How ethical are you about your “googling”?

In a wider discussion of online privacy within an even broader topic of identity, this week I’ve come across a line of thought which brings with it considerations of ethics in online searches.

A couple of discussion points were posed to our class – how often do you google yourself, and how often do you google others. (And no, as it’s a verb, not a noun in this instance, it doesn’t deserve a capital G.) The questions got me thinking about the results of those ‘innocent’ searches, and what I might do if I found something I wasn’t expecting. Then it struck me – is it OK to search for detail of someone else’s life, especially if you have to dig for it?

We all search for information about others on the internet. Whether it’s someone we know from work or school; or someone who has popped up in the local or national media; or someone famous – either “internet-famous”, or otherwise. We’ll look for their dates of birth, seek out info on who they’re shacked up with, what they wear, eat and drink, and where the live. I’d go out on a limb and say everyone with access to an internet search engine has queried at least one of those things, about someone other than themselves, at least once in their internet career. AKA: We All Do It.

The question that hit me – hard – was how would I feel if I knew someone was searching for that level of detail about my life? And what would I be afraid of them finding? Cue search engine frenzy…

This is me folks – no makeup, no lighting, no filters: Me. (Image: My own #ALCSelfie)

I carry a unique name. Not a “pretty unique” or “almost unique” or “a little bit unique” name. Unique. (Which is good: my inner grammar police despise modifiers on the word “unique”; it is, or it isn’t.) I’ve been unable to uncover any other Lara Milvains anywhere on the internet – either historical, or current. If you find me, you find – me. If you’re driven to know more about me, head to my about page here on WordPress; I’ve done the hard yards for you.

To friends, where ‘e-peen‘ matters, I’ve claimed I could “Google for Australia”. I’ve even had a bit of a competition with a friend to see who could be first to find obscure web content. Yes, we were nerds. Bored, possibly two-drinks-too-many nerds. But, hey, whatever floats your boat, right?

As online identities are more and more closely aligned with our work futures – encouraging more and more people to “exist” on the internet, it’s worth thinking about the level of detail provided to any online entity. There’s been some horrendous leaks and hacks – some which had legal consequences for the original holders of the data; but a fine after the fact doesn’t stop the data flowing.

There’s some really sensible guides to “online safety” available – some have commercial tie ins, others are purely altruistic. But it’s worth searching for them, and implementing as much advice as you can while you build your online presence. A great starting point is Google’s own Playing and Staying Safe Online from 2010. It’s cute little 2-minute video, aimed at kids, but it’s just as relevant to adults as it is to them.

But, back to my original train of thought: what if I applied my ‘googling skill’ with nefarious intent? If I set out to discover the address, birth date, credit card number, or other highly personal detail of someone I didn’t really know? And what if I found them? What would I do?

I’m most definitely not the first to raise the question. A 2009 post under the auspices of the International Association of Privacy Professionals considered an almost identical dilemma; or at least, the background searches that can lead to that type of dilemma. Theirs was on a slightly grander scale. It cites an American “educational exercise” which encouraged students to uncover as much personal information as they could about the now-deceased US Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia. Both the IAPP article and the New York Times piece describing the students’ work (and Justice Scalia’s response to it) in more detail are thoughtful reads.

I’d like to think that I’d be nice – ethical – enough to attempt to take any awkward discovery I made and contact my ‘stalkee’. Warn them – let them know they were putting themselves at risk of exposure, or even identity theft. But would I? I’ve never uncovered a trove of personal information a-la a Wikileaks dump, or an Ashley Madison leak, but I am guilty of trawling the latter – “Just In Case”… I can’t give an answer that categorically states how I’d handle that data because I’ve never been faced with the situation. I know how I’d like to behave, but I have no history to bear it witness – so it’s worth pondering.

Happy googling.


The Australian Government’s Online Safety portal
Choice’s comprehensive Online Safety Guide
Popular Mechanics’ Complete Guide to Online Privacy
The basic google search I ran to find the above, with plenty more links
International Association of Privacy Professionals


Black Mirror – Fifteen Million Merits

(and I’m too cheap to pay for an upgrade to get /spoiler tags. Sorry – #studentlife )

Black Mirror. What a disturbing – but fabulous – little show. I’d managed to catch the third season on Netflix last year, and was transfixed by the episode Nosedive from start to end; but I’d not made my way back to the earlier seasons. When Fifteen Million Merits (“15MM” from hereon in, for the sake of my word count) appeared on our ‘homework’ list for ALC203 I was looking forward to it. But I wasn’t prepared for the in-your-face parallels this episode drew.

