This may not be popular, but its how I feel. First, some background and disclaimers. I run a small games company making games for the PC, strategy games with an up front payment. We don’t make ‘free to play’ games or have micro transactions. Also, I’m pretty much a capitalist. I am not a big fan of government regulation in general. I am a ‘get rid of red tape’ kind of guy. I actually oppose tax breaks for game development. I am not a friend of regulation. But nevertheless.

I awake this morning to read about this:

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Some background: Star Citizen is a space game. Its being made by someone who made space games years ago, and they ‘crowd-funded’ the money to make this one. The game is way behind schedule, and is of course, not finished yet. They just passed $100,000,000 in money raised. They can do this because individual ships in the game are for sale, even though you bought the game. I guess at this point we could just say ‘A fool and his money are soon parted’, but yet we do not do this with gambling addiction. In fact we some countries have extremely strict laws on gambling, precisely because they know addiction is a thing, and that people need to be saved from themselves.

Can spending money on games be a problem? Frankly yes, and its because games marketing and the science of advertising has changed beyond recognition from when games first appeared. Games ads have often been dubious, and tacky, but the problem is that now they are such a huge business, the stakes are higher, people are prepared to go further. On the fringes we have this crap:

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But in the mainstream, even advertised in prime-time TV spots we have this crap:

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And this stuff works. ‘Game of War’ makes a lot of money. That ad campaign cost them $40,000,000. (Source). Expensive? not when you earn a million dollars A DAY: (Source).

Image2Now if you don’t play games, you might be thinking ‘so what? they must be good games, you are jealous! But no! In fact all the coverage of games like Evony and Game Of War illustrates just how bad they are. They earn so much because the makers of those type of games have an incredibly fine tuned and skillful marketing department bent on psychological manipulation. You think I’m exaggerating? Read this. Some choice quotes:

“We take Facebook stalking to a whole new level. You spend enough money, we will friend you. Not officially, but with a fake account. Maybe it’s a hot girl who shows too much cleavage? That’s us. We learned as much before friending you, but once you let us in, we have the keys to the kingdom.”

Lets think about this for a minute. A company hires people to stalk its customers and befriend them so they can build up a psychological profile of each customer to allow them to extract more money. This is not market research, this is not game design. This is psychological warfare. Lines have been crossed so much we cannot even see them behind us with binoculars. We need to reign this stuff in. Its not just psychological warfare, but warfare where you, the customer, are woefully outgunned, and losing. Some people are losing catastrophically.

You know how much you hate those ads that track you around the internet reminding you of stuff you looked at but didn’t buy? That is amateur hour compared to the crap that some games companies are pulling these days. The problem is, we have NO regulation. AFAIK no law prevents a company stalking its customers on facebook. We live in an age where marketers have already tried using MRI scans on live subjects to test advertising responsiveness. You think you are not manipulated by ads? Get real, read some of the latest books on the topic.We are only a short step away from convincing AI bots that pretend to be our new flirty friends in game that urge us to keep playing, keep upgrading, keep spending.

Modern advertising is so powerful we should be legislating the crap out of this sort of thing. How bad do we let it get before we get some government imposed rules? We are in the early days of mass-population study and manipulation, the days where us, the gamers describe a game as ‘addicting’ as a positive. Maybe it isn’t such a positive after all. Maybe we need to start worrying about if a game is actually good, rather than just ‘addicting’. Maybe we need people to step in and save us from ourselves. We are basically still just hairless apes. We do not possess anything like the self-control or free-will that we think we do.

Like alcohol, gambling, smoking or eating, most of us do not find gaming addictive. Thus we fail to see the problem. it depends how you are wired. See this ‘awards screen’ in company of heroes 2:

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To most of us, thats just silly, and too big, and OTT. But if you suffer from OCD, that can be a BIG BIG problem for you. They KNOW this. Its why it is done. it works. Keep playing kid. keep playing. KEEP PLAYING. This sort of thing doesn’t need to work on everyone. If it works on just 1% and we can get them to spend $1,000 a month on our game (who cares if they can afford it?), then its worth doing.

I hate regulation, but sometimes you need it. Stopping a business dumping waste in a river is a good idea. Stopping companies treating their customers like animals that can be psychologically trapped and exploited is a good idea too. This stuff is too easy. Save us from ourselves.

Hey Friend, been a long time. Usually this would be a conversation I have with you over an instant messaging media. We would argue, because I need to confront my views, and you'll help me to step back a little bit and try to force me to take care of me.

This conversation would probably splitted across several media and people, because this is how I function, in weird ways and without focus.

On the 13th of November, coming back from le Louvres to Saint Denis - where I live - you sent me a SMS asking me if I was safe. I did heard a loud noise from the Stade de France when I was heading out the subway to my home, but since there was a match I just flagged it as "weird noise made by sports fan". I didn't understood why I received this text.

Then, once home. I started a web browser. After receiving half a dozen a tweet of various instance of you, I reassured you by posting that I was home and safe on twitter. And then, with my room-mate and coworker we just thin about the huge amount of work that we would have to do on Monday - and even before that.

I told you, I work in strange ways. I wasn't emotionally affected by the death of 300 people. It's random and I knew no one there. The shooting happened in places I can happen to go, but it's as random as a plane crash (and in fact there's a higher probability to be killed in a plane crash than being hit in a terrorist event).

I checked upon friends (or waited for news)(yeah, I suck at maintaining friendship, I think you're kind of aware of that now) to be sure everyone was mostly safe. And then I waited for the political disaster that will ensure. Until the next Monday I really hoped that our politicians would do something clever, like calling for respect and fraternity and unity.

You called me naïve, but if I'm not that naïve, then I turn cynical. I tried very hard to shut down my inner voices warning me of what would come next. And since you told me that being cynical might hurt you, I try to avoid that. Also it's better for my moral and my depression.

And then our Beloved Socialist President of the Republican Democratic Palpatine ordered the Senate to vote the martial law … Mmm, no, I'm on the wrong movie here. It was the talk of Mr. Hollande in front of the congress - higher and lower chamber gathered at Versailles - when he asserted that we were at war. And that we need to form an alliance with Putin and Assad to fight ISIS. And that we need to extend and modify the State of Emergency, and the Constitution.

This is where I broke up. Syria is still a hard political subject for me. You know that since I talk a lot about it. You even asked me to get diagnosed because I might have some sort of trauma. SO, yes, this is where my emotions finally set me adrift.

What people call emotion wave or surge are - in my case - chaotic tsunamis destroying anything that might be related to reason. That's my poison. That's what will kill me in the end. You're important there, in the fact that you help me resurface in those situation and kind of freeze the emotional disaster.

We talked about it. I see no hope in our current situation. Warrant-less search and warrant-less house arrest; total stop of support of any kind toward the refugees - who already had a hard time; suspension of the right to protest and, more generally, confiscation of the political debate by the politicians - Mr. Valls said that he won't accept any discussion about the incidence of social or economic factor on terrorism; those are what we live on now.

I mean, I'm used to see army in the street of Paris. In fact, I never knew them without troops - the bombing attack of 1995 happened at a time I wasn't that much in Paris and since then troops are always in the street. But now, their in battle suit, helmet and bullet proof vests, way to much weapon for my sanity, etc.

Cops did change also. They weren't on a short leash before, but now they're out for blood and revenge. Usually, even on the few forbidden protests I was at, there's always a way to get out if you ask nicely, they will let you go without hustle - they're basically filtering you to be sure you won't sucker punch them, but in the end you can escape before they arrest everyone. But on the 28th of November, there wasn't such a thing like a possible escape. They wanted to fight.

There was a public announce that unemployment was on the raise just before the COP21. And nothing in the government deemed important to say anything about it. I mean, they're supposed to be socialists for fuck sake. They should at least says that they will work on a new way to count unemployed people, or that they will do something about it. But they only speaks about security. Mr Valls eve stating that "Security if the first of liberty" which, ironically, is a quote made by JM. Le Pen as a slogan for it's presidential elections back in the eighties.

We have a socialist prime minister, defending a security only program, based on pricniple established by the far right movement.

That's about the state of our politics in France. But don't get me wrong, The FN is a bit worse than he PS in that he will actually do what they said they're gonna do, and they plan to cut funding for planed parenthood (which depends largely on regional funding), and other nice stuff.

Politicians wants me to vote to block the National Front, in a national movement aganst fascism. But I won't. I do not see the point on voting for a lack of response to social issues, just for the sake of protecting us against fascism. Politicians who enabled the police state, who are asking for a republican merge, who are saying that young people in teh suburb should cultivate themselves, who plans to bomb people in collaboration with Turkish, Russian and Syrian - all extremely democratic - governments, who reduce democratic life to vote, who won't do a thing about the unemployment, wants my vote to oppose fascism?

You see my dearest friend, you asked me to look on the bright side. But it's more than hard to do that. You told me that bitterness is like Beaujolais Nouveau. You can drink a bit of it, it can even be good - and I disagree on Beaujolais Nouveau being a good wine ever - but too much and it will kills you. Or hurt you.

I don't know.

I work at La Quadrature du Net now. And I really try to avoid the repetitive self destruct pattern that leads me to chain burn out. Me or other staffers. Or you.

During the attacks on the 13th of November, I focused on the solidarity part of it. That's what I'm trying to do. That's why I keep informed on the Syrian situation by following the White Helmets.

But there's something that is absent of our political life in France. We have traditional organisations who covers for themselves without caring about anything else than their way to power: syndicates, political parties. We do have old style NGO, advocating nd lobbying behind the scenes. We have radical groups who are busy fighting cops. But we do not have orgs who works on party. Militantism in France is a serious business. And if you're not working yourself to death you're doing it wrong. ANd you end up without anyone willing to take up the fight, to think on long term strategies, to federate smaller groups who exhausts themselves beyond repair.

And I hear you. I need to focus on the positive sides. So that's what I'm trying to do. There's some good stuff happening. LQDN is finally having a nice and more inclusive community - there's a lot of effort to do, but it's in progress. I'm working there to build tools to bother our deputies - piphone and similar stuff, provide tools to flatten the democratic process. Or at least to help the circulation of information.

And that's my target. You said me that we're in for a long fight. I'm not even sure we can win this fight, and the nihilistic part of me keep thinking that it's useless. But since I try to not killing myself, I need something. If I can bother an intelligence officer, a head of office somewhere, deputies or senators, ministers or head of state that's a win.

If, when they see us, in the press, or elsewhere, or when they hear about us those people think "Oh no … not them again … my day is now ruined" then, it's a win. It won't makes them stop doing shit, but at least, I'll smile when thinking about all the pain they'll get.

And in the meantime, we should try harder working with other small organisation specialised in other aspect of the fight. There's a lot to do with queers, feminists, ant racist groups. And I really think that's where I can help - beyond the purely technical point.

