Spot the giraffe

From my experiences thus far, the most crucial supplies a traveler must carry are good earplugs and a cheap bike lock. India is a cacophony of horns, whistles, clangs, and shouts. These sounds have a kinetic quality which drives them perpetually throughout the day, regardless of hour or location. Earplugs allow an intelligent human being to tone the racket down a notch and catch a few hours of sleep periodically. A chain provides the unquestioning service of sanity, assuring the traveler his gear won’t grow feet and walk off into the night, let he be in the dormitory, riding the train or bus, lying on a platform, or huddled on the street corner.

Kolkata is a huge, boisterous city with a Communist government in place for the past few decades. I noticed this only in a few subtle ways: the utilitarian design of the metro and university, signs proclaiming “A state of West Bengal Enterprise” on nearly every business, and the general antiquity of the city buses. While there is a fair bit of old stuff in this far off land, these buses had wood paneling. It took me straight back to the British Colonial period, ten or so years after I was born. If it hadn’t been so packed, I would’ve half expected the ticket taker to whip out a china set for afternoon tea, only to have the pot and cups break 15 seconds later. That’s how often there is an accident in the city. Actually, surprisingly, I haven’t seen a crash yet.

Thursday the 14th, aka Valentine’s Day and what already seems like eons ago, scored me the brilliant opportunity to travel with the executive leadership team of Water for People to West Bengal’s Nadia district. The point of their visit was to see some of the arsenic filters the organization has helped fund and install over the past five years, and the reason for my tagging along was to see if I can capture the cultural, social, and religious barriers to making sure people are drinking safe water. As with any shoot, there are images you hope to make and others you just accidentally happen across like an old man in the Thomas Crapper out back. Including my discussions with a former World Bank-er and other members of the team, I think I compiled enough to count that region a success.

Much of India’s public automotive transportation is also based on millions and millions of autorickshaws and taxis. In probably my most notable Bengali event, the Ambassador I hired just past dusk on Friday the 15th was dealt a fatal blow as we crossed the VIP Bridge. On the way to interview a Dr. Gupta of the BECS, a section of grated road right before the toll both tore the poor machine to shreds. I heard a metallic “clink” during 30 seconds of intense vibrations we confirmed not much later was a mission critical component of the car. Although I did feel a bit sorry for leaving the driver, he only received Rs 100 for making me walk the last 3 KM to my destination.

A tall beer certainly makes journal entries quite a bit more interesting to write. And read, looking back on that night. After sitting in the Victoria Memorial Gardens late Saturday afternoon, waiting to photograph the building at sunset and trying to explain to every visiting Indian IT student why I’m not with my girlfriend making snooky under a tree like everyone else, I took the advice of the Lonely Planet and took my supper on Park Street. For those who are not familiar with the area, this is a length of road where everything is a bit more expensive. Especially the meals. At the beginning of the entry, I write:

If I am to blow all of my money in the first month and a half, I might as well blow it in style. The meal hopefully won’t be any more than Rs 250.

and I finish it with:

Fuck, Rs 289. Man…

To take this in context, I spent one and a quarter what I was spending on my hotel room that night. Comparatively, it is as if I were traveling in the states with the budget for a $100 hotel room and then decided to go spend $200 on myself for dinner. Money doesn’t grow on trees, but I’ll bet it makes it more of an adventure near the end of a trip if you pretend it does.

