David Larish
During the Cold War, the US and the Soviet engaged in a form of military-industrial battle, the so-called Arms Race. As the stockpile of nuclear weaponry on both sides increased, the world – paradoxically – became a safer place. This occurred, most historians agree, as a result of a concept that came to be known as Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD). Each superpower was deterred from hitting the other with a nuclear attack because they realised that this would inevitably lead to the opponent unleashing a nuclear attack on a similar scale. An attack on the other was, in effect, an attack on oneself.
A few decades on, the world’s leading smartphone/tablet manufacturers have been engaging in a race of their own. The weapon of choice is the patent. Manufacturers have been stockpiling them for offensive and defensive reasons. That is nothing new. However, until April 2011, a force resembling MAD seemed to be preventing worldwide mass smartphone/tablet patent infringement lawsuits. Then Apple launched its first strike on Samsung’s Galaxy Tab and Samsung retaliated on Apple’s iPhone and iPad, resulting in numerous and as yet unresolved global skirmishes between the telecommunications behemoths.
The rationale for the patent system is based on promoting innovation; you are less likely to throw time, resources and dollars at innovating if others can piggy-back on whatever you create with impunity. Leaving aside the debate about the merits of the patent system in general, it is clear that, when it comes to the smartphone/tablet wars, the patent system is struggling to cope.
In conventional patent litigation, the party asserting infringement generally confronts the alleged infringer with one (or a few) patent(s), albeit often asserting infringement of multiple claims within each patent. The distinction with tablet/smartphone patent litigation is that the manufacturers have literally hundreds of patents in their stockpiles: method of unlocking the device, method of scrolling within the device etc. When contemplating litigation, these companies have vast possibilities from which to choose and are therefore able to assert patent infringement in respect of numerous independent patents. It only takes a finding of infringement in respect of one of these patents for a rival smartphone/tablet to be removed (in all likelihood) from the market. Based on sheer weight of numbers and probability alone, the odds are stacked in favour of the company asserting infringement. Throw enough mud at the wall and some of it will stick.
Let’s use Game Theory to examine the relationship between Companies A and B, two successful competitors in the smartphone/tablet market. Company A may face two different scenarios: (1) Company B has sued Company A for infringement of its patents; or (2) Company B has not sued. In either case (leaving aside transaction/legal costs), Company A is in a better position by opting to sue Company B for infringement of Company A’s patents than by opting not to. Under (1), bringing an infringement action against Company B is necessary as a defensive mechanism – the return of fire to Company B gives Company A some clout at the negotiating table (ie MAD). Under (2), offensive action restricting Company B’s smartphone/tablet from operating on the market would, if successful, harm a competitor and increase Company A’s market share.
The best position overall for Companies A and B involves neither suing the other. This is because there is no threat of the products’ release into the marketplace being restrained and the time, inconvenience and expense of litigation are avoided. The concern, however, is that given:
• the fiercely competitive nature of the smartphone/tablet market;
• the diversity of the patent stockpile at the disposal of the smartphone/tablet manufacturers; and
• the possibility that, since April 2011, MAD is no longer effective in operating as a deterrent to litigation;
tablet/smartphone patent litigation will, in future, become the norm rather than the exception.
This would be disastrous for retailers and consumers. The tablet/smartphone market would suffer from less competition, greater uncertainty and the absence of products which consumers wanted. Most worryingly, the outcome by which the patent system is justified and by which the disadvantages associated with it are tolerated – the incentive to innovate – would actually be counteracted. Yes, in the final outcome, genuine smartphone/tablet innovations should not fall foul of the patent system. However, in a practical sense, when enough mud is thrown there is a strong chance that they will, at least at some point in the litigation process. And, even if they do not, the shifting of resources away from product development and towards courtroom battles, the delays in the release of products and the helplessness of small stockpile tablet/smartphone manufacturers when faced with legal threats against their products from large stockpile tablet/smartphone manufacturers would all be considerable impediments to innovation.
Watch this space. The situation needs to be closely monitored.
Monday, 18 June 2012
Thursday, 17 May 2012
EVENT TONIGHT: Videogames as Telehealth Technology
Speaker: Stuart Smith
Host: IEEE-SSIT
Time: Thursday 17 May 2012, 6pm for 6:15pm start
Location: John Goodsell Building Room LG 19 Parking station at Botany St Gate 11, University of New South Wales Kensington Campus
RSVP: Lyria Bennett Moses (lyria@unsw.edu.au)
About the event
About the speaker
Dr Stuart Smith is an NHMRC Career Development Award-Industry researcher with a particular interest in the application of technologies such as video games and the internet for home-based monitoring of health.