So, you see, I'm trying to stop sipping the bitterness part of things. It's hard 'cause I've turned cynical/realist. And because I love the bitterness. But you're right. I should stop drinking it.

I'm happy you're here. Because at least I can talk to you. And there's here also. This post is fucked up, and makes no sense. But I think it's a bit like what's the political life looks like. Socialist calling voters to vote for traditionalists.

It's fucked up. But I'm gonna ignore that, because it's useless and I can't spend any more energy on that. I'll focus on building things.

Thanks for still being here.

D’abord, un chiffre pour remettre les pendules à l’heure : 91%. C’est le pourcentage de français qui n’a pas voté pour le FN1. Moins d’un français sur 10 a donné une voix à ce parti. Et de fait, que le FN soit « le premier parti de France » n’est pas en soi le symbole d’une droitisation ou d’une radicalisation rampante de la société français. C’est le symbole de la mort de la démocratie représentative, le signe ultime que celle-ci ne représente plus rien ni personne.

Hier, je n’ai pas voté. Je n’irai pas plus dimanche prochain. Ami votant2, je sais que, probablement, tu me méprises, tu as envie de me hurler dessus, de me dire que c’est honteux, que des gens sont morts pour que je puisse voter, qu’à cause de moi le fascisme pourrait s’installer. Je ne t’en veux pas, j’étais pareil il y a à peine 4 ans.

Les étapes du deuil

Tu connais peut-être les 5 étapes du deuil de Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. Ça n’a pas forcément une grande valeur scientifique, mais ça permet de schématiser certains mécanismes émotionnels. Laisse-moi te les énoncer :

Déni
Colère
Marchandage
Dépression
Acceptation
Ami votant, je sais déjà que tu as dépassé le stade du déni : tu sais pertinemment que la démocratie représentative est morte. Sinon, tu voterais pour des idées qui te correspondent, tu voterais pour faire avancer la société, pour donner ton avis sur la direction à prendre. Mais tu ne fais pas cela : au contraire, tu votes « utile », tu votes pour faire barrage à un parti, tu votes pour « le moins pire ». C’est déjà un aveu que le système est mort.

En fait, tu oscilles entre les étapes 2 et 3. Entre la colère envers un système qui se fout de ta gueule, la colère contre les abstentionnistes qui ne jouent pas le jeu… et le marchandage. « Allez, si je vote pour le moins pire, système, tu continues à vivoter ? Allez, peut-être que si on vote PS cette fois, il fera une vraie politique de gauche ? Allez système, tu veux pas continuer à faire semblant de marcher un peu si je fais des concessions de mon côté ? Si je mets mes convictions de côté, tu veux bien ne pas être totalement lamentable ? »

Encore une fois, je comprends le principe, j’étais au même point lors des dernières élections présidentielles. J’appelais les gens à voter, je critiquais les abstentionnistes qui se permettaient de se plaindre alors que, merde, ils n’avaient pas pris la peine de faire leur devoir de citoyen. Je savais pertinemment que le PS au pouvoir ne ferait aucun miracle, que fondamentalement rien ne changerait par rapport à l’UMP, à part à la marge. Mais il fallait bien choisir le moins pire. La démocratie représentative était déjà morte, je le savais. Le vote utile, on nous le rabâchait depuis avant même que j’ai le droit de vote. Sans parler du référendum de 2005 où ça sentait déjà fort le sapin. Mais je n’avais pas terminé mon deuil. Et puis Hollande est passé.

Les derniers coups de pelle

Je ne pourrais jamais assez remercier François Hollande. Il m’a aidé à terminer mon deuil. En me renvoyant ma voix en pleine figure, en m’appuyant bien profondément la tête dans les restes puants et décomposés de notre système politique. Le quinquennat de François Hollande aura été la plus parfaite, la plus magnifique démonstration que le vote est une arnaque et que le pouvoir du peuple est une immense illusion. Le changement, c’est maintenant ! Rappelle-toi, le PS avait tous les pouvoirs en 2012 : la présidence, l’Assemblée, les villes, les régions… merde, même le Sénat était passé à gauche ! Une première ! Les types avaient les mains libres et carte blanche pour tout. Il fallait écouter Copé, la pleureuse « profondément choquée », nous expliquer l’énorme danger que représentaient ces pleins pouvoirs. Lutter contre la finance ? Imposer les revenus du capital comme ceux du travail ? Interdire le cumul des mandats ?

LOL NOPE.

Au lieu de ça, nous aurons eu la même merde qu’avant. Parfois en pire. Course à la croissance alors même que nous produisons déjà trop pour la planète. Course au plein emploi alors que le travail est condamné à disparaître (ce qui, je le rappelle, devrait être une bonne nouvelle). Course à la productivité alors que les syndromes d’épuisement professionnel se multiplient et que le mal-être des travailleurs se généralise. Diminution de ce qu’on nous matraque comme étant « le coût du travail » mais qu’un employé sensé devrait comprendre comme « mon niveau de vie ». Détricotage méthodique des services publics qui devraient au contraire être renforcés.

Nous n’attendions rien de Hollande, il a réussi à faire pire. Des lois liberticides au nom d’une sécurité qu’elles ne garantiront même pas. Un État d’Urgence à durée indéterminée. Des militants assignés à résidence pour leurs convictions. Des manifestations politiques interdites. Des gamins mis en garde à vue parce qu’ils ne respectent pas une minute de silence. Heureusement que c’est sous un parti qui se dit « républicain » que tout cela se passe, sinon, on pourrait doucement commencer à s’inquiéter.

Vous me traitez d’irresponsable parce que je n’ai pas été voter dimanche ? Moi je me trouve irresponsable d’avoir légitimité notre gouvernement actuel en votant en 2012. Depuis 2012, j’ai fait comme beaucoup de monde : j’ai traversé le stade 4, celui de la dépression. À me dire que nous étions définitivement foutus, que même lorsqu’un parti qui se disait en opposition totale avec le précédent se vautrait à ce point dans la même politique insupportable, il n’y avait plus de solution. Que la démocratie était morte, et que nous allions crever avec elle. Ami votant, admets-le, tu as eu la même réaction. Mais comme toujours, à chaque vote, tu régresses, tu retournes à l’étape 3, au marchandage, à te dire que peut-être, on pourra incliner un peu le système en s’asseyant sur nos convictions.

Moi, j’ai passé le cap. Je suis à l’étape 5, à l’acceptation. La démocratie représentative est morte, point. Que cela soit une bonne chose ou non, l’avenir le dira, mais le fait demeure : ce système est mort. Tu penses que retourner à l’étape de marchandage, c’est garder de l’espoir et qu’accepter la mort de notre système, c’est le désespoir. Je ne suis pas d’accord. Faire son deuil, c’est bien. C’est même nécessaire pour passer à autre chose et, enfin, avancer.

La démocratie est morte, vive la démocratie !

Tu remarqueras que je persiste à ajouter « représentative » quand je parle de mort de la démocratie. Parce que je ne crois pas que la démocratie elle-même soit morte : je pense que la démocratie réelle n’a jamais vécu en France. Le système dans lequel nous vivons se rapproche plus d’une « aristocratie élective » : nous sélectionnons nos dirigeants dans un panel d’élites autoproclamées qui ne change jamais, là où la démocratie voudrait que les citoyens soient tour à tour dirigeants et dirigés. Le simple fait que l’on parle de « classe politique » est le déni même de la notion de représentation qui est censée faire fonctionner notre démocratie représentative : la logique voudrait que ces politiciens soient issus des mêmes classes qu’ils dirigent. Attention, ne crachons pas dans la soupe, notre système est bien mieux qu’une dictature, à n’en pas douter. Mais ça n’est pas une démocratie. Je te renvoie à ce sujet à ce documentaire, J’ai pas voté, que tout le monde devrait voir avant de sauter à la gorge des abstentionnistes.

Des gens sont morts pour qu’on puisse voter ? Non, ils sont morts parce qu’ils voulaient donner au peuple le droit à s’autodéterminer, parce qu’ils voulaient la démocratie. Est-ce qu’on pense sérieusement, en voyant la grande foire à neuneu que sont les campagnes électorales, que c’est pour cela que des gens sont morts ? Pour que des guignols cravatés paradent pendant des semaines pour que nous allions tous, la mort dans l’âme, désigner celui dont on espère qu’il nous entubera le moins ? Je trouve ce système bien plus insultant pour la mémoire des combattants de la démocratie que l’abstention.

Alors oui, j’ai fait mon deuil, et ça me permet d’avoir de l’espoir pour la suite. Parce que pendant que la grande imposture politicarde se poursuit sur les plateaux-télé, nous, citoyens de tous bords, essayons de trouver des solutions. Plus le temps passe, plus le nombre de gens ayant terminé leur deuil augmente, plus ces gens s’intéressent réellement à la politique et découvrent des idées nouvelles, politiques et sociétales : tirage au sort, mandats uniques et non-renouvelables, revenu de base, etc. Des solutions envisageables, des morceaux de savoir, de culture politique… de l’éducation populaire, en somme. Rien ne dit que ces solutions fonctionneront, mais tout nous dit que le système actuel ne fonctionne pas. Et lorsque ce système s’effondrera, ce sera à ces petits morceaux de savoir disséminés un peu partout dans la population qu’il faudra se raccrocher. L’urgence aujourd’hui, c’est de répandre ces idées pour préparer la suite. Ami votant, tu as tout à gagner à nous rejoindre, parce que tu as de toute évidence une conscience politique et qu’elle est gâchée, utilisée pour te battre contre des moulins à vent.

Notre système est un vieil ordinateur à moitié déglingué. Tu peux continuer d’imaginer qu’en réinstallant le même logiciel (PS ou LR, choisis ton camp camarade), il finira par fonctionner. D’autres utilisent la bonne vieille méthode de la claque sur la bécane (le vote FN) : on sait bien que ça ne sert à rien et que ça ne va certainement pas améliorer l’état de l’ordi, mais ça soulage. Certains imaginent qu’en déboulonnant l’Unité Centrale et en hackant petit à petit le système, on finira par faire bouger les choses (la députée Isabelle Attard est un bon exemple, personnellement je la surnomme l’outlier, la donnée qui ne rentre pas dans le modèle statistique du politicien). Ce n’est pas la pire des idées. On a même parlé de rebooter la France. Qui sait, si on arrive à mettre sur pied une telle stratégie en 2017, possible que je ressorte ma carte d’électeur du placard. Mais les plus nombreux, les abstentionnistes, ont laissé tomber le vieil ordinateur et cherchent juste à en trouver un nouveau qui fonctionne.

