P&I Special Issue 2023 Call for Paper – Datafication. Platformisation. Metaverse. Global Internet Policy or a Fractured Communication Future?

Datafication. Platformisation. Metaverse. Global Internet Policy or a Fractured Communication Future?

Special Issue Call for Papers, Volume 15, Issue 4

Datafication. Platformization. Metaverse. What is the state of global internet policy? Within our current online and hyper-connected lives, is it possible to have such a thing as global internet policy? Building off the 2022 Policy & Internet Conference, this special issue addresses the complex and multiple perspectives of internet policy from around the globe.

As we evolve through the Anthropocene and attempt to navigate the significant challenges humanity currently faces, we are consistently reminded of the most pressing critical issues of our epoch. Economic systems are the point of breaking, industrial action mobilised by unions is at an all-time high, inflation is rising, workers’ pay continues to fall, and the stability of our political systems has come into question. Our health systems are under unfathomable stress, refugee numbers are increasing through displacement, and the war in Ukraine continues, all of which adds to the growing global societal, economic and political pressures. And yet, concurrently, our connectivity through digital media and its surrounding environments is at an all-time high, arguably from the rise of technology players providing suites of social media platforms and its supporting infrastructures that enable a seamless and convenient, always-on lifestyle. The same app that enables us to chat with our friends and family can also book our rideshares, order our food, pay for our purchases and tempt us to become internet celebrities. What was once framed as user generated content activity has now become a normalised cultural pastime, as TikTok influencers feed the demotic turn that sees ordinary folk become internet superstars in rather small timeframes.

At the same time, policymakers are reforming legislation to address the incomprehensible imbalance of power that is generated by technology giants. One of the immediate issues concerning users is their online privacy. In many instances, governments continue to struggle with bringing large-scale social media platforms to account, and seeking mutually beneficial outcomes. TikTok especially has raised concerns with user privacy as many cybersecurity agencies who advise governments have no clear answers on how to maintain its use while not knowing what will happen to user data. Alongside user data issues, in some countries the relationship between technology providers and governments is blurred, where regulation is becoming a weaponized approach to citizen control. To counter these sorts of power imbalances, advocacy groups are consistently calling for safe, inclusive, affordable and reliable internet connectivity, as the digital divide continues to increase. The urgency for healthy online civic spaces has been highlighted as a key focus for advocacy groups, while ensuring the safety of its users has also been highlighted.

This special issue asks for responses to these contemporary issues and seeks to understand if a global internet policy is possible. How might we incorporate co-design, open dialogues, increased governance, interoperability and user-centred discussions into policy discussions? What are the immediate issues for policymakers?

We welcome research that addresses the following areas of interest (but not limited to):

Takedowns, shadowbanning, throttling
Non-western approaches towards internet policy
Internet governance and infrastructures
Content moderation
Regulatory responses that address the growing digital divide
Communication and technology for positive economic development
Building strong communication systems during times of high societal pressure
Social media and labour concerns
Emerging digital communication for marginalised groups and individuals
Digital communication that bridges regional legislation
Communication and technology through comparative media systems
Regulation for diversity across media systems
Media automation for the next 10 years and beyond
Young people and social media
Innovative empirical examples of positive digital communication and/or technology development

Please send through your title and 150-200 word abstract to Jonathon Hutchinson [jonathon.hutchinson@sydney.edu.au] and Milly Stilinovic [milica.stilinovic@sydney.edu.au] with the subject line: Policy & Internet Special Issue by October 31 2022.

Timeline

October 31 – Abstracts due

November 18 – Notification of Accepted Papers

January 31 (2023) – Full Papers Due

March 31 (2023) – Final Revisions Due

Photo by Risto Kokkonen on Unsplash

Brexit, voting, and political turbulence

Cross-posted from the Princeton University Press blog. The authors of Political Turbulence discuss how the explosive rise, non-normal distribution and lack of organization that characterizes contemporary politics as a chaotic system, can explain why many political mobilizations of our times seem to come from nowhere.

On 23rd June 2016, a majority of the British public voted in a referendum on whether to leave the European Union. The Leave or so-called #Brexit option was victorious, with a margin of 52% to 48% across the country, although Scotland, Northern Ireland, London and some towns voted to remain. The result was a shock to both leave and remain supporters alike. US readers might note that when the polls closed, the odds on futures markets of Brexit (15%) were longer than those of Trump being elected President.

Political scientists are reeling with the sheer volume of politics that has been packed into the month after the result. From the Prime Minister’s morning-after resignation on 24th June the country was mired in political chaos, with almost every political institution challenged and under question in the aftermath of the vote, including both Conservative and Labour parties and the existence of the United Kingdom itself, given Scotland’s resistance to leaving the EU. The eventual formation of a government under a new prime minister, Teresa May, has brought some stability. But she was not elected and her government has a tiny majority of only 12 Members of Parliament. A cartoon by Matt in the Telegraph on July 2nd (which would work for almost any day) showed two students, one of them saying ‘I’m studying politics. The course covers the period from 8am on Thursday to lunchtime on Friday.’

All these events – the campaigns to remain or leave, the post-referendum turmoil, resignations, sackings and appointments – were played out on social media; the speed of change and the unpredictability of events being far too great for conventional media to keep pace. So our book, Political Turbulence: How Social Media Shape Collective Action, can provide a way to think about the past weeks. The book focuses on how social media allow new, ‘tiny acts’ of political participation (liking, tweeting, viewing, following, signing petitions and so on), which turn social movement theory around. Rather than identifying with issues, forming collective identity and then acting to support the interests of that identity – or voting for a political party that supports it – in a social media world, people act first, and think about it, or identify with others later – if at all.

These tiny acts of participation can scale up to large-scale mobilizations, such as demonstrations, protests or petitions for policy change. These mobilizations normally fail – 99.9% of petitions to the UK or US governments fail to get the 100,000 signatures required for a parliamentary debate (UK) or an official response (US). The very few that succeed usually do so very quickly on a massive scale, but without the normal organizational or institutional trappings of a social or political movement, such as leaders or political parties. When Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff asked to speak to the leaders of the mass demonstrations against the government in 2014 organised entirely on social media with an explicit rejection of party politics, she was told ‘there are no leaders’.

This explosive rise, non-normal distribution and lack of organization that characterizes contemporary politics as a chaotic system, can explain why many political mobilizations of our times seem to come from nowhere. In the US and the UK it can help to understand the shock waves of support that brought Bernie Sanders, Donald Trump, Jeremy Corbyn (elected leader of the Labour party in 2015) and Brexit itself, all of which have challenged so strongly traditional political institutions. In both countries, the two largest political parties are creaking to breaking point in their efforts to accommodate these phenomena.

The unpredicted support for Brexit by over half of voters in the UK referendum illustrates these characteristics of the movements we model in the book, with the resistance to traditional forms of organization. Voters were courted by political institutions from all sides – the government, all the political parties apart from UKIP, the Bank of England, international organizations, foreign governments, the US President himself and the ‘Remain’ or StrongerIn campaign convened by Conservative, Labour and the smaller parties. Virtually every authoritative source of information supported Remain. Yet people were resistant to aligning themselves with any of them. Experts, facts, leaders of any kind were all rejected by the rising swell of support for the Leave side. Famously, Michael Gove, one of the key leave campaigners said ‘we have had enough of experts’. According to YouGov polls, over 2/3 of Conservative voters in 2015 voted to Leave in 2016, as did over one third of Labour and Liberal Democrat voters.

