My mouse activity for today, graphically realised. Lines show mouse tracking paths, and dots show pauses. The larger the dot, the longer the pause.
Over the past few days, I’ve become increasingly upset with things which I’ve seen on the internet, and particularly on Facebook. I very much dislike some of the ways in which I perceive some people to be acting, or representing themselves online.
Reflecting on this, however, brought me to consider my own impact. Whilst I try very hard (and often succeed) at being measured, considerate and thought-out in my writing online, I am often absolutely not. This, I believe, is almost entirely (if not completely) in tweets: 140 characters of expression, which rarely allows for a balanced approach to issues.
In Facebook comments, my longer articles on issues which interest me, blog posts such as I have begun writing here, and even simply my more discursive uses of twitter, I believe I can be successful in reaching these aims of moderation and balance. Far more reasonable than I sometimes let myself be on twitter, at least.
As much as I might still believe in the point, then, I will aim from today to stop posting reactionary, inflammatory tweets about things which make me angry. Instead? Maybe I’ll take notes for a calmer, more thought out blog post or article later.
My friend Grace once said that I sometimes fail in allowing my anger to ‘dwarf my opinions’, and I think that puts it perfectly. I do believe that I can be successful in giving an impact - both to those who know me well, and strangers who may come to know me through online media - of myself which is very positive. I think I’ve done this several times, and I place great value in the relationships I’ve formed and new people I’ve managed to meet through twitter. I’m finally taking the lesson that this positive point can so easily be damaged by explosive attacks, compressed and concentrated into a tiny 140 characters.
There’s also another reason to try and change this about myself: anger is easy. Being angry, and more importantly; being critical, is effortless. That’s why so many inches of opinion columns by regular writers are filled simply with complaints. I don’t wish to dismiss these types of article, but what I do want to do is encourage myself to be thoughful and interesting, rather than merely angry and emptily provocative.
I honestly do not know or understand why people would ever say “fuck the police”. I don’t pretend that my ignorance of this fact alone means that people who say this are ‘wrong’, nor that everyone ought to adopt my personal view of the [British] police.
Personally? I have a great deal of respect for the police, and I think that they are all too often limited in what they are able to do in certain situations.
If I was trying to empathise? I suppose I could posit two theories.
1) The police are seen as nothing more than a force to disrupt their fun, by enforcing laws on marijuana, drinking, or - because this can be what is considered ‘fun’ - other far more serious situations.
2) These people feel unfairly targetted by the police. Perhaps I like the police because it’s very easy for me to. Perhaps some of these people actually are unfairly included in groups of those who are fairly treated to an increased level of attention from the police. Although, to be fair, this is almost certainly a necessary inconvenience, rather than a significant problem.
You don’t even mean it
However - whether or not I agree or can even properly empathise with an anti-police stance - I fundamentally object to anybody shouting, writing or even casually saying “fuck the police”. For many reasons.
One of the most basic and significant, however, is that I simply don’t believe that anybody who says it truly believes in it. On a macro scale, I can’t imagine that anybody honestly believes that the police (or a police-like presence, from a principle point of view) to be useless, or not worth having in a civilised nation. But we needn’t even enter into a complex political discussion about these issues.
Why? Because if these people’s mother’s house was burgled, or their father was attacked, what would they do? Unless I significantly misunderstand this situation: they’d call the police.
Like many other people living outside of the United States who have been hoping to get their hands on an iPad, I was disappointed when Apple quietly changed their UK website to reflect a month’s delay (and issued this press release) to the iPad’s international launch.
The obvious question, which Scoble tackled here, is; how did Apple get their estimates so wrong? They had sold over 500,000 units when the announcement came, and Apple stores across America were sold out. Even then, we’re only talking about the WiFi model: the 3G model wasn’t, and currently still isn’t, available anywhere.
So, thanks to this huge US demand, the international launch was postponed by a month. To me, and many others, the obvious fact was that we weren’t getting our iPads so that American customers could stay happy. We felt undervalued: second class citizens in the eyes of Apple. This email to Steve Jobs - with his characteristic reply - makes this exact point.
But it also made me change my mind completely.
Given that Apple got their initial estimates on a US launch so wrong, it’s imperative that they make sure that the international launch is done properly. I’d rather have a delayed launch in the UK if it means that it goes smoothly.
The situation that clearly shouldn’t be allowed to arise is one in which US Apple stores are out of stock, and European Apple stores experience a launch in which they very quickly become unable to satisfy demand - especially with 3G models just around the corner.
Yes, it’s unfortunate that the estimates being so far off have led to this situation, but I’d rather that American stores get their stocks back up now. Then when the iPad launches in Europe, with the lesson of American sales behind them, Apple should be able to ensure that everyone - from the wannabe queuers, to the casually interested customer - can have their iPad when they want it.
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