15MM brilliantly covered topics as broad as copyright infringement, social isolation and the all-pervasive nature of reality TV and the moral choices it offers its viewers. A fellow student also identified in his blog something I’d missed – an almost obsessive spending in a gamified world on cosmetic “upgrades” which have zero function. In fact, that blog entry reminded me that I needed unjumble my thoughts a bit and write this entry for my own good; so – thank you, Zach!

Because of the #studentlife issue mentioned above, I’m going to hide the rest of this behind a “more” tab. 1. I hope it works. And, 2. Please, please read on. And, 3. If you do, I hope it was worth it. Leave me a comment and let me know!

(Also, please lend me a link to a campaign for free /spoiler tags on!)

Continue reading

Copyright, Creative Commons; and us.

Back from the dead! A nasty dose of the flu knocked me silly for about 5 days, so now playing that fun game of catch-up tennis. At least it wasn’t three weeks from now when everything and everyone comes crashing down wanting assessments. Small blessings 🙂

So, this week we’re into copyright and Creative Commons. Stacks of really great info out there about the different licensing conditions that can be applied to works using creative commons. And also on how not to get yourself into trouble.

One thing that struck me was that “traditional” copyright in the online world appears to be a game of publishing something, and then hoping that other people do the ‘right thing’ – asking for permission to reprint, or even just attributing others’ works. In my internet travels I’ve come across *so* many instances of works that are obviously copies of each other – sometimes word for word, or image for image – that it’s apparent that copyright breaches happen with stunning regularity.


CC booth” by Creative Commons HQ is licensed under CC BY 2.0

It’s struck me that Creative Commons is more than just a “licensing system”. It’s a pro-active approach to sharing content. By licensing works under Creative Commons, the author’s intent is clear. They’ve marked their work as available (or not) for commercial use, available for derivative use (or not), or maybe even as a work in the public domain, relinquishing all rights entirely. And that makes it easy to know what to do next if you would like to re-use the work.

Contrast that with the old-fashioned “publish and be hopeful” approach. Although copyright statements appear at the bottom of pretty much every (semi-professional?) web page, they’re on the whole most definitely *not* helpful in working out what to do if you’d like to re-use content. “Copyright Commonwealth of Australia 2015” – for most of the internet, the line is either ignored, or the response seems to be “so what?” It appears a lot of people take that confusion, and turn it into illegal (or at the very least, undesirable) action – and just take what they want.

So, here’s cheers to Creative Commons for helping clear up the sludge, and making it easy to work out what can, and can’t, be done with content on the web. And through their application of standards, leading content producers down a path to recognition, attribution and profit for all involved.

More info:

Creative Commons Australia
Creative Commons
Find something with a Creative Commons license!
Or, try the beta search engine

And now we’re into it: Media Studies 2.0

Some interesting reading this week with David Gauntlett’s Media Studies 2.0 and William Merrin’s Upgrading and open-sourcing the discipline up for digestion.

I’ll admit that a week ago, I’d never come across the term “Media Studies 2.0”. I did “Media Studies” in HSC (ahem… yep, HSC) way back in 1987, and it was a very different beast. Even that subject avoided discussion of media structure, and instead we focussed on a single aspect – media ownership in Australia. I even remember Keith Windschuttle’s The Media being the prescribed (and only) text. And I wrote my year’s assessment in one night; but that’s another tale.

So, first up: Media Studies 2.0, what is this beast? Merrin presents it as an emergent discipline, something which is – or at least should – be moving as fast as the media it is attempting to analyse. Gauntlett provides a characterisation of both 2.0, and 1.0 – and I’m grateful for the comparative information – but in summary says that 2.0 has changed those previously relegated to “audience” into “participants”.

Both argue that rather than being passive consumers of media – an audience “fed” what broadcasters produced – 2.0 has created producers who are also consumers, where once there were only critics. Gauntlett in particular points out that the approaches of 2.0 mean that as “capable producers” students can gain a stronger understanding of the media they would previously only have studied theoretically.