Alors on fait quoi ? Soyons clairs, je suis comme tout le monde, je n’ai aucune idée de la manière dont on peut passer à autre chose, pour instaurer une vraie démocratie. Une transition démocratique pourrait s’opérer en douceur en modifiant les institutions petit à petit : tout le monde aurait à y gagner. Politiciens compris, car l’alternative est peut-être l’explosion, et c’est une alternative à l’issue très incertaine. Mais clairement, nous ne prenons pas la direction d’une transition non-violente.

Je continue pour ma part à penser que, comme le disait Asimov, « la violence est le dernier refuge de l’incompétence ». Mais nous constatons chaque jour un peu plus notre impuissance dans ce système, et les politiciens actuels seraient bien avisés de corriger le tir avant qu’il ne soit trop tard. Avant que les citoyens ne se ruent dans ce dernier refuge.

En lisant le livre de Bernard Stiegler, « Aimer, s’aimer, nous aimer » (Galilée, 2003), on peut ressentir un sentiment de découragement.

Le philosophe explique dans son livre que les électeurs FN sont, comme beaucoup d’entre nous dans cette société malade, victimes de troubles narcissiques. Pour s’en sortir, ils ont la particularité de désigner des boucs émissaires. C’est un symptôme, une façon d’évacuer le mal-être.

Il est impossible de discuter avec des troubles et des symptômes (seuls les psys savent faire). Les journalistes peuvent donc continuer à s’agiter, à « fact-checker », à enquêter, à essayer de comprendre à coups de portraits, ils n’ont aucune prise sur rien, me suis-je dit.

Je suis allée demander à Bernard Stiegler ce que la presse peut et doit faire au lendemain des élections européennes, qui ont vu le FN atteindre le score de 25% des votants.

Une conférence, ce samedi
Ars Industrialis, le groupe de travail de Bernard Stiegler, organise une conférence ce samedi baptisée « Extrême nouveauté, extrême désenchantement, extrême droite ». La réunion aura lieu au Théâtre Gérard Philipe à Saint-Denis (Seine-Saint-Denis), de 14 heures à 18 heures. L'entrée est gratuite.

Rue89 : Dans « Aimer, s’aimer, nous aimer », vous dites que les électeurs FN souffrent d’un défaut de « narcissisme primordial ». Dès lors, peuvent-ils changer d’avis comme une personne rationnelle ?

Bernard Stiegler : Je parle avec des gens du Front national, il y en a même que j’aime bien. Je vous le dis très franchement : certains sont plutôt sympathiques. La plupart ne sont pas des racistes ou des antisémites, mais des gens très malheureux. Mais pour votre question, la réponse est non. Je n’essaye jamais de les dissuader de voter pour le Front national. Plus j’essaierais de le faire, et plus ils voteraient pour le Front national. C’est complètement inutile.

C’est d’autant plus inefficace que, pour une part, ils n’ont pas tort d’exprimer une souffrance. Le paranoïaque, le psychotique, le névrotique ne racontent jamais que des bêtises. Il y a toujours un fond de vérité. Le problème, c’est que ce fond de vérité qui devient pathologique exprime une maladie qui n’est pas seulement celle de ces électeurs : c’est celle de notre société.

Ce qui est spécifique dans la pathologie des électeurs du Front national, c’est que par leur vote, qu’ils le veuillent ou non, ils s’en prennent à des boucs émissaires.

Comment avez-vous compris ce qui les faisait souffrir ?

Je parle, dans le livre que vous citez, de Richard Durn [responsable de la tuerie du conseil municipal de Nanterre en 2002, ndlr]. Je me suis intéressé au sujet après avoir lu un extrait de son journal intime cité dans Le Monde et dans lequel Durn disait « avoir perdu le sentiment d’exister ». Ces mots m’ont énormément frappé. Moi aussi j’ai parfois le sentiment de ne pas exister. Et moi aussi je suis passé à l’acte : j’ai braqué des banques...

En lisant l’article, je me suis dit que ce type était extrêmement dangereux, mais qu’on était des millions comme lui. Et je me suis dit qu’un jour, les gens qui perdent le sentiment d’exister, de plus en plus nombreux, voteraient pour le Front national au lieu de tuer des gens ou de braquer des banques.

J’ai été scandalisé par l’attitude d’Eva Joly, au lendemain du premier tour de l’élection présidentielle, qui a qualifié le score du Front national de « tâche indélébile sur les valeurs de la démocratie ». Ce sont des propos honteux.

Comment expliquer cette liquidation du narcissisme primordial ?

Elle vient de l’organisation illimitée de la consommation via le marketing et la télévision. Vous avez vu le film « Le Festin de Babette » ? C’est une histoire magnifique : une Française qui vit au Danemark décide de faire un repas immense, somptuaire. Le film raconte la préparation de ce repas coûteux par une personne modeste, et c’est extraordinaire.

Quand j’étais enfant, le repas du dimanche avait beaucoup d’importance. Il était courant dans les classes populaires de faire des festins, comme Gervaise et son oie dans « L’Assommoir ». Il est très important de recevoir, de se rassembler.

C’est ce que le consumérisme a concrètement détruit : il n’y a que du prêt-à-porter, du prêt-à-manger – de la malbouffe et plus de fête.

Comment faire réaliser aux électeurs du FN que cette souffrance est déconnectée du chiffre de l’immigration ?

Cela ne sert à rien de leur dire : ils ne l’entendront jamais. Précisément, ils entendent autre chose si vous leur dites cela. Ils entendent que vous n’avez pas écouté leur problème. Et ils ont raison. S’en prendre à un bouc émissaire [ce que Bernard Stiegler nomme un « pharmakos », dans « Pharmacologie du Front national », Flammarion, 2013, ndlr] est un symptôme. C’est un symptôme horrifique, extrêmement dangereux, et le nazisme est l’exploitation de ce symptôme à l’échelle cauchemardesque du XXe siècle. Une telle horreur peut tout à fait revenir – c’est même plus que probable : si rien de décisif ne se passe, c’est ce qui finira par arriver. Et cela dépend de nous que cela n’arrive pas – mais ce n’est pas en insultant les électeurs du FN que cela s’arrangera.

Il est totalement vain de dire aux gens d’arrêter de symptomatiser : il faut les soigner, je veux dire prendre soin d’eux (au sens que j’ai donné à ce mot dans « Prendre soin »), s’occuper d’eux, leur donner des perspectives, leur tenir un autre discours que celui de François Hollande et de Nicolas Sarkozy...

Comment les journalistes peuvent-ils participer à ces soins ?

Je pense qu’il est urgent que la presse reprenne son rôle, qui est de défendre des idées, de les faire se confronter, et par là, de construire des opinions. Cela veut dire faire des choix politiques, esthétiques, intellectuels, sociaux, etc. – et les assumer. Le Monde diplomatique continue de faire ce travail, et c’est pourquoi je ne manque jamais l’occasion de le lire, même s’il m’énerve souvent.

Aujourd’hui, la désespérance est le fond de commerce du Front national. Pour redonner de l’espoir, il faut donner la parole à ceux qui ont quelque chose à dire et qui sont prêts au débat public – et par là reconstruire une pensée, des concepts et des perspectives, et les socialiser.

L’idée que les gens ne veulent pas penser est totalement fausse : quand le Collège de France a mis en ligne ses cours, des millions d’heures de cours ont été téléchargées. Ars Industrialis, qui fait des conférence souvent difficiles, a une très large audience. Ce que les gens refusent n’est pas la pensée : c’est la langue de bois, d’où qu’elle vienne.

Si le capitalisme consumériste s’effondre et qu’il n’y a pas ce travail d’invention d’une alternative à ce qui fut la base de ce consumérisme, à savoir le fordo-keynésianisme (la « croissance »), et qui s’est définitivement épuisé, l’extrême droite s’imposera partout – bien au-delà de la France et de l’Europe.

Vous pensez que c’est sur le point d’arriver ?

Dans les années 80, il s’est passé quelque chose de très important. Il y a eu la « révolution conservatrice », fondée sur l’idée qu’il valait mieux liquider l’Etat et financiariser le capitalisme en laissant la production se développer hors de l’Occident – et cela a été le début du chômage de masse.

Cette liquidation a créé une insolvabilité de masse dissimulée par les systèmes de subprimes et de « credit default swap » très profitables aux spéculateurs mais ruineux pour l’économie, un hyperconsumérisme extrêmement toxique sur le plan environnemental, une grande misère symbolique sur le plan mental, et une précarisation généralisée provoquant un sentiment d’insécurité bien réelle et une désintégration sociale.

Cette désintégration rend impossible l’intégration non pas des immigrés, mais de la population elle-même dans son ensemble, les immigrés y étant exposés plus que tous évidemment.

La crise de 2008 a mis au clair cette insolvabilité et cette fragilité extrême et structurelle. Et elle a ruiné durablement la confiance – ce à quoi Snowden mais aussi Fukushima et bien d’autres catastrophes ont ajouté leurs effets.

Un système économique ne peut pas fonctionner sans confiance – et il n’y a plus de confiance. Comment peut-il y en avoir quand 55% des jeunes Espagnols sont au chômage et que tout le monde s’en moque – cependant que l’automatisation est en train réduire l’emploi dans tous les secteurs et dans tous les pays ? Qui a parlé de tout cela au cours de la campagne sur
l’Europe ?

Les caissières disparaissent...

Oui, on n’a plus besoin de caissière, et on n’aura bientôt plus besoin de chauffeurs de camion – ni de nombreux techniciens, ingénieurs, etc. Ce qui est en train d’advenir, c’est la disparition de l’emploi. Pas un mot de cette question dans le tout récent rapport Pisani-Ferry si j’en crois la presse – pas plus que dans le rapport Gallois d’il y a presque deux ans déjà... Que de temps perdu ! Et que de fureur accumulée !

L’automatisation va se développer désormais massivement, notamment parce que le numérique permet d’intégrer toutes sortes d’automatismes jusqu’alors isolés, et qu’il en résulte une baisse rapide du coût des robots.

Jeff Bezos, le patron d’Amazon, est en train d’en installer partout dans tous ses entrepôts. Arnaud Montebourg a annoncé il y a un an qu’il allait lancer un plan de robotique française.

Le coût de l’automatisation va diminuer, et les PME françaises vont de plus en plus pouvoir s’y engager – même si elle ne le veulent pas, en raison de la concurrence, et le chômage va monter en flêche. Il n’y a qu’une solution pour contrer la montée proportionnelle du FN, c’est de créer une alternative au modèle keynésien : un modèle contributif.

Pouvez-vous donner un exemple concret de modèle contributif ?

Dans l’économie contributive, il n’y a plus de salariat ni de propriété industrielle au sens classique. Pour vous donner un exemple, j’ai travaillé il y a quelques années avec des étudiants stylistes sur un modèle d’entreprise de mode contributive. L’entreprise devenait un club d’amateurs de mode, dont certains contribuaientt par des idées, d’autres par des achats, d’autres par un travail de confection, d’autres par tout cela à la fois ou alternativement.