Instead, people turned to a few key claims promulgated by the two Leave campaigns Vote Leave(with key Conservative Brexiteers such as Boris Johnson, Michael Gove and Liam Fox) and Leave.EU, dominated by UKIP and its leader Nigel Farage, bankrolled by the aptly named billionaire Arron Banks. This side dominated social media in driving home their simple (if largely untrue) claims and anti-establishment, anti-elitist message (although all were part of the upper echelons of both establishment and elite). Key memes included the claim (painted on the side of a bus) that the UK gave £350m a week to the EU which could instead be spent on the NHS; the likelihood that Turkey would soon join the EU; and an image showing floods of migrants entering the UK via Europe. Banks brought in staff from his own insurance companies and political campaign firms (such as Goddard Gunster) and Leave.EU created a massive database of leave supporters to employ targeted advertising on social media.

While Remain represented the status-quo and a known entity, Leave was flexible to sell itself as anything to anyone. Leave campaigners would often criticize the Government but then not offer specific policy alternatives stating, ‘we are a campaign not a government.’ This ability for people to coalesce around a movement for a variety of different (and sometimes conflicting) reasons is a hallmark of the social-media based campaigns that characterize Political Turbulence. Some voters and campaigners argued that voting Leave would allow the UK to be more global and accept more immigrants from non-EU countries. In contrast, racism and anti-immigration sentiment were key reasons for other voters. Desire for sovereignty and independence, responses to austerity and economic inequality and hostility to the elites in London and the South East have all figured in the torrent of post-Brexit analysis. These alternative faces of Leave were exploited to gain votes for ‘change,’ but the exact change sought by any two voters could be very different.

The movement‘s organization illustrates what we have observed in recent political turbulence – as in Brazil, Hong Kong and Egypt; a complete rejection of mainstream political parties and institutions and an absence of leaders in any conventional sense. There is little evidence that the leading lights of the Leave campaigns were seen as prospective leaders. There was no outcry from the Leave side when they seemed to melt away after the vote, no mourning over Michael Gove’s complete fall from grace when the government was formed – nor even joy at Boris Johnson’s appointment as Foreign Secretary. Rather, the Leave campaigns acted like advertising campaigns, driving their points home to all corners of the online and offline worlds but without a clear public face. After the result, it transpired that there was no plan, no policy proposals, no exit strategy proposed by either campaign. The Vote Leave campaign was seemingly paralyzed by shock after the vote (they tried to delete their whole site, now reluctantly and partially restored with the lie on the side of the bus toned down to £50 million), pickled forever after 23rd June. Meanwhile, Teresa May, a reluctant Remain supporter and an absent figure during the referendum itself, emerged as the only viable leader after the event, in the same way as (in a very different context) the Muslim Brotherhood, as the only viable organization, were able to assume power after the first Egyptian revolution.

In contrast, the Leave.Eu website remains highly active, possibly poised for the rebirth of UKIP as a radical populist far-right party on the European model, as Arron Banks has proposed. UKIP was formed around this single policy – of leaving the EU – and will struggle to find policy purpose, post-Brexit. A new party, with Banks’ huge resources and a massive database of Leave supporters and their social media affiliations, possibly disenchanted by the slow progress of Brexit, disaffected by the traditional parties – might be a political winner on the new landscape.

The act of voting in the referendum will define people’s political identity for the foreseeable future, shaping the way they vote in any forthcoming election. The entire political system is being redrawn around this single issue, and whichever organizational grouping can ride the wave will win. The one thing we can predict for our political future is that it will be unpredictable.

Brexit, voting, and political turbulence

Do Finland’s digitally crowdsourced laws show a way to resolve democracy’s “legitimacy crisis”?

There is much discussion about a perceived “legitimacy crisis” in democracy. In his article The Rise of the Mediating Citizen: Time, Space, and Citizenship in the Crowdsourcing of Finnish Legislation, Taneli Heikka (University of Jyväskylä) discusses the digitally crowdsourced law for same-sex marriage that was passed in Finland in 2014, analysing how the campaign used new digital tools and created practices that affect democratic citizenship and power making.

Ed: There is much discussion about a perceived “legitimacy crisis” in democracy. For example, less than half of the Finnish electorate under 40 choose to vote. In your article you argue that Finland’s 2012 Citizens’ Initiative Act aimed to address this problem by allowing for the crowdsourcing of ideas for new legislation. How common is this idea? (And indeed, how successful?)

Taneli: The idea that digital participation could counter the “legitimacy crisis” is a fairly common one. Digital utopians have nurtured that idea from the early years of the internet, and have often been disappointed. A couple of things stand out in the Finnish experiment that make it worth a closer look.

First, the digital crowdsourcing system with strong digital identification is a reliable and potentially viral campaigning tool. Most civic initiative systems I have encountered rely on manual or otherwise cumbersome, and less reliable, signature collection methods.

Second, in the Finnish model, initiatives that break the threshold of 50,000 names must be treated in the Parliament equally to an initiative from a group of MPs. This gives the initiative constitutional and political weight.

Ed: The Act led to the passage of Finland’s first equal marriage law in 2014. In this case, online platforms were created for collecting signatures as well as drafting legislation. An NGO created a well-used platform, but it subsequently had to shut it down because it couldn’t afford the electronic signature system. Crowds are great, but not a silver bullet if something as prosaic as authentication is impossible. Where should the balance lie between NGOs and centrally funded services, i.e. government?

Taneli: The crucial thing in the success of a civic initiative system is whether it gives the people real power. This question is decided by the legal framework and constitutional basis of the initiative system. So, governments have a very important role in this early stage – designing a law for truly effective citizen initiatives.

When a framework for power-making is in place, service providers will emerge. Should the providers be public, private or third sector entities? I think that is defined by local political culture and history.

In the United States, the civic technology field is heavily funded by philanthropic foundations. There is an urge to make these tools commercially viable, though no one seems to have figured out the business model. In Europe there’s less philanthropic money, and in my experience experiments are more often government funded.

Both models have their pros and cons, but I’d like to see the two continents learning more from each other. American digital civic activists tell me enviously that the radically empowering Finnish model with a government-run service for crowdsourcing for law would be impossible in the US. In Europe, civic technologists say they wish they had the big foundations that Americans have.

Ed: But realistically, how useful is the input of non-lawyers in (technical) legislation drafting? And is there a critical threshold of people necessary to draft legislation?

Taneli: I believe that input is valuable from anyone who cares to invest some time in learning an issue. That said, having lawyers in the campaign team really helps. Writing legislation is a special skill. It’s a pity that the co-creation features in Finland’s Open Ministry website were shut down due to a lack of funding. In that model, help from lawyers could have been made more accessible for all campaign teams.

