In fact, having now spent 20 minutes staring at those two sentences, I’m finding it a bit hard to know where to begin. We spent quite a lot of time on the plane, but in between, we met a sparkling array of very interesting people from all sorts of backgrounds, visited places from the firmly affluent to the strikingly poor, and learned some valuable lessons about technology, democracy and civic engagement.

My bit of the trip was the hack day that we did at Google with some Indian developers. Rohan Silva, Liam Maxwell, Edmund von der Burg, Tim Green, David McCandless and I turned up at Google India, not quite knowing what to expect. After a very delicious curried breakfast we piled into a meeting room for a big chat with lots of Indian developers. I’ve written about the hack day separately, and David’s also done a piece on the Guardian Data Blog.

The Prime Minister

After a hurried lunch, we all piled back on to the plane for our flight to Delhi, which took several hours. Upon arriving we were briskly sent off to an evening reception, where the PM did a short speech (and where I just-so-happened to wander over and mention Dextrous Web, which he seemed excited about). The reception was fairly short, and we were soon back at the hotel, where — after a brief spell in the indescribably humid Delhi evening — we all went off to bed.

South Asia Foundation

The next morning, we went off to learn about the Panchayati Raj. It’s a system of elected village assemblies which receive money from the Indian government to spend on local services. It’s an interesting approach, and embodies many of the current government’s Big Society principles: radical decentralisation, with local decision-making and accountability. After a briefing from the British High Commission and a panel session at the South Asia Foundation, we left the city to visit several village Panchayats and see the work that they do.

Paved, with gutters

For me, this was undoubtedly the highlight of the trip. We visited several villages, saw how people there live, met elected Panchayat members and saw the improvements they were making to their villages. One had managed to pave all its streets, with proper gutters, and had built a school. Another was making a proper dirt road between their village and the next. We visited the workers as they were leveling the ground, and the difference between the completed road and the rest was remarkable — I doubt our minibus could have traversed the lumpen, muddy path that they were following.

Periodic Table

More than anything else, though, I was moved by the extraordinary welcome that we received. Every village gave us garlands and flowers, and sat us down for tea, water and spiced nuts. One processed us through the streets with music. They were warm, generous and proud. At one village we were drinking Chai in the local school when I spotted a periodic table on the wall and took a picture. The principal of the school came over and told me about how it had been made by his 11-year-old students. The chief civil engineer for the district accompanied us and told us all about the roads and schools that they were building. In the first village, we walked past an incongruously well stocked pharmacy, and one of the kids came over to tell me about it.

Of course, my impressions are skewed. I’m sure it’s unusual for westerners to visit these villages, and that that provoked a certain level of excitement — especially with one of the PM’s senior policy advisers leading the group. I would like to know what day-to-day life is like in these places. One of the officials we visited later said that he thought 80% of Panchayats probably experienced some degree of fraud or embezzlement, which I don’t doubt. But the improvements in these villages were clear, and the villages’ sense of pride was palpable. So fraud is, perhaps, an acceptable cost of doing business.

Eventually, and reluctantly, we got back on our minibus and headed for home. Upon arriving back in the city, we went to a plush reception thrown by BBC Worldwide at the hotel — wherein, incidentally, a 24-hour wifi pass cost the same as 7 days’ pay for one of the labourers building the dirt road we’d been standing on not two hours earlier. It was a stark contrast. India is definitely a country of extremes.

At the South Asia Foundation, the Minister leading the Indian delegation said that Indian governments had a history of promising people the world, and then failing to deliver. That India is just so big, and so populous, that central government couldn’t even make most of the people happy, most of the time. It’s this reality that he said the Panchayati Raj are there to fix. He said that radical decentralisation is the only system that can work in a country as big as India, and that it is vital to make it work to prevent people losing faith in democracy as a system of government.

This argument seems plausible to me. But it made me wonder how the UK could learn lessons from India, given that we don’t have the same problems of scale. We also don’t have the same degree of engagement in civil issues — or anything even close to it. But that is, perhaps, to be expected. India has more to do. And in fact, I suspect that the motivations for Indians to become involved in civil issues are much the same as those of Britons. You can bet that if London had no roads, schools or hospitals, a vast number of Londoners would be doing things about it. And, in fact, most people do get involved in some way when things happen that affect them directly: like school and hospital closures, or objectionable planning applications.

