TinyURL: http://tinyurl.com/y9dlboy
Recent discussions regarding net neutrality have jogged my brain into contemplating an admittedly abstract, but surprisingly practical question: What is the Internet?
I'm not asking the question from a simplistic definitive perspective, but rather from a deeper, more philosophical one. What is the Internet? What is not the Internet? How do we define the boundaries of a technological wonder that is vastly reshaping the social landscape?
I suppose I shall start by getting some formalities out of the way. Generally, I am in favor of net neutrality as a principle, but I am also in favor of people using their brains when it comes to dealing with the real implications of the policy. For example, wireless cellular networks have severely limited bandwidth capabilities, and it would be foolish to apply the same rules to them as to terrestrial hard-line networks with excess fiber capacity. For another example, even though net neutrality preaches that all packets are equal, certain services, such as VoIP and real-time video, are necessarily handicapped under such a system and some understanding and innovation needs to be applied to finding a real solution to this obstacle.
At the same time as I support a net neutrality principle, I am strongly opposed to general regulation on the Internet. In addition to the dangers to liberty simply introduced by such a scenario, general regulation combined with general technological ignorance can breed a legal nightmare for even the smallest of innovators, simply by failing to understand legally what the Internet is.
So now I've arrived back at the question at hand: What is the Internet? Technically, it's an interconnected network of networks (inter-: between, -net: networks), or at least that's an internet. The Internet, though, is defined moreso by the services it offers, most notably the World Wide Web. The World Wide Web is, of course, the network of hypertext and hyperlinks that we casually refer to as web pages. So then, we can assume that any computer on the World Wide Web must necessarily be on the Internet, but the truth is that the World Wide Web is equally as ill-defined as the Internet itself, leading us back onto the original problem. Indeed, the undefined-ness of the World Wide Web will itself become apparent as we demonstrate the undefined-ness of the Internet itself.
Why is the Internet so hard to define, though? It's really just servers and routers and computers and an unimaginable amount of cable. So let's start with a simple question: is your home network a part of the Internet? Let's start with what would make us say yes. Our network is connected to the Internet through our modem (cable, DSL, etc.), meaning we have an IP address on the Internet. We can access services on the Internet such as the World Wide Web and others. Our network utilizes the fundamental technologies of the Internet, including TCP, IP, DNS, and others. Given this line of argument, our home network is on the Internet. Of course, that now also means that our home network also falls under all of the potential regulations that any authority might devise. This thought might make you a little uncomfortable, and you might now be eagerly anticipating my counter-examples. To start, while your modem or network router might have an Internet IP address, your networked systems have private IP addresses, addresses that could be any address in theory, but generally are in the 192.168.0.0/16 or 10.0.0.0/8 ranges. Routers that make use of these address spaces are utilizing a technology known as NAT. If your networked machines (and the networked machines of others) were on the Internet, we'd have address collisions left and right or we'd quickly run out of unique addresses due to the relatively small IPv4 address space. Furthermore, NAT acts as a firewall between the network and the Internet at large, by its nature disallowing unsolicited inbound connections and altering outbound connections on multiple layers. Additionally, you do not (generally) resell your Internet access as an ISP. You are not accountable to customers or shareholders because you have none, therefore disqualifying you as a publicly-accountable service provider.
The notion that your home network is part of the general Internet is superficial and not generally supported upon deeper inspection, as shown above. Now the next step takes this a bit further to include a class of networks that generally have the same qualifications as the home network described above, but at the same time would seem to logically fall into a similar category as the Internet. I am speaking of private business networks. There are two kinds that I will discuss here: those business networks closed to the public, and those networks open to the public. Closed business networks are commonly described as intranets. They are generally used for the purpose of providing access both to private company resources and to the public Internet (or a subset of the Internet). Intranets typically use NAT just as home networks do. Intranets also can provide many Internet-class services including private, internal web servers; internal databases; web proxies; and internal hosted programs to name a few. They can also offer different network-class services such as virtual private networking, networked storage, and roaming log-on profiles. Intranets are more likely to be categorized with home networks as private and separate from the general Internet, but they also highlight the how the boundaries of the Internet can be blurred. Workers inside the intranet see private and public Internet-class services equally, and can access equivalent services through equivalent software. A private company wiki appears no differently to them than Wikipedia (here the boundaries of the World Wide Web are also blurred). To them, there is virtually no boundary between where the intranet ends and the Internet begins, but to the Internet at large, the boundary is quite clear, ending at the router where NAT is performed.