In terms of numbers, I don’t think the size of the group is an issue either way. A small group of skilled and committed people can do a lot in the drafting phase.

Ed: But can the drafting process become rather burdensome for contributors, given professional legislators will likely heavily rework, or even scrap, the text?

Taneli: Professional legislators will most likely rework the draft, and that is exactly what they are supposed to do. Initiating an idea, working on a draft, and collecting support for it are just phases in a complex process that continues in the parliament after the threshold of 50,000 signatures is reached. A well-written draft will make the legislators’ job easier, but it won’t replace them.

Ed: Do you think there’s a danger that crowdsourcing legislation might just end up reflecting the societal concerns of the web-savvy – or of campaigning and lobbying groups

Taneli: That’s certainly a risk, but so far there is little evidence of it happening. The only initiative passed so far in Finland – the Equal Marriage Act – was supported by the majority of Finns and by the majority of political parties, too. The initiative system was used to bypass a political gridlock. The handful of initiatives that have reached the 50,000 signatures threshold and entered parliamentary proceedings represent a healthy variety of issues in the fields of education, crime and punishment, and health care. Most initiatives seem to echo the viewpoint of the ‘ordinary people’ instead of lobbies or traditional political and business interest groups.

Ed: You state in your article that the real-time nature of digital crowdsourcing appeals to a generation that likes and dislikes quickly; a generation that inhabits “the space of flows”. Is this a potential source of instability or chaos? And how can this rapid turnover of attention be harnessed efficiently so as to usefully contribute to a stable and democratic society?

Taneli: The Citizens’ Initiative Act in Finland is one fairly successful model to look at in terms of balancing stability and disruptive change. It is a radical law in its potential to empower the individual and affect real power-making. But it is by no means a shortcut to ‘legislation by a digital mob’, or anything of that sort. While the digital campaigning phase can be an explosive expression of the power of the people in the ‘time and space of flows’, the elected representatives retain the final say. Passing a law is still a tedious process, and often for good reasons.

Ed: You also write about the emergence of the “mediating citizen” – what do you mean by this?

Taneli: The starting point for developing the idea of the mediating citizen is Lance Bennett’s AC/DC theory, i.e. the dichotomy of the actualising and the dutiful citizen. The dutiful citizen is the traditional form of democratic citizenship – it values voting, following the mass media, and political parties. The actualising citizen, on the other hand, finds voting and parties less appealing, and prefers more flexible and individualised forms of political action, such as ad hoc campaigns and the use of interactive technology.

I find these models accurate but was not able to place in this duality the emerging typologies of civic action I observed in the Finnish case. What we see is understanding and respect for parliamentary institutions and their power, but also strong faith in one’s skills and capability to improve the system in creative, technologically savvy ways. I used the concept of the mediating citizen to describe an actor who is able to move between the previous typologies, mediating between them. In the Finnish example, creative tools were developed to feed initiatives in the traditional power-making system of the parliament.

Ed: Do you think Finland’s Citizens Initiative Act is a model for other governments to follow when addressing concerns about “democratic legitimacy”?

Taneli: It is an interesting model to look at. But unfortunately the ‘legitimacy crisis’ is probably too complex a problem to be solved by a single participation tool. What I’d really like to see is a wave of experimentation, both on-line and off-line, as well as cross-border learning from each other. And is that not what happened when the representative model spread, too?

Read the full article: Heikka, T., (2015) The Rise of the Mediating Citizen: Time, Space, and Citizenship in the Crowdsourcing of Finnish Legislation. Policy and Internet 7 (3) 268–291.

Taneli Heikka is a journalist, author, entrepreneur, and PhD student based in Washington.

Taneli Heikka was talking to Blog Editor Pamina Smith.

Don’t knock clickivism: it represents the political participation aspirations of the modern citizen

Following a furious public backlash in 2011, the UK government abandoned plans to sell off 258,000 hectares of state-owned woodland. The public forest campaign by 38 Degrees gathered over half a million signatures.

How do we define political participation? What does it mean to say an action is ‘political’? Is an action only ‘political’ if it takes place in the mainstream political arena; involving government, politicians or voting? Or is political participation something that we find in the most unassuming of places, in sports, home and work? This question, ‘what is politics’ is one that political scientists seem to have a lot of trouble dealing with, and with good reason. If we use an arena definition of politics, then we marginalise the politics of the everyday; the forms of participation and expression that develop between the cracks, through need and ingenuity. However, if we broaden our approach as so to adopt what is usually termed a process definition, then everything can become political. The problem here is that saying that everything is political is akin to saying nothing is political, and that doesn’t help anyone.

Over the years, this debate has plodded steadily along, with scholars on both ends of the spectrum fighting furiously to establish a working understanding. Then, the Internet came along and drew up new battle lines. The Internet is at its best when it provides a home for the disenfranchised, an environment where like-minded individuals can wipe free the dust of societal disassociation and connect and share content. However, the Internet brought with it a shift in power, particularly in how individuals conceptualised society and their role within it. The Internet, in addition to this role, provided a plethora of new and customisable modes of political participation. From the onset, a lot of these new forms of engagement were extensions of existing forms, broadening the everyday citizen’s participatory repertoire. There was a move from voting to e-voting, petitions to e-petitions, face-to-face communities to online communities; the Internet took what was already there and streamlined it, removing those pesky elements of time, space and identity.

Yet, as the Internet continues to develop, and we move into the ultra-heightened communicative landscape of the social web, new and unique forms of political participation take root, drawing upon those customisable environments and organic cyber migrations. The most prominent of these is clicktivism, sometimes also, unfairly, referred to as slacktivism. Clicktivism takes the fundamental features of browsing culture and turns them into a means of political expression. Quite simply, clicktivism refers to the simplification of online participatory processes: one-click online petitions, content sharing, social buttons (e.g. Facebook’s ‘Like’ button) etc.

For the most part, clicktivism is seen in derogatory terms, with the idea that the streamlining of online processes has created a societal disposition towards feel-good, ‘easy’ activism. From this perspective, clicktivism is a lazy or overly-convenient alternative to the effort and legitimacy of traditional engagement. Here, individuals engaging in clicktivism may derive some sense of moral gratification from their actions, but clicktivism’s capacity to incite genuine political change is severely limited. Some would go so far as to say that clicktivism has a negative impact on democratic systems, as it undermines an individual’s desire and need to participate in traditional forms of engagement; those established modes which mainstream political scholars understand as the backbone of a healthy, functioning democracy.

This idea that clicktivism isn’t ‘legitimate’ activism is fuelled by a general lack of understanding about what clicktivism actually involves. As a recent development in observed political action, clicktivism has received its fair share of attention in the political participation literature. However, for the most part, this literature has done a poor job of actually defining clicktivism. As such, clicktivism is not so much a contested notion, as an ill-defined one. The extant work continues to describe clicktivism in broad terms, failing to effectively establish what it does, and does not, involve. Indeed, as highlighted, the mainstream political participation literature saw clicktivism not as a specific form of online action, but rather as a limited and unimportant mode of online engagement.

