By Geert Lovink
‘Whoever sets the standard has the power.’ Strangely enough, this view has few disciples. We prefer to believe that opinion makers control the political agenda. It is tempting to believe that content, and not form, determines our lives. The standard height of a computer table is 72 cm. But who bothers about that? Isn’t it about the quality of the work that comes out of the computer? An easy-on-the-eye font for a novel is nice enough, but what really counts is the writer’s gift for entertaining us.
For many years, philosophers have been casting doubt on this common identification with meaning. If we wish to understand anything about how our complex technical society is made up, we must pay attention to the structures that surround us, from industry norms to building regulations, software icons and internet protocols. If we wish a different society, with more equality and style, it is not enough to think differently; the framework of that thinking must also be overturned. If you want to make a contribution that really makes a difference, then you will have to design the standard for communication of the future yourself. This is the politics of the standard: those who are able to determine the outline of the form determine like no other the culture of tomorrow.
Yet only a few attach any belief to the deeper truth that hides behind our technical infrastructure. The idea that, when it actually comes down to it, a closed company of technocrats decides our window on the world causes concern. It is not supposed to be the HD camera or the animation program that makes a film good or bad but the creative skills of the filmmaker to tell the story in such a way that we immediately forget the technical details. At least, this is the way we are repeatedly inclined to think. Who really understands the degree to which the browser decides what we get to see on the internet?
Who will finally map the influence that the monopolist Microsoft has on our visual culture? Marshall McLuhan’s sixties’ statement that ‘the medium is the message’ remains a misunderstood speculation, which has proved not untrue but rather unbearable. The attention paid in the media to background standards and protocols is minimal. Instead, we gaze starry eyed at the whirlwind lives of the celebrity and the mico-opinions of the columnist. It is this sort of interference that reassures us. But when will the discomfort with the artist as an ‘eye candy maker’ actually emerge?
While the web seesaws 2.0 packs up and down in the info conjuncture, solid studies show that things are not run by the hip windbags but by grey engineers. Their exercise of power is no longer part of a conspiracy. Control is no longer top down but from inside out; it is decentralised and machine-driven. This makes it more difficult to decide who really calls the shots. It seems that power is no longer in the hands of people, but manifests itself in software, surveillance cameras, invisible small chips.
Working out who defines and manages the technological standards can become a new method of power analysis. ‘Protocol’ once referred to a tape with verification and date stuck to a papyrus roll. Now, ‘protocol’ is promoted to a decisive collection of rules on which society revolves. How can we get a grip on the invisible techno-class that prescribes these rules? Is it sufficient to urge participation? Demonstrating the undemocratic character of the closed consultation is one thing, but are alternative models available? Is it sufficient to discover the holes and bugs in the protocols? What do we do with our acquired insight into the architecture of search engines, mobile telephone aesthetics and network culture?
The hard reality once preached by the historic avant-garde is still valid, no matter how disastrous the implementation of utopian programmes may have been. There is an increasing number of artists who have the ambition to sketch the framework of society. They design new rules and do not simply produce cool design. What we must look for are the contemporary variants of Google. This media giant, with internet pioneer and domain name boss Vint Cerf (jointly) at the helm, is a perfect example of how economic, political and cultural power can be built up using technical laws (algorythms). We can do that as well. We have reached the end of a long period in which the workings of power must first be understood and subsequently dismantled. Before we concentrate on open standards, we should open a public debate about this matter. Can the loose networks of today organise themselves in such a way that they set the rules for tomorrow’s communication? Yes We Can: Set the Standard.