Then there is the open type of business network. The most common form of these is the publicly-accessible wireless hotspot. Anyone can connect to the network, whether for pay or for free. These networks are close siblings of both the home network and the intranet, most closely resembling the former. Open networks will generally also use NAT to translate addresses, and will therefore isolate networked systems in the same manner as above. Open networks can, but generally do not offer Internet-class or intranet-class services on the network (excepting perhaps a log-in system), though there is nothing preventing them from doing so. While these networks in nearly every way replicate the qualities of their siblings, the home network and the intranet, they much more than them would be classified as falling under Internet regulation, since they are generally reselling Internet access to customers. It would make sense to then apply the same rules to them as to larger ISPs, and yet their network management concerns more closely match those of the smaller networks above discussed. They would be more worried about providing consistent, limited bandwidth over a limited, error-prone medium (radio waves via air). They would not want a neutral network, but would rather limit bandwidth-hogging applications such as Skype and real-time video to provide a better general experience to all of their customers. In this case, net neutrality could be worse for the network users.
This then leaves open the question of whether public-access business networks are part of the Internet. They qualify in some regards and disqualify in others. Yet this question still has not been explored to the absolute limit. As described above, the Internet is defined by the services it offers, such as the World Wide Web, yet every fundamental service on the Internet can be replicated separately on a completely different network. I described above how intranets can have private, internal services hidden from the Internet at large. These services use the same technologies and standards as the Internet at large, though. Indeed, one could create their own private internet completely separate from the Internet by simply creating a network with all of the common services such as DNS, e-mail, web servers, etc. There is nothing legal or technological inhibiting such a development. Now the question arises as to whether this separate network is a part of the Internet. The answer should be apparent, but then again perhaps not. This new network could provide an equal level of service, and could provide equally as many commercial and expressive opportunities as the Internet. Does it qualify as a part of the Internet at inception, since it uses Internet technology? Does it qualify as the Internet once access is sold to even one person? Does it qualify as the Internet once it reaches a certain size? Does it never qualify as the Internet, even if it grew to become more prolific than the Internet? If it does not qualify as part of the Internet, then does that mean that regulators are nothing more than national network administrators of one network called the Internet? If it does qualify, then where does the network, and the reach of those who might regulate it end?
I don't know the answers to these questions. Perhaps someone smarter than me has already found these answers. Despite that, I still believe these are questions we need to ask. We need to know what the Internet is before we can ever hope to deal with it in any meaningful way.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Ecosystems, and Why We No Longer Talk About Ecosystems
TinyURL: http://tinyurl.com/ml687h
When I was in school, really not so many years ago, a topic of major import to the education of biology and ecology was the concept of the ecosystem. To simply and accurately define the term, an ecosystem is a system of living creatures and their environment, and their interactions. This concept provided not a simple view of a single animal or species, but a holistic view of several species coexisting together interdependently in a system. While those words may seem simple enough to comprehend, it is the magnitude of their meaning that underlies the enormity of the idea's contribution to fundamentally altering the way we view the world.
Systems are, by nearly every definition, complex. Indeed there are entire fields of science, and even more subfields of other areas devoted to the understanding and exploration of systems, whether they be called "systems," "networks," "communities," or by some other nomenclature. To say that our environment is indeed a system brings about the force of sheer complexity when trying to understand it. As an example of their complexity, an ecosystem may be virtually unfazed by a volcanic eruption in its midst, but may completely collapse at the introduction of a new species of mosquito. What determines the durability, longevity, productivity, etc. of an ecosystem is buried deep within the system.
But to what ends does this systemic understanding go? Well, systems have very unique properties that radically defy our notions of simple causality. Systems are very much subject to the Law of Unintended Consequences, as well as to the magnifying powers of the Butterfly Effect. Simply assuming that a particular change will have a particular, limited effect ignores the holistic view of the system.
So what brought this particular rant on? Listening to Barack Obama talk about controlling global warming. While in Italy for the G8 summit, he gave a speech where he discussed limiting global warming to no more than two degrees Celsius. Putting the fundamental debate over global warming aside, this policy still struck me as enormously naive, since it clearly failed to account at all for the massive systemic effects of his proposed policies, and whether they would really have any of the desired effects after they entered the system. To give an example, the main push right now is to limit the emission of carbon, generally in the form of carbon dioxide. The assumption is that by limiting carbon emission, we would limit global warming in a linear relation. Where this argument begins to fall apart is at the mere fact that, while we and all other animals emit this useless gas, plants absorb carbon dioxide as part of their functions necessary to life. Without carbon dioxide, plants cannot survive. So then do the changes in carbon emission have a negative impact on the planet's flora, resulting in a worse condition than the problem trying to be solved? The real answer is that nobody knows, but worse, nobody is even going to do the proper systemic analysis to find out.
Even when I learned about ecosystems, there were always two primary failings that were never addressed in the education of the theory. The first failing is the theoretical closedness of an ecosystem. The theorists always saw an ecosystem as generally closed and complete in itself, virtually independent from the rest of the world. The problem here is that nothing is so isolated as to ever be a closed system. There are always larger interactions between even those ecosystems that seem the most isolated. To the best of our scientific knowledge, the only truly closed ecosystem is the entirety of the universe. Even the Earth is not completely closed as it regularly interacts with extraterrestrial factors such as the Sun, the Moon, comets, meteors, etc. All ecosystems are open and interrelated. The second failing of the science of ecosystems is the general exclusion of the most prolific element in the system: human beings. At least when I was taught, people were considered as externalities to ecosystems, not as elements within them. This belief vainly elevates us over systems of which we are merely parts, sometimes small parts at that. Our interactions with an ecosystem are not rare, incidental, and disruptive, but are more frequent, purposeful, and continuous to the system. Though we are the only species that radically changes our environment, we are not superior or external to it.