However, to disregard emerging forms of engagement such as clicktivism because they are at odds with long-held notions of what constitutes meaningful ‘political’ engagement is a misguided and dangerous road to travel. Here, it is important that we acknowledge that a political act, even if it requires limited effort, has relevance for the individual, and, as such, carries worth. And this is where we see clicktivism challenging these traditional notions of political participation. To date, we have looked at clicktivism through an outdated lens; an approach rooted in traditional notions of democracy. However, the Internet has fundamentally changed how people understand politics, and, consequently, it is forcing us to broaden our understanding of the ‘political’, and of what constitutes political participation.

The Internet, in no small part, has created a more reflexive political citizen, one who has been given the tools to express dissatisfaction throughout all facets of their life, not just those tied to the political arena. Collective action underpinned by a developed ideology has been replaced by project orientated identities and connective action. Here, an individual’s desire to engage does not derive from the collective action frames of political parties, but rather from the individual’s self-evaluation of a project’s worth and their personal action frames.

Simply put, people now pick and choose what projects they participate in and feel little generalized commitment to continued involvement. And it is clicktivism which is leading the vanguard here. Clicktivism, as an impulsive, non-committed online political gesture, which can be easily replicated and that does not require any specialized knowledge, is shaped by, and reinforces, this change. It affords the project-oriented individual an efficient means of political participation, without the hassles involved with traditional engagement.

This is not to say, however, that clicktivism serves the same functions as traditional forms. Indeed, much more work is needed to understand the impact and effect that clicktivist techniques can have on social movements and political issues. However, and this is the most important point, clicktivism is forcing us to reconsider what we define as political participation. It does not overtly engage with the political arena, but provides avenues through which to do so. It does not incite genuine political change, but it makes people feel as if they are contributing. It does not politicize issues, but it fuels discursive practices. It may not function in the same way as traditional forms of engagement, but it represents the political participation aspirations of the modern citizen. Clicktivism has been bridging the dualism between the traditional and contemporary forms of political participation, and in its place establishing a participatory duality.

Clicktivism, and similar contemporary forms of engagement, are challenging how we understand political participation, and to ignore them because of what they don’t embody, rather than what they do, is to move forward with eyes closed.

Read the full article: Halupka, M. (2014) Clicktivism: A Systematic Heuristic. Policy and Internet 6 (2) 115-132.

Max Halupka is a PhD candidate at the ANZOG Institute for Governance, University of Canberra. His research interests include youth political participation, e-activism, online engagement, hacktivism, and fluid participatory structures.

Finnish decision to allow same-sex marriage “shows the power of citizen initiatives”

November rainbows in front of the Finnish parliament house in Helsinki, one hour before the vote for same-sex marriage. Photo by Anne Sairio. — November rainbows in front of the Finnish parliament house in Helsinki, one hour before the vote for same-sex marriage. Photo by Anni Sairio.

In a pivotal vote today, the Finnish parliament voted in favour of removing references to gender in the country’s marriage law, which will make it possible for same-sex couples to get married. It was predicted to be an extremely close vote, but in the end gender neutrality won with 105 votes to 92. Same-sex couples have been able to enter into registered partnerships in Finland since 2002, but this form of union lacks some of the legal and more notably symbolic privileges of marriage. Today’s decision is thus a historic milestone in the progress towards tolerance and equality before the law for all the people of Finland.

Today’s parliamentary decision is also a milestone for another reason: it is the first piece of “crowdsourced” legislation on its way to becoming law in Finland. A 2012 constitutional change made it possible for 50,000 citizens or more to propose a bill to the parliament, through a mechanism known as the citizen initiative. Citizens can develop bills on a website maintained by the Open Ministry, a government-supported citizen association. The Open Ministry aims to be the deliberative version of government ministries that do the background work for government bills. Once the text of a citizen bill is finalised, citizens can also endorse it on a website maintained by the Ministry of Justice. If a bill attracts more than 50,000 endorsements within six months, it is delivered to the parliament.

A significant reason behind the creation of the citien initiative system was to increase citizen involvement in decision making and thus enhance the legitimacy of Finland’s political system: to make people feel that they can make a difference. Finland, like most Western democracies, is suffering from dwindling voter turnout rates (though in the last parliamentary elections, domestic voter turnout was a healthy 70.5 percent). However, here lies one of the potential pitfalls of the citizen initiative system. Of the six citizen bills delivered to the parliament so far, parliamentarians have outright rejected most proposals. According to research presented by Christensen and his colleagues at our Internet, Politics & Policy conference in Oxford in September (and to be published in issue 7:1 of Policy and Internet, March 2015), there is a risk that the citizen iniative system ends up having an effect that is opposite from what was intended:

“[T]hose who supported [a crowdsourced bill rejected by the parliament] experienced a drop in political trust as a result of not achieving this outcome. This shows that political legitimacy may well decline when participants do not get the intended result (cf. Budge, 2012). Hence, if crowdsourcing legislation in Finland is to have a positive impact on political legitimacy, it is important that it can help produce popular Citizens’ initiatives that are subsequently adopted by Parliament.”

One reason why citizen initiatives have faced a rough time in the parliament is that they are a somewhat odd addition to the parliament’s existing ways of working. The Finnish parliament, like most parliaments in representative democracies, is used to working in a government-opposition arrangement, where the government proposes bills, and parliamentarians belonging to government parties are expected to support those bills and resist bills originating from the opposition. Conversely, opposition leaders expect their members to be loyal to their own initiatives. In this arrangement, citizen initiatives have fallen into a no-man’s land where they are endorsed by neither government nor opposition members. Thanks to the party whip system, their only hope of passing has been in being adopted by the government. But the whole point of citizen initiatives is that they would allow bills not proposed by the government to reach parliament, making the exercise rather pointless.

The marriage equality citizen initiative was able to break this pattern not only because it enjoyed immense popular support, but also because many parliamentarians saw marriage equality as a matter of conscience, where the party whip system wouldn’t apply. Parliamentarians across party lines voted in support and against the initiative, in many cases ignoring their party leaders’ instructions.

Prime Minister Alexander Stubb commented immediately after the vote that the outcome “shows the power of citizen initiatives”, “citizen democracy and direct democracy”. Now that a precedent has been set, it is possible that subsequent citizen initiatives, too, get judged more on their merits than on who proposed them. Today’s decision on marriage equality may thus turn out to be historic not only for advancing equality and fairness, but also for helping to define crowdsourcing’s role in Finnish parliamentary decision making.

Vili Lehdonvirta is a Research Fellow and DPhil Programme Director at the Oxford Internet Institute, and an editor of the Policy & Internet journal. He is an economic sociologist who studies the social and economic dimensions of new information technologies around the world, with particular expertise in digital markets and crowdsourcing.

Past and Emerging Themes in Policy and Internet Studies

Caption — We can’t understand, analyze or make public policy without understanding the technological, social and economic shifts associated with the Internet. Image from the (post-PRISM) “Stop Watching Us” Berlin Demonstration (2013) by mw238.