And that, I think, is the lesson. In these villages, everyone knew the Panchayat members. And when the members walk down the street, people go up to them, and air their concerns. As more than one person told us, politics in India is very personal. People know who to ask, and how the system works — primarily because it is simple, and they are close to it. At least, when it comes to Panchayati Raj*.

But that is the polar opposite of the UK, where almost no one knows their Councillors, and where engaging with local government means climbing a nigh-impassable mountain of tedious bureaucratic complexity. Where, unsurprisingly, most people decide it’s not worth the effort. And whence the chattering classes are born: that particular breed of people who enjoy traversing the peaks and valleys of big bureaucracies.

If that’s the problem that the Big Society is supposed to solve, I’m all for it. And I think the Indians are probably lighting the path.

*The rest of Indian government is notoriously bureaucratic!

Hoffman Voltameter Mark II (it's a bit better)

This version has smaller bottles, reducing the amount of electrolyte needed, and goes back to using silicone sealant to attach the PEX piping to the bottles.

The glue gun was just too leak prone. Although it was much quicker to work with, the glue is very rigid when dry, so handling the apparatus (eg when filling or emptying) tended to create leaks. So I decided to be patient, and use sealant, which is much more flexible when dry. I also sanded the area around the holes in the bottles, and the ends of the PEX pipes, so that the sealant would adhere more effectively.

This version works much better! It’s leak-free, and I succeeded in generating about 100ml of hydrogen and collecting it by releasing the clamp and using a makeshift gas bubbler. I passed it over a flame, and heard the squeaky pop — perhaps the best one I’ve *ever* heard, considering the effort it took!

Unfortunately, I had a little less luck with the Chlorine. A small quantity of gas was generated at the anode, but I could not discern any particular colour. Conversely, the electrolyte in the anode bottle had a definite green tinge. I suspect that the Chlorine is largely dissolving in the water, and that the gas I collected at the top was probably a small amount of Oxygen. This feels more plausible than it otherwise would given that the electrolyte was not a saturated solution. I’ll test this out later.

However, this version isn’t without its problems. There’s some visible corrosion around the join between the electrode and the wire, which I tried to insulate using heat shrink. As it’s clear that the steel connection is being oxidised, that’s obviously not working. I also don’t like that the electrodes are dangling from cables. It feels… bad. So, I’m going to take the plunge and mount them permanently to the bottles from the outside, which will remove the steel connection from the electrolyte entirely as well as making it all a bit neater.

Another very strange problem is that the water level in the three containers is not always the same, even when the tubes are open to the atmosphere. This is a bit baffling, to say the least. I think that the tubes are probably at fault: their internal diameter is very small (about 2mm) and I think there’s some kind of capillary effect at work. I’m going to replace these with some normal 5mm PVC tubing and see if that solves the problem.

This version is much better than its predecessor, and I’ve experienced some success. But I think there’s better to come.

Anyway. For a fun project, and to start understanding electrochemistry better (which, as soon as you scratch the surface, becomes rather complicated), I’ve been building a Hofmann Voltameter. They’re made for electrolysing things, typically water, in such a way that one can easily collect the gases. The proper ones look like this:

A Hofmann Voltameter

And are rather expensive. I figured I could make one. So, I set about it last weekend, and this was the result (forgive the clutter!):

My Hoffman Voltameter, Mark I!

The two bottles at either side are 500ml diet coke bottles. They’re joined by a push-fit T-junction and some PEX pipe to the central bottle, an M&S orange juice bottle, which is used to add the electrolyte. The base has a shaped grove to hold the bottles in place with a pole at the back to support the central bottle so it doesn’t swing forwards and spill. The lids of the coke bottles each have a tube which is used to collect the gases, and a cable to which is connected the electrode. The electrodes themselves are made of carbon fibre — somewhat cheaper than platinum and, unlike graphite, does not readily fall apart. Unfortunately, this didn’t work so well. There were problems:

• This leaked, quite significantly, where the pipes enter the coke bottles. Eventually I managed to get the major ones but even when it appeared to have stopped leaking it would grow new ones.
• The gases were not effectively collected. The electrodes sat at an angle and tended to produce a circular current within the electrolyte which drew a large proportion of the bubbles back into the bottle rather than letting them rise to the surface. The bubbles were also very small, which — combined with the textured surface of the bottles — tended to make the bubbles stick to the inside of the bottle.