He was involved in establishing the Technology Research for Independent Living Centre in Ireland which developed technologies to monitor the health of older adults to facilitate their continued independent and healthy living.
He currently chairs the working group on Games for Health within the Health Informatics Society of Australia, whose aim is to establish connections between health researchers and video game developers and manufacturers to develop games that are appropriate for patient rehabilitation.
Dr Smith has secured NHMRC funding to develop video games for reducing fall risk in older adults and is a PI on Dr Penelope McNulty’s NHMRC project investigating the use of the Nintendo Wii in rehabilitation of upper limb function following stroke. He is also involved in pilot trials assessing the effect of video game play in rehabilitation of stroke and spinal cord injury patients at the Prince of Wales Hospital.
Dr Smith has recently had a manuscript accepted by the British Journal of Sports Medicine on his modification of the ‘Dance Dance Revolution’ video game for step training in older adults. He has two recent book chapters on the application of video gaming technologies to rehabilitation and has organised workshops on Games for Health at international conferences.
Recently Dr Smith contributed to a successful bid for funding from the Federal Department of Education, Employment and Workplace Relations to build video games that are specifically targeted at health.
About the sponsor
The IEEE is a voluntary organisation with more than 350,000 members. The SSIT has about 2000 members in 56 countries worldwide and growing. The Society focuses on the impact of technology on society, including both positive and negative effects, the impact of society on the engineering profession, the history of the societal aspects of electrotechnology, and professional, social and economic responsibility in the practice of engineering and its related technology.
SSIT publishes a quarterly journal, IEEE Technology & Society magazine (free with your Membership).
SSIT can be contacted at ssit.australia@ieee.org.
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Recycled music in the digital era
Adrian McGruther
ReDigi describes its offering as ‘recycled digital media’, but with the benefit that, unlike physical media, its products never scratch or wear out. Users who wish to sell digital music files that they no longer want can ‘upload’ the tracks to ReDigi’s server for other users to purchase and download. ReDigi claims to have what it calls ‘verification’ and ‘hand off’ technology, which ensures that the digital music file is from a legitimate source and that any additional copies of a sold file are also deleted from the user’s computer.
If a copy of a file that has already been sold reappears on a seller’s computer or synced device, and the seller does not delete it after receiving notice from ReDigi, the seller’s account with ReDigi may be suspended or terminated. ReDigi also pays a percentage of sales to the relevant artists and labels. ReDigi is different from file-sharing sites in that each track offered for sale is a unique, identifiable file, and has not been cloned from a master file.
Is it legally legit?
That’s the big question at the moment. Many record labels and industry bodies are casting a raised eyebrow in ReDigi’s direction because the service treads upon a legal grey patch. The way digital music sales normally operate is that when a customer purchases a song, a reproduction of the ‘master’ file is made, which requires a licence from the label or artist.
The Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) and international record label EMI Music have objected to the legality of the service on the basis that ReDigi is infringing copyright when a 'copy' of the track is made as it is uploaded to ReDigi’s servers. They claim that this copying has not been done with a licence, irrespective of the fact that the original file is removed from the user’s computer once it has been uploaded to ReDigi.
Google has also weighed in on the legal debate by suggesting that a finding against ReDigi could potentially place the legality of cloud computing under…well, a grey cloud.
But in the midst of the current legal stoush, the short-sighted labels appear to be missing the elephant in the room: consumers are willing to pay for music. In an era when music piracy is rampant and labels desperately scramble to give users a commercial incentive to pay for music, the success of a service like ReDigi should be seen as a silver lining.
What does this mean for music lovers and music labels?
Legal hurdles aside, services like ReDigi provide a compromise between the mainstream digital music stores and the illegal (and unreliable) file sharing sites. As songs on digital music stores in Australia now nudge upwards of $2 each, it is unsurprising that consumers are turning to alternative sources.
Though ReDigi shows promising early signs, it is still difficult to assess its potential popularity with music fans. On one hand, the lower price point may be enough to persuade the teetering, borderline 'pirates' to start paying for music. But, humans are creatures of habit, and convincing someone who perceives little value in digital music that they should all-of-a-sudden pay for music, might require some pretty strong arm-twisting. Nevertheless, the concept of second-hand digital music might serve as an acceptable entry-point for those who don’t currently take part in the legitimate music market.