In the journal’s inaugural issue, founding Editor-in-Chief Helen Margetts outlined what are essentially two central premises behind Policy & Internet’s launch. The first is that “we cannot understand, analyze or make public policy without understanding the technological, social and economic shifts associated with the Internet” (Margetts 2009, 1). It is simply not possible to consider public policy today without some regard for the intertwining of information technologies with everyday life and society. The second premise is that the rise of the Internet is associated with shifts in how policy itself is made. In particular, she proposed that impacts of Internet adoption would be felt in the tools through which policies are effected, and the values that policy processes embody.

The purpose of the Policy and Internet journal was to take up these two challenges: the public policy implications of Internet-related social change, and Internet-related changes in policy processes themselves. In recognition of the inherently multi-disciplinary nature of policy research, the journal is designed to act as a meeting place for all kinds of disciplinary and methodological approaches. Helen predicted that methodological approaches based on large-scale transactional data, network analysis, and experimentation would turn out to be particularly important for policy and Internet studies. Driving the advancement of these methods was therefore the journal’s third purpose. Today, the journal has reached a significant milestone: over one hundred high-quality peer-reviewed articles published. This seems an opportune moment to take stock of what kind of research we have published in practice, and see how it stacks up against the original vision.

At the most general level, the journal’s articles fall into three broad categories: the Internet and public policy (48 articles), the Internet and policy processes (51 articles), and discussion of novel methodologies (10 articles). The first of these categories, “the Internet and public policy,” can be further broken down into a number of subcategories. One of the most prominent of these streams is fundamental rights in a mediated society (11 articles), which focuses particularly on privacy and freedom of expression. Related streams are children and child protection (six articles), copyright and piracy (five articles), and general e-commerce regulation (six articles), including taxation. A recently emerged stream in the journal is hate speech and cybersecurity (four articles). Of course, an enduring research stream is Internet governance, or the regulation of technical infrastructures and economic institutions that constitute the material basis of the Internet (seven articles). In recent years, the research agenda in this stream has been influenced by national policy debates around broadband market competition and network neutrality (Hahn and Singer 2013). Another enduring stream deals with the Internet and public health (eight articles).

Looking specifically at “the Internet and policy processes” category, the largest stream is e-participation, or the role of the Internet in engaging citizens in national and local government policy processes, through methods such as online deliberation, petition platforms, and voting advice applications (18 articles). Two other streams are e-government, or the use of Internet technologies for government service provision (seven articles), and e-politics, or the use of the Internet in mainstream politics, such as election campaigning and communications of the political elite (nine articles). Another stream that has gained pace during recent years, is online collective action, or the role of the Internet in activism, ‘clicktivism,’ and protest campaigns (16 articles). Last year the journal published a special issue on online collective action (Calderaro and Kavada 2013), and the next forthcoming issue includes an invited article on digital civics by Ethan Zuckerman, director of MIT’s Center for Civic Media, with commentary from prominent scholars of Internet activism. A trajectory discernible in this stream over the years is a movement from discussing mere potentials towards analyzing real impacts—including critical analyses of the sometimes inflated expectations and “democracy bubbles” created by digital media (Shulman 2009; Karpf 2012; Bryer 2012).

The final category, discussion of novel methodologies, consists of articles that develop, analyze, and reflect critically on methodological innovations in policy and Internet studies. Empirical articles published in the journal have made use of a wide range of conventional and novel research methods, from interviews and surveys to automated content analysis and advanced network analysis methods. But of those articles where methodology is the topic rather than merely the tool, the majority deal with so-called “big data,” or the use of large-scale transactional data sources in research, commerce, and evidence-based public policy (nine articles). The journal recently devoted a special issue to the potentials and pitfalls of big data for public policy (Margetts and Sutcliffe 2013), based on selected contributions to the journal’s 2012 big data conference: Big Data, Big Challenges? In general, the notion of data science and public policy is a growing research theme.

This brief analysis suggests that research published in the journal over the last five years has indeed followed the broad contours of the original vision. The two challenges, namely policy implications of Internet-related social change and Internet-related changes in policy processes, have both been addressed. In particular, research has addressed the implications of the Internet’s increasing role in social and political life. The journal has also furthered the development of new methodologies, especially the use of online network analysis techniques and large-scale transactional data sources (aka ‘big data’).

As expected, authors from a wide range of disciplines have contributed their perspectives to the journal, and engaged with other disciplines, while retaining the rigor of their own specialisms. The geographic scope of the contributions has been truly global, with authors and research contexts from six continents. I am also pleased to note that a characteristic common to all the published articles is polish; this is no doubt in part due to the high level of editorial support that the journal is able to afford to authors, including copyediting. The justifications for the journal’s establishment five years ago have clearly been borne out, so that the journal now performs an important function in fostering and bringing together research on the public policy implications of an increasingly Internet-mediated society.

And what of my own research interests as an editor? In the inaugural editorial, Helen Margetts highlighted work, finance, exchange, and economic themes in general as being among the prominent areas of Internet-related social change that are likely to have significant future policy implications. I think for the most part, these implications remain to be addressed, and this is an area that the journal can encourage authors to tackle better. As an editor, I will work to direct attention to this opportunity, and welcome manuscript submissions on all aspects of Internet-enabled economic change and its policy implications. This work will be kickstarted by the journal’s 2014 conference (26-27 September), which this year focuses on crowdsourcing and online labor.

Our published articles will continue to be highlighted here in the journal’s blog. Launched last year, we believe this blog will help to expand the reach and impact of research published in Policy and Internet to the wider academic and practitioner communities, promote discussion, and increase authors’ citations. After all, publication is only the start of an article’s public life: we want people reading, debating, citing, and offering responses to the research that we, and our excellent reviewers, feel is important, and worth publishing.

Read the full editorial: Lehdonvirta, V. (2014) Past and Emerging Themes in Policy and Internet Studies. Policy & Internet 6(2): 109-114.

References

Bryer, T.A. (2011) Online Public Engagement in the Obama Administration: Building a Democracy Bubble? Policy & Internet 3 (4).

Calderaro, A. and Kavada, A. (2013) Challenges and Opportunities of Online Collective Action for Policy Change. Policy & Internet (5) 1.

Hahn, R. and Singer, H. (2013) Is the U.S. Government’s Internet Policy Broken? Policy & Internet 5 (3) 340-363.

Karpf, D. (2012) Online Political Mobilization from the Advocacy Group’s Perspective: Looking Beyond Clicktivism. Policy & Internet 2 (4) 7-41.

Margetts, H. (2009) The Internet and Public Policy. Policy and Internet 1 (1).

Margetts, H. and Sutcliffe, D. (2013) Addressing the Policy Challenges and Opportunities of ‘Big Data.’ Policy & Internet 5 (2) 139-146.

Shulman, S.W. (2009) The Case Against Mass E-mails: Perverse Incentives and Low Quality Public Participation in U.S. Federal Rulemaking. Policy & Internet 1 (1) 23-53.