I suppose it is no surprise that so few people seemed to react to Obama's folly: we no longer talk about ecosystems. The Green movement has usurped the conservationist and ecological fields, and replaced them with a growing crowd of mindless fanatics and power-grabbing bureaucrats. Money and influence no longer go to ensuring environmental conservation or ecosystemic health, but rather go to buying politicians and television advertisements. No one is left to even think about the systemic view, but rather everyone marches blindly to Al Gore's drum.
Understanding ecosystems is important. Without an understanding of the system of which we are a part may lead us to cause far greater damages actively protecting it than what we might cause by passively ignoring it.
When I was in school, really not so many years ago, a topic of major import to the education of biology and ecology was the concept of the ecosystem. To simply and accurately define the term, an ecosystem is a system of living creatures and their environment, and their interactions. This concept provided not a simple view of a single animal or species, but a holistic view of several species coexisting together interdependently in a system. While those words may seem simple enough to comprehend, it is the magnitude of their meaning that underlies the enormity of the idea's contribution to fundamentally altering the way we view the world.
Systems are, by nearly every definition, complex. Indeed there are entire fields of science, and even more subfields of other areas devoted to the understanding and exploration of systems, whether they be called "systems," "networks," "communities," or by some other nomenclature. To say that our environment is indeed a system brings about the force of sheer complexity when trying to understand it. As an example of their complexity, an ecosystem may be virtually unfazed by a volcanic eruption in its midst, but may completely collapse at the introduction of a new species of mosquito. What determines the durability, longevity, productivity, etc. of an ecosystem is buried deep within the system.
But to what ends does this systemic understanding go? Well, systems have very unique properties that radically defy our notions of simple causality. Systems are very much subject to the Law of Unintended Consequences, as well as to the magnifying powers of the Butterfly Effect. Simply assuming that a particular change will have a particular, limited effect ignores the holistic view of the system.
So what brought this particular rant on? Listening to Barack Obama talk about controlling global warming. While in Italy for the G8 summit, he gave a speech where he discussed limiting global warming to no more than two degrees Celsius. Putting the fundamental debate over global warming aside, this policy still struck me as enormously naive, since it clearly failed to account at all for the massive systemic effects of his proposed policies, and whether they would really have any of the desired effects after they entered the system. To give an example, the main push right now is to limit the emission of carbon, generally in the form of carbon dioxide. The assumption is that by limiting carbon emission, we would limit global warming in a linear relation. Where this argument begins to fall apart is at the mere fact that, while we and all other animals emit this useless gas, plants absorb carbon dioxide as part of their functions necessary to life. Without carbon dioxide, plants cannot survive. So then do the changes in carbon emission have a negative impact on the planet's flora, resulting in a worse condition than the problem trying to be solved? The real answer is that nobody knows, but worse, nobody is even going to do the proper systemic analysis to find out.
Even when I learned about ecosystems, there were always two primary failings that were never addressed in the education of the theory. The first failing is the theoretical closedness of an ecosystem. The theorists always saw an ecosystem as generally closed and complete in itself, virtually independent from the rest of the world. The problem here is that nothing is so isolated as to ever be a closed system. There are always larger interactions between even those ecosystems that seem the most isolated. To the best of our scientific knowledge, the only truly closed ecosystem is the entirety of the universe. Even the Earth is not completely closed as it regularly interacts with extraterrestrial factors such as the Sun, the Moon, comets, meteors, etc. All ecosystems are open and interrelated. The second failing of the science of ecosystems is the general exclusion of the most prolific element in the system: human beings. At least when I was taught, people were considered as externalities to ecosystems, not as elements within them. This belief vainly elevates us over systems of which we are merely parts, sometimes small parts at that. Our interactions with an ecosystem are not rare, incidental, and disruptive, but are more frequent, purposeful, and continuous to the system. Though we are the only species that radically changes our environment, we are not superior or external to it.
I suppose it is no surprise that so few people seemed to react to Obama's folly: we no longer talk about ecosystems. The Green movement has usurped the conservationist and ecological fields, and replaced them with a growing crowd of mindless fanatics and power-grabbing bureaucrats. Money and influence no longer go to ensuring environmental conservation or ecosystemic health, but rather go to buying politicians and television advertisements. No one is left to even think about the systemic view, but rather everyone marches blindly to Al Gore's drum.
Understanding ecosystems is important. Without an understanding of the system of which we are a part may lead us to cause far greater damages actively protecting it than what we might cause by passively ignoring it.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Where have the web pages gone?
