When They’re Gone, But Not Yet Passed

Lillian B. Rubin has written a heartbreaking account of what it’s like to live with her husband who suffers from severe dementia:

[M]ourning a real death is quite different from mourning a living one. Whatever one believes about death — it’s a passage into a kinder world, it’s entry into nothingness, or anything in between — it’s still an undeniable fact. Death is finite; life, as we know it, is over. Yes, I know, people awaken with visions of visitations, but eventually we come to accept death as an end to life. But when the brain dies and leaves the body intact, there is no end.

It’s Amateur Hour Over at Flickr

Here’s one of those horrifying stories that serves as nightmare fuel for those of us who are passionate about photography:

Major, major stumble from Flickr today—a Zurich-based photoblogger says Flickr deleted his account by mistake and lost his 4,000 photos. Mirco Wilhelm has the original files saved elsewhere, but the photos from his extensive Flickr collection had been linked to from all over the web, including the official Flickr blog. Those links will now point to deadspace.

I also quite enjoy the apology e-mail that looks like it was written (very poorly) by a lowly support slave:

Unfortunately, I have mixed up the accounts and accidentally deleted yours. I am terribly sorry for this grave error and hope that this mistake can be reconciled. Here is what I can do from here:

I can restore your account, although we will not be able to retrieve your photos. I know that there is a lot of history on your account-again, please accept my apology for my negligence. Once I restore your account, I will add four years of free Pro to make up for my error.

Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do.

Again, I am deeply sorry for this mistake.

Both photographer and account deleter must have had a really, really bad day.

Update: Apparently, Flickr has restored Wilhelm’s account and given him 25 free years of Flickr Pro. Also, they’re extremely sorry about this mixup, y’know.

“Google Is The World’s Largest Information Thief”

Google recently accused Bing of cheating by stealing its search results. Bing responded by basically saying “kind of, but it’s not a big deal.” But my favorite take on the subject is by Daniel Eran Dilger, who runs down the litany of Google’s offenses:

Google is the world’s largest information thief, steamrolling partners, content creators and competitors alike under its concept of the wheels of progress, justifying its dealings as being a free remix and expression of ideas. That’s all fine and good if you don’t complain about other people also taking the information you publicly offer without a license and then remixing it themselves.

The Facebook Profile That Stole a Piece of Her Soul

Susan Arnout Smith writes compellingly on how some very, very bad people created a fake Facebook profile for her and destroyed her will:

I pressed the link. There are moments that are burned into the heart. I saw my face. It was a photo taken off one of my websites. I saw my name. The persona they had created, using my name, my face, was pornographic, trolling for sex. I pay good money. I sat stunned. There had to be a way of connecting to a real person, somebody who could help me get this removed.

But the saddest part is the moral of the story, which is that the same exact thing can happen to any one of us, and for no reason at all.

Requiem for the IFC News Podcast

One of the wonders of our modern age is that it allows for fairly intense, asymmetrical digital relationships. That is, we can all have personalities online that we follow and listen to and read, but these people may have no idea who we are. One of the means by which this takes place is through podcasting, where every week, voices and conversations and personal moments are piped through to our ears from thousands of miles away. These strangers we listen to may not know us, but in some small way, we know them. And maybe knowing them makes us feel slightly less alone.

This week, Matt Singer and Alison Willmore announced that they would no longer be recording the IFC News Podcast (Alison will be moving on to greener pastures from IFC, and I wish her the best. She’s an amazing, thoughtful writer and I can’t wait to see what she does next). I’ve previously named the IFC News Podcast as one of the podcasts I can’t live without. Back then, I wrote that “this podcast is a movie geek’s dream come true, with tons of thoughtful references to movies past and present.” I am really going to miss this show, as it has kept me company on many a car ride and through many a long walk. It was a rare episode that didn’t cause me to rethink a classic movie formula/trope, or inform me of some amazing film gem I had yet to see.