A son époque lointaine, devenue aujourd’hui mythique et totalement révolue, la Fnac était une sorte de coopérative où les vendeurs étaient d’abord des passionnés de musique ou de photo, et où les adhérents de la Fnac n’étaient pas des consommateurs, mais des amateurs.

Il y a des gens qui s’expriment extrêmement bien dans leur façon de s’habiller. Ils ont du goût, ils savent agencer des vêtements. Je pense que leur savoir peut être partagé et valorisé.

Et comment seraient-ils rémunérés ?

Ce n’est pas à l’échelle micro-économique de la firme qu’il faut poser et résoudre ce problème : c’est une question de macro-économie qui doit dépasser le couple valeur d’usage/valeur d’échange, et promouvoir ce que nous appelons valeur pratique (c’est-à-dire savoirs) et valeur sociétale (c’est-à-dire qui renforce fonctionnellement la solidarité).

C’est la valorisation mutuelle et par une puissance publique réinventée de ce qu’Amartya Sen appelle les « capabilités » – c’est-à-dire les savoir-faire, les savoir-vivre et les savoirs formels – qui constitue la base d’une économie contributive. C’est en fait la généralisation du modèle des intermittents du spectacle, qui cultivent leurs savoirs avec l’aide de leur revenu intermittent et qui les valorisent lorsqu’ils entrent en production, et que l’on voudrait détruire au moment même où il faudrait en généraliser l’état d’esprit si intelligent.

J’y reviens, quel rôle peut jouer la presse dans cette réflexion sur le modèle économique actuel ?

D’abord, elle-même devrait inventer, pour elle-même, de tels dispositifs contributifs. Le fonds d’aide à la presse devrait servir à cela, et les journalistes devraient se battre pour cela. Ensuite, il faut que la presse parle de l’automatisation et plus généralement du numérique en un sens approfondi et non « tendance » ou dans la rubrique « geek », et qu’elle ne soit pas dans le déni. L’automatisation vient, il faut l’assumer, et arrêter de dire qu’on va inverser la courbe du chômage. Celui-ci va considérablement augmenter.

Toutes sortes de gens réfléchissent à des scénarios qui permettraient d’entrer dans un nouveau monde – en Amérique latine par exemple, mais aussi en Amérique du Nord. Il faut leur donner la parole. Et il faut solliciter l’intelligence des lecteurs plutôt que de présupposer qu’ils ne recherchent que le scoop ou l’information sensationnelle et vulgaire.

Désormais, le FN se présente aussi comme l’un de ces scénarios alternatifs à l’ultralibéralisme...

Oui, c’est très malin. Ce matin, j’ai eu la grande surprise de lire une déclaration de Florian Philippot [vice-président du Front national, ndlr] qui défendait la grève de la SNCF dans Libération, au nom du service public. Imaginez le désarroi des syndicalistes de la CGT et de SUD.

Le Front national, c’est une idéologie ultralibérale déguisée en anti-ultralibéralisme. Jean-Marie Le Pen est un ultralibéral. Il l’a toujours dit, et il l’est plus que jamais. Il est absolument contre l’Etat, contre les fonctionnaires.

Quant à Marine Le Pen, quoiqu’elle dise, elle a besoin de l’ultralibéralisme pour se développer : c’est son terreau parce que ce qui attire chez elle ses électeurs et la désignation de boucs émissaires, ce qui provoque cette recherche de boucs émissaires est l’ultralibéralisme au service du capitalisme financiarisé pulsionnel et spéculatif. Qu’est-ce que le FN ? C’est le grand spécialiste des inversions de causalités.

Le FN vit sur l’idée que la souffrance est attribuable aux immigrés parce que personne n’a le courage de fournir les vrais schémas de causalité nouveaux qui s’imposent.

Le FN distille la peur en parlant des milliers de Mohamed Merah en latence. Mais ces jeunes qui partent en Syrie ne souffrent-ils pas du même trouble narcissique que les électeurs du FN ?

Bien entendu. J’ai appelé cela le complexe d’Antigone. « Antigone » est un texte absolument fondamental.

Je soutiens que les terroristes intégristes, beurs ou blancs, nés et élevés en France, qui d’un seul coup, se mettent à devenir musulmans, sont des petites Antigone. Je ne veux pas les défendre en disant cela. Ce que je veux dire, c’est qu’un adolescent a besoin de sublimer – et de le faire comme toujours « au nom de la loi ». Antigone est une adolescente qui défend la « loi divine ». Merah est aussi un adolescent.

Ces mômes-là, à un moment, ont besoin de s’identifier à leur père, puis à une figure de rupture avec le père qu’ils accusent alors de ne pas incarner correctement et sincèrement la loi. Ils cherchent alors d’autres figures identificatoires. Mais s’ils ne trouvent plus de possibilité d’identification dans la société, et s’ils vivent dans une société qui est en train de s’effondrer, ils sont prêts pour s’engager dans ce que j’ai appelé une sublimation négative – qui peut conduire au pire. Ce sont là encore des symptômes.

Vous pouvez faire tout ce que vous voulez, cela se développera encore longtemps et inévitablement si la société ne produit pas vite des capacités nouvelles d’identification positive sur des idées républicaines, constructives et vraiment porteuses d’avenir.

My flight from Athens where I had the pleasure to attend the first “reproducible world summit” landed at the scheduled time in Paris (CDG). While people were getting their bags and putting their coats on, one member of the cabin crew announced that a police control will take place outside the plane and that we should have ready identity documents. My seat was in the back of the plane, so I had time to wait in the cold of the jetway while all passengers were controlled one after the other.

Three cops were set up right at the entrance of the terminal. One was taking cards or passports and looking at people's face. He then passed it to another cop in front of a suitcase that seemed to contain a scanner and a computer. The third one was just standing against the wall watching. When it was my turn, after scanning my passport, the cop had this nice gesture where she started to move her hand holding the passport toward me —just like she had just did a hundred times—before pulling it backward when the result appeared on the screen.

I had the confirmation that I was registered as a dangerous political activist in 2012 when David Dufresne published Magasin Général. One report from the interior intelligence service from 2008 was leaked to promote the book. My name had not been properly redacted from the very first version that went online and was associated with a political self-organized space in Dijon. Some Debian Developers had the pleasure to visit that space in 2005, 2006, or 2007. The report was full of mistakes, like almost all police files, so I don't want to comment on it.

The good news is that since then, I have stopped being paranoid. I knew, and thus could take appropriate precautions. Just like every time I have to approach an airport, all my (encrypted) electronic devices were turned off. I had shaved a couple hours before. I know a lawyer ready to represent me. I am fully aware that it's best to say as little as possible.

Although it has been a while since I had such a blatant confirmation that I was still a registered anarchist. It should not be a surprise though. Once you are in, there's no way out.

I was then asked to step aside while they proceeded with the rest of the queue. I put my backpack down and leaned against the wall. Once they were over, one of the cops asked me to follow him. We walked through the corridors to reach the office of the border police. While we were walking, they asked me a series of questions. I'm not mentioning the pauses in between, but here's what I can remember:

— Do you have a connection?
— No.
— Are you going to Paris?
— To my parents' in the suburbs.
— How long have you been staying in Greece?
— 5 days.
— flipping the pages of my passport And you come back from the U.S. in Feb. 2015?
— No, that was the maximum stay. I was there in August 2014.
— Why were you in Greece? Vacations?
— Work. I was at a meeting.
— What do you do?
— Free software.
— What is that?
— I am a developper.
— Oh, computers.
— Yes.
— Is that why you also were in the US?
— Yes, it was another conference.
— And so you travel because of that. That's nice.
— …
— Are you a freelancer?
— I work with a coop, but yes.

The cop also commented that they had to do some simple checks and that they would then let me go as I was coming back. I did not trust this but said nothing.

When then passed through a door where the cop had to use their badge to unlock it. I was asked to sit on a chair in the corridor between two offices (as far as I could see). I could hear one cop explaining the situation to the next: “— Il a une fiche. — Ah, une fiche.” They seemed quite puzzled that I was not controlled when I flew out on Monday.

After some minutes, another cop came back asking me for my boarding pass. Some more minutes later, he came back asking me if the address on my passport was still valid. I replied “no”. They gave me a piece of paper asking me for my current address, a phone number and an email address. As these information are all easy to find, I thought it was easier to comply. I gave my @irq7.fr address that I use for all public administrations. When the cop saw it, he asked:

— What is it?
— I don't understand.
— Is it your company?
— It is a non-profit.

He gave me my passport back and showed me the way out.

(I will spare you details on the discussion I had to listen while waiting between two cops about how one loved to build models of military weapons used in wars against communism because of his origins. And that he was pissed off because fucking Europe disallowed some (toxic) paints he was used to.)

To the best of my understanding, what happened is that they made a phone call and were just asked to update my personal details by the intelligence service.

I don't know, but I'm left to wonder if all these people might just have been controlled because I was on the flight.

All-in-all this didn't take too long: one hour after leaving the plane I was on the platform for the regional trains. The cops stayed polite the whole time. I am privileged: French citizen, white, able to speak French with a teacher accent. I am pretty sure it would have not been that good if I had been displaying a long beard or a djellaba.

I took the time to document this because I know too many people who think that what the French government is doing doesn't concern them. It does. It's been a couple of years now that antiterrorism is how governments keep people in check. But we are reaching a whole new level now. We are talking about cops keeping their guns while off duties, house searches at any hours without judge oversight, and the government wants to change the constitution to make the “state of emergency” permanent. We've seen so many abuses in just two weeks. It will not go well. Meanwhile, instead of asking themselves why young people are killing others and themselves, state officials prefer dropping bombs. Which will surely prevent people ready to die from using suicidal tactics, right?

We are at the dawn of an environmental crisis that will end humanity. Every human on this planet is concerned. People get beaten up when they march to pressure governments to do something about it. We need to unite and resist. And yes, we are going to get hurt but freedom is not free.

Hackerspace & lieu de vie à Lanzarote.

Couchsurfing for Hackers, by Hackers

Dans La Médiocratie (Lux), le philosophe Alain Deneault critique la médiocrité d’un monde où tout n’est plus fait que pour satisfaire le marché. Entretien.
“Les médiocres sont de retour dans la vallée fertile”, déclarait aux Inrocks le journaliste Daniel Mermet lors de son éviction de France Inter, en juin 2014. Le philosophe Alain Deneault, considérant la conjoncture globale, va plus loin : “Il n’y a eu aucune prise de la Bastille, rien de comparable à l’incendie du Reichstag, et l’Aurore n’a encore tiré aucun coup de feu. Pourtant, l’assaut a bel et bien été lancé et couronné de succès : les médiocres ont pris le pouvoir”. C’est cette révolution silencieuse qu’il analyse de long en large dans La Médiocratie (Lux), un livre coup de poing. De passage à Paris, cet enseignant en science politique à l’Université de Montréal nous explique le fond de sa pensée. Entretien.