Mapping collective public opinion in the Russian blogosphere

Blogs are becoming increasingly important for agenda setting and formation of collective public opinion on a wide range of issues. In countries like Russia where the Internet is not technically filtered, but where the traditional media is tightly controlled by the state, they may be particularly important. The Russian language blogosphere counts about 85 million blogs – an amount far beyond the capacities of any government to control – and the Russian search engine Yandex, with its blog rating service, serves as an important reference point for Russia’s educated public in its search of authoritative and independent sources of information. The blogosphere is thereby able to function as a mass medium of “public opinion” and also to exercise influence.

One topic that was particularly salient over the period we studied concerned the Russian Parliamentary elections of December 2011. Widely reported as fraudulent, they provoked immediate and mass street protest action by tens of thousands of people in Moscow and cities and towns across Russia, as well as corresponding activity in the blogosphere. Protesters made effective use of the Internet to organize a movement that demanded cancellation of the parliamentary election results, and the holding of new and fair elections. These protests continued until the following summer, gaining widespread national and international attention.

Most of the political and social discussion blogged in Russia is hosted on the blog platform LiveJournal. Some of these bloggers can claim a certain amount of influence; the top thirty bloggers have over 20,000 “friends” each, representing a good circulation for the average Russian newspaper. Part of the blogosphere may thereby resemble the traditional media; the deeper into the long tail of average bloggers, however, the more it functions as more as pure public opinion. This “top list” effect may be particularly important in societies (like Russia’s) where popularity lists exert a visible influence on bloggers’ competitive behavior and on public perceptions of their significance. Given the influence of these top bloggers, it may be claimed that, like the traditional media, they act as filters of issues to be thought about, and as definers of their relative importance and salience.

Gauging public opinion is of obvious interest to governments and politicians, and opinion polls are widely used to do this, but they have been consistently criticized for the imposition of agendas on respondents by pollsters, producing artefacts. Indeed, the public opinion literature has tended to regard opinion as something to be “extracted” by pollsters, which inevitably pre-structures the output. This literature doesn’t consider that public opinion might also exist in the form of natural language texts, such as blog posts, that have not been pre-structured by external observers.

There are two basic ways to detect topics in natural language texts: the first is manual coding of texts (ie by traditional content analysis), and the other involves rapidly developing techniques of automatic topic modeling or text clustering. The media studies literature has relied heavily on traditional content analysis; however, these studies are inevitably limited by the volume of data a person can physically process, given there may be hundreds of issues and opinions to track — LiveJournal’s 2.8 million blog accounts, for example, generate 90,000 posts daily.

For large text collections, therefore, only the second approach is feasible. In our article we explored how methods for topic modeling developed in computer science may be applied to social science questions – such as how to efficiently track public opinion on particular (and evolving) issues across entire populations. Specifically, we demonstrate how automated topic modeling can identify public agendas, their composition, structure, the relative salience of different topics, and their evolution over time without prior knowledge of the issues being discussed and written about. This automated “discovery” of issues in texts involves division of texts into topically — or more precisely, lexically — similar groups that can later be interpreted and labeled by researchers. Although this approach has limitations in tackling subtle meanings and links, experiments where automated results have been checked against human coding show over 90 percent accuracy.

The computer science literature is flooded with methodological papers on automatic analysis of big textual data. While these methods can’t entirely replace manual work with texts, they can help reduce it to the most meaningful and representative areas of the textual space they help to map, and are the only means to monitor agendas and attitudes across multiple sources, over long periods and at scale. They can also help solve problems of insufficient and biased sampling, when entire populations become available for analysis. Due to their recentness, as well as their mathematical and computational complexity, these approaches are rarely applied by social scientists, and to our knowledge, topic modeling has not previously been applied for the extraction of agendas from blogs in any social science research.

The natural extension of automated topic or issue extraction involves sentiment mining and analysis; as Gonzalez-Bailon, Kaltenbrunner, and Banches (2012) have pointed out, public opinion doesn’t just involve specific issues, but also encompasses the state of public emotion about these issues, including attitudes and preferences. This involves extracting opinions on the issues/agendas that are thought to be present in the texts, usually by dividing sentences into positive and negative. These techniques are based on human-coded dictionaries of emotive words, on algorithmic construction of sentiment dictionaries, or on machine learning techniques.

Both topic modeling and sentiment analysis techniques are required to effectively monitor self-generated public opinion. When methods for tracking attitudes complement methods to build topic structures, a rich and powerful map of self-generated public opinion can be drawn. Of course this mapping can’t completely replace opinion polls; rather, it’s a new way of learning what people are thinking and talking about; a method that makes the vast amounts of user-generated content about society – such as the 65 million blogs that make up the Russian blogosphere — available for social and policy analysis.

Naturally, this approach to public opinion and attitudes is not free of limitations. First, the dataset is only representative of the self-selected population of those who have authored the texts, not of the whole population. Second, like regular polled public opinion, online public opinion only covers those attitudes that bloggers are willing to share in public. Furthermore, there is still a long way to go before the relevant instruments become mature, and this will demand the efforts of the whole research community: computer scientists and social scientists alike.

Read the full paper: Olessia Koltsova and Sergei Koltcov (2013) Mapping the public agenda with topic modeling: The case of the Russian livejournal. Policy and Internet 5 (2) 207–227.

Also read on this blog: Can text mining help handle the data deluge in public policy analysis? by Aude Bicquelet.

References

González-Bailón, S., A. Kaltenbrunner, and R.E. Banches. 2012. “Emotions, Public Opinion and U.S. Presidential Approval Rates: A 5 Year Analysis of Online Political Discussions,” Human Communication Research 38 (2): 121–43.

The physics of social science: using big data for real-time predictive modelling

Ed: You are interested in analysis of big data to understand human dynamics; how much work is being done in terms of real-time predictive modelling using these data?

Taha: The socially generated transactional data that we call “big data” have been available only very recently; the amount of data we now produce about human activities in a year is comparable to the amount that used to be produced in decades (or centuries). And this is all due to recent advancements in ICTs. Despite the short period of availability of big data, the use of them in different sectors including academia and business has been significant. However, in many cases, the use of big data is limited to monitoring and post hoc analysis of different patterns. Predictive models have been rarely used in combination with big data. Nevertheless, there are very interesting examples of using big data to make predictions about disease outbreaks, financial moves in the markets, social interactions based on human mobility patterns, election results, etc.

Ed: What were the advantages of using Wikipedia as a data source for your study — as opposed to Twitter, blogs, Facebook or traditional media, etc.?

Taha: Our results have shown that the predictive power of Wikipedia page view and edit data outperforms similar box office-prediction models based on Twitter data. This can partially be explained by considering the different nature of Wikipedia compared to social media sites. Wikipedia is now the number one source of online information, and Wikipedia article page view statistics show how much Internet users have been interested in knowing about a specific movie. And the edit counts — even more importantly — indicate the level of interest of the editors in sharing their knowledge about the movies with others. Both indicators are much stronger than what you could measure on Twitter, which is mainly the reaction of the users after watching or reading about the movie. The cost of participation in Wikipedia’s editorial process makes the activity data more revealing about the potential popularity of the movies.

Another advantage is the sheer availability of Wikipedia data. Twitter streams, by comparison, are limited in both size and time. Gathering Facebook data is also problematic, whereas all the Wikipedia editorial activities and page views are recorded in full detail — and made publicly available.