TinyURL: http://tinyurl.com/cbpnf6
Recently, after reading an article by Jeffrey Zeldman, I've taken some time to reflect on the realities and extent of web outsourcing, both on my own personal web site as well as on web sites in general. It's giving me some perspective on what my site is to be or become, and it's challenging me to consider how my web site should function.
Just glancing at my web site, I thought that it was pretty well self-contained, but after a second look, I realize that it really isn't, and that indeed my most significant content is actually offloaded. The two pieces that I update most frequently are this blog and my Twitter account, @cbojar, and both of these pieces are externally hosted. The YouTube video on my front page is, as the name implies, hosted on YouTube. While I do host some of my own content, a significant portion of it, and the most actively maintained portion of it, is actually hosted, managed, and delivered by web sites that I do not own, control, or even have any real say over.
The reality is that I'm tech-savvy enough that I could roll my own versions of these services. Twitter is basically just 140 characters in a database entry. A blog is only slightly more complex because of its commenting, navigation, and editing features. With a little database wizardry and ASP magic, I could easily develop my own versions of these services, or, I might even be able to find free software on the Internet to do all of this for me already. I really don't need to use these services if I don't want to, and yet I, and many others, still do.
There are pieces that cannot be replicated on-site from these services, namely the communities behind them. Twitter wouldn't be nearly as interesting if it wasn't all aggregated together in one place. It's not impossible to build your own community nor is it impossible not to create services to integrate a dispersed community, though. Since these barriers aren't really barriers at all, why then do I and so many others still use these external services rather than centralize our own brand and content to ourselves? I guess, to be honest, it's tedious, time-consuming, and far simpler to go use something that is already prefabricated with all the bugs worked out by somebody else. Depending on which side of the coin comes up, you could call it effort-effective or you could call it simple laziness.
I don't necessarily want to disparage these technologies. They've made the Web simpler and given a digital voice to many who wouldn't otherwise have one. At the same time, though, they've taken away pieces of what used to be a very vibrant center for individual activity, and canned them into generic services that, while offering something we didn't have before, take away from the essential freedom and flexibility of the medium.
Recently, after reading an article by Jeffrey Zeldman, I've taken some time to reflect on the realities and extent of web outsourcing, both on my own personal web site as well as on web sites in general. It's giving me some perspective on what my site is to be or become, and it's challenging me to consider how my web site should function.
Just glancing at my web site, I thought that it was pretty well self-contained, but after a second look, I realize that it really isn't, and that indeed my most significant content is actually offloaded. The two pieces that I update most frequently are this blog and my Twitter account, @cbojar, and both of these pieces are externally hosted. The YouTube video on my front page is, as the name implies, hosted on YouTube. While I do host some of my own content, a significant portion of it, and the most actively maintained portion of it, is actually hosted, managed, and delivered by web sites that I do not own, control, or even have any real say over.
The reality is that I'm tech-savvy enough that I could roll my own versions of these services. Twitter is basically just 140 characters in a database entry. A blog is only slightly more complex because of its commenting, navigation, and editing features. With a little database wizardry and ASP magic, I could easily develop my own versions of these services, or, I might even be able to find free software on the Internet to do all of this for me already. I really don't need to use these services if I don't want to, and yet I, and many others, still do.
There are pieces that cannot be replicated on-site from these services, namely the communities behind them. Twitter wouldn't be nearly as interesting if it wasn't all aggregated together in one place. It's not impossible to build your own community nor is it impossible not to create services to integrate a dispersed community, though. Since these barriers aren't really barriers at all, why then do I and so many others still use these external services rather than centralize our own brand and content to ourselves? I guess, to be honest, it's tedious, time-consuming, and far simpler to go use something that is already prefabricated with all the bugs worked out by somebody else. Depending on which side of the coin comes up, you could call it effort-effective or you could call it simple laziness.
I don't necessarily want to disparage these technologies. They've made the Web simpler and given a digital voice to many who wouldn't otherwise have one. At the same time, though, they've taken away pieces of what used to be a very vibrant center for individual activity, and canned them into generic services that, while offering something we didn't have before, take away from the essential freedom and flexibility of the medium.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Freeconomy and Why It Sucks
TinyURL: http://tinyurl.com/b9pp2s
I was reading an article from the Wall Street Journal just now, The Economics of Giving It Away, and I had an epiphany of sorts. I think I figured out why the Freeconomy sucks.
First, let me describe what I mean by the Freeconomy. Google is part of the freeconomy. Facebook is part of the freeconomy. The United States government is even part of the freeconomy now. The freeconomy is an economy built on the idea of giving away everything for free, and having a small minority pay the costs of that. Google gives away dozens of services for free, but gets paid not by the consumers of those services, but rather by advertisers. Facebook similarly gives away its services to the general public, but advertisers pay the bills. As for the government, nearly half of all Americans do not pay income taxes, but receive services paid for primarily by the top 5% of income earners.
The truth is, though, that the freeconomy sucks. As an (very geeky) example, recently I've tried to develop applications on both the Google and Facebook platforms. When I ran into trouble, real support was lacking from both companies. Documentation sucked, and if I really had to have the problems solved, I could ask other developers who might or might not know, and who might or might not even get back to me.
