OCLC Question for the masses

Steve’s post made me realize that it’s been a little while since I’ve seen new comments about the OCLC terms of service change. Paging through my collected list of links, I’m seeing a lot of non-OCLC people complaining about it, and some OCLC people defending it. But I’m curious, has anyone seen a post by a non-OCLC employee that agrees with the OCLC view-point? If so, please leave a link in the comments below so that I can round out my link collection. Thanks!

Facebook’s Devilish Contract

News of changes to Facebook’s Terms of Service hit FriendFeed yesterday and sparked several debates amongst the relatively small set of librarians I follow. Facebook has always claimed ownership of everything you post there, but now there are two new lines that have caused the buzz:

You may remove your User Content from the Site at any time. If you choose to remove your User Content, the license granted above will automatically expire, however you acknowledge that the Company may retain archived copies of your User Content.

And:

The following sections will survive any termination of your use of the Facebook Service: Prohibited Conduct, User Content, Your Privacy Practices, Gift Credits, Ownership; Proprietary Rights, Licenses, Submissions, User Disputes; Complaints, Indemnity, General Disclaimers, Limitation on Liability, Termination and Changes to the Facebook Service, Arbitration, Governing Law; Venue and Jurisdiction and Other.

In other words, they own everything, forever, even if you delete your account.

The reactions to these changes tended to fall into one of four categories:

  • I’m deleting everything today!
  • It’s not so bad if you’re using Facebook in the way it intends you to use it.
  • Privacy is Dead, get over it.
  • If you don’t like it, don’t use Facebook.

I don’t know what reaction I was hoping for, but these weren’t it. Here’s why:

  • Deleting everything today won’t solve anything. They’re caching this stuff, remember, and they’ve already laid claim to the cache.
  • Telling me that some categories of content are wrong to post because I’m not using Facebook for the kinds of things it was made for also seems a little facile. Social networking sites really can’t dictate the sort of social networking that happens on them. That’s defined by each individual network. Part of what has always made Facebook complicated is that any individual person might be using their profiles for personal and professional purposes simultaneously. (They may not do this well, but there’s no good way to prohibit one or the other of these uses.)
  • And privacy may be dead, but that doesn’t mean that we should throw our content willy-nilly into the hands of people who want to use it for commercial purposes if we can help it. There should be an opt-out option.
  • And while it’s usually a perfectly fine response to say “if you don’t like the contract, don’t sign it,” this response isn’t actually very helpful in this case. First of all, it’s too big of a network right now, and is often the only way of staying in contact with whole groups of your acquaintances. Goodness knows I’ve tried to leave several times (it’s just too complicated, too big, and too much for me), but I then realized that this would be tantamount to putting myself into a social time out chair. Unfortunately, we’ve been put in a position where protest might hurt the individual more than the institution. Also, it’s too late to protest if you already have a profile. They already own your stuff.

So what would be a good response? Well, I’m not exactly sure (boy was I hoping somebody could have articulated it for me!). Living online is a constant process of figuring out which pieces of yourself you’re willing to leave for others to use, though, so we always have to be aware of what we’re giving up and then use that knowledge to help us decide what to share in any given space. So in the case of Facebook, I’m willing to give them my status updates, wall posts, profile pictures, and the contact info that is already findable elsewhere online. And that’s about it. I’ve stopped feeding this blog into my profile there because I’d prefer they don’t have this content from now on.

This rather pragmatic response doesn’t diminish my righteous indignation toward Facebook, though. I’d love it if they got their tyrannical Terms fed to them in a goopy mash by a horde of gleeful lawyers. And I’m unwilling to say we should just get over it and move on. I guess what I am saying is that this is a perfect reminder for me that I am always giving up pieces of myself to The Internet, and that I should step back and think for a minute about what I’m doing on Facebook, why I’m doing it, and how many pieces of myself I’m willing to pay for the privilege of staying out of the social time out chair.

[Update 2/18: Facebook has heard the hue and cry and has reverted to its old TOS. I wonder what the new version will look like once they've taken all the comments in. Also, I found this fascinating comparison between the draconian TOS and those of other social sites.]