Kolkata seems to be a mecca for the 25 year-old in search of his or her place in the world. It was my first time coming across so many travel bums in one square block. First, while wandering after returning from the Water for People excursion and apparently looking lost, I ran into Katie, a graphic designer and photographer who works until she has enough money to set off. You can imagine my relief in being able to have a conversation of more than three sentences. At the restaurant she recommended, which coincidentally costs alot and is called the “Blue Sky Cafe,” I sat across from a dude who was definitely hardcore and definitely not 25. Names must be meaningless if you’re 18 months into a six year trip; he didn’t ask for mine and I did not ask for his. Early into the conversation I learned he was on an overland trek from England to Tokyo, a journey I hope to take when I become crazy enough. One or two more years of school should do it. I asked him if he had read Danziger’s Travels to which he replied, “oh yeah, he’s an amateur.” For those unfamiliar with the story, Nick Danziger is a dude who did the same trip for 17 months in the 1980’s lying and stealing his way into countries, including Soviet-occupied Afghanistan. I wasn’t about to argue with him. The coolest guy I met, however, was a German photojournalism student named Andy. Not much for tourism, he is in India putting together a story on four Muslim girl boxers. Boxers as in the fighters, not the underwear. When I asked him how he managed to come up with such a subject, he said, “YouTube.” The wonders of modern technology!

Flexibility is obviously a required trait for those who want to avoid a mental breakdown. My stay in the smoggy city lasted two days longer than I had hoped because of an unintended consequence of India Railway’s decision to launch online booking. Nearly every single train, and I do mean 99.83%, are wait-listed for at least five days. This single fact is likely killing the boutique tourism of backpackers who don’t know where they want to be in the next week. There’s more than one of us, mind you, and it is a realistic impossibility to book your ticket to an unknown destination. After spending my last night in the Salvation Army Guest House dormitory building structure because I would be beaten, robbed, and raped if I slept in Howrah Station instead, I was off to Hyderabad.

Traveling by train for a single stretch of over 24 hours is an experience required of every visitor to this country. It gives you exposure to the myriad diseases and disfigurements beggars seem to have, is the only method of transportation in the world you can hear “chai, coffee; coffee chai” from a sing-song voice every 3.2 minutes, and lets you meet the type of people you wouldn’t normally sleep across from on a SpiceJet flight. Furthermore, going by second-class sleeper will be the only opportunity most will have to experience sheer and utter boredom. At least twice the type you thought you felt as a young child. India Rail should even mark up the absurdly cheap tickets and bill it as an amusement park ride. They could call it “Journey to Mars” but in small print mention the ride replicates what it would be like to get there using 1960’s technology. Like the lunar lander with hella tiny rockets. The “flight” would take absolutely forever, and when you have to go wee or throw out your leftover food it gets ejected into “space.”

On a somewhat related note, the India Railways company is the largest, non-military employer in the world. It transports over five billion passengers annually. If an organization such as Whitman Direct Action or, uh, UO Direct Action were to negotiate a recycling program with the head office, I think it would have the impact of single-handily ending pollution in all of Southeast Asia.

The 10 or so hours I spent in Hyderabad can be summarised by a single compound word: food-hospitality. It is the way of the true people. An extraordinary amount of treats, fried things, and fresh fruit was pushed my way as I sat on the floor of the Tajuddin house after delivering Kip’s mom’s package. After politely accepting a third and forth plate, my gut busted all over the floor. Not really. I had to keep eating. The gut-busting happened after I stood up.

As another word of advice from the open spigot known as my mouth, don’t ever buy a waitlisted takal fare from a booking office 1000 KM from your point of departure. They may appear to know what they are talking about but, if you hear those words, just say “no” and back slowly through the door. To leave Hyderabad, I had to cancel my train ticket and pay almost double for an A/C Semi-Sleeper bus where, in typical Indian fashion, they sell as many tickets as possible. I woke up at one point during the overnight ride to a TV show I really didn’t want to listen to. Hindi slap-stick comedy makes you want to punch the overhead speaker out. I now see why only the newest buses are in good condition.

The reason for my detour to the Kolwan Valley was to assess how the team at MUWCI was doing with implementing our mutual survey. A summary of several lengthier updates I wrote to the rest of the team, including a description of the difficulties MUWCI is having, is as follows:

  • We are a in a bit over our heads

The next few weeks will definitely be the most interesting of the project.