The combination of a slowly leaking system and a relatively small amount of gas reaching the top meant that no gas was ultimately collected at all. To compound the problem, my glue gun broke, so I couldn’t deal with the leaks. At this point, slightly frustratedly, I decided that it wasn’t really worth fixing anyway — as it would take a very, very long time to produce a usable amount of anything.

So, on to Mark II: I’ve built a new version using square 330ml Copella bottles. These are much less textured, and as they’re square they’re easier to glue to the pipes than the round coke bottles. They’re also smaller, therefore requiring less electrolyte than the 500ml coke bottles, and allowing the height of the central bottle to be reduced. As I write, the Mark II is bing leak tested: sitting in my kitchen full of bright red water on a bed of white tissue paper!

I’ll post again when I’ve had a chance to test it.

Jeremy Corbyn (Lab, incumbent)

Pros

Corbyn is an excellent constituency MP. He is responsive and personable. We seem to agree on most of the issues I’ve written to him about — primarily civil liberties things. He voted against the Digital Economy Bill. Though Labour, he is an arch-rebel: so I trust him to vote with his conscience rather than his party, most of the time.

Cons

I’ve been looking forward to voting against Labour for quite a long time. ID cards, Blair, wars, etc — Labour haven’t been all bad but they’ve been on the wrong side too often for me. Also, Corbyn is very old labour: a hard left socialist. Though I’ve been grateful for his votes against some of Labour’s worst legislative follies, I suspect we’d disagree more often than not.

Rhodri Jamieson-Ball (Libdem)

Pros

I’ve been very impressed with Clegg over the last month. I think he’s really held his own. If we could vote for a head of state, he’d have my vote in a flash. Unfortunately, though, we can’t. So Jamieson-Ball is my only choice if I want to support them. He’s been a councillor for some years, and is clearly active on lots of local issues. I do think it’s about time someone else had a go — since neither the Conservatives nor Labour are terribly inspiring — and the Liberals seem a natural choice.

Cons

I swing wildly from one extreme to the other with the LibDems. Sometimes I think they’re wonderful (Clegg in the first debate, good civlibs rhetoric) and other times, awful (utterly incompetent web-blocking amendement on the Digital Economy Bill). I do get a general sense that they just aren’t very organised (as I do with the Greens).

The thing that’s annoyed me the most, though, is a graph from this letter delivered last week:

This graph is a lie. The numbers are correct, but they bear almost no relation to the heights of the bars. It gives the impression that Labour and the Liberals are very close in the running. The text is also bigger and more prominent in the Liberals’ bar. I’ve produced a corrected version:

Which tells a rather different story.

If these people can’t even be honest in an election leaflet, why should I trust them to be honest in government? This is leaflet is deliberately designed to deceive people. And I think it’s cost them my vote.

Adrian Berrill-Cox (Con)

Pros

I am very impressed by the Conservatives’ technology policies. They’re saying the right things about the web, reforming procurement and making government IT better. But that’s about it.

Cons

Well. They’re the Tories. I remain to be convinced that “Progressive Conservative” is not a contradiction in terms. I’m not at all convinced by Cameron. Marriage incentives make me want to barf. And, if recent revelations are to be believed, they still shelter a veritable menagerie of homophobes. Not to mention people who still rue the demise of the British Empire. I don’t think they’ve changed much, no matter how hard Cameron has been trying.

Emily Dixon (Green)

Not really a possibility. I would probably vote Green tactically if I was in Brighton Pavillion. But I’m not, and their manifesto continues to contain “mad things”, like totally unworkable emission cuts, the mother of all tax rises and the abolition of nuclear power. No thanks.