The show’s sudden departure is a reminder that, for the most part, podcasts are total labors of love, and that many of them only stay on the air through fortuitous circumstance and sheer force of will. (The IFC News podcast joins the Spout podcast, the Film.com podcast, and the Scene Unseen podcast as recent film podcasts that have permanently been downloaded to that great iPod in the sky). It sounds weird for me to say this (especially since I’ve had the privilege of meeting and speaking with Matt and Alison since I started listening to the podcast), but in many ways, losing the podcast feels like losing a dependable friend, one who would always be there to regale me with weekly stories of obscure movies and interesting observations. That their voices have left such an indelible impression on me is a testament to their skill, their intellect, and their likability.

A toast to the IFC News Podcast. You will be missed.

The Ridiculous Takedown of Robert Scoble

There’s this new site called Quora. You may have heard of it? It provides high-quality questions to user answers, and it determines the quality of these questions by user-vote. It’s also one of the hottest, most buzzed-about start-ups in Silicon Valley. Here’s a description from Quora’s “About” page:

Quora is a continually improving collection of questions and answers created, edited, and organized by everyone who uses it. The most important thing is to have each question page become the best possible resource for someone who wants to know about the question.

“But Dave,” you might ask. “Don’t a ton of other sites already do the same thing? Doesn’t the quality of questions/answer decline over time? Aren’t they usually plagued with problems, in terms of the quality of their answers as well as infestation by spammers?” Well, yes. All those things are actually true about Quora, or likely will be at some point. But, you see, Quora has been able to attract high-profile personalities and knowledgeable people to its platform, which has led to some pretty awesome and insightful answers on the site receiving quite a bit of attention from a lot of important people. It’s also inexplicably led to a site valuation of about $100 million.

I’ve used Quora, and I don’t find it user-friendly enough to go mainstream, nor do I find it differentiates itself enough from competing services to make it worthy of all this attention. Yet. The Wall Street Journal’s review of the site adeptly captures the opinion of most laypeople on what it’s like to use Quora (if they’ve even heard of it, which most of them haven’t).

All that being said, I was struck with the absolute ridiculousness of an online exchange between several high-profile users, who have recently taken to their blogs to battle it out about the usefulness of Quora. You see, blogging titan Robert Scoble, who was one of Quora’s most popular users, recently declared that “Quora is a horrid service for blogging.” Turns out, Scoble thought that the site would transform the way he blogged and interacted with others. When Scoble brought his considerable fanbase with him to Quora, it allowed all his answers to get upvoted to the top, thus providing the illusion that this was just another platform for him to extend his brand. You could call the influx of Quora followers he brought in something along the lines of “The Robert Scoble Effect,” and in some ways, his became an unwelcome presence.

First of all, as others have already pointed out, it was never really intended to be a service for blogging. But furthermore, when a site such as Quora ostensibly rates answers based on the quality of answers, only to find answer ratings determined by an invasion of Scoble followers, it tends to get pissed off. And that’s exactly what happened. A post addressed to Scoble at the Quora Reviewer retorted:

This morning, after seeing some of your favored Quora answers down-voted into oblivion and experiencing the anonymous sting of an overzealous reviewer, you decided to lash out. Quora, you wrote, was ”a horrid service for blogging.” Sure, you said, “it’s fine for a QA site, but we have lots of those.” As if to administer a finishing move, you added that Quora’s competitors are actually bigger and better and badder – especially Stack Exchange, where “the answers are broader in reach and deeper in quality.” Well, sorry, Scoble, Quora is not your playground.

Arrington from TechCrunch also posted a rebuttal to Scoble. So, Scoble backed down. And I don’t think he should have.

Sure, Scoble might have had the wrong idea about the site’s premise. But whose fault is that really? Scoble for doing what comes naturally to him, which is to evangelize about hot new services and bring a ton of followers with him who are naturally predisposed to upvote his stuff? Or Quora, for not developing a system that will actually do what it says, and surface the highest quality content?