Comment les médiocres ont-ils pris le pouvoir selon vous ? Depuis quand est-il valorisé d’être moyen ?

Alain Deneault – La généalogie de cette prise de pouvoir a deux branches. L’une remonte au XIXe siècle, à l’époque où on a transformé progressivement les “métiers” en “emplois”. Cela supposait une standardisation du travail, c’est-à-dire qu’on en fasse une chose moyenne. On a généré une sorte de moyenne standardisée, requise pour organiser le travail à grande échelle sur le mode aliénant que l’on sait, et qui a été décrit par Marx. On a fait de ce travail moyen quelque chose de désincarné, qui perd du sens, et qui n’est plus qu’un “moyen” pour le capital de croître, et pour les travailleurs de subsister.

L’autre versant de cette prise de pouvoir réside dans la transformation de la politique en culture de la gestion. L’abandon progressif des grands principes, des orientations et de la cohérence au profit d’une approche circonstancielle, où n’interviennent plus que des “partenaires” sur des projets bien précis sans qu’intervienne la notion de bien commun, a conduit à faire de nous des citoyens qui “jouent le jeu”, qui se plient à toutes sortes de pratiques étrangères aux champs des convictions, des compétences et des initiatives. Cet art de la gestion est appelé “gouvernance”.

Ces deux phénomènes ont amené des penseurs au XXe siècle à constater que la médiocrité n’était plus une affaire marginale, qui concernait des gens peu futés qui arrivaient à se rendre utiles, mais qu’elle faisait désormais système. En tant que professeur, qu’administrateur, qu’artiste, on est obligé de se plier à des modalités hégémoniques pour subsister.

Au niveau politique, cela a pour conséquence que chaque sujet est analysé sous l’angle du problem solving. Ce qui se passe en France en ce moment est emblématique : en réponse aux attaques terroristes, on bombarde, on répond par une stratégie de la solution au sens chirurgical du terme, alors qu’il faudrait prendre du recul et être plus subtil.

L’avènement de la médiocratie est-il à lier à la révolution libérale qui a eu lieu dans les années 80, au conformisme dans les entreprises et à la mise au pas du monde du travail qui en a découlé ?

Oui, et c’est d’autant plus vrai que la gouvernance mis en place par les technocrates de Margaret Thatcher a transformé l’ultralibéralisme en une approche réaliste. L’option du néolibéralisme n’est plus une option, mais quelque chose d’aussi normal que de respirer. La gouvernance a réussi à déguiser l’idéologie ultralibérale en savoir, en mode de vie en société, comme si c’était le socle à partir duquel on devrait délibérer, alors que ça devrait être l’objet de la délibération.

Désormais on ne parle plus du bien commun, on fait comme si l’intérêt général n’était plus que la somme d’intérêts particuliers que les uns et les autres sont ponctuellement invités à défendre. On est amené à n’être plus que le petit lobbyiste de ses intérêts privés, ou de ses intérêts de clan. C’est à partir de là que la culture du grenouillage, des arrangement douteux, se développe.

Selon vous “l’expert est la figure centrale de la médiocratie”. Comment expliquez-vous ce paradoxe ?

L’expert ne se contente pas de rendre disponible un savoir auprès de gens qui délibèrent. Il est un idéologue qui déguise son discours d’intérêt en savoir. A l’université, un étudiant devra désormais se demander au cours de son orientation s’il veut devenir expert ou intellectuel, sachant que l’expertise consistera surtout à vendre son cerveau à des acteurs qui ont intérêt à calibrer la production de notre travail intellectuel d’une manière orientée, de façon à satisfaire des intérêts.

Vous citez à ce titre le recteur de l’Université de Montréal, qui disait en 2011 : “Les cerveaux doivent correspondre aux besoins des entreprises”.

Tout à fait, c’est comme Patrick Le Lay [ancien PDG de TF1, ndlr], qui déclarait en 2004 : “Ce que nous vendons à Coca-Cola, c’est du temps de cerveau humain disponible”. Ce recteur, voit son institution – une des universités les plus importantes de la francophonie – comme une entreprise qui vend des cerveaux à l’industrie. Celle-ci occupe d’ailleurs plusieurs sièges au Conseil d’administration de cette université, et décide donc en partie de son orientation.

On est dans un monde où le savoir est généré pour satisfaire l’entreprise, alors que le rôle des intellectuels est de faire de l’entreprise un objet de la pensée. Edward Said en parle très bien : l’expert ne se préoccupe pas de ce que son savoir génère. On peut très bien être géologue, aller chercher du zinc ou du cuivre au Katanga, mais être totalement incompétent quand il s’agit de penser les incidences de cette pratique à l’échelle du Congo. L’industrie ne veut pas qu’ils soient compétents, car ce n’est pas dans son intérêt.

A l’inverse, l’intellectuel agira en “amateur”, c’est-à-dire en aimant son sujet et en se sentant concerné par toutes ses dimensions, ce qui appelle nécessairement à l’interdisciplinarité.

Vous expliquez que le discours politique a été colonisé par un vocable centriste, celui de la “gouvernance”. Ce que vous déplorez sous le terme de “médiocratie”, n’est-ce pas finalement la fin des utopies ?

Je n’irai pas jusque là. Ce n’est pas une terminologie centriste, mais d’extrême-centre, qui s’est développée – c’est presque le contraire. Un discours centriste se situe sciemment sur un axe gauche/droite, alors que le discours d’extrême centre ne tolère rien d’autre que lui-même. Il ne se situe pas sur un spectre mais en nie plutôt la réalité et la légitimité.

Les tenants de la gouvernance sont loin d’être pondérés, contrairement à ce que leur vocable pourrait laisser croire. Ce sont des sophistes des temps modernes, qui ont l’art d’amadouer les syndicats en leur faisant croire qu’ils souhaitent prendre en compte leurs aspirations lors de “Conférences sociales”. En réalité ils militent pour que ceux-ci soient acquis à leurs positions a priori. Leur prétendue synthèse est en fait un discours radical, souvent en phase avec des pratiques inégalitaires et antidémocratiques. Un ordre qui met en péril 80 % des écosystèmes, et qui permet à 1 % des plus riches d’avoir 50 % des actifs mondiaux n’a rien de pondéré.

La médiocratie semble en effet être dotée d’une formidable faculté à tout dépolitiser, alors que ce qu’elle propose est radical : vous citez par exemple la loi 78 encadrant strictement le droit à manifester, qui était passée au Québec en 2012. Comment repolitiser la société ?

Je milite pour le retour à des mots investis de sens, tous ceux que la gouvernance a voulu abolir, caricaturer ou récupérer : la citoyenneté, le peuple, le conflit, les classes, le débat, les droits collectifs, le service public, le bien commun… Ces notions ont été transformées en “partenariat”, en “société civile”, en “responsabilité sociale des entreprises”, en “acceptabilité sociale”, en “sécurité humaine”, etc. Autant de mots-valises qui ont expulsé du champ politique des références rationnelles qui avaient du sens. Le mot “démocratie” lui-même est progressivement remplacé par celui de “gouvernance”. Ces mots méritent d’être réhabilités, comme ceux de “patient”, d’usager, d’abonné, spectateur, qui ont tous été remplacés par celui de “clients”. Cette réduction de tout à des logiques commerciales abolit la politique et mène à un évanouissement des références qui permettent aux gens d’agir.

On n’a pas le choix entre agir ou penser: quand on a agi, c’est qu’on a pensé, et pour penser, il faut avoir les termes qui conviennent. Ce ne sont pas des utopies mais des traditions mobilisatrices dans l’histoire qui sont en train d’être détruites. Aujourd’hui les Etats ne sont plus que les partenaires d’entreprises qui ont un statut équivalent. On greffe des petits intérêts aux grands, mais pendant ce temps là il n’y a pas de notion commune.

La COP21 est-elle un bon exemple de ce processus de gouvernance, puisqu’elle est sponsorisée par des entreprises et des banques qui font de l’évasion fiscale ?

Ce qui est emblématique de la gouvernance dans la COP21, ce sont tous les préparatifs qui ont consisté à accueillir dans l’agenda autant de propositions émanant d’écologistes, que de propositions émanant de Total. Comme du point de vue du climat, le gaz est mieux que le pétrole, Total propose de se reconvertir, quitte à ruiner les nappes phréatiques. C’est ça la gouvernance : on transforme en grand débat de société l’organisation d’un rapport de force dans lequel, pour gommer les oppositions, les plus forts essayent d’amener les plus faibles à adhérer à leurs projets dans une mascarade de consultation et de délibération.

Rancière a écrit que nous sommes tous équitablement dotés de ce qui est requis pour gouverner. Le tirage au sort est-il une solution pour réaffirmer l’idée de bien commun ?

Rancière était mon directeur de thèse. Le tirage au sort ne doit pas être considéré comme une panacée. Ce qui est intéressant c’est toute la pensée sous-jacente à cette proposition. Dans La Haine de la démocratie, Rancière développe cette idée sans a priori militant. Si par exemple en France, au Québec ou au Canada on faisait élire le Sénat au sort, ça changerait considérablement le positionnement des gens. On aurait un autre lien aux institutions. On redécouvrirait alors qu’en ce qui concerne les enjeux généraux de la vie publique, personne n’est plus compétent qu’un autre.

Rancière a raison de dire à ce titre que très peu de gens sont démocrates. Ce mot finit par tellement gêner, malgré les usages abusifs qu’on en a fait, qu’on est en train de le remplacer par celui de gouvernance, plus compatible avec ceux qui veulent utiliser la consultation et l’opinion à des fins de manipulation.

Personnellement je ne suis pas pour faire de grands bonds utopiques. On ne va pas tirer au sort du jour au lendemain tous nos représentants. Commencer par le Sénat, une chambre haute, qui n’a qu’une force de blocage et pas de proposition, rassurerait les gens. Ce serait une manière de responsabiliser les citoyens, à condition d’inventer des mécanismes pour s’assurer qu’il n’y ait pas de trafic d’influence.