The Linux community is one of the oldest adherents to this model, and it shows. Switching to Linux, while generally pleasant on the technical side, is often a terrible experience when trying to integrate with the community. The Linux community feels that they make their system for themselves, and therefore anyone from the outside who wants anything different is dismissed, often harshly. The new people don't pay the bills because Linux is free, so they don't get the customer service they're accustomed to from other companies. Because the insular community pays the bills (in various ways, such as with code contributions), they give each other the attention, often to the exclusion of anyone else. Since new users don't pay, the Linux user base has remained fairly small for a very long time.
The problem is that, for most of the Freeconomy, the customers no longer are the ones paying the bills. They consume gratis resources and return nothing. The customers have become expenses rather than revenue. Technically speaking, the consumers are not really the customers if they are not generating revenue. The true customers are the advertising companies who pay the bills. What does this mean for the consumers of these products, though? Well, the customer is number 1, and that's not you. When it comes to making someone happy, your interests are pretty low on the totem pole. The companies who are most prevalent in our lives anymore aren't even interested in truly giving us a better product. They're more interested in providing a better ad platform. It is no wonder that the average consumer goes by the wayside for these entities.
This is why the government and large corporations are working hard to get us spending money again to "save the economy." They're even willing to give us free money with which to do it. Why would they do such a thing? Because the people with which we would spend that money are the people who pay the bills. It doesn't matter that continuing to push spending over savings is bad for most individuals. What matters is getting people to buy the cars and TVs and everything else that pays the bills.
Not all community-oriented organizations in the Freeconomy suck. Wikipedia, for example, is an exception, mostly due to its vast and diverse user base. Because they must be so much to so many, they've avoided the insular nature of Linux. Because they are funded solely by that large user base, they focus on building a better product for them. The consumers are paying the bills, and that makes them true customers.
The unique aspect of business used to be that the people who got the products and services were the ones who paid the bills. Charities, governments, and most other types of organizations had to deal with a separation of these two interests (which may be one reason why they are not always good at what they do), but business only had to focus on one place, which meant the customer always was the target for better service and better products. Well, now we've blown that model out of the water, and I think we're just starting to see how that's going to work out. While I am not a fan of some of the products I must purchase (*cough*Comcast*cough*), at the end of the day, I know that they're accountable to me because I pay the bills, and maybe that's better than free.
I was reading an article from the Wall Street Journal just now, The Economics of Giving It Away, and I had an epiphany of sorts. I think I figured out why the Freeconomy sucks.
First, let me describe what I mean by the Freeconomy. Google is part of the freeconomy. Facebook is part of the freeconomy. The United States government is even part of the freeconomy now. The freeconomy is an economy built on the idea of giving away everything for free, and having a small minority pay the costs of that. Google gives away dozens of services for free, but gets paid not by the consumers of those services, but rather by advertisers. Facebook similarly gives away its services to the general public, but advertisers pay the bills. As for the government, nearly half of all Americans do not pay income taxes, but receive services paid for primarily by the top 5% of income earners.
The truth is, though, that the freeconomy sucks. As an (very geeky) example, recently I've tried to develop applications on both the Google and Facebook platforms. When I ran into trouble, real support was lacking from both companies. Documentation sucked, and if I really had to have the problems solved, I could ask other developers who might or might not know, and who might or might not even get back to me.
The Linux community is one of the oldest adherents to this model, and it shows. Switching to Linux, while generally pleasant on the technical side, is often a terrible experience when trying to integrate with the community. The Linux community feels that they make their system for themselves, and therefore anyone from the outside who wants anything different is dismissed, often harshly. The new people don't pay the bills because Linux is free, so they don't get the customer service they're accustomed to from other companies. Because the insular community pays the bills (in various ways, such as with code contributions), they give each other the attention, often to the exclusion of anyone else. Since new users don't pay, the Linux user base has remained fairly small for a very long time.
The problem is that, for most of the Freeconomy, the customers no longer are the ones paying the bills. They consume gratis resources and return nothing. The customers have become expenses rather than revenue. Technically speaking, the consumers are not really the customers if they are not generating revenue. The true customers are the advertising companies who pay the bills. What does this mean for the consumers of these products, though? Well, the customer is number 1, and that's not you. When it comes to making someone happy, your interests are pretty low on the totem pole. The companies who are most prevalent in our lives anymore aren't even interested in truly giving us a better product. They're more interested in providing a better ad platform. It is no wonder that the average consumer goes by the wayside for these entities.
This is why the government and large corporations are working hard to get us spending money again to "save the economy." They're even willing to give us free money with which to do it. Why would they do such a thing? Because the people with which we would spend that money are the people who pay the bills. It doesn't matter that continuing to push spending over savings is bad for most individuals. What matters is getting people to buy the cars and TVs and everything else that pays the bills.
