online experience that I have. I don’t think the act is all bad.” Nonetheless, he sees many problems with both the act itself and how it’s being implemented. In contacts with organizations critiquing the act, he’s been surprised to find how many unexpectedly agree with him about the problems for small services. However, “Very few agreed on which was the worst bit.”

Brown outlines two classes of problem: the act is “too uncertain” for practical application, and the burden of compliance is “too high for insufficient benefit”.

Regarding the uncertainty, his first question is, “What is a user?” Is someone who reads net.wars a user, or just a reader? Do they become a user if they post a comment? Do they start interacting with the site when they read a comment, make a comment, or only when they comment to another user’s comment? In the fediverse, is someone who reads postings he makes via his private Mastodon instance its user? Is someone who replies from a different instance to that posting a user of his instance?

His instance has two UK users – surely insignificant. Parliament didn’t set a threshold for the “significant number of UK users” that brings a service into scope, so Ofcom says it has no answer to that question. But if you go by percentage, 100% of his user base is in Britain. Does that make Britain his “target market”? Does having a domain name in the UK namespace? What is a target market for the many community groups running infrastructure for free software projects? They just want help with planning, or translation; they’re not trying to sign up users.

Regarding the burden, the act requires service providers to perform a risk assessment for every service they run. A free software project will probably have a dozen or so – a wiki, messaging, a documentation server, and so on. Brown, admittedly not your average online participant, estimates that he himself runs 20 services from his home. Among them is a photo-sharing server, for which the law would have him write contractual terms of service for the only other user – his wife.

“It’s irritating,” he says. “No one is any safer for anything that I’ve done.”

So this is the mismatch. The law and Ofcom imagine a business with paid staff signing up users to profit from them. What Brown encounters is more like a stressed-out woman managing a small community for fun after she puts the kids to bed.

Brown thinks a lot could be done to make the act less onerous for the many sites that are clearly not the problem Parliament was trying to solve. Among them, carve out low-risk services. This isn’t just a question of size, since a tiny terrorist cell or a small ring sharing child sexual abuse material can pose acres of risk. But Brown thinks it shouldn’t be too hard to come up with criteria to rule services out of scope such as a limited user base coupled with a service “any reasonable person” would consider low risk.

Meanwhile, he keeps an In Memoriam list of the law’s casualties to date. Some have managed to move or find new owners; others are simply gone. Not on the list are non-UK sites that now simply block UK users. Others, as Brown says, just won’t start up. The result is an impoverished web for all of us.

“If you don’t want a web dominated by large, well-lawyered technology companies,” Brown sums up, “don’t create a web that squeezes out small low-risk services.”

Illustrations: Early 1970s cartoon illustrating IT project management.

Wendy M. Grossman is an award-winning journalist. Her Web site has extensive links to her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.

Negative externalities

A sheriff’s office in Texas searched a giant nationwide database of license plate numbers captured by automatic cameras to look for a woman they suspected of self-managing an abortion. As Rindala Alajazi writes at EFF, that’s 83,000 cameras in 6,809 networks belonging to Flock Safety, many of them in states where abortion is legal or protected as a fundamental right until viability.

We’ve known something like this was coming ever since 2022, when the US Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade and returned the power to regulate abortion to the individual US states. The resulting unevenness made it predictable that the strongest opponents to legal abortion would turn their attention to interstate travel.

The Electronic Frontier Foundation has been warning for some time about Flock’s database of camera-captured license plates. Recently, Jason Koebler reported at 404 Media that US Immigration and Customs Enforcement has been using Flock’s database to find prospects for deportation. Since ICE does not itself have a contract with Flock, it’s been getting local law enforcement to perform search on its behalf. “Local” refers only to the law enforcement personnel; they have access to camera data that’s shared nationally.

The point is that once the data has been collected it’s very hard to stop mission creep. On its website, Flock says its technology is intended to “solve and eliminate crime” and “protect your community”. That might have worked when we all agreed what was a crime.

***

A new MCTD Cambridge report makes a similar point about menstrual data, when sold at scale. Now, I’m from the generation that managed fertility with a paper calendar, but time has moved on, and fertility tracking apps allow a lot more of the self-quantification that can be helpful in many situations. As Stephanie Felsberger writes in introducing the report, menstrual data is highly revealing of all sorts of sensitive information. Privacy International has studied period-tracking apps, and found that they’ve improved but still pose serious privacy risks.

On the other hand, I’m not so sure about the MCTD report’s third recommendation – that government build a public tracker app within the NHS. The UK doesn’t have anything like the kind of divisive rhetoric around abortion that the US does, but the fact remains that legal abortion is a 1967 carve-out from an 1861 law. In the UK, procuring an abortion is criminal *except* during the first 24 weeks, or if the mother’s life is in danger, or if the fetus has a serious abnormality. And even then, sign-off is required from two doctors.

Investigations and prosecutions of women under that 1861 law have been rising, as Shanti Das reported at the Guardian in January. Pressure in the other direction from US-based anti-choice groups such as the Alliance for Defending Freedom has also been rising. For years it’s seemed like this was a topic no one really wanted to reopen. Now, health care providers are calling for decriminalization, and, as Hannah Al-Oham reported this week, there are two such proposals currently in front of Parliament.

Also relevant: a month ago, Phoebe Davis reported at the Observer that in January the National Police Chiefs’ Council quietly issued guidance advising officers to search homes for drugs that can cause abortions in cases of stillbirths and to seize and examine devices to check Internet searches, messages, and health apps to “establish a woman’s knowledge and intention in relation to the pregnancy”. There was even advice on how to bypass the requirement for a court order to access women’s medical records.

In this context, it’s not clear to me that a publicly owned app is much safer or more private than a commercial one. What’s needed is open source code that can be thoroughly examined that keeps all data on the device itself, encrypted, in a segregated storage space over which the user has control. And even then…you know, paper had a lot of benefits.

***

This week the UK Parliament passed the Data (Use and Access) bill, which now just needs a royal signature to become law. At its site, the Open Rights Group summarizes the worst provisions, mostly a list of ways the bill weakens citizens’ rights over their data.

Brexit was sold to the public on the basis of taking back national sovereignty. But, as then-MEP Felix Reda said the morning after the vote, national sovereignty is a fantasy in a globalized world. Decisions about data privacy can’t be made imagining they are only about *us*.

As ORG notes, the bill has led European Digital Rights to write to the European Commission asking for a review of the UK’s adequacy status. This decision, granted in 2020, was due to expire in June 2025, but the Commission granted a six-month extension to allow the bill’s passage to complete. In 2019, when the UK was at peak Brexit chaos, it seemed possible that the Conservative then-government would allow the UK to leave the EU with no deal in place, net.wars noted the risk to data flows. The current Labour government, with its AI and tech policy ambitions, ought to be more aware of the catastrophe losing adequacy would present. And yet.

Illustrations: Map from the Center for Reproductive Rights showing the current state of abortion rights across the US.

Wendy M. Grossman is the 2013 winner of the Enigma Award. Her Web site has an extensive archive of her books, articles, and music, and an archive of earlier columns in this series. She is a contributing editor for the Plutopia News Network podcast and a regular guest on the TechGrumps podcast. Follow on Mastodon or Bluesky.