I remember spending countless hours after school, rummaging painstakingly through the ‘new arrivals’ bin of my local second-hand CD store. My meagre income as a suburban paperboy meant the new release section at Brashs Music was well out of my reach (unless I was content settling for a Jason Donovan single in the bargain bin). Having whittled a crate's worth of CDs down to a shortlist of five or six, I was left with the painful decision of which two or three were truly worth shelling out for. Upon arriving home, broke but beaming, I’d invariably discover that one of my new treasures had a deep, long scratch across its surface, right in the middle of a blistering Kirk Hammett guitar solo. Bummer. But, you get what you pay for, I’d remind myself.
Had I gone to school during the digital age, I might’ve turned to a new US-based service, ReDigi, which offers ‘second-hand’ mp3s for sale online.
What is ReDigi?
ReDigi describes its offering as ‘recycled digital media’, but with the benefit that, unlike physical media, its products never scratch or wear out. Users who wish to sell digital music files that they no longer want can ‘upload’ the tracks to ReDigi’s server for other users to purchase and download. ReDigi claims to have what it calls ‘verification’ and ‘hand off’ technology, which ensures that the digital music file is from a legitimate source and that any additional copies of a sold file are also deleted from the user’s computer. If a copy of a file that has already been sold reappears on a seller’s computer or synced device, and the seller does not delete it after receiving notice from ReDigi, the seller’s account with ReDigi may be suspended or terminated. ReDigi also pays a percentage of sales to the relevant artists and labels. ReDigi is different from file-sharing sites in that each track offered for sale is a unique, identifiable file, and has not been cloned from a master file.
Is it legally legit?
That’s the big question at the moment. Many record labels and industry bodies are casting a raised eyebrow in ReDigi’s direction because the service treads upon a legal grey patch. The way digital music sales normally operate is that when a customer purchases a song, a reproduction of the ‘master’ file is made, which requires a licence from the label or artist.
The Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) and international record label EMI Music have objected to the legality of the service on the basis that ReDigi is infringing copyright when a 'copy' of the track is made as it is uploaded to ReDigi’s servers. They claim that this copying has not been done with a licence, irrespective of the fact that the original file is removed from the user’s computer once it has been uploaded to ReDigi.
Google has also weighed in on the legal debate by suggesting that a finding against ReDigi could potentially place the legality of cloud computing under…well, a grey cloud.
But in the midst of the current legal stoush, the short-sighted labels appear to be missing the elephant in the room: consumers are willing to pay for music. In an era when music piracy is rampant and labels desperately scramble to give users a commercial incentive to pay for music, the success of a service like ReDigi should be seen as a silver lining.
What does this mean for music lovers and music labels?
Legal hurdles aside, services like ReDigi provide a compromise between the mainstream digital music stores and the illegal (and unreliable) file sharing sites. As songs on digital music stores in Australia now nudge upwards of $2 each, it is unsurprising that consumers are turning to alternative sources.
Though ReDigi shows promising early signs, it is still difficult to assess its potential popularity with music fans. On one hand, the lower price point may be enough to persuade the teetering, borderline 'pirates' to start paying for music. But, humans are creatures of habit, and convincing someone who perceives little value in digital music that they should all-of-a-sudden pay for music, might require some pretty strong arm-twisting. Nevertheless, the concept of second-hand digital music might serve as an acceptable entry-point for those who don’t currently take part in the legitimate music market.
On the other hand, retail consumers rely on trust and seek consistency. One-stop-shops, like iTunes or Amazon (which never 'run out of stock') offer the reliability and consistency that consumers will want. The seamless shopping experience and interactivity offered by the major players is unlikely to be replicated by ReDigi. But ultimately, that is something that will depend on how widely ReDigi is adopted, and the depth of its repertoire.
Would I use it?
Maybe. If I’m confident that I’m not breaking the law, that the file will be compatible with my devices, and if it’s well-priced, then I don’t see why not. But a lot will come down to the user experience. If I have to spend hours on end refreshing the site, trawling for that one pesky Jason Donovan track, then I’m better off trudging down to my local second-hand CD store and putting up with those darn scratches.
Monday, 16 April 2012
Can My Facebook Photos Negate My Good Fame and Character?
Dr Catherine Bond
Teachers of legal ethics are to some extent used to the unusual questions that arise in classes on procedures and policies for admission to practice as a solicitor or barrister. In many instances this class will be a student’s first exposure to what happens post-law school and the requirements that the student be both eligible to be admitted (having previously completed the requisite academic qualifications and practical legal training) and are suitable to be admitted, on the basis that he or she is a ‘fit and proper person’. A fit and proper person is defined to include a person of good fame and character, who is not insolvent, has not previously practised in Australia or overseas without a practising certificate, or who has not previously committed an offence. Perhaps understandably, when students become aware of these rules, closets full of skeletons past begin to open and nervous students begin to question whether this or that incident could have an impact on his or her admission to practise law.