When I made it back to Pune Junction this past Thursday, my mind was a flutter with revelations of the deepest ocean trench. As a disclaimer, “every truth I write is a complete and utter lie.” This is what I came up with:

Life is not intrinsically “good” or “bad.” Events that happen in life are not “good” or “bad.” One’s opinions of the events depend exclusively on how one assigns value to an event. If, for instance, one were not to get a part in a school play, that person may establish a negative relationship to the event. To the other person receiving the part, the event would be seen as “good.” As such, in that simple proof, the event itself solely exists. It is, and has no intrinsic value.

Understanding the relationship between a person and an event is a key to enlightenment. Acting upon this understanding is one step towards achieving enlightenment. The trick is to separate one’s self from any emotion attached to an event and then recognize the opportunities stemming from an event like thin threads of light.

All events have these opportunities to take advantage of. Whether a person’s relationship to an event is positive or negative, there are always opportunities to move forward and progress. Again, the key is to look past the emotional relationship to the event, look through the cloud, and see where it will take you next.

Many times, the phrase “Nothing is Impossible” is said. In thinking about this, I believe the common reaction is one of inadequacy. Other people can do “great” things but it impossible to do “great” things yourself. The truth of the matter is that it is impossible do other people’s “great” things. You do not live their life flow, as they do not live yours. What should be said instead is “Dream. And do.” This phrase recognizes the unique values of each person, and their ability to do a multitude of “great,” impossible things, while emphasizing the need to look past their emotional attachment to the past. We must see, imagine, and dream the opportunities for progress.

Ironically enough, I woke up the next morning in my upper berth with a bitchin’ headache and gnarly fever. Natural Capitalism only ceded 55 pages of its sweet, recycled post-consumer content to me. Ye basta!

The area surrounding Kodaikanal at this time of year brings me to memories of the high Pacific Northwest during late May or early June. Under a stunning blue sky, the dark forests and meandering trails call my name in a way only the purest siren can. The air is often crisp and always clear; taking a gorgeous image is generally only a matter of pointing your lens. A chance encounter with Jeannette of Human Resources in front of the Kodaikanal International School on Saturday morning provided the opportunity to go on a stellar six hour hike to the highest point in the Palni Hills, a peak I can’t recall the name of, with her and a few friends. Along the way, the trail flirts with the edge of the mountain which drops thousands of feet down to the plains. Hot air rising from below offers priceless views of clouds forming in an endless dance. When we arrived at the top, we could see for miles and miles and miles and miles. Or kilometers, rather.

This past week has brought a wide range of experiences. While crossing the Bendy soccer field Sunday, I was nearly destroyed by a pack of wild dogs. My life was spared by five seconds of stupor and then an adrenaline-fueled sprint to the gate. For dinner that night, I was invited to the Shelton Cottage, the current residence of Tim and Katie Waring. Tim is a PhD student looking at, among other things, the traditional organizations which monitor fair distribution of irrigation water. Over left-over pizza and a delicious rhubarb dessert, we had an extraordinary conversation on topics ranging from Ghandi’s legacy to India, cultural as a method of evolution, and the SDK for the iPhone. They were, by far, the best dinner company I have had yet in the country. Monday and Tuesday were dedicated solely to producing as many images as I could for the KIS Development office. The current count tops out around 867 frames of French, Hindi, art, drama, and the “dish,” or dispensary. My mind has become numb to photographing. And writing, for that matter. This is the update that never ends.

One last thing. Today I escaped from campus for several hours to visit one of Tim’s small villages to photograph. It was dope. Dinner at the Royal Tibetan reminded me of good times with the Beckwiths.

Tomorrow I plan on running a double loop around the lake which will hopefully make my legs sore enough for the next few days of travel. Back to the Kolwan Valley and Appropriate Technology Study Group!