Not all community-oriented organizations in the Freeconomy suck. Wikipedia, for example, is an exception, mostly due to its vast and diverse user base. Because they must be so much to so many, they've avoided the insular nature of Linux. Because they are funded solely by that large user base, they focus on building a better product for them. The consumers are paying the bills, and that makes them true customers.
The unique aspect of business used to be that the people who got the products and services were the ones who paid the bills. Charities, governments, and most other types of organizations had to deal with a separation of these two interests (which may be one reason why they are not always good at what they do), but business only had to focus on one place, which meant the customer always was the target for better service and better products. Well, now we've blown that model out of the water, and I think we're just starting to see how that's going to work out. While I am not a fan of some of the products I must purchase (*cough*Comcast*cough*), at the end of the day, I know that they're accountable to me because I pay the bills, and maybe that's better than free.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Book Review: "It's Called Work For A Reason" - Larry Winget
I recently purchased and read "Its Called Work for a Reason" by Larry Winget. Prior to reading this book, I knew nothing about the author, but while reading this book, I discovered that he is fairly well-known, appearing frequently on business news shows. I finished the book in the short span of a week after trying to go slowly and absorb the most out of this book. It is an excellent read with a direct, no-nonsense approach to how you should approach your professional life. It was so good, I have purchased and am now reading his previous book, "Shut Up, Stop Whining, and Get a Life." Buy it and read it, you won't like it but you'll love it.
Final Rating: π π π π π
Final Rating: π π π π π
Too Big to Fail: The Name of a New Aristocracy
The United States has now inaugurated its next President, a man who has promised great changes for the nation. Which of the promised changes he will actually deliver is yet to be seen, but a change promised by no one is on the horizon. This unpromised change began to coalesce in September of 2008, and is moving steadily towards its fruition. The phrase
I address in an earlier post the fundamental right to fail. Failure is not only a fundamental right of all peoples, though, but a unique condition of humanity. We are the only creatures on this earth endowed with an enviable ability to fail. If we were lions, and we failed to capture food, we would die of hunger. If we were antelopes who failed to escape the lions, we would die. As humans, when we fail, we are given the ability to pick ourselves up and try again, equally (if not moreso) able to achieve success as the last time. To create a new aristocracy, and allow them never to fail, we not only give up our American values, including the right to fail, but we give up a piece of our very humanity.
Too Big to Failwas applied to several major corporations, including AIG, many major banks, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, and the Big Three automakers, among others. These companies couldn't fail because their failure would be too destructive to the American way of life, but in reality, saving them through government bailouts is even more destructive to that way of life. By saying these companies were too big to fail, the government put them upon a pedestal and established them as greater than other companies and individuals in similar situations. The government placed them on a pedestal of a new aristocracy.
I address in an earlier post the fundamental right to fail. Failure is not only a fundamental right of all peoples, though, but a unique condition of humanity. We are the only creatures on this earth endowed with an enviable ability to fail. If we were lions, and we failed to capture food, we would die of hunger. If we were antelopes who failed to escape the lions, we would die. As humans, when we fail, we are given the ability to pick ourselves up and try again, equally (if not moreso) able to achieve success as the last time. To create a new aristocracy, and allow them never to fail, we not only give up our American values, including the right to fail, but we give up a piece of our very humanity.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Taxation: A System of Revenue - Update
So it seems that in a previous post discussing taxation, I described some views that apparently are not solely held by myself, but rather place me in good company. The President's Advisory Panel on Federal Tax Reform discussed similar issues in a report from 2005. It turns out I'm not so ahead of the curve as I thought, but I'm glad to know that I'm not alone in my sentiments.
Updated (3/10/2009): It appears that after the Presidential transition, maintaining the web site on the President's Advisory Panel became too burdensome, so I have updated the link to point to the Wayback Machine's last version of the page.
Updated (3/10/2009): It appears that after the Presidential transition, maintaining the web site on the President's Advisory Panel became too burdensome, so I have updated the link to point to the Wayback Machine's last version of the page.
A New Day, A New Distro
A while back, I took an old desktop of mine and installed Linux on it to bring it new life as well as to have a Linux machine available for projects better suited for that operating system. The very first distribution I tried on it was Fedora. That was an abysmal failure as the screen never came to life. It's really difficult to work on a black screen. After that, I tried Freespire and I was happy with it for a while. I even upgraded from 1.x to 2.0, finding that to be even better. Over time, though, the operating system grew tired, programs were not being updated with any frequency (OpenOffice.org, Firefox, etc.), and KDE kept crashing more and more often. The Freespire community also was not encouraging. While I never joined their forum directly, I often read it for new information, so I saw how the people who were supporting the operating system were supporting their user base. I noticed a number of things about the support community just by reading the forum, such as the fact that they treated anyone coming from Windows and having problems rather poorly. Another tidbit I noticed about this community was that none of them really ran the operating system they were supporting, as evidenced by their forum signatures. A number of them ran Ubuntu or other Linux variants, some exclusively. The very people who were supposed to be supporting this product were not even running it themselves. The last straw came whenever the company behind the distribution was bought over by another Linux distributor that was even less appealing. So I figured it was time for a change.