Great emphasis has been placed in New South Wales and more generally on the act of disclosure: that an applicant disclose any prior or current behaviour that may negate their good fame and character, ranging in activities from receiving a transport fine to a finding of plagiarism while at university. The forms that potential solicitors must complete are geared towards this act of disclosure, containing a number of general conduct statements that, if one is not true about the applicant, requires the applicant to ‘strike out’ and disclose the circumstances as to why that statement may not be true. The consequences of a failure to disclose can often lead to a decision by the Legal Profession Admission Board to not admit an applicant or, if the failure to disclose is found following admission, to be struck off from legal practice.
In a recent class a discussion arose as to what impact the existence of photos on Facebook may have on an applicant’s good fame and character. The debate follows a recent flurry of reports in the media of employers asking for the username and password of potential employee’s Facebook accounts as part of a virtual ‘background check’. In turn, Facebook has advised its members not to disclose such information. The student’s question was therefore quite topical: if employers are interested in what is on a potential employee’s Facebook page, then surely the Legal Profession Admission Board might be, particularly given that many individuals have photos depicting events and other information available via that social networking site that may ultimately negate their ‘good fame and character’?
Public embarrassment from Facebook photos is not a new phenomenon; Australia’s ‘public figures’ have in the past had photos posted either by themselves or their ‘Facebook friends’ published in the media. In 2008 a number of provocative photos of Olympic gold medallist Stephanie Rice that appeared on Facebook were subsequently published in a number of Australia’s major newspapers, tarnishing both the public ‘golden girl’ image of Rice and also her then-boyfriend, fellow Olympic swimmer Eamon Sullivan. Rice’s subsequent 2010 experiences with Twitter, which culminated in a teary press conference where she publicly apologised for her offensive tweet, further indicate the damage that an over-exuberant use of social media can cause.
Yet it is becoming difficult to avoid social networking if students want to keep informed about events going on in law schools, universities and law firms, with an increasing number of public and private organisations either creating Facebook pages or Twitter feeds to notify interested parties of news, legal updates and events. In England the UK Supreme Court has an official Twitter feed where the release of decisions are posted, questions answered and job opportunities with the court listed. Indeed, it is likely that, with the greater proliferation of both Generation Y and the ‘digital generation’ into the workforce, this trend will both continue and grow. Thus, on the one hand, social networks are a valuable source of information for students, but on the other, they have become areas where students may not use these sites for their primary purpose – ‘networking’ and connecting with friends – for fear that their activities may be accessed by potential employers or ultimately affect admission to legal practice.
It appears that today’s students must find a balance between a fleeting moment that may have affected their ‘good fame and character’ and the permanent digital capture of that moment on Facebook. In any event, we may be moving towards a system where potential solicitors have to disclose what is on their Facebook pages.
Teachers of legal ethics are to some extent used to the unusual questions that arise in classes on procedures and policies for admission to practice as a solicitor or barrister. In many instances this class will be a student’s first exposure to what happens post-law school and the requirements that the student be both eligible to be admitted (having previously completed the requisite academic qualifications and practical legal training) and are suitable to be admitted, on the basis that he or she is a ‘fit and proper person’. A fit and proper person is defined to include a person of good fame and character, who is not insolvent, has not previously practised in Australia or overseas without a practising certificate, or who has not previously committed an offence. Perhaps understandably, when students become aware of these rules, closets full of skeletons past begin to open and nervous students begin to question whether this or that incident could have an impact on his or her admission to practise law.
Great emphasis has been placed in New South Wales and more generally on the act of disclosure: that an applicant disclose any prior or current behaviour that may negate their good fame and character, ranging in activities from receiving a transport fine to a finding of plagiarism while at university. The forms that potential solicitors must complete are geared towards this act of disclosure, containing a number of general conduct statements that, if one is not true about the applicant, requires the applicant to ‘strike out’ and disclose the circumstances as to why that statement may not be true. The consequences of a failure to disclose can often lead to a decision by the Legal Profession Admission Board to not admit an applicant or, if the failure to disclose is found following admission, to be struck off from legal practice.