Ed: Could you briefly describe your method and model?

Taha: We retrieved two sets of data from Wikipedia, the editorial activity and the page views relating to our set of 312 movies. The former indicates the popularity of the movie among the Wikipedia editors and the latter among Wikipedia readers. We then defined different measures based on these two data streams (eg number of edits, number of unique editors, etc.) In the next step we combined these data into a linear model that assumes the more popular the movie is, the larger the size of these parameters. However this model needs both training and calibration. We calibrated the model based on the IMBD data on the financial success of a set of ‘training’ movies. After calibration, we applied the model to a set of “test” movies and (luckily) saw that the model worked very well in predicting the financial success of the test movies.

Ed: What were the most significant variables in terms of predictive power; and did you use any content or sentiment analysis?

Taha: The nice thing about this method is that you don’t need to perform any content or sentiment analysis. We deal only with volumes of activities and their evolution over time. The parameter that correlated best with financial success (and which was therefore the best predictor) was the number of page views. I can easily imagine that these days if someone wants to go to watch a movie, they most likely turn to the Internet and make a quick search. Thanks to Google, Wikipedia is going to be among the top results and it’s very likely that the click will go to the Wikipedia article about the movie. I think that’s why the page views correlate to the box office takings so significantly.

Ed: Presumably people are picking up on signals, ie Wikipedia is acting like an aggregator and normaliser of disparate environmental signals — what do you think these signals might be, in terms of box office success? ie is it ultimately driven by the studio media machine?

Taha: This is a very difficult question to answer. There are numerous factors that make a movie (or a product in general) popular. Studio marketing strategies definitely play an important role, but the quality of the movie, the collective mood of the public, herding effects, and many other hidden variables are involved as well. I hope our research serves as a first step in studying popularity in a quantitative framework, letting us answer such questions. To fully understand a system the first thing you need is a tool to monitor and observe it very well quantitatively. In this research we have shown that (for example) Wikipedia is a nice window and useful tool to observe and measure popularity and its dynamics; hopefully leading to a deep understanding of the underlying mechanisms as well.

Ed: Is there similar work / approaches to what you have done in this study?

Taha: There have been other projects using socially generated data to make predictions on the popularity of movies or movement in financial markets, however to the best of my knowledge, it’s been the first time that Wikipedia data have been used to feed the models. We were positively surprised when we observed that these data have stronger predictive power than previously examined datasets.

Ed: If you have essentially shown that ‘interest on Wikipedia’ tracks ‘real-world interest’ (ie box office receipts), can this be applied to other things? eg attention to legislation, political scandal, environmental issues, humanitarian issues: ie Wikipedia as “public opinion monitor”?

Taha: I think so. Now I’m running two other projects using a similar approach; one to predict election outcomes and the other one to do opinion mining about the new policies implemented by governing bodies. In the case of elections, we have observed very strong correlations between changes in the information seeking rates of the general public and the number of ballots cast. And in the case of new policies, I think Wikipedia could be of great help in understanding the level of public interest in searching for accurate information about the policies, and how this interest is satisfied by the information provided online. And more interestingly, how this changes overtime as the new policy is fully implemented.

Ed: Do you think there are / will be practical applications of using social media platforms for prediction, or is the data too variable?

Taha: Although the availability and popularity of social media are recent phenomena, I’m sure that social media data are already being used by different bodies for predictions in various areas. We have seen very nice examples of using these data to predict disease outbreaks or the arrival of earthquake waves. The future of this field is very promising, considering both the advancements in the methodologies and also the increase in popularity and use of social media worldwide.

Ed: How practical would it be to generate real-time processing of this data — rather than analysing databases post hoc?

Taha: Data collection and analysis could be done instantly. However the challenge would be the calibration. Human societies and social systems — similarly to most complex systems — are non-stationary. That means any statistical property of the system is subject to abrupt and dramatic changes. That makes it a bit challenging to use a stationary model to describe a continuously changing system. However, one could use a class of adaptive models or Bayesian models which could modify themselves as the system evolves and more data are available. All these could be done in real time, and that’s the exciting part of the method.

Ed: As a physicist; what are you learning in a social science department? And what does physicist bring to social science and the study of human systems?

Taha: Looking at complicated phenomena in a simple way is the art of physics. As Einstein said, a physicist always tries to “make things as simple as possible, but not simpler”. And that works very well in describing natural phenomena, ranging from sub-atomic interactions all the way to cosmology. However, studying social systems with the tools of natural sciences can be very challenging, and sometimes too much simplification makes it very difficult to understand the real underlying mechanisms. Working with social scientists, I’m learning a lot about the importance of the individual attributes (and variations between) the elements of the systems under study, outliers, self-awarenesses, ethical issues related to data, agency and self-adaptation, and many other details that are mostly overlooked when a physicist studies a social system.

At the same time, I try to contribute the methodological approaches and quantitative skills that physicists have gained during two centuries of studying complex systems. I think statistical physics is an amazing example where statistical techniques can be used to describe the macro-scale collective behaviour of billions and billions of atoms with a single formula. I should admit here that humans are way more complicated than atoms — but the dialogue between natural scientists and social scientists could eventually lead to multi-scale models which could help us to gain a quantitative understanding of social systems, thereby facilitating accurate predictions of social phenomena.

Ed: What database would you like access to, if you could access anything?

Taha: I have day dreams about the database of search queries from all the Internet users worldwide at the individual level. These data are being collected continuously by search engines and technically could be accessed, but due to privacy policy issues it’s impossible to get a hold on; even if only for research purposes. This is another difference between social systems and natural systems. An atom never gets upset being watched through a microscope all the time, but working on social systems and human-related data requires a lot of care with respect to privacy and ethics.

Read the full paper: Mestyán, M., Yasseri, T., and Kertész, J. (2013) Early Prediction of Movie Box Office Success based on Wikipedia Activity Big Data. PLoS ONE 8 (8) e71226.

Taha Yasseri was talking to blog editor David Sutcliffe.

Taha Yasseri is the Big Data Research Officer at the OII. Prior to coming to the OII, he spent two years as a Postdoctoral Researcher at the Budapest University of Technology and Economics, working on the socio-physical aspects of the community of Wikipedia editors, focusing on conflict and editorial wars, along with Big Data analysis to understand human dynamics, language complexity, and popularity spread. He has interests in analysis of Big Data to understand human dynamics, government-society interactions, mass collaboration, and opinion dynamics.

Verification of crowd-sourced information: is this ‘crowd wisdom’ or machine wisdom?

Crisis mapping platform — ‘Code’ or ‘law’? Image from an Ushahidi development meetup by afropicmusing.

In ‘Code and Other Laws of Cyberspace’, Lawrence Lessig (2006) writes that computer code (or what he calls ‘West Coast code’) can have the same regulatory effect as the laws and legal code developed in Washington D.C., so-called ‘East Coast code’. Computer code impacts on a person’s behaviour by virtue of its essentially restrictive architecture: on some websites you must enter a password before you gain access, in other places you can enter unidentified. The problem with computer code, Lessig argues, is that it is invisible, and that it makes it easy to regulate people’s behaviour directly and often without recourse.