I figured that before I went crazy installing operating system after operating system, I'd give them all a run in VMware first to experience how installing and running the operating systems would go. I tried a number of different systems, namely Debian, Xubuntu (versions 8.10 and 8.04), Nexenta, and one or two more I don't recall. I've used Puppy Linux in the past, mostly for playing around, but I decided not to evaluate it for this because I've found it has neither the feature-set nor the stability I'd like to have. I was hesitant to use Ku/Xu/Ubuntu because of the recent issues Ubuntu has had with regressions, beta software, etc., so though I tested Xubuntu, it was admittedly at a disadvantage. That didn't matter though, as the only operating system in my testing that actually worked in the virtual machine was Debian. I found it to be a breeze to install (using the netinstall disk), and I thought it was rock-solid during use. It does suffer from one drawback, that being timeliness on software updates (OpenOffice.org in Debian Etch is still version 2.0.4, the current version is 3.0.0, for example). The trade-off here is not that the updates aren't being made but rather that the updates are being thoroughly tested before being released on the operating system. I suppose I can live with that for now, we shall see. Otherwise, installing Debian on the actual machine was effortless. Rearranging GNOME to suit my tastes took a little longer, but was not exceptionally difficult.
We shall see how things go with running this new operating system. One goal of mine is to try to avoid using the terminal as much as possible, so I'll see how that works out. Updates may follow on how things go.
I figured that before I went crazy installing operating system after operating system, I'd give them all a run in VMware first to experience how installing and running the operating systems would go. I tried a number of different systems, namely Debian, Xubuntu (versions 8.10 and 8.04), Nexenta, and one or two more I don't recall. I've used Puppy Linux in the past, mostly for playing around, but I decided not to evaluate it for this because I've found it has neither the feature-set nor the stability I'd like to have. I was hesitant to use Ku/Xu/Ubuntu because of the recent issues Ubuntu has had with regressions, beta software, etc., so though I tested Xubuntu, it was admittedly at a disadvantage. That didn't matter though, as the only operating system in my testing that actually worked in the virtual machine was Debian. I found it to be a breeze to install (using the netinstall disk), and I thought it was rock-solid during use. It does suffer from one drawback, that being timeliness on software updates (OpenOffice.org in Debian Etch is still version 2.0.4, the current version is 3.0.0, for example). The trade-off here is not that the updates aren't being made but rather that the updates are being thoroughly tested before being released on the operating system. I suppose I can live with that for now, we shall see. Otherwise, installing Debian on the actual machine was effortless. Rearranging GNOME to suit my tastes took a little longer, but was not exceptionally difficult.
We shall see how things go with running this new operating system. One goal of mine is to try to avoid using the terminal as much as possible, so I'll see how that works out. Updates may follow on how things go.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Taxation: A System of Revenue
While the title of this article may seem self-explanatory, in reality many politicians not only fail to act under this premise, they actively act contrary to this simple principle. The entire purpose of taxation is to provide a stream of revenue for the government to fulfill its constitutional obligations, but some politicians have come under the belief that taxation is a system of income redistribution, rewards for some, punishments for others, a tool to interfere in free markets, their own personal bank accounts, and a plethora of other illegitimate uses. Taxes are not to be used for any of these purposes, but solely to raise revenue for the government to operate.
Some people may ask, "then what about tax nuances such as the child tax credit?" Indeed, this is a valid question, since at first glance it appears that this is a taxation mechanism being used to reward a certain personal activity. Consider, though, the economic activity that arises out of raising a child, all those additional purchases a family must make. All of this economic activity feeds the government through sales taxation, and in this way they can make up for the losses of a tax credit. What's more, the additional tax income is steady, as economic activity relating to raising a child is sustained as long as the child is being raised.
Another question might be, "so then economic stimulus packages where every American gets a check is along the same lines?" Answer: not so much. Stimulus packages so structured generally do not distribute back according to tax burden, but rather as an $X amount per person. This puts it into a category of income redistribution. Additionally, these stimulus packages do not create sustained economic activity, only a one-time burst of activity.
Politicians are continuing down a path towards misusing the taxation system for every purpose but what its purpose really is. As we do go down this path, America will only become more abused by its own government.
Some people may ask, "then what about tax nuances such as the child tax credit?" Indeed, this is a valid question, since at first glance it appears that this is a taxation mechanism being used to reward a certain personal activity. Consider, though, the economic activity that arises out of raising a child, all those additional purchases a family must make. All of this economic activity feeds the government through sales taxation, and in this way they can make up for the losses of a tax credit. What's more, the additional tax income is steady, as economic activity relating to raising a child is sustained as long as the child is being raised.
Another question might be, "so then economic stimulus packages where every American gets a check is along the same lines?" Answer: not so much. Stimulus packages so structured generally do not distribute back according to tax burden, but rather as an $X amount per person. This puts it into a category of income redistribution. Additionally, these stimulus packages do not create sustained economic activity, only a one-time burst of activity.