In a recent class a discussion arose as to what impact the existence of photos on Facebook may have on an applicant’s good fame and character. The debate follows a recent flurry of reports in the media of employers asking for the username and password of potential employee’s Facebook accounts as part of a virtual ‘background check’. In turn, Facebook has advised its members not to disclose such information. The student’s question was therefore quite topical: if employers are interested in what is on a potential employee’s Facebook page, then surely the Legal Profession Admission Board might be, particularly given that many individuals have photos depicting events and other information available via that social networking site that may ultimately negate their ‘good fame and character’?
Public embarrassment from Facebook photos is not a new phenomenon; Australia’s ‘public figures’ have in the past had photos posted either by themselves or their ‘Facebook friends’ published in the media. In 2008 a number of provocative photos of Olympic gold medallist Stephanie Rice that appeared on Facebook were subsequently published in a number of Australia’s major newspapers, tarnishing both the public ‘golden girl’ image of Rice and also her then-boyfriend, fellow Olympic swimmer Eamon Sullivan. Rice’s subsequent 2010 experiences with Twitter, which culminated in a teary press conference where she publicly apologised for her offensive tweet, further indicate the damage that an over-exuberant use of social media can cause.
Yet it is becoming difficult to avoid social networking if students want to keep informed about events going on in law schools, universities and law firms, with an increasing number of public and private organisations either creating Facebook pages or Twitter feeds to notify interested parties of news, legal updates and events. In England the UK Supreme Court has an official Twitter feed where the release of decisions are posted, questions answered and job opportunities with the court listed. Indeed, it is likely that, with the greater proliferation of both Generation Y and the ‘digital generation’ into the workforce, this trend will both continue and grow. Thus, on the one hand, social networks are a valuable source of information for students, but on the other, they have become areas where students may not use these sites for their primary purpose – ‘networking’ and connecting with friends – for fear that their activities may be accessed by potential employers or ultimately affect admission to legal practice.
It appears that today’s students must find a balance between a fleeting moment that may have affected their ‘good fame and character’ and the permanent digital capture of that moment on Facebook. In any event, we may be moving towards a system where potential solicitors have to disclose what is on their Facebook pages.
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
The Most Secure SmartPhone?
Alana Maurushat and David Frew
With each new technological development or release of a new product comes the often-not-thought-about question, “Is this technology secure?” Most of us are quick to notice the price then we dive straight into the fascinating world of “what new things does my new gadget do?” Companies rush to deliver products jam packed with applications and attributes in order to meet the Christmas rush. Security, while part of the process, does not play a significant role in hardware and software development. This begs the question, which smartphone is the most secure?
This is an easy question to answer – whatever smartphone has the least amount of market share. Why? Criminals are drawn to technologies with maximum customers. The black market exploits and targets the companies who dominate the market. Market research by the NPD Group, Inc. suggests that Microsoft smartphone operating system has the smallest share, accounting for 2% of smartphone sales since launch. Apple’s iPhone follows at 29% of the market with Google’s Android leading the market with 53% of the total market. Microsoft is the safest smartphone – in attracting the least attention of the black market – because it is the least popular.
Malicious applications are developing quickly to take advantage of the smartphone market. There are some security features of both the iPhone and Android that are worth considering. iPhone “apps” downloaded from the App Store must first be vetted by the Apple security team; though this process is by no means foolproof. Android, on the other hand, does not vet any of its apps, only removing insecure and malicious apps once they are discovered. This does not, however, mean that the iPhone as a base product is necessarily safer than the Android.
In recent times, there has also been attention paid to the efforts of a variety of security experts in exposing alternative vulnerabilities of the Android system, though it would also be possible to exploid such vulnerabilities on Apple’s iOS. Though the Android security breach was extremely expensive (US$15,000 in software and development) it also relied upon the complete trust and lack of awareness of the greater smartphone-using population. Whilst Apple, Google and Microsoft will do everything in their power to protect their smartphones from unauthorised access, there is little they can do to prevent users from personally authorising malware. Ironically, this method of breach is both the most potent and the easiest to prevent as it simply involves educating users to be savvy when links are sent their phones via text, particularly from unrecognised numbers.
The jury is hung: both the iPhone and Android command control of the smartphone market and both have features which allow, if not altogether encourage, cybercrime. So if safety is your ultimate concern, head for the Microsoft smartphone.
Image by William Hook, made available by Creative Commons licence via Flickr.
With each new technological development or release of a new product comes the often-not-thought-about question, “Is this technology secure?” Most of us are quick to notice the price then we dive straight into the fascinating world of “what new things does my new gadget do?” Companies rush to deliver products jam packed with applications and attributes in order to meet the Christmas rush. Security, while part of the process, does not play a significant role in hardware and software development. This begs the question, which smartphone is the most secure?