Merrin also points out that modern media – Media 2.0 – has changed so radically that in a lot of cases students outpace their teachers in their knowledge. I’m not yet in that sphere; but I did appreciate enormously Merrin’s blog post where he uses a wonderful analogy to illustrate the speed of change in media in recent years; it tickled me as it informed – I hope it does the same for you:

The result is, for all of us, it’s a struggle even to keep up. Not many disciplines have this problem. I’m fairly certain chemistry lecturers don’t have to turn up to the second half of a lecture and announce that things have just changed: that the bad news is they’ve just found three new elements but the good news is they’ve dropped argon as no-one was using it anymore. Merrin 2006.

Poor argon. Gone the way of MySpace. And as I read, I wondered if “Media Studies” – Media Studies 1.0 – would suffer a similar fate. In the introduction to Merrin’s 2014 book Media Studies 2.0 he captures a line of thought which resulted in me wondering if Media Studies 1.0 – the teaching of the broadcast era structure and theories of the media – is likely close to being shifted in emphasis to that of a historical adjunct; assigned single weekly topic in a unit, or even moved to the modern history department of teaching institutions. Which would be ironic, given that Gauntlett’s summary of “new media” – Media 2.0 – in Media Studies 1.0 is that it was taught as an addon. An approach I summarised as ‘oh yeah, there’s this thing called the internet. It’s gonna be big. Now, back to how radio audiences work’.

Media Studies 2.0 isn’t however, just the study of technologies. It can’t be – it would be a tafe course, or limited to vocational studies (or YouTube instructionals) if it were. Merrin’s acknowledgement that sociology and cultural studies have a part to play widens the field somewhat. We have an enormous number of tools available to us in the new media landscape, but studying those only, without consideration of the wider effects on people, or even civilisation itself would be a folly. Media has changed, and so has the world that uses it. Chicken, or the egg? That’s going to be the most fun thing to work out – which came first.

But then again, I have yet to come to grips with the Media 2.0 landscape technologically; so that’s why I’m here – start there, and work my way up to making descisions about the influential potentials of Media Studies 2.0. Onwards!

‘Distance’ education, the second time around

Timothy Hanlon’s reflections on distance education struck a note with me. His call to educators – and students – to innovate in their teaching and learning is timely and, increasingly, relevant to a growing audience.

This is my second “attempt” at education at a distance. The first, in the early 1990s, was a dismal failure. To be honest, I don’t even remember “stopping” during that attempt; I just remember getting a bit of paper in the mail saying I could re-enrol for another semester, and I never returned it.

And there’s the biggest difference in distance education in the last 20 years – methods of delivery. We *have* come a long, long way.

It’s not just the transmission of information, although that has changed radically. First time around, I waited with baited breath at the mailbox for my course materials.  A printed unit outline, and a chunky reader for each subject, with all the core materials photocopied and pinned together with the biggest staples I’ve seen in my life. Each had a colour-coded cover; blue for business subjects, pink for arts; etc. And a supply of postage-paid envelopes for me to return my essays.

Each assessment piece was a typed effort. If you had a computer – still a rarity in the home back then – hours could be saved by being able to make the types of revisions on the fly that we now take for granted. But for most of us, it was a good old fashioned electric typewriter and some A4 paper. I had the luxury of having access to word processing software at work; one of the lucky ones.

But, by far the biggest difference is in contact with others. In the brief four months since re-commencing study I’ve already had more contact with other students than I did in the year and a half of my previous studies. And far more contact with teaching staff. All of which has been facilitated by technology. I have a question about my unit; flip off an email; last time around, it was make a phone call and hope someone returned it eventually. Timothy reflects on the woeful unit forums provided for each subject at Deakin via its learning management system. Yep, they’re a long way short of even the crudest commercial forum software; but at least we have them!

I support Timothy’s call for educators – and students – to be innovative, to look for and utilise more tools, different tools, to experiment and challenge eachother to communicate differently each time we sit down at the keyboard. But, each person learns differently, and what works for one student may be a dismal failure for others, or their lecturer.

Change can, and should, and from historical example – will – be incoming. But with education being a one-size-fits-all compromise, mindfulness still needs to be given to effectiveness, and the time constraints that pressure everyone into working within the status quo.

Bravo to those with the foresight to throw the 16-page A4 double spaced essay out the window; but for those of us who weren’t born with an iPad in our grip, please give some thought that our discomfort and struggle may not be resistance to change, but a gap in our practical skills. That goes for students and educators alike.

It’s been 20 years since I last attempted distance education, and the change in delivery has been enormous and enormously positive. In another 20 or 30 years, luddites like myself will be gone, and the revolution will be able to commence in earnest, without fear of leaving behind those without the innate technical skills of younger generations.