Dominic Lennon (UKIP)

Lol. No.

So: what do you think? Very grateful for your thoughts!

You need to write to your MP, and ring them up, and ask them to attend the house to vote against this bill. Go. Do it. Now!

Dear Mr Corbyn,

I’ve just called and left a message, but I thought it would be good to follow up by email.

This afternoon, the Digital Economy Bill will receive its committee, report and third reading stages, all in two hours.

Some of the most damaging parts of the bill — clauses 10-17 — remain unopposed by the Conservatives, and are still supported by the Government.

These clauses have not been properly scrutinised by the Commons, may be very costly and damaging to the digital economy and to the digital civil liberties of your constituents and should not be passed without full and proper consideration.

I hope that you will attend the house this afternoon to vote against this bill at third reading. It can easily be reintroduced after the election, and given proper consideration, if the new Government so wishes.

Online copyright infringement has been rife for over a decade. It can wait for three more months. The sky will not fall down.

Yours Sincerely,

Harry Metcalfe

Today marks a critical day for the UK’s creative industries, as the House of Commons will debate the Digital Economy Bill. If passed, the Bill will provide urgently needed support for our creative talent and the businesses which have made the UK one of the leading creative economies in the world.

Indeed. A day where, after an afternoon’s discussion, a bill will be voted through the Commons for a committee stage lasting just a few short hours — the wash-up. Where the outcome will be pre-determined by the party leaders and whips, making back-room deals, out of sight of the public. This in place of a detailed process of scrutiny which usually takes days.

The digital age and high-speed broadband have brought a host of exciting new services, but what is holding us back is having to compete with illegal file-sharing conducted on a vast scale.

Is it? Really? Online sales of music now exceed CD royalties. Spotify gained 9 million users in six months last year. An 800% increase.

At what point will legislators and the general public look at the numbers and conclude that the record industry is just wrong, or lying? You cannot on the one hand claim that the Internet is a fundamental threat to your business, and on the other, report increasing revenues and massive growth. The two cannot be reconciled.

Considering that all this money is being made in spite of the record industry’s crippling conservatism and onerous demands upon innovators, it’s hard not to wonder how much more money they could be making if they’d just get with the programme.

The Digital Economy Bill is a sensible approach to tackling online piracy, focusing on education of consumers through notifications which must include advice to the internet account holder together with information on legal services. Only if technical measures are found to be necessary and are subsequently introduced would they be applied to the accounts of those who repeatedly ignore notifications warning them to stop illegally file-sharing.

Letters and education are positive things. I don’t think anyone objects to them. It’s the technical measures that are unacceptable. The CCC disingenuously insert an “if” into that paragraph (emphasis mine). Given that the Government have set an unreachable 70% target for reduction of unlawful file-sharing, it’s beyond doubt that they will be found to be necessary.

And then what? Hidden behind comfortable words like “technical measures” and “applied to the accounts” are serious extra-judicial sanctions; collective punishments that will be debilitating. Is it right to disconnect entire families from the internet because someone in the household persistently downloads Metallica albums? What if that connection is used to run a business? What happens to their income? What happens when the kids can’t do their homework and the parents can’t pay their bills?

I no longer have a cheque book. Do you? I no longer have a yellow pages. I no longer receive paper statements for my bank accounts or utilities. The Internet is a critical utility, as vital as electricity and gas. So says Gordon Brown. We don’t disconnect the water supplies of people who flout hosepipe bans, or the electricity of people who grow weed in the attic.

Of course, as part of this process alleged infringers will have access to a fair, fast and effective appeals process. Surely, this is a much better outcome for consumers and reatives than the current sanction of court actions against individuals for damages?

Fair, fast and effective? That’s a bit of a reach. A fair system does not presume guilt, strip you of due process and then restore bits upon payment of a fee. A fair system cannot be established on the back of dubious methods for collecting evidence that have been comprehensively rubbished in other jurisdictions.

The UK’s creative businesses now contribute economic output of at least £60 billion per annum and account for 1.8 million jobs in the UK; however, according to a report launched this month by TERA Consultants, more than 250,000 jobs could be directly at risk if immediate action is not taken against the huge growth in online piracy.