Splashdown

From my experiences, there are generally two ways to visit a foreign country. The first, and more accepted method of tourism, is to transition cultures gradually, testing the waters, wading in the shallow end, and then going for a nice swim in the deep. Such a method lets the traveler choose his own adventure, per se, and quickly evacuate if so needed. A second, less common method way is to, metaphorically, dive right in with a graceful arc. From a cliff even, if desireable.

Whether by accident or purpose, or accidently on purpose, I managed to do the latter. And, ironically enough, the waters I’ve seen so far are certainly not suitable for swimming.

On the wonderfully short Chicago to Delhi flight, I had the surprising chance to sit next to Steve Barg of the International Institute of Sustainable Development. The organization is a non-profit think tank based in Winnepeg with work all over the world. Not one to miss a genuine opportunity, I hounded him with questions for at least two of the fourteen hour flight. One current project he mentioned is establishing “adaptive policy design” which, paraphrasing crudely, is teaching governments that the strategies they outline this year won’t necessarily hold true for the next ten; officials had better be flexible if they don’t want to be ousted.

Under this philosophy, Steve’s organization is, for instance, researching how best to manage farmers facing “double exposure,” or those under pressure from both international trade policy and climate change. In India, the situation will only become more dire in the near future for at least two reasons: “global weirding” is causing rainfall to become less and less predictable, and farmers unsustainably exploit groundwater because both the water and power for their electric pumps is completely free. Sparing the boring details, it made my flight over quite a bit more interesting.

For many people, the first indicator they are in this foreign country might be the semi-permanent “Under Construction” signs at the airport, the seedy looking men waiting outside the customs gate to offer “free taxi to cheap hotel” or the, uh, organic smells as they step out into the night. For me, it was just how many people jumped to their feet to queue for the door seconds after the landing gear touched the runway, and how the flight attendant had to verbally abuse them over the loudspeaker to get them sitting back down. Very different introductions than getting lei’d at the door in Hawaii.

From Delhi, I journeyed by early morning train to Kanpur, site of nothing less than one of the most polluted stretches of Ganga. Upon arriving, I made my first traveler mistake by paying the three-wheeler driver before I confirmed I was at the correct place. Pack on back, my penance included walking four miles in the heat and asking over 30 people for the right direction.

The effort was worth it, however, as I spent the better part of 8 through 10 February with the two person staff of Eco Friends, a NGO working to restore the physical health of the river. To give a sense of it’s currently deplorable condition, less than a quarter of all Kanpur’s waste water is treated before it is released. The rest, 80 percent domestic and 20 percent industrial, drains directly into the water both above and below the intake station for the city water supply. Furthermore, the waste which does get treated often is handled improperly before used for irrigation. Toxins from the 300 plus tanneries cause serious health problems for both people and animals in the farming villages scattered around the area. Topping all of this off is the fact the river is diverted above the town for sugar cane irrigation, which reduces its flow nearly to a standstill. Through the knowing help of a quiet, soft-spoken Rakesh Jaiswal and his assistant whom I would be sure to misspell the name of, I was able to capture much of this with my lens.

Last Saturday, in the calm before an eight hour bus ride from the Hindu equivalent of Hades, I rose early to attend a boat rally organized by both Eco Friends and IIT Kanpur. We launched above the town at the diversion barrage to spend some time floating down the river and documenting its wounds for a report to be submitted to the local government. Being the only American, of course, also made me the honored guest, and I was invited to speak in front of the camera about the issue. I apologise in advance to my countrymen for any embarassment I’ve caused our great nation.

As per Rakesh’s request, Allahabad became the next point of destination for my chautauqua. Proving himself one of the kindest men I have ever met, he extended an invitation to attend a conference on the state of groundwater pollution in Uttar Pradesh which included all of my meals and, because every single place in town was booked, a room at the nicest hotel.

This most certainly was the high point of my luck.