I’ve written before about the limits of crowdsourcing. The take home message of my previous piece is that crowdsourcing is extremely difficult. Writing an algorithm that will result in the best answers receiving the most votes is nigh impossible when your site has a limited number of users. Quora’s buzz is not built on its ability to do this, but rather the high-profile/knowledgeable people who have posted memorable answers to some of its questions. I agree completely with Vivek Wadha, who wrote:

I think that Quora will continue to be an excellent resource if the same people who have been hyping it, and who have invested in it, keep posting their thoughtful answers. But I believe that the excess hype is destined to make Quora a victim of its own press. The quality of answers will decline. The people whose opinion I value, such as Quora’s #1 respondent, Robert Scoble, will simply stop posting on the site when they get drowned out by the noise from the masses. They will turn away after having their posts voted down (so that they look less important than their peers) and being personally subjected to the types of mindless, anonymous attacks that you see in the comments section of TechCrunch.

Not to say that there aren’t many other smart people who will post good answers. But when there are hundreds of answers to a given question, by people you have never heard of (often with fictitious names), how will you separate the wheat from the chaff? And how will you distinguish fact from fiction? You certainly can’t trust the rankings of the respondents when these rankings are themselves generated by Quora users.

Let me draw new lessons from these analyses: In order for a site such as Quora to truly become useful, it must either 1) embrace its niche status and nurture its fledgling community (with the hierarchy that that entails), or 2) it must go mainstream enough that it can fulfill its vision of a truly crowdsourced, useful resource.

Let me expand on each of these. What I mean by embracing its niche is to say that when you have the relatively limited number of users that Quora does, naturally, some users will rise to the top due to their pre-existing influence or the consistent quality of their answers. It is possible to embrace this. Other crowdsourcing sites give special privileges (e.g. adminstrator status, “top user” status) to those who are most active, or who provide the highest-quality material. Likewise, if Quora’s top users begin to constitute an online oligarchy, Quora could channel their abilities to continue to improve its site.

Alternatively, if the site really does get enough mainstream adoption, then it could become something akin to the next Wikipedia, where the final product truly is a reflection of what the majority of people think are the best answers. Based on a variety of factors, I don’t see this happening.

[There is a third alternative that I haven’t listed: PeopleRank. If Quora can make its ranking algorithm better than that of any other site, then it has a chance to differentiate itself and truly succeed at its stated goal. It’s a daunting task. We’ll see how they do.]

The above ecosystems are obviously far more complex than I’m making them out to be here, but my point still stands. It is the apex of absurdity that a power user such as Scoble should be scolded for misunderstanding how to use a site such as Quora, especially when that site does not even come close to living up to its own mission. Scoble himself put it best when he wrote the following:

[Quora is] just fine for a QA site, but we already have lots of those and, in fact, the competitors in this space are starting to react. Mahalo just released a new version that has been getting lots of praise and at DLD I met the CEO of Answers.com and he said to expect a major update from his service (which has 1000x more users). Stack Exchange is growing faster than Quora and has many many times more questions and answers, plus I’ve found the answers are broader in reach, and deeper in quality (especially for programmers).

In the face of criticism, Scoble backed down. But it’s really Quora that should be criticized, for not creating a system that was be able to withstand the Robert Scoble Effect.

Steve Jobs: Hope for a Secular World

I really love this essay by Andy Crouch about the hope that Steve Jobs brings to the world. Jobs, you may know, recently took a medical leave of absence for an indefinite period of time. Crouch speculates on what the world would be like if he never returned:

Steve Jobs’s medical leave of absence is the top story in today’s newspapers. The Wall Street Journal says his brief and poignant memo raises “uncertainty over his health and the future of the world’s most valuable technology company.” These two questions—Jobs’s health and Apple’s health—are the focus of almost all the coverage today. But I’m interested in the health of our culture, and what will happen to it when (not if) Steve Jobs departs the stage for the last time.

As remarkable as Steve Jobs is in countless ways—as a designer, an innovator, a (ruthless and demanding) leader—his most singular quality has been his ability to articulate a perfectly secular form of hope. Nothing exemplifies that ability more than Apple’s early logo, which slapped a rainbow on the very archetype of human fallenness and failure—the bitten fruit—and made it a sign of promise and progress.