Again — this doesn’t gel with the reality that online revenues are rising, despite the record industry’s remarkable lack of nous in failing to create an environment that encourages new and innovative services to arise. That same report, highlights a 1130% rise in digital revenues between 2004-2008, and a 49% drop in physical sales. And a 228% increase in video on demand. In total, there’s a 13% fall in revenues — due, apparently, to a drop in filmed entertainment revenues.

So, why haven’t they made an iTunes for TV, and seen a 1130% rise in revenue there, too? God knows. I don’t.

We must not let this opportunity pass.

A telling line. What opportunity is that? The opportunity, perhaps, to squeeze this bill through the legislature while the majority of MPs aren’t paying attention?

Opponents of the Bill have tried to block its progress through a campaign that distorted the truth about the Digital Economy Bill.

I don’t think so. I think the lies and spin are blowing in precisely the opposite direction. Hopefully, people will be able to tell the difference. Hopefully, this is one battle that corporate lobbyists won’t win.

In reality, however, the Bill is a sensible and much needed response to what has become an unacceptable situation for those whose livelihoods depend on the success of the creative industries.

In reality, the creative industries have long been making their own bed, and are now lobbying for laws that stop them having to lie in it. It’s Sony vs Universal all over again, but bigger. Why they and our politicians are unable to see this is mystifying. As usual, I suspect a heady mix of groupthink and ignorance is to blame.

In any case — we, who can see, need to fight the good fight. So go and join the Open Rights Group, and help fight for a Digital Economy Bill that makes sense.

Updated to add: And, on the very day that the bill has its second reading in the Commons, this press release from the BPI arrives in my feed — about how great things are and about how their wonderful online services are making so much money. I shit you not.

They put a pledge on Pledgebank a while ago, seeking regular donations from supporters so that they can go on doing more splendid things. Unfortunately, the pledge failed — but I don’t think that really matters. I’ve signed up anyway. They deserve your support — can you spare them £5 a month?

Donate to the OKF

Dear Ms Harman,

I am writing to you as Leader of the House of Commons.

As I’m sure you’re aware, the Digital Economy Bill is shortly to be discussed in the Commons, and I am very concerned that it is not going to receive the scrutiny from MPs that such a complex bill demands.

This bill is complicated, and could have significant (possible unintended) affects if passed as drafted. Much of the bill is clearly drafted for the benefit of commercial entities, in ignorance of technological realities and contempt of the public interest. Recent revelations from Dispatches seem to confirm that the ability of wealthy special interests to influence our legislative process is alive and well.

In any situation such as this — where commercial and public interests are competing, over a complex and nuanced problem — it is vital for proposed legislation to be scrutinised diligently and comprehensively. To attempt to rush such a bill through in the last weeks of a Parliament is deeply inappropriate.

In its current form, the Bill strips away human rights to due process, establishes collective punishments and establishes an infrastructure for state censorship of the web.

All in the name of protecting an industry whose history is both littered with attempts to secure protectionist policies when threatened by technological developments, and success stories of growth, adaptation and increased profitability when those attempts fail.

This is a complex problem with no simple solution. I urge you to give it sufficient Commons time for a full and proper debate, or to allow the bill to fall and bring it before a new Parliament after the election.

Yours Sincerely,

Harry Metcalfe

Feel free to crib bits. Please do send her a letter — and why not send it to your MP too?

I’ve found people to be generally excited, understanding and supportive. We’ve got a lot done on good will alone, and I hope we’ve given enough back.

That said, some of the things the article says certainly resonate — especially people being suspicious of success — and we’ve never had to seek VC. So perhaps my experience isn’t representative.

Sir,

I have been watching the movement of the Digital Economy Bill through the House of Lords with some concern. Most notable among its faults are the proposals to disconnect entire households from the internet for the alleged infringements of individuals living there — a collective punishment — and the ability for ministers to arbitrarily amend the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act by statutory instrument.