In a journal entry I wrote the following evening titled “Things that have sucked in the past 24 hours,” I explored some of the ways the trip began to roll fast down a very tall hill:

  • Not being able to get a hotel room on the second night because of Magh Mela
  • Not being able to photograph Magh Mela, the primary point of my excursion, because I did not have anyone to go with and wasn’t about to get assaulted going alone
  • Not being able to get a hotel room
  • Getting accosted by a man from Andra Pradesh who wanted me to raise money for their supposed organization in the States and send it back. He and his partner in crime cornered me in a hotel room after saying they would go to Magh Mela with me. It reminded me of my mom’s stories of Amway
  • Being homesick and wondering just what the hell I am doing in this country
  • Thinking about [redacted] and how much I miss her company
  • Wondering why the hell I started thinking about [redacted] so much
  • Wondering just where the hell I am going next, and whether there will be a bed to sleep there
  • Finding it ironic that, so far, the only other Americans I’ve met have been a nutso Canadian and an Indian national
  • Learning it is impossible to book a ticket for any future travel at Allahabad Junction
  • Having the lights go off and on every five minutes and wondering how sketchy this place really is
  • Learning the wall I’ve been leaning against for the past half hour gives off some sort of chalky, white powder I hope isn’t dried pee

Had I waited until three the next morning to write the entry, I might also have included having to sleep on the station platform in twenty-something degree weather with no blanket. Thank something high above for the foresight to pack long underwear!

By taping together scraps of old paper and using some ingenious calligraphy, I finally scored a general class ticket to Varanasi. My two days and one night were spent primarily walking up and down the ghats, wide steps leading to the Ganga for bathing, and appreciating the ancient beauty of the scene. For the morning I was there, I booked a Rs 150 boat ride at dawn to photograph around, oh, 70 tourist boats and exactly three bathers. Monday had been some huge festival which starts with a “B” and has a “P” somewhere along the way, and apparently all the pilgrims got their washing done earlier.

The boat tour was followed by my traditional “crazy white guy” run at a famous location. In a fashion similar to my expedition down from Machu Picchu, I dodged people, animals, sacred ceremonies and cremations alike for quality exercise. I can safely say I am the first person I’ve seen out jogging for fun and not from the police. The path itself was consistent with only occasional stairs, so I would definitely recommend it to anyone interested. It might be in my future to compile a Top Runs of the World in the near future.

Yesterday afternoon passed like an old jalopy I have never ridden in, jerking forward at times and dying completely at others. Not being able to interview someone at the Samkat Mochan Foundation because I spent an hour and a half trying to figure out which ghat the research lab was at really put a bolt in my gears, and I didn’t get the crowded bathing scene at the river I wanted. In an attempt to live up to the “Tourist” label on my visa, I went to visit the Golden Temple nearer the middle of the city. No dice. The surrounding area was crawling with soldiers armed to the teeth, and they weren’t allowing mobile phones or cameras; I had both which I wasn’t about to lose to a shop owner.

Now in Kolkata, I plan to spend a few days on my project and visiting the most famous landmarks. I’m optimistic I’ve made the right connections for some stellar imagery.

One last piece of advice: having the holy Lonely Planet out in public makes even the most gnarly looking traveler a magnet for an entire university of touts.

Last minute

I think I am taking way too many supplies. When your pack has more deodorant than socks, and more paper than shirts, you know something might be quite wrong.

This will be more of a stream of thought than a well-thought, insightful post, so my apologies in advance. Sometimes this happens when you leave everything for the very last possible moment. In all honesty, I should be finishing packing my bag right now; it’s only half full and I’ve got my things strewn all across the living room. GPS, shirts, socks, books and other things I’m not sure I should bring lie in little piles like raked leaves in the fall. My plan of attack, and I know it’s going to lead to this, will be to just dump armfuls of gear into the pack and sort it out later.

I hope that works!