Après les attentats du 13 novembre, la lutte contre le terrorisme rend les discours critiques assez inaudibles de manière générale. Elle incite la population à remettre le bien commun entre les mains d’un gouvernement, voire d’un homme providentiel, plutôt qu’à s’en saisir…

C’est très certainement ce à quoi le gouvernement aspire. La lutte contre le terrorisme est une bêtise conceptuelle, qui équivaut à dire que l’on va lutter contre les grenades. Dire qu’on fait la guerre au terrorisme c’est ériger un discours martial contre un adversaire qui n’a encore une fois “pas de visage”, ce qui est une aubaine pour le pouvoir. Et d’un point de vue tactique c’est une folie, car dans les conditions de possibilité historiques actuelles cela va générer encore plus de tensions, qui risquent d’exposer encore plus les Français à la barbarie qui s’est déployée le 13 novembre. Sur le plan intérieur cela va conduire le pays à prendre des mesures d’exception encore plus drastiques et liberticides par rapport à des adversaires toujours plus flous. Pour finalement mettre entre parenthèse ce qui est si insupportable pour les gens de pouvoir, la démocratie.

Je me dis parfois qu’il serait tellement simple pour un service web de refuser à leurs usagers l’authentification ponctuellement (et/ou à un faible pourcentage) pour obtenir un mot de passe alternatif qui serait très probablement utilisable sur un autre service. C’est même pire car avec ces deux mots de passe (ou plus…), je couvre potentiellement 100% de leurs vies numériques. Ces hypothèses demanderaient à être vérifiées.

Twenty years ago I attended my first Def Con. I believed in a free, open, reliable, interoperable Internet: a place where anyone can say anything, and anyone who wants to hear it can listen and respond. I believed in the Hacker Ethic: that information should be freely accessible and that computer technology was going to make the world a better place. I wanted to be a part of making these dreams — the Dream of Internet Freedom — come true. As an attorney, I wanted to protect hackers and coders from the predations of law so that they could do this important work. Many of the people in this room have spent their lives doing that work.
But today, that Dream of Internet Freedom is dying.
For better or for worse, we’ve prioritized things like security, online civility, user interface, and intellectual property interests above freedom and openness. The Internet is less open and more centralized. It’s more regulated. And increasingly it’s less global, and more divided. These trends: centralization, regulation, and globalization are accelerating. And they will define the future of our communications network, unless something dramatic changes.
Twenty years from now,
• You won’t necessarily know anything about the decisions that affect your rights, like whether you get a loan, a job, or if a car runs over you. Things will get decided by data-crunching computer algorithms and no human will really be able to understand why.
• The Internet will become a lot more like TV and a lot less like the global conversation we envisioned 20 years ago.
• Rather than being overturned, existing power structures will be reinforced and replicated, and this will be particularly true for security.
•Internet technology design increasingly facilitates rather than defeats censorship and control.
It doesn’t have to be this way. But to change course, we need to ask some hard questions and make some difficult decisions.
What does it mean for companies to know everything about us, and for computer algorithms to make life and death decisions? Should we worry more about another terrorist attack in New York, or the ability of journalists and human rights workers around the world to keep working? How much free speech does a free society really need?
How can we stop being afraid and start being sensible about risk? Technology has evolved into a Golden Age for Surveillance. Can technology now establish a balance of power between governments and the governed that would guard against social and political oppression? Given that decisions by private companies define individual rights and security, how can we act on that understanding in a way that protects the public interest and doesn’t squelch innovation? Whose responsibility is digital security? What is the future of the Dream of Internet Freedom?
The Dream of Internet Freedom
For me, the Dream of Internet Freedom started in 1984 with Steven Levy’s book “Hackers, Heroes of the Computer Revolution.” Levy told the story of old school coders and engineers who believed that all information should be freely accessible. They imagined that computers would empower people to make our own decisions about what was right and wrong. Empowering people depended on the design principle of decentralization. Decentralization was built into the very DNA of the early Internet, smart endpoints, but dumb pipes, that would carry whatever brilliant glories the human mind and heart could create to whomever wanted to listen.
This idea, that we could be in charge of our own intellectual destinies, appealed to me immensely. In 1986, I entered New College, a liberal arts school in Sarasota, Florida. Its motto is “Each student is responsible in the last analysis for his or her education.” That same year, I read the Hacker Manifesto, written by The Mentor and published in Phrack magazine. I learned that hackers, like my fellow academic nerds at New College, were also people that didn’t want to be spoon-fed intellectual baby food. Hackers wanted free access to information, they mistrusted authority, they wanted to change the world — to a place where people could explore and curiosity was its own reward.
In 1991 I started using the public Internet. I remember sending a chat request to a sysop, asking for help. And then I could see the letters that he was typing appearing in real time on my screen, viscerally knowing for the first time that this technology allowed talking to someone, anyone, everyone, in real time, anywhere. That’s when I really began to believe that the Dream of Internet Freedom could one day become a reality.
Twenty years ago, I was a criminal defense attorney, and I learned that hackers were getting in trouble for some tricks that I thought were actually pretty cool. As a prison advocate in the San Francisco Sheriff’s Department, I represented a guy who was looking at six more months in jail for hooting into the pay phone and getting free calls home. My research on that case made me realize there were a lot of laws that could impact hackers, and that I could help.
That was also the year that a guy by the name of Marty Rimm wrote a “study” saying that pornography was running rampant on the Internet. A law review published the paper, and Time Magazine touted it, and that’s all it took for Congress to be off to the races. The cyberporn hysteria resulted in Congress passing the Communications Decency Act of 1996 (CDA), an attempt to regulate online pornography.
For all you porn lovers out there, that would be a big disappointment. But there was something worse about the CDA. To stop porn, the government had to take the position that the Internet wasn’t fully protected by the First Amendment. And that would mean the government could block all kinds of things. The Internet wouldn’t be like a library. The Internet would be like TV. And TV in 1985 was actually really bad.
But this was even worse because we had higher hopes for the Internet. The Internet was a place where everyone could be a publisher and a creator. The Internet was global. And the Internet had everything on the shelves. Congress was squandering that promise.
At that time, John Perry Barlow, lyricist for the Grateful Dead, a rancher, a founder of the Electronic Frontier Foundation, wrote what is essentially a poem about love for the Internet. Barlow wrote:
Governments of the Industrial World, you weary giants of flesh and steel, I come from Cyberspace, the new home of Mind. On behalf of the future, I ask you of the past to leave us alone. You are not welcome among us. You have no sovereignty where we gather.

Barlow was reacting to the CDA and the assertion that the Internet should be less — not more — free than books and magazines. But he was also expressing weariness with business as usual, and our shared hope that the Internet would place our reading, our associations and our thoughts outside of government control.
It turns out that Marty Rimm and the Communications Decency Act didn’t kill Internet freedom. Instead, there was a strange twist of fate that we legal scholars like to call “irony”. In 1997 in a case called ACLU v. Reno, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down the CDA. It said that the First Amendment’s freedom of expression fully applies to the Internet.
The only part that remains of the CDA is a part that might seem like it achieves the opposite of Congress’s goal to get rid of online porn. It says that Internet providers don’t have to police their networks for pornography or most other unwanted content, and can’t get in trouble for failing to do so. This provision of the CDA is why the Internet is a platform for so much “user generated content,” whether videos, comments, social network posts, whatever.
Together, the Hacker Ethic, the Hacker Manifesto, and the Declaration of Independence of Cyberspace, ACLU v. Reno, and even the remaining piece of the CDA, describe a more or less radical dream, but one that many, if not most, of the people in this room have believed in and worked for. But today I’m standing here before you to tell you that these dreams aren’t coming true. Instead, twenty years on, the future not only looks a lot less dreamy than it once did, it looks like it might be worse.
Racism and sexism have proven resilient enough to thrive in the digital world. There are many, many examples of this, but let me use statistics, and anecdotes to make the point.
Statistically: At Google, women make up 30 percent of the company’s overall workforce, but hold only 17 percent of the company’s tech jobs. At Facebook, 15 percent of tech roles are staffed by women. At Twitter, 10 percent.
Anecdotally: Look around you at your fellow audience members. How very male and white this field is.
I find this so strange. The security community has historically been very good at finding, cultivating, and rewarding talent from unconventional candidates. Many of the most successful security experts never went to college, or even finished high school. A statistically disproportionate number of you are on the autism spectrum. Being gay or transgender is not a big deal and hasn’t been for years. A 15-year-old Aaron Swartz hung out with Doug Engelbart, creator of the computer mouse. Inclusion is at the very heart of the Hacker ethic.
And people of color and women are naturally inclined to be hackers. We learn early on that the given rules don’t work for us, and that we have to manipulate them to succeed, even where others might wish us to fail.
This field should be in the lead in evolving a race, class, age, and religiously open society, but it hasn’t been. We could conscientiously try to do this better. We could, and in my opinion should, commit to cultivating talent in unconventional places.
Today, our ability to know, modify and trust the technology we use is limited by both the law and our capacity for understanding complex systems. The Hands On Imperative is on life support. “The Freedom to Tinker” might sound like a hobby, but it’s quite important. It means our ability to study, modify and ultimately understand the technology we use — and that structures and defines our lives.
The Hands On Imperative is dying for two reasons. We are limited by both the law and our capacity for understanding complex systems.
The law: Two examples. It was exactly ten years ago that Black Hat staff spent all night cutting pages out of attendee books and re-stuffing conference sacks with new CDs. Security researcher Mike Lynn was scheduled to give a talk about a previously unknown category of vulnerability, specifically flaws in Internet routers. Cisco, and Mike Lynn’s employer ISS, decided at the last minute to try to keep the vulnerability a secret, ordering Mike to give a different talk and leveraging copyright law to force Black Hat to destroy all copies of Mike’s slides. There’s nothing that cries out censorship like cutting pages out of books.
On stage the next morning, Mike quit his job, donned a white baseball cap — literally a white hat — and presented his original research anyway. Cisco and ISS retaliated by suing him.
I was Mike’s lawyer. We managed to fight back that case, and the criminal investigation that the companies also instigated against him. But the message from the lawsuit was loud and clear — and not just to Mike. This is our software, not yours. This is our router, not yours. You’re just a licensee and we’ll tell you what you are allowed to do in the EULA. You can’t decompile this, you can’t study it, you can’t tell anyone what you find.
Aaron Swartz was another sacrificial lamb on the altar of network control. Aaron was charged with violating the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act (CFAA) because he wrote a script to automate the downloading of academic journal articles. Much of this information wasn’t even copyrighted. But Aaron was a hacker, and he challenged the system. They went after him with a vengeance. The case was based on the assertion that Aaron’s access to the journal articles was “unauthorized” even though he was authorized as a Harvard student to download the same articles.
Aaron killed himself, under immense stress from prosecutors twisting his arm to plead guilty to a political-career-ending felony, or face years in prison.
Here, too, the message was clear. You need our permission to operate in this world. If you step over the line we draw, if you automate, if you download too fast, if you type something weird in the URL bar on your browser, and we don’t like it, or we don’t like you, then we will get you.
In the future will we re-secure the Freedom to Tinker? That means Congress forgoing the tough-on-cybercrime hand waving it engages in every year — annual proposals, to make prison sentences more severe under the CFAA, as if any of the suspected perpetrators of the scores of major breaches of the past two or three years — China, North Korea, who knows who else — would be deterred by such a thing. These proposals just scare the good guys, they don’t stop the attackers.
We’d have to declare that users own and can modify the software we buy and download — despite software licenses and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA).
This is going to be increasingly important. Over the next 20 years software will be embedded in everything, from refrigerators to cars to medical devices.
Without the Freedom to Tinker, the right to reverse engineer these products, we will be living in a world of opaque black boxes. We don’t know what they do, and you’ll be punished for peeking inside.
Using licenses and law to control and keep secrets about your products is just one reason why in the future we may know far less about the world around us and how it works than we currently do.
Today, technology is generating more information about us than ever before, and will increasingly do so, making a map of everything we do, changing the balance of power between us, businesses and governments. In the next 20 years, we will see amazing advances in artificial intelligence and machine learning. Software programs are going to be deciding whether a car runs people over, or drives off a bridge. Software programs are going to decide who gets a loan, and who gets a job. If intellectual property law will protect these programs from serious study, then the public will have no idea how these decisions are being made. Professor Frank Pasquale has called this the Black Box Society. Take secrecy and the profit motive, add a billion pieces of data, and shake.
In a Black Box Society, how can we ensure that the outcome is in the public interest? The first step is obviously transparency, but our ability to understand is limited by current law and also by the limits of our human intelligence. The companies that make these products might not necessarily know how their product works either. Without adequate information, how can we democratically influence or oversee these decisions? We are going to have to learn how, or live in a society that is less fair and less free.
We are also going to have to figure out who should be responsible when software fails.