Some improvements to the bill have been made, including the removal of those Henry 8th powers. However, they have been replaced with a sweeping amendment — bizarrely supported by the Opposition and opposed by the Government — to introduce a system of website take-down and blocking for alleged infringements. This would effectively introduce the infrastructure for a Chinese-style system of censorship of the web, and is a potent and serious threat to our freedom of speech and human rights.

I now discover, via the Open Rights Group, that the entire amendment establishing this system was drafted by the British Phonographic Industry and tabled, unaltered, for consideration by the Lords.

I recognise that the drafting of amendments by third parties is routine, but this surely exceeds what is reasonable: in my experience, amendments drafted by lobby groups are generally probing, and if passed, rarely become part of the bill in their original form.

We now find ourselves opposing a bill drafted in considerable part by the record industry for their gain and to our detriment.

I ask that you raise this concern with the Secretary of State for Business, Innovation and Skills and ask him to respond, and to rigorously oppose this bill when it enters the Commons in the coming weeks.

Yours sincerely,

Harry Metcalfe

HAML is fantastic. If you’re writing Rails apps, you should be using it. We’re working on making something similar for PHP.

So, today, I was surprised to see clever people knocking it. I asked what was going on and Markng said:

@harrym my largest objection is that it’s an abstraction over something that doesn’t need abstracting. (link)

@harrym maintainability involves people after you picking up code. People who don’t think learning another html syntax was necessary. (link)

@harrym good html is fine to read. Bad HTML not so much so. Maybe some are using HAML as a discipline mechanism. (link)

@harrym furthermore, the biggest reason for abstraction is when there is more than one output or source. Not the case with HAML. (link)

First of all: it’s not really an abstraction at all. I know that it calls itself one, but it isn’t, really. It’s just an alternative syntax. So let’s rename it to Html Alternative Markup Language and forget about that one!

You’re right that people’s unfamiliarity with HAML is a barrier to maintainability, but that’s true of any new technology. That it’s a barrier isn’t really the point: the more important question is whether it’s a barrier that’s worth breaking through. I say that it is. Once you have learned it (which is hardly difficult) it becomes much easier and quicker to write clean, readable, valid markup. Less stuff to write, less stuff to read, fewer lines than the HTML equivalent. Win.

As for using HAML as a discipline mechanism. That’s partially true. Then again, it’s true of compilers, too, and non-superuser accounts on *nix boxes, and typed languages, and object orientation. All of those are, among other things, discipline mechanisms. What’s bad about that?

If you can enforce discipline while also being easier, quicker and more elegant, haven’t you just made some better technology?

1. I had cancer
2. I had conventional treatment
3. Doctors said they’d done everything they could
4. I took a homeopathic remedy
5. I got better
6. Therefore, homeopathy works

You know what? Doctors are people too, and sometimes they’re wrong.

I mean, really.

It’s not perfect, though, and as usual, it’s the human element that’s problematic. It’s the responses to petitions that don’t hit the mark, and don’t give any opportunity for people to engage further. It’s the top-down, message-driven, one-way broadcasting at people, instead of the collaborative, mutually respectful conversation that we should be having with Government.

Having real, two-way conversations is hard. It requires time, patience, money, and a wholesale change in attitude — but Government say they’re up for it. Digital Engagement is the mantra du jour. And things are definitely moving in the right direction.

So — given this background of steady and positive change — why are Number 10 still stuck in the mud? Why do we get responses to petitions that range from the dishonest to the obtuse, and only the occasional gem, when it really should be the other way around?

And why, when someone makes an extremely sensible suggestion for a way to make this a bit better, does it get dismissed out of hand?

All who are currently procuring e-petition software should beware: it’ll be an expensive waste of time unless you use it to substantively engage with citizens.

The last thing the Web needs is another place for people to shout into a hole.

But I’ve been stymied. I have nothing substantial to add. The analysis is great — it says exactly the right things, and draws the right conclusions. It deserves serious consideration and I hope it’ll get it.

If you haven’t read it yet, do — and spread the word.

We are urged to be vigilant. But there’s no intelligence indicating an imminent attack. And nothing in particular that we’re supposed to do, or not do, depending on the terror alert level. I rather suspect that, if it ever goes back down to “substantial”, we will still be asked to be vigilant.