It makes me wonder what I’ve been doing in the past couple of weeks to be so amazingly prepared. On a similar note, I’m not quite sure how much money I have. My bank account is hovering around two thousand American dollars but, with our economy where it is and my credit card payment having not gone through yet, I’m probably going to have a bit less than that. The last lens I bought is definitely going to set me back around twelve hundred.

Oh, and my travel plans are absolutely absurd too. After what I imagine isn’t going to be the best 28 hour flight in the world, I’ve got six hours to catch a night train to Kanpur, Uttar Pradesh and then be in the shape to interview and photograph the next day. This type of, let’s say, well-structured planning just might be going on the entire trip. I do plan to see parts of the entire country during my short three month travel period. The map of India looks so small, and might be giving me the delusion I can make the full loop.

All of that negativity aside, I’m stoked! Here goes nothing!

First results

I’m a finalist! The UO Outdoor Program has a photography contest every year for which I managed to get my act together and submit a few entries. Although I’m pretty sure I sent in four, three of the photos made it into the top picks of their respective categories:

And I didn’t really notice this until today, but UO OP has uploaded all of the entries to Flickr. It’s very neat to see what I’ve been competing against. On top of that, I’m super honored to have been selected amongst some really good entries.

The winners will be unveiled at 1730 in the EMU Aperture Gallery on 29 January 2008. Might have to skip out on night skiing for this.

Mr. Bachhuber goes to mumbai

On 5 February, less than a month from today, I will be heading back to the great land of India for nearly ninety days. If I manage to survive the aggressive monkeys and crazy elephants, it will be the longest trip I have ever been on. Why are you going to India for such a lengthy time, one might ask? Well, Curious George, there are a couple key answers to this question.

One is that, thanks to some voodoo magic and an absurd number of classes last fall, I have enough credits for junior status. Although people are quick to point out that such a situation won’t necessarily make me graduate any faster, something or other about my major, I think it’s justification enough to take the winter and spring terms off. Worst case scenario is that I have to take summer school.

Secondly is that, and this is the primary reason mind you, using frequent flier miles doesn’t guarantee you specific travel dates. In fact, the airlines don’t even really let you pick your vacation when you’re using a free ticket to get to a foreign country. Upon the surprise of learning the earliest day I could return to the States was May 3rd, I thought, “err… I’ll take it?”

My parents aren’t exactly ecstatic about that decision, but you’ve got to take the opportunities as they come!

The itinerary for this trip, at this point, is a rough draft. I know for sure I will be working in some capacity on Whitman Direct Action’s Sadhana Clean Water Project for the first month and a half. The conference will put me in Mumbai on and around 19 March 2008. Other than that, I have two specific goals. My first hope is to parallel the WDA project with a one of my own. Involving photography. And a critical eye. Ideas in my mind I have, but I need to get them together pretty soon so I can get spec letters out. My second wish is to see Northern India, the entire half I missed during my first trip. Potential stops include Rajahstan, the Taj, and Dharmasala.

My itinerary as it unfolds (which may be not the best choice of words) will be published for everyone to see. And most important, I’ll be blogging every step of the way!

Some logical, if not brilliant, advice I’ve gotten so far:

  • Keep your camera in sight at all times
  • Baby shampoo can be used as toothpaste and shampoo
  • Put dental floss in your sewing kit, it’s the most indestructible thread out there
  • Keep a copy of your passport in your webmail

From the way it looks so far, India 2008 is going to be one epic journey.

Update: You can now keep updated on these adventures (or lack there of) by using my subscribe page or joining the Facebook Group.

An abandoned lighthouse?

At the ad:tech conference this year in New York City, the most widely anticipated news came from a company less than three years old. This is hardly a surprise to those who follow the tech industry; Facebook, currently valued at over 15 billion dollars, is the hottest thing since Google or MySpace. It has been on the radar along with Apple’s iPhone as one of the biggest stories of the year. Accordingly, the first announcement of how the social network is going to monetize its service, a problem plaguing every Web 2.0 startup, set the blogosphere aflame. Facebook’s name for its new ad marketing platform: Beacon.