This is an easy question to answer – whatever smartphone has the least amount of market share. Why? Criminals are drawn to technologies with maximum customers. The black market exploits and targets the companies who dominate the market. Market research by the NPD Group, Inc. suggests that Microsoft smartphone operating system has the smallest share, accounting for 2% of smartphone sales since launch. Apple’s iPhone follows at 29% of the market with Google’s Android leading the market with 53% of the total market. Microsoft is the safest smartphone – in attracting the least attention of the black market – because it is the least popular.
Malicious applications are developing quickly to take advantage of the smartphone market. There are some security features of both the iPhone and Android that are worth considering. iPhone “apps” downloaded from the App Store must first be vetted by the Apple security team; though this process is by no means foolproof. Android, on the other hand, does not vet any of its apps, only removing insecure and malicious apps once they are discovered. This does not, however, mean that the iPhone as a base product is necessarily safer than the Android.
Most smartphones run on a 3G or 4G system. These systems were designed with some security in mind. The typical 3G network allows for User Equiptment (UE) to ensure the connection is to an intended network rather than an impersonator. There is also the use of a block cipher to ensure encryption of data. In most Australian cities there is excellent 3G and increasingly 4G coverage. In more remote areas, however, there is only 2G coverage. The 2G coverage is extremely insecure as it was not developed with any security mechanisms in place. This makes any smartphone running on a 2G network susceptible to message interception and all sorts of cybercrime. Most smartphones automatically will look for 2G coverage when no 3G or 4G is available. The Android allows the user to set its default so that it will not connect to 2G coverage if a 3G or 4G network is unavailable. The iPhone does not offer this setting. Thus the user cannot instruct an iPhone not to switch to 2G coverage which, in turn, may expose iPhone users to cybercrime.
The jury is hung: both the iPhone and Android command control of the smartphone market and both have features which allow, if not altogether encourage, cybercrime. So if safety is your ultimate concern, head for the Microsoft smartphone.
Image by William Hook, made available by Creative Commons licence via Flickr.
Friday, 9 March 2012
Bridging the divide, over distance and time
Sophia Christou
One of the key goals of the Australian Government’s National Digital Economy Strategy is to increase levels of digital engagement in regional areas, and to narrow the digital divide between regional and metropolitan communities and businesses. Rollout and take-up of the National Broadband Network (NBN) and the opportunities it presents – according to the policy, to increase access to infrastructure and services, ultimately raising productivity across regions – is seen as one means of achieving this.
Amidst heated debate over the politics, costs and outcomes associated with the Government’s NBN policy, it is worth reflecting upon some of the motivations underlying this emphasis on regional access to technology. Concerns about equitable access to services and information, national development goals and maintaining connections with regional life in the midst of technological change are anything but new.
During the 1920s, the new medium of radio was allowed to develop as an experimental technology largely in the absence of state oversight. Over the course of the decade, Australian politicians of all colours gradually recast the medium as one with great potential for assisting national progress, keeping the country’s small, widely-spread population informed and connected. Relying upon the constitutional grant of power in respect of communication technologies such as telephones and telegraphs, the Bruce Government (National/Country Party coalition) pressed ahead in the late 1920s in regulating the expansion of radio infrastructure and overseeing licensing systems for radio stations.
One of the key goals of the Australian Government’s National Digital Economy Strategy is to increase levels of digital engagement in regional areas, and to narrow the digital divide between regional and metropolitan communities and businesses. Rollout and take-up of the National Broadband Network (NBN) and the opportunities it presents – according to the policy, to increase access to infrastructure and services, ultimately raising productivity across regions – is seen as one means of achieving this.
Amidst heated debate over the politics, costs and outcomes associated with the Government’s NBN policy, it is worth reflecting upon some of the motivations underlying this emphasis on regional access to technology. Concerns about equitable access to services and information, national development goals and maintaining connections with regional life in the midst of technological change are anything but new.
During the 1920s, the new medium of radio was allowed to develop as an experimental technology largely in the absence of state oversight. Over the course of the decade, Australian politicians of all colours gradually recast the medium as one with great potential for assisting national progress, keeping the country’s small, widely-spread population informed and connected. Relying upon the constitutional grant of power in respect of communication technologies such as telephones and telegraphs, the Bruce Government (National/Country Party coalition) pressed ahead in the late 1920s in regulating the expansion of radio infrastructure and overseeing licensing systems for radio stations.
 |
| General Electric radio, circa 1952 |
One of the foremost reasons presented by the Government for establishing a national public radio service was the continuing neglect of many regional areas by early commercial radio stations. Regional population levels meant that broadcasting as a commercial undertaking in some of these areas was not financially viable. As part of the solution, the Australian Broadcasting Commission (ABC) was established by statute in 1932 as a national radio service, funded by public money and with responsibilities for broadcasting information and entertainment that would be of value to all audiences, regional as well as urban.