So far, there’s been very little regulation of software security. Yes, the Federal Trade Commission has jumped in where vendors misrepresented what the software would do. But that is going to change. People are sick and tired of crappy software. And they aren’t going to take it any more. The proliferation of networked devices — the Internet of Things — is going to mean all kinds of manufacturers traditionally subject to products liability are also software purveyors. If an autonomous car crashes, or a networked toaster catches on fire, you can bet there is going to be product liability. Chrysler just recalled 1.4 million cars because of the vulnerabilities that Charlie Miller and Chris Valasek are going to be talking about later today. It’s a short step from suing Tesla to suing Oracle for insecure software… with all the good and the bad that will come of that.
I think software liability is inevitable. I think it’s necessary. I think it will make coding more expensive, and more conservative. I think we’ll do a crappy job of it for a really long time. I don’t know what we’re going to end up with. But I know that it’s going to be a lot harder on the innovators than on the incumbents.
Today, the physical design and the business models that fund the communications networks we use have changed in ways that facilitate rather than defeat censorship and control. But before I delve into issues of privacy, security and free expression, let’s take a few steps back and ask how we got to where we are today.
The design of the early public Internet was end-to-end. That meant dumb pipes that would carry anything, and smart edges, where application and content innovation would occur. This design principle was intentional. The Internet would not just enable communication, but would do so in a decentralized, radically democratic way. Power to the people, not to the governments or companies that run the pipes.
The Internet has evolved, as technologies do. Today, broadband Internet providers want to build smart pipes that discriminate for quality of service, differential pricing, and other new business models. Hundreds of millions of people conduct their social interactions over just a few platforms like TenCent and Facebook.
What does this evolution mean for the public? In his book The Master Switch, Professor Tim Wu looks at phones, radio, television, movies. He sees what he calls “the cycle.”
History shows a typical progression of information technologies, from somebody’s hobby to somebody’s industry; from jury-rigged contraption to slick production marvel; from a freely accessible channel to one strictly controlled by a single corporation or cartel — from open to closed system.
Eventually, innovators or regulators smash apart the closed system, and the cycle begins afresh. In the book, Tim asks the question I’m asking you. Is the Internet subject to this cycle? Will it be centralized and corporately controlled? Will it be freely accessible, a closed system or something in between?
If we don’t do things differently, the Internet is going to end up being TV. First, I said we’ve neglected openness and freedom in favor of other interests like intellectual property, and that’s true.
But it’s also true that a lot of people affirmatively no longer share the Dream of Internet Freedom, if they ever did. They don’t think it’s the utopia that I’ve made it out to be. Rather, the Dream of Internet Freedom collided head on with the ugly awfulness called Other People. Nasty comments, 4chan, /b/tards, revenge porn, jihadists, Nazis. Increasingly I hear law professors, experts in the First Amendment, the doctrine of overbreadth and the chilling effect, talk about how to legislate this stuff they don’t like out of existence.
Second, there are the three trends I told you about: centralization, regulation and globalization.
· Centralization means a cheap and easy point for control and surveillance.
· Regulation means exercise of government power in favor of domestic, national interests and private entities with economic influence over lawmakers.
· Globalization means more governments are getting into the Internet regulation mix. They want to both protect and to regulate their citizens. And remember, the next billion Internet users are going to come from countries without a First Amendment, without a Bill of Rights, maybe even without due process or the rule of law. So these limitations won’t necessarily be informed by what we in the U.S. consider basic civil liberties.
Now when I say that the Internet is headed for corporate control, it may sound like I’m blaming corporations. When I say that the Internet is becoming more closed because governments are policing the network, it may sound like I’m blaming the police. I am. But I’m also blaming you. And me. Because the things that people want are helping drive increased centralization, regulation and globalization.
Remember blogs? Who here still keeps a blog regularly? I had a blog, but now I post updates on Facebook. A lot of people here at Black Hat host their own email servers, but almost everyone else I know uses gmail. We like the spam filtering and the malware detection. When I had an iPhone, I didn’t jailbreak it. I trusted the security of the vetted apps in the Apple store. When I download apps, I click yes on the permissions. I love it when my phone knows I’m at the store and reminds me to buy milk.
This is happening in no small part because we want lots of cool products “in the cloud.” But the cloud isn’t an amorphous collection of billions of water droplets. The cloud is actually a finite and knowable number of large companies with access to or control over large pieces of the Internet. It’s Level 3 for fiber optic cables, Amazon for servers, Akamai for CDN, Facebook for their ad network, Google for Android and the search engine. It’s more of an oligopoly than a cloud. And, intentionally or otherwise, these products are now choke points for control, surveillance and regulation.
So as things keep going in this direction, what does it mean for privacy, security and freedom of expression? What will be left of the Dream of Internet Freedom?
Privacy
The first casualty of centralization has been privacy. And since privacy is essential to liberty, the future will be less free.
This is the Golden Age of Surveillance. Today, technology is generating more information about us than ever before, and will increasingly do so, making a map of everything we do, changing the balance of power between us, businesses, and governments. The government has built the technological infrastructure and the legal support for mass surveillance, almost entirely in secret.
Here’s a quiz. What do emails, buddy lists, drive back ups, social networking posts, web browsing history, your medical data, your bank records, your face print, your voice print, your driving patterns and your DNA have in common?
Answer: The U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) doesn’t think any of these things are private. Because the data is technically accessible to service providers or visible in public, it should be freely accessible to investigators and spies.
And yet, to paraphrase Justice Sonya Sotomayor, this data can reveal your contacts with “the psychiatrist, the plastic surgeon, the abortion clinic, the AIDS treatment center, the strip club, the criminal defense attorney, the by-the-hour motel, the union meeting, the mosque, synagogue or church, or the gay bar.”
So technology is increasingly proliferating data…and the law is utterly failing to protect it. Believe it or not, considering how long we’ve had commercial email, there’s only one civilian appellate court that’s decided the question of email privacy. It’s the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals in 2006, in U.S. v. Warshak. Now that court said that people do have a reasonable expectation of privacy in their emails. Therefore, emails are protected by the Fourth Amendment and the government needs a warrant to get them. This ruling only answers part of the question for part of this country — Kentucky, Tennessee, Michigan and Ohio. Because of it, almost all service providers require some kind of warrant before turning over your emails to criminal investigators. But the DOJ continues to push against Warshak in public, but also secretly.
But I want to emphasize how important the ruling is, because I think many people might not fully understand what the reasonable expectation of privacy and a warrant requirement mean. It means that a judge polices access, so that there has to be a good reason for the search or seizure, it can’t be arbitrary. It also means that the search has to be targeted, because a warrant has to specifically describe what is going to be searched. The warrant requirement is not only a limitation on arbitrary police action, it should also limit mass surveillance.
But in the absence of privacy protection — pushed by our own government — the law isn’t going to protect our information from arbitrary, suspicion-less massive surveillance, even as that data generation proliferates out of control.
Centralization means that your information is increasingly available from “the cloud,” an easy one stop shopping point to get data not just about you, but about everyone. And it gives the government a legal argument to get around the Fourth Amendment warrant requirement.
Regulation is not protecting your data and at worst is actually ensuring that governments can get easy access to this data. The DOJ pushes:
· Provider assistance provisions to require providers to assist with spying;
· Corporate immunity for sharing data with the government, for example giving AT&T immunity in its complicity with NSA’s illegal domestic spying and in CISPA, CISA and other surveillance proposals masquerading as security information sharing bills;
· And, not so much yet in the U.S. but in other countries, data retention obligations that essentially deputize companies to spy on their users for the government.
Globalization gives the U.S. a way to spy on Americans…by spying on foreigners we talk to. Our government uses the fact that the network is global against us. The NSA conducts massive spying overseas, and Americans’ data gets caught in the net. And, by insisting that foreigners have no Fourth Amendment privacy rights, it’s easy to reach the conclusion that you don’t have such rights either, as least when you’re talking to or even about foreigners.
Surveillance couldn’t get much worse, but in the next 20 years, it actually will. Now we have networked devices, the so-called Internet of Things, that will keep track of our home heating, and how much food we take out of our refrigerator, and our exercise, sleep, heartbeat, and more. These things are taking our off-line physical lives and making them digital and networked, in other words, surveillable.
To have any hope of attaining the Dream of Internet Freedom, we have to implement legal reforms to stop suspicion-less spying. We have to protect email and our physical location from warrantless searches. We have to stop overriding the few privacy laws we have to gain with a false sense of online security. We have to utterly reject secret surveillance laws, if only because secret law is an abomination in a democracy.
Are we going to do any of these things?
Security
Despite the way many people talk about it, security it isn’t the opposite of privacy. You can improve security without infringing privacy — for example by locking cockpit doors. And not all invasions of privacy help security. In fact, privacy protects security. A human rights worker in Syria or a homosexual in India needs privacy, or they may be killed.
Instead, we should think about security with more nuance. Online threats mean different things depending on whose interests you have at stake — governments, corporations, political associations, individuals. Whether something is “secure” is a function of whose security you are concerned with. In other words, security is in the eye of the beholder. Further, security need not be zero sum: Because we are talking about global information networks, security improvements can benefit all, just as security vulnerabilities can hurt all.