The origin

Targeted advertising isn’t anything new. It’s only natural a business would want to pitch its product to the audience most likely to buy it. Time spent on a consumer who isn’t going to be a buyer is simply a wasted effort. Selling the merits of a men’s cologne to pre-teen girls isn’t effective just like pitching hearing aids to twenty-somethings with perfect hearing is a waste.  It pays to focus advertising as directly as possible; in financial terms, it minimizes the dollars spent selling to each consumer while maximizing the company’s overall profits.

In 1932, Young and Rubicam became the first firm to advertise based on statistics. Twenty years later, the A.C. Nielsen Market Research Company, realizing the extraordinary potential of television to reach a mass audience, began tracking which prime-time shows were being watched in what types of households. As technology progressed, so did the sophistication of the ability to track viewers and their habits; by the 1970’s, tracking services could report many more details about audiences including race, gender, age, and educational background. Personalized advertising started crawling on its hands and feet.

Jump forward another twenty years to the commercial advent of the Internet. Its digital nature allows for inherently easier tracking. While transferring data back and forth, the web requires unique electronic addresses to ensure the bits requested make it to the correct recipient. This characteristic also means a digital “paper trail” is left in every transaction. Capitalizing on this technology, web metrics have advanced to a point where a nearly infinite amount of consumer information can be aggregated and analyzed. The current difficulty, if it can be summarized, lies in determining which information is most important and how it should be interpreted.

Problems to some are opportunities to others. One burgeoning market is online advertising, with has had over 150% growth in revenues since 2000. Success in this arena is defined by the businesses who achieve the highest conversion rates; it’s what has made Google the 5th largest company in the United States in less than a decade.

There are now a few common ways of using consumer metrics to target advertisements online.  One method, borrowed from the print media, is selling advertising space based on the perceived reader demographics of a website. Grist, an environmental news nonprofit, and The Economist, a business and political analysis publication, both do this for placements on their websites. Making the deals in-house, albeit a significant amount of work, does have some added benefits. The most significant include being able to target to a specific demographic and using richer media (e.g. images and video) in advertisements. Google’s AdSense, on the other hand, is an example of a newer, content-based approach to delivering advertisements.  Known abstractly as “contextual advertising,” it optimizes ad placement by analyzing the content of the website and listing the only most relevant promotions. Doing this by looking at topics, keywords, and phrases pretty well guarantees that the text-based advertisement will be on line with the focus of the site. Yet, at the same time, those ads lose efficacy when readers learn how to ignore them.

So begins the cat and mouse game.

Facebook, by capitalizing on the social graph between its users, is making advertising “social.” Originally exclusive to college students, this social network hasn’t been without its controversial business decisions. One such event, the launch of a tool called the “News Feed” which is designed to aggregate friends’ activities on the site, caused users to go up in virtual arms about privacy concerns. A mass exodus was only averted after the founder, Mark Zuckerberg, published an open letter promising to alleviate those worries. He might have to do this again.

Unlike Google’s AdSense, which advertises based off contextual data, Facebook now has two advertising platforms which exploits the social data its users provide: Social Ads and Beacon. Social Ads places advertisements for sponsored businesses and products in the sidebar and previously controversial News Feed. These placements are targeted based on information from a user’s profile; for instance, having “photography” listed as interest in the personal section will incur a higher than normal number of ads for photo contests or camera equipment. The other system, Beacon, works by through a hybridization of “viral marketing.” When a user buys a product on an affiliated site, the information gets sent back to Facebook and is placed in the News Feed of another user. The idea, or at least in theory, is that the advertisers gain traction through a “forced word-of-mouth.” Facebook hopes to make this possible with their platform, although users haven’t been so happy about it.