Efforts to maintain access to technology and information for regional audiences were not limited to government. We see this reflected in the business practices of audience survey firms that compiled ratings data – first for radio, and later, television. Two major firms dominated the Australian ratings business up until the 1970s – McNair and Anderson Analysis.
George Anderson recognised the importance of the ratings results particularly for small regional television stations serving local viewers, despite the challenges and costs often involved when surveying regional audiences. These types of services were a source of up-to-date information and entertainment for their communities, but because they were still essentially commercial undertakings, their continued existence relied on convincing station owners and advertisers of financial viability. In these cases, ratings data was not just a business service for station operators and advertisers; Anderson took the view that the integrity and accuracy of his service could play a part in representing the interests of regional audiences in an industry that concentrated mostly on metropolitan audience preferences.
Whether we are looking back at the earliest days of broadcasting, or forward to the digital economy goals of the current Government, we find an enduring interest in promoting the engagement and visibility of regional populations in media and digital landscapes. Arguably, this means more than just connecting regional populations to information and entertainment created for urban users. The connection moves in both directions. The need to maintain a collective consciousness of regional life seems to take on greater significance when technological advances – radio, television, digital media and ecommerce – threaten a greater separation between the reality of a largely metropolitan population and a service-based economy, and how we would like to remember or imagine ourselves to be.
From a pragmatic point of view, equitable access to digital infrastructure and services is of course fundamental to the national interest in economic growth and maintaining standards of living in both regional and metropolitan areas. It might also be said that ongoing efforts to promote regional access to technology are about more than just the interests of regional populations. Drawing attention to these interests, and more importantly, encouraging the visibility of regional life through local media forms and digital services, is one way of maintaining identification with the iconography and nostalgia associated with country Australia at a national level.
Image by Fernando Candeias, made available by Creative Commons licence via Flickr.
Monday, 20 February 2012
@Courtroomjunkie: Leave your phone at home!
Fatimah Omari
This story got me thinking: what impact do we have on the administration of justice when we bring our own technology into a courtroom? In a world of iPods, iPhones and iPads, we have clearly become addicted to a drug called technology and consumed by one mantra: iCan’tLiveWithoutIt. While the judiciary is embracing the shift towards sophisticated electronic courtrooms, many judges remain somewhat hostile towards the use of electronics by members of the public. The capacity of modern mobile phones and laptops to covertly capture sound and video or to instantly transmit information across the globe at the touch of a finger is proving to be a challenge for courts and judges.
Restrictions on the use of technology by members of the public are increasingly being introduced to avoid unnecessary interruptions to court proceedings and to protect the identities of witnesses and jurors.
A young Sydney woman recently discovered that justice is swift for those who flout the rules. The woman in question was charged with contempt after her inner photographer came out to play. She had heard through the grapevine that a family friend was serving on a jury and, to mark what she believed to be a notable occasion, the woman took a photo of the courtroom and several jurors’ faces. In a world of tweets and tumblrs, such images can be mass-broadcast, edited, tagged, discussed, re-tweeted and blogged in a matter of minutes.
This woman insisted that she attended court with good intentions and for the purpose of satisfying her curiosity of the Australian legal system. The judge handed down a slap on the wrist and released her without conviction. In contrast, a UK judge recently sentenced a man to two months in prison in order to send a simple message to the public: photography in the courtroom will not be tolerated. Imagine the impact on a closed session of court if a reckless Gen Y juror tweeted a blow-by-blow account of proceedings.
It may be obvious to some that the taking of photos, capturing video or recording speech and sounds in a courtroom is a no-no. However, the cases mentioned above are a sign of the times and reflect the impact of the technology revolution on human behaviour. It has become commonplace for a person to pull out their phone in response to anything mildly photogenic, so it should come as no surprise that the knee-jerk reaction of one woman, who was excited to see a familiar face in the jury, was to take a photo. The use of camera phones to capture and instantly circulate weird and wonderful images has become popular, particularly amongst younger generations. With every moment now being regarded as a Kodak one, the photographer feels compelled to share with masses of digital friends and random acquaintances.