Preserving the Zeitgeist

The internet is a weird place. It seems like nothing that you’d prefer to forget ever dies while whole chunks of your life can disappear into the cloud with very little warning. People worry about preserving all the digital ephemera that we produce, or about deciding which categories of ephemera are worthy of these efforts. And while actually losing content is the stuff of librarianish nightmares, it seems to me that there’s another aspect of internet life that we are continually losing without even realizing that we had it, and that’s the thread public conversation that holds all the individual streams of blog posts and news feeds together.

In other words, even though my blog and my friends’ blogs haven’t disappeared off the face of the internet, it would take a lot of work to recreate the moment in time in which any given post was written and see the broader environment of posts and discussions that make up any given posts’ context. Even this post is part of a conversational environment that includes the post I linked to above (and the posts to which it links), one other blog post that I can’t find any more, a couple of conversations on FriendFeed, the simple fact that an issue of Walt Crawford’s Cites & Insights came out recently, Greg Schwartz’s weekly requests for “newsworthy” content to talk about on Uncontrolled Vocabulary, and an IM conversation with Steve Lawson. That’s a lot of conversational context, each piece of which will be preserved in its own space (each blog’s archives, the Cites & Insights archives, the Uncontrolled Vocabulary audio, blog, and wiki archives, FriendFeed, and chat logs). But the moment that brought them all together, that asynchronous conversation, that zeitgeist, will probably melt into the cloud and render each piece of the conversation less rich for those coming back to them later. In fact, this post’s context is already melting since there’s one piece of if that I can no longer remember well enough to find.

There are a few vehicles that I know of that preserve these conversational contexts to varying degrees. Cites & Insights is one of them (and the one that I think defines the genre I’m imagining), Uncontrolled Vocabulary is another, This Week In LibraryBlogLand will be a third if it ever resurrects, and the now-defunct Carnival of the InfoSciences was often a fourth. Each of these gathers together the posts of others and strings them into some sort of narrative about contemporary issues in librarianship. But each also has its weakness as a Preserver of Zeitgeist. Cites & Insights preserves the issues that interested Walt, for example, and Uncontrolled Vocabulary preserves issues that Greg deems newsworthy. These foci are necessary and by no means a fault, but it leaves me wishing that more people had the time, energy, inclination, and ability to take on the task of this kind of preservation so that more pieces of the intenet conversation would get named, recorded, and preserved.

Strolling Across Campus

Tonight was the second meeting of a faculty/staff book group that’s reading the Odyssey together. We sit in the well appointed living room of a campus-owned guest house, sip wine, eat hors d’oeuvres, and discuss this book with the added benefit that the man leading the book group is a classicist. It’s pretty much an ideal way to spend one evening every couple of weeks.

With my head full of heroic happenings and the memories of good conversation, I walked back across campus to the library. In one lighted window there were two students stooping close to a microscope. In another lighted window, someone bent over a piano’s keyboard and sent peeling scales out into the night. In the middle of campus, laughing students played hockey on the ice rink while their friends cheered them on. A student stopped me to see if I had time to meet with her tomorrow.

And I realized that my schooling from infancy onward has primed me to love this atmosphere of communal learning and exploration. I love being among people who think it’s normal to probe deeply, value probable and improbable connections equally as long as the reasoning behind them is clear, and start conversations with “So, that reading we had yesterday. Do you think…”

I realize that this isn’t the only way to live. I realize that for some it’s irrelevant to the point of laughability. But this is where I feel at home. Here, in this kind of environment, and among people like this, my own interests and questions and quirks and day dreams come alive. This is where I belong.

The Obama Drama that Interests Me The Most

I have no idea how to fix the current economic crisis, create peace in the Middle East, or make sure everyone gets health insurance. I listen to the news pretty passively, hoping that the Powers That Be make good decisions on my behalf, since there’s no way I’d be able to make these decisions with any confidence of success. So while events of great magnitude wash over me day in and day out, what sticks? What do I go back to at the end of the day and ask Google for updates that I may have missed? Obama’s Blackberry.

It had never occurred to me that he wouldn’t be able to use one while off being president. It seemed like the perfect accessory to a presidential suit. Who knew that it would have such security ramifications? Who knew that it would spark debate about the kinds of filtered information top leaders get, and what this will mean for historians of the future? Fascinating!!

As long as he doesn’t do what one rather thoughtless congressman did, I’m thrilled that he’s got a new spy-proof Blackberry (or, as I like to think about it, the First Crackberry).