Personalization is in the future of advertising. AdSense, Beacon and others are only the forerunners in a continual evolution of marketing directly to a consumer. Take, for instance, a product such as Google Maps. In the past year, Google has introduced sponsored, location-based results when a user types in a query like, “pizza portland oregon.” With the launch of Google’s Android Mobile OS in the next year, Google Maps will be available on a number more handheld devices. Add a GPS-enabled wireless device into the mix and the user will no longer have to type in the “portland oregon.” Google will know, thanks to technology. Thanks to technology, advertising too will become more targeted in every way; based on location through GPS, based on past purchases with online retailers, and based the personal interests listed on social profiles.

Or at least that’s the current trend of thinking.

Some implications

Privacy. A world where information about an individual’s actions flow freely to businesses leave little maneuvering room for a personal life. Transparency should be a two-way street. Consumers need to critically assess how much privacy they are willing to give up, and to whom they want to give it to. In the case of Beacon, the platform has become so disputed that is has attracted the attention of MoveOn.org, a civic action organization normally focused on politics. As part of a multi-pronged approach, the nonprofit created a Facebook Group titled, “Petition: Facebook, stop invading my privacy!” and draws upon members to be activists. Their intent is to call upon the company for a public response to an issue which has created headlines such as, “Does Facebook Hate Christmas?,” “Is Facebook a Privacy Nightmare?” and “Are Facebook’s Social Ads Illegal?” With enough voices, and media publicity, the tactic is sure to be successful; Facebook, unless interested in committing financial suicide, has no interest in causing the entire core of its business model to migrate to another social network. What the long-term loss, or gain, to user privacy is, however, has yet to be decided.

Integrity. The effect advertising has on content is also a very important question. In a world where it is becoming the easier choice to monetize a business with paid advertising, one must ask what sort of effect such as decision has on independence. Take journalism, for instance. Although this model is not yet entirely true of major papers, many blogs write journalistically, are supported by advertisers, and have become primary sources for niche news. Without an established and transparent code of ethics, it is impossible to guess at the editorial integrity of a website. Some naive audiences assume their authority, but every reader must be a critical reader and look at the policies behind their business practices. Grist and The Economist, for instance, have advertising policy links on top of clearly defined ads. Some sites running Google AdSense, conversely, embed their advertisements in the content of the page or in faux navigation bars. An uneducated visitor, subsequently, does not know the different between what is real and what is advertisement. For the integrity of journalism, and of all media, there needs to be a clear line between independent content and advertising.

In an economy increasingly dependent on universal participation, it doesn’t pay to exploit user data. Using those same crowds to deduce such a decision, however, is a smart choice to make.

Written for the final paper in J 201 Mass Media and Society. Also available to download in PDF

New pages: Blogroll and For Sale

I’ve launched two new pages today:

  • Blogroll follows along the definition of a traditional, well, blogroll and links to some of my favorite media. I’ve listed the podcasts I hear on a regular basis along with the RSS feeds I absorb with Google Reader. The actual links to both sites and feeds of each source will be updated when I feel like doing it. I thought it might be cool to have all of that together in one place; currently no meta service I know of will allow someone to see what I’m subscribed to.
  • For Sale is a compilation of all the stuff I’m trying to sell on Craigslist and in the Facebook Marketplace. Have a look! It’s all priced to sell.

Brilliant feature o’ the day: Skype’s Call-Forwarding

Why? Because now someone anywhere in the world can call my cellphone for trés cheap. If I don’t pick up, they’re forwarded to my cellphone’s voicemail.

This, my friend, is feature of sheer brilliance. I love you Skype!

To enable this functionality, you’ve got to have the absurdly cheap Skype Out. Once you’ve signed up:

  1. Open Skype
  2. Go to “File -> Preferences”
  3. Click on the “Calls” tab
  4. Activate the “Call Forwarding” box and enter your phone number with country code

It’s that simple! As an added bonus, when you’re not around a computer, it looks like you’re online anyway; you don’t have to be signed into Skype for someone half the way around the world to talk to you!