Politicians are continuing down a path towards misusing the taxation system for every purpose but what its purpose really is. As we do go down this path, America will only become more abused by its own government.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Legacy and Heritage
A few days ago, I found myself drinking a Starbucks tea in the lobby of the old Insurance Company of North America building, and I got to thinking (though in reality, these thoughts have been coalescing in my head for a couple weeks now). I got to thinking about how our nation takes its history upon itself. I figured that, really, there are two ways our nation handles its history: legacy and heritage. In the dictionary, perhaps, these definitions are not so far apart (I haven't looked, it only taints the thoughts), but in the practical world, I believe they represent two very different approaches.
Legacy is often referred to as something left behind by someone, such as the Clinton legacy or the Nixon legacy. Some people even try to actively craft their own legacies to be left to their progenitors, as in the case of family companies or wealth, etc. Legacy often includes bad components as well as good, such as a legacy of crime or a legacy of war. All the same, a legacy is not something we accept upon ourselves, but rather is something thrust upon us by an onerous of history. Legacies are comprised not only of ideological materials, but also of physical materials, such as legacy software and event the old Insurance Company of North America building. It could be said that legacies are what we have to live with.
Heritage, on the other hand, is something a person or a nation does not simply inherit but rather is something that a person or a nation must take upon itself by choice. Heritage, because of the nature of it being taken on rather than given, generally comes with just the good, since no one really wants any extra bad luggage. For example, many Americans take the heritage of the American Revolution to heart, even though their families did not immigrate to the country until many generations later. Another such example is when Americans of distinctly European decent take upon themselves the heritage of East Asian Zen philosophy, showing that heritage can be taken up from an otherwise foreign culture and background, requiring no other connection than the act of taking up such heritage.
Legacy can live on long after the events that caused its founding have passed, but heritage must be renewed with every person and every generation to live on. Because of this, heritage can be endangered by the weight of legacy and the forces of people. Good heritage could easily be lost to the annals of history, while bad legacy may live on indefinitely. For example, the heritage of the American Civil War has been lost to the legacy of slavery as an institution. Today, the focus rests solely upon a racist system and the disadvantages it wrought, and no focus is given to the fact that many hundreds of thousands, black and white, men and women, died fighting to abolish that system and to preserve a nation built upon the premises of freedom. The discussion is on the legacy of slavery rather than the heritage of freedom.
Then there is the old Insurance Company of North America building. This building represents the legacy of a company. That company merged with another company to become another company (a company that today is known as CIGNA). The building has been repurposed primarily for residential use. The building is the legacy of the Insurance Company of North America, but the people who own, live, and work in the building have taken on the heritage of the building, the neighborhood, the city, and the country: the heritage of home ownership, of commerce, and of renewal.
Legacy is often referred to as something left behind by someone, such as the Clinton legacy or the Nixon legacy. Some people even try to actively craft their own legacies to be left to their progenitors, as in the case of family companies or wealth, etc. Legacy often includes bad components as well as good, such as a legacy of crime or a legacy of war. All the same, a legacy is not something we accept upon ourselves, but rather is something thrust upon us by an onerous of history. Legacies are comprised not only of ideological materials, but also of physical materials, such as legacy software and event the old Insurance Company of North America building. It could be said that legacies are what we have to live with.
Heritage, on the other hand, is something a person or a nation does not simply inherit but rather is something that a person or a nation must take upon itself by choice. Heritage, because of the nature of it being taken on rather than given, generally comes with just the good, since no one really wants any extra bad luggage. For example, many Americans take the heritage of the American Revolution to heart, even though their families did not immigrate to the country until many generations later. Another such example is when Americans of distinctly European decent take upon themselves the heritage of East Asian Zen philosophy, showing that heritage can be taken up from an otherwise foreign culture and background, requiring no other connection than the act of taking up such heritage.
Legacy can live on long after the events that caused its founding have passed, but heritage must be renewed with every person and every generation to live on. Because of this, heritage can be endangered by the weight of legacy and the forces of people. Good heritage could easily be lost to the annals of history, while bad legacy may live on indefinitely. For example, the heritage of the American Civil War has been lost to the legacy of slavery as an institution. Today, the focus rests solely upon a racist system and the disadvantages it wrought, and no focus is given to the fact that many hundreds of thousands, black and white, men and women, died fighting to abolish that system and to preserve a nation built upon the premises of freedom. The discussion is on the legacy of slavery rather than the heritage of freedom.
Then there is the old Insurance Company of North America building. This building represents the legacy of a company. That company merged with another company to become another company (a company that today is known as CIGNA). The building has been repurposed primarily for residential use. The building is the legacy of the Insurance Company of North America, but the people who own, live, and work in the building have taken on the heritage of the building, the neighborhood, the city, and the country: the heritage of home ownership, of commerce, and of renewal.
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