It’s almost like it’s… pointless?

Edited to add:

@glynwintle just sent me this:

Nails and heads spring to mind!

It began fairly predictably as critique of the privatisation of the Forensic Science Service, which led to the system we now have — where multiple companies bid for contracts to provide forensic services to the Police. The usual criticisms were trotted out: that markets are amoral, and that everything was rosy before the capitalists came along. But the program fairly swiftly moved on to more interesting and familiar territory: procurement.

It was the same sorry old story. Heavy-weight tendering processes. The granting of long contracts for huge sums. Contracts managed by staff with little specific expertise in forensics. Commoditisation of services where expert analysis is key to success. Bureaucratic intermediation between the staff who need things and the contractors who get things done. Sound familiar?

It seems that many of the problems that beset IT procurement affect forensics as well. I can’t say I’m surprised — the problems are, after all, endemic — but somehow it’s a lot scarier to hear these things said about forensic science.

I wonder how many people have been imprisoned as a result of barmy procurement rules?

It was a talk and Q&A with Bruce Schneier, organised by the Open Rights Group and attended by over 100 fellow geeky people. Bruce spoke about the future of privacy, from the current prevalence of data in all forms to the future ubiquity of devices and technologies that could severely reduce the privacy of the individual.

I was familiar with a lot of the things that Bruce was talking about, so there were no major technological surprises or revelatory principles in the talk — but I was struck by how optimistic he was. He said that, though these technologies have serious potential to cause harm, he was confident that lawmakers would get things right within a generation or two.

Central to the talk was the idea that privacy vs security is a false dichotomy, that the real struggle is liberty vs control, and that that’s a problem only good lawmaking will solve.

Among the highlights:

“Data is the industrial pollution of the information age”

“The real dichotomy is liberty vs control, not security vs privacy. Real security is liberty plus privacy”

“I see this era as heralding the death of the ephemeral conversation”

And on the idea that security inevitably erodes privacy — and that the underlying assumption that all security is information security:

“I don’t want to know who the guy sat behind me is, I want to know if he’s going to blow up the plane — if so, I still don’t care who he is”

Which, assuming you’re the airline operator, is very much the case.

Unfortunately, the article didn’t make it into the magazine because there wasn’t enough space. Disappointing, but it was still great to be asked, and they’ve published it online. From the article:

Many of us have been campaigning for open government data for a long time, and I think we’ve won the argument. By the time you’re reading this, data.hmg.gov.uk – a central listings service for government data – should be live. But data taken alone rarely creates real, tangible change in the world. Data alone doesn’t get your rubbish recycled or your prescription filled. You need data to find out how or where to do those things, but actually doing them requires you to use public services – and wherever there’s a public service, there’s an IT system supporting it.

Read the rest at Wired.co.uk.

Wondering what on earth it could possibly mean, I tweeted for some ideas:

Delightful graph fail from gov IT strat. What, I wonder, is 90% sophistication!?

And, well — people had some excellent ideas:

90% of Brits wear smoking jackets while they browse the web. Exmosis

It’s when your little finger sticks out while typing LilianBarton

Whatever it was, it seems to have stopped in 2007, so maybe we can relax. Or assume we must now be at at least 106.74%. pubstrat

Doesn’t matter – we’re kicking Europe’s ass by a whole 14%!! Yay us!! simond

All my answers are just too smutty to tweet paul_clarke

Got a good one? Add it in the comments…

The mind boggles. I think Henry Porter summed it up nicely:

“This is a fundamental breach of rights, but almost as serious is the offence to common sense”

Who are the people who make this kind of decision, and why are they so paranoid? Wouldn’t it be better if people with these responsibilities assessed the risks that we all face reasonably and rationally?

This kind of petty officiousness deserves no mercy. Mass civil disobedience is called for. I hope that these adventure playgrounds are inundated with an unstoppable horde of parents and grandparents, bearing picnics, toys, and healthy bullshit detectors.

Someone’s got to make sure the kids know that we’re really screwing these things up.