Of course mobile phones and cameras are not the only devices capable of frustrating judges and court officers. When I worked as a paralegal on a case involving terrorism charges, I witnessed the transformation of the Sydney West Trial Court into a fortress. Dual security checkpoints at the entrance to the complex and the courtroom made me feel like I was passing through stringent airport security. Since the trial concerned matters of national security, all recording-enabled devices had to be surrendered prior to entry into the courtroom. Separation anxiety ran high.
The intimidating routine of being scanned with a wand, having bags checked and handing over phones and laptops quickly became annoying for paralegals and regular visitors. However, there was no denying that electronics were a potential security risk given their diminutive size and ubiquitous nature. According to a court officer, confiscation of my iPod was necessary as (with a small attachment) it is able to record sound.
The technology revolution has proved to be a double edged sword. With respect to courtrooms, the risk lies not only in the ability to discreetly photograph or record sensitive material, but also the ability to instantly transmit this data. Fortunately, such violations of court rules are minimal and, for the majority of people, common sense prevails over a desire to share images taken inside the Supreme Court.
Image courtesy of Robin Hutton, made available by creative commons licence via Flickr.
A young man recently had the audacity to steal a police officer’s hat from a Sydney courtroom. To the embarrassment of the thief, CCTV footage showed him looking up at the cameras seconds before committing the crime. Were it not for the CCTV cameras installed in the courtroom, the Police would have been at a loss to explain how a $150 hat could suddenly vanish into thin air. So what could possibly motivate the brazen young thief? The man, a part time dancer, sought a genuine police hat to add an element of reality to his dance ensemble. The magistrate did not share the same zeal for costume authenticity and described the crime as ‘stupidity at its highest’, placing the man on a two year good behaviour bond.
Restrictions on the use of technology by members of the public are increasingly being introduced to avoid unnecessary interruptions to court proceedings and to protect the identities of witnesses and jurors.
A young Sydney woman recently discovered that justice is swift for those who flout the rules. The woman in question was charged with contempt after her inner photographer came out to play. She had heard through the grapevine that a family friend was serving on a jury and, to mark what she believed to be a notable occasion, the woman took a photo of the courtroom and several jurors’ faces. In a world of tweets and tumblrs, such images can be mass-broadcast, edited, tagged, discussed, re-tweeted and blogged in a matter of minutes.
This woman insisted that she attended court with good intentions and for the purpose of satisfying her curiosity of the Australian legal system. The judge handed down a slap on the wrist and released her without conviction. In contrast, a UK judge recently sentenced a man to two months in prison in order to send a simple message to the public: photography in the courtroom will not be tolerated. Imagine the impact on a closed session of court if a reckless Gen Y juror tweeted a blow-by-blow account of proceedings.
It may be obvious to some that the taking of photos, capturing video or recording speech and sounds in a courtroom is a no-no. However, the cases mentioned above are a sign of the times and reflect the impact of the technology revolution on human behaviour. It has become commonplace for a person to pull out their phone in response to anything mildly photogenic, so it should come as no surprise that the knee-jerk reaction of one woman, who was excited to see a familiar face in the jury, was to take a photo. The use of camera phones to capture and instantly circulate weird and wonderful images has become popular, particularly amongst younger generations. With every moment now being regarded as a Kodak one, the photographer feels compelled to share with masses of digital friends and random acquaintances.
Of course mobile phones and cameras are not the only devices capable of frustrating judges and court officers. When I worked as a paralegal on a case involving terrorism charges, I witnessed the transformation of the Sydney West Trial Court into a fortress. Dual security checkpoints at the entrance to the complex and the courtroom made me feel like I was passing through stringent airport security. Since the trial concerned matters of national security, all recording-enabled devices had to be surrendered prior to entry into the courtroom. Separation anxiety ran high.
The intimidating routine of being scanned with a wand, having bags checked and handing over phones and laptops quickly became annoying for paralegals and regular visitors. However, there was no denying that electronics were a potential security risk given their diminutive size and ubiquitous nature. According to a court officer, confiscation of my iPod was necessary as (with a small attachment) it is able to record sound.
The technology revolution has proved to be a double edged sword. With respect to courtrooms, the risk lies not only in the ability to discreetly photograph or record sensitive material, but also the ability to instantly transmit this data. Fortunately, such violations of court rules are minimal and, for the majority of people, common sense prevails over a desire to share images taken inside the Supreme Court.
Image courtesy of Robin Hutton, made available by creative commons licence via Flickr.
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