For example, fair use provisions in US copyright law enable certain uses of copyrighted works, such as copying for research or teaching purposes. However the architecture of many online publishing systems heavily regulates what one can do with an e-book: how many times it can be transferred to another device, how many times it can be printed, whether it can be moved to a different format – activities that have been unregulated until now, or that are enabled by the law but effectively ‘closed off’ by code. In this case code works to reshape behaviour, upsetting the balance between the rights of copyright holders and the rights of the public to access works to support values like education and innovation.

Working as an ethnographic researcher for Ushahidi, the non-profit technology company that makes tools for people to crowdsource crisis information, has made me acutely aware of the many ways in which ‘code’ can become ‘law’. During my time at Ushahidi, I studied the practices that people were using to verify reports by people affected by a variety of events – from earthquakes to elections, from floods to bomb blasts. I then compared these processes with those followed by Wikipedians when editing articles about breaking news events. In order to understand how to best design architecture to enable particular behaviour, it becomes important to understand how such behaviour actually occurs in practice.

In addition to the impact of code on the behaviour of users, norms, the market and laws also play a role. By interviewing both the users and designers of crowdsourcing tools I soon realized that ‘human’ verification, a process of checking whether a particular report meets a group’s truth standards, is an acutely social process. It involves negotiation between different narratives of what happened and why; identifying the sources of information and assessing their reputation among groups who are considered important users of that information; and identifying gatekeeping and fact checking processes where the source is a group or institution, amongst other factors.

One disjuncture between verification ‘practice’ and the architecture of the verification code developed by Ushahidi for users was that verification categories were set as a default feature, whereas some users of the platform wanted the verification process to be invisible to external users. Items would show up as being ‘unverified’ unless they had been explicitly marked as ‘verified’, thus confusing users about whether the item was unverified because the team hadn’t yet verified it, or whether it was unverified because it had been found to be inaccurate. Some user groups wanted to be able to turn off such features when they could not take responsibility for data verification. In the case of the Christchurch Recovery Map in the aftermath of the 2011 New Zealand earthquake, the government officials with whom volunteers who set up the Ushahidi instance were working wanted to be able to turn off such features because they were concerned that they could not ensure that reports were indeed verified and having the category show up (as ‘unverified’ until ‘verified’) implied that they were engaged in some kind of verification process.

The existence of a default verification category impacted on the Christchurch Recovery Map group’s ability to gain support from multiple stakeholders, including the government, but this feature of the platform’s architecture did not have the same effect in other places and at other times. For other users like the original Ushahidi Kenya team who worked to collate instances of violence after the Kenyan elections in 2007/08, this detailed verification workflow was essential to counter the misinformation and rumour that dogged those events. As Ushahidi’s use cases have diversified – from reporting death and damage during natural disasters to political events including elections, civil war and revolutions, the architecture of Ushahidi’s code base has needed to expand. Ushahidi has recognised that code plays a defining role in the experience of verification practices, but also that code’s impact will not be the same at all times, and in all circumstances. This is why it invested in research about user diversity in a bid to understand the contexts in which code runs, and how these contexts result in a variety of different impacts.

A key question being asked in the design of future verification mechanisms is the extent to which verification work should be done by humans or non-humans (machines). Here, verification is not a binary categorisation, but rather there is a spectrum between human and non-human verification work, and indeed, projects like Ushahidi, Wikipedia and Galaxy Zoo have all developed different verification mechanisms. Wikipedia uses a set of policies and practices about how content should be added and reviewed, such as the use of ‘citation needed’ tags for information that sounds controversial and that should be backed up by a reliable source. Galaxy Zoo uses an algorithm to detect whether certain contributions are accurate by comparing them to the same work by other volunteers.

Ushahidi leaves it up to individual deployers of their tools and platform to make decisions about verification policies and practices, and is going to be designing new defaults to accommodate this variety of use. In parallel, Veri.ly, a project by ex-Ushahidi Patrick Meier with organisations Masdar and QCRI is responding to the large amounts of unverified and often contradictory information that appears on social media following natural disasters by enabling social media users to collectively evaluate the credibility of rapidly crowdsourced evidence. The project was inspired by MIT’s winning entry to DARPA’s ‘Red Balloon Challenge’ which was intended to highlight social networking’s potential to solve widely distributed, time-sensitive problems, in this case by correctly identifying the GPS coordinates of 10 balloons suspended at fixed, undisclosed locations across the US. The winning MIT team crowdsourced the problem by using a monetary incentive structure, promising $2,000 to the first person who submitted the correct coordinates for a single balloon, $1,000 to the person who invited that person to the challenge; $500 to the person who invited the inviter, and so on. The system quickly took root, spawning geographically broad, dense branches of connections. After eight hours and 52 minutes, the MIT team identified the correct coordinates for all 10 balloons.

Veri.ly aims to apply MIT’s approach to the process of rapidly collecting and evaluating critical evidence during disasters: “Instead of looking for weather balloons across an entire country in less than 9 hours, we hope Veri.ly will facilitate the crowdsourced collection of multimedia evidence for individual disasters in under 9 minutes.” It is still unclear how (or whether) Verily will be able to reproduce the same incentive structure, but a bigger question lies around the scale and spread of social media in the majority of countries where humanitarian assistance is needed. The majority of Ushahidi or Crowdmap installations are, for example, still “small data” projects, with many focused on areas that still require offline verification procedures (such as calling volunteers or paid staff who are stationed across a country, as was the case in Sudan [3]). In these cases – where the social media presence may be insignificant — a team’s ability to achieve a strong local presence will define the quality of verification practices, and consequently the level of trust accorded to their project.

If code is law and if other aspects in addition to code determine how we can act in the world, it is important to understand the context in which code is deployed. Verification is a practice that determines how we can trust information coming from a variety of sources. Only by illuminating such practices and the variety of impacts that code can have in different environments can we begin to understand how code regulates our actions in crowdsourcing environments.

For more on Ushahidi verification practices and the management of sources on Wikipedia during breaking news events, see:

[1] Ford, H. (2012) Wikipedia Sources: Managing Sources in Rapidly Evolving Global News Articles on the English Wikipedia. SSRN Electronic Journal. doi:10.2139/ssrn.2127204

[2] Ford, H. (2012) Crowd Wisdom. Index on Censorship 41(4), 33–39. doi:10.1177/0306422012465800

[3] Ford, H. (2011) Verifying information from the crowd. Ushahidi.

Heather Ford has worked as a researcher, activist, journalist, educator and strategist in the fields of online collaboration, intellectual property reform, information privacy and open source software in South Africa, the United Kingdom and the United States. She is currently a DPhil student at the OII, where she is studying how Wikipedia editors write history as it happens in a format that is unprecedented in the history of encyclopedias. Before this, she worked as an ethnographer for Ushahidi. Read Heather’s blog.

For more on the ChristChurch Earthquake, and the role of digital humanities in preserving the digital record of its impact see: Preserving the digital record of major natural disasters: the CEISMIC Canterbury Earthquakes Digital Archive project on this blog.