The battleground of the future is that people in power want more security for themselves at the expense of others. The U.S. Government talks about security as “cyber”. When I hear “cyber” I hear shorthand for military domination of the Internet, as General Michael Hayden, former NSA and CIA head, has said — ensuring U.S. access and denying access to our enemies. Security for me, but not for thee. Does that sound like an open, free, robust, global Internet to you?
Here’s just one public example: our government wants weakened cryptography, back doors in popular services and devices so that it can surveil us (remember, without a warrant). It is unmoved by the knowledge that these back doors will be used by criminals and oppressive governments alike. Meanwhile, it overclassifies, maintains secret law, withholds documents from open government requests, goes after whistleblowers and spies on journalists.
Here’s another. The White House is pushing for the Department of Homeland Security to be the hub for security threat information sharing. That means DHS will decide who gets vulnerability information… and who doesn’t.
I see governments and elites picking and choosing security haves and security have nots. In other words, security will be about those in power trying to get more power.
This isn’t building security for a global network. What’s at stake is the well-being of vulnerable communities and minorities that need security most. What’s at stake is the very ability of citizens to petition the government. Of religious minorities to practice their faith without fear of reprisals. Of gay people to find someone to love. This state of affairs should worry anyone who is outside the mainstream, whether an individual, a political or religious group or a start up without market power.
Freedom of Expression
Today, the physical architecture and the corporate ownership of the communications networks we use have changed in ways that facilitate rather than defeat censorship and control. In the U.S., copyright was the first cause for censorship, but now we are branching out to political speech.
Governments see the power of platforms and have proposed that social media companies alert federal authorities when they become aware of terrorist-related content on their sites. A U.N. panel last month called on the firms to respond to accusations that their sites are being exploited by the Islamic State and other groups. At least at this point, there’s no affirmative obligation to police in the U.S.
But you don’t have to have censorship laws if you can bring pressure to bear. People cheer when Google voluntarily delists so-called revenge porn, when YouTube deletes ISIS propaganda videos, when Twitter adopts tougher policies on hate speech. The end result is collateral censorship, by putting pressure on platforms and intermediaries, governments can indirectly control what we say and what we experience.
What that means is that governments, or corporations, or the two working together increasingly decide what we can see. It’s not true that anyone can say anything and be heard anywhere. It’s more true that your breast feeding photos aren’t welcome and, increasingly, that your unorthodox opinions about radicalism will get you placed on a list.
Make no mistake, this censorship is inherently discriminatory. Muslim “extremist” speech is cause for alarm and deletion. But no one is talking about stopping Google from returning search results for the Confederate flag.
Globalization means other governments are in the censorship mix. I’m not just talking about governments like Russia and China. There’s also the European Union, with its laws against hate speech, Holocaust denial, and its developing Right To Be Forgotten. Each country wants to enforce its own laws and protect and police its citizens as it sees fit, and that means a different internet experience for different countries or regions. In Europe, accurate information is being delisted from search engines, to make it harder or impossible to find. So much for talking to everyone everywhere in real time. So much for having everything on the Internet shelf.
Worse, governments are starting to enforce their laws outside their borders through blocking orders to major players like Google and to ISPs. France is saying to Google, don’t return search results that violate our laws to anyone, even if it’s protected speech that we are entitled to in the U.S. If you follow this through to the obvious conclusion, every country will censor everywhere. It will be intellectual baby food.
How much free speech does a free society really need? Alternatively how much sovereignty should a nation give up to enable a truly global network to flourish?
Right now, if we don’t change course and begin to really value having a place for even the edgy and disruptive speech, our choice is between network balkanization and a race to the bottom.
Which will we pick?
The Next 20 Years
The future for freedom and openness appears to be far bleaker than we had hoped for 20 years ago. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Let me describe another future where the Internet Dream lives and thrives.
We start to think globally. We need to deter another terrorist attack in New York, but we can’t ignore impact our decisions have on journalists and human rights workers around the world. We strongly value both.
We build in decentralization where possible: Power to the People. And strong end to end encryption can start to right the imbalance between tech, law and human rights.
We realize the government has no role in dictating communications technology design.
We start being afraid of the right things and stop being driven by irrational fear. We reform the CFAA, the DMCA, the Patriot Act and foreign surveillance law. We stop being so sensitive about speech and we let noxious bullshit air out. If a thousand flowers bloom, the vast majority of them will be beautiful.
Today we’ve reached an inflection point. If we change paths, it is still possible that the Dream of Internet Freedom can become true. But if we don’t, it won’t. The Internet will continue to evolve into a slick, stiff, controlled and closed thing. And that dream I have — that so many of you have — will be dead. If so, we need to think about creating the technology for the next lifecycle of the revolution. In the next 20 years we need to get ready to smash the Internet apart and build something new and better.

Human beings make a big deal about being normal. We’re probably the only species for which it’s normal to think you’re not normal.

Every society operates under thousands of unspoken rules, and when you break them people get nervous. There are acceptable and unacceptable ways to stand in line at the bank, order at restaurants, and answer the phone. There are appropriate and inappropriate birthday gifts, wedding toasts, and hugging styles.

Every type of social situation has its own subsection of laws and procedures. You can make everyone around you instantly uncomfortable just by facing the back wall while riding an elevator, or asking a fellow bus passenger if they want to hear a story.

Miraculously, most of us have learned most of these rules by the time we become adults, at least enough to fulfill our basic responsibilities without causing a scene. The moment kids are born, they begin to absorb clues about what’s okay and what’s not by continually watching and emulating.

We learn some of these rules in explicit mini-lessons from our parents and teachers, and occasionally friends, when they pull us aside and tell us, “We don’t talk about pee at the dinner table,” or “We don’t bring up sports betting around Eddie.”

We also learn the location of certain boundaries when we bump up against them, by remembering which acts triggered dirty looks, and which got laughs, or no reaction at all. Over time, we learn that we can avoid awkward and painful collisions with these boundaries by simply doing what other people are doing, and not doing what they’re not doing.

Stand where the other people are standing. When other people are quiet, be quiet. When they’re eating, eat. When they’re being somber, be somber. When they laugh, laugh (even if you don’t get the joke).

This survival tactic eventually becomes a part of our worldview. Humans are an easily frightened, highly social species, and we put together a sense of how things are supposed to be—of how we’re supposed to be—by what seems normal for the people around us. How do you know if you’re in good health for someone your age? For some places and times in history, failing health at age 48 is expected; in 21st-century USA, it means something’s gone wrong.

Every life is mostly private

Our reliance on using norms for guidance gets us through a lot of confusing social situations, but it creates a huge problem when it comes to evaluating ourselves.

We can’t compare ourselves to what we can’t see, and most of a person’s life is invisible to everybody else. Our thoughts, feelings, moods, urges, impressions, expectations and other intangible qualities happen only on the inside, yet they constitute the largest part of our lives. They aren’t just important to us—essentially, they are us.

Life is ultimately a solo trip, and most of the landscape is mental. Even when it comes to your closest loved ones, you never get access to another person’s internal experience. They can talk about it, or hint at it through their actions, but everything behind their eyes is fundamentally off limits to you, while to them it’s everything.

Our public selves are that one-tenth of the iceberg that sees the Sun. The other 90% is who we are only to ourselves, and we have nothing to compare it to. You can’t tell, just by observing, whether other people have a similar inner world to yours, especially socially unacceptable feelings like intense guilt, or feelings of incompetence, or apathy, or uncontrollable sympathy.

One of the behaviors we learn to emulate is to always present our “best face”, so we learn to keep our most insecure and ugly thoughts to ourselves. This leaves a lot of us wondering if we’re crazy, or especially messed up inside.

Many of the emails I get from readers are private disclosures that they feel like impostors: they have successfully fooled their friends, family and co-workers into thinking they have things together, but they’re only pretending. Their stories are so similar it’s almost unbelievable. Usually they have a respectable-sounding career and home life, but they feel particularly fragile and troubled compared to how everyone around them appears to be.

My answer is always that I feel that way too, or at least my own version of it, on a regular basis. Hearing these stories over and over has all but confirmed my suspicion that human beings live with a consistent discrepancy between what we’re each like in our private world, and what we think others are like.

Somewhere along the line, human beings have convinced themselves that the normal way for a grown human being to feel is prepared, secure and competent. Serious feelings of anxiety, incompetence, guilt or insecurity must always mean something’s wrong with you—either there must be some past life event that justifies these feelings, or you’re just crazy.

You might get comforting glimpses of the dark, bulbous root of someone else’s iceberg by reading Sylvia Plath poems or Cormac McCarthy books, but in social situations it is as hidden (and as officially non-existent) as the Pentagon’s security schedule.

You’re on your own but you’re not alone

The other day on Reddit, someone asked any therapists and psychologists in the audience to answer a question: What is something that most people think they are alone in feeling/experiencing?

Dozens of therapists answered, and hundreds of people learned that their unique inner problems weren’t unique and might not even be problematic. They’re just hard to see in others, because most people never share them, except maybe with a therapist. (The thread is definitely worth a read.)

The “Impostor syndrome” I mentioned was a really common one. So if you’re the one who thinks their entire career is a fluke and that it will all soon be exposed in a nightmarish intervention scenario at your office, you are not alone.

A lot of perfectly sane people have deep insecurities, dark thoughts, and peculiar aversions to everyday things. Intrusive thoughts, about sex, violence, humiliation, suicide, the end of the world—not at all uncommon.

We all have our own craziness going on, but we’re very good at hiding it from everyone else. While some of our neurotic patterns are serious enough to warrant treatment, a lot of it is quite normal.

All of our personal dilemmas and life situations aside, simply being human is just plain hard. We want to make it look easy though, because almost everyone else does. But if you could look right down through everyone else’s iceberg—if you could see exactly how much insecurity, stress and craziness there is hidden in the average office floor or subway car—you might be glad for your own.

Communication via algorithme au lieu de langage naturel. Pour permettre communication entre machines mais aussi entre humains.
Développe des idées de contrats lisibles par des machines et humains ==> ethereum.

Not many years ago, the idea of having a computer broadly answer questions asked in plain English seemed like science fiction. But when we released Wolfram|Alpha in 2009 one of the big surprises (not least to me!) was that we’d managed to make this actually work. And by now people routinely ask personal assistant systems—many powered by Wolfram|Alpha—zillions of questions in ordinary language every day.
Ask questions in ordinary language, get answers from Wolfram|Alpha
It all works fairly well for quick questions, or short commands (though we’re always trying to make it better!). But what about more sophisticated things? What’s the best way to communicate more seriously with AIs?
I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while, trying to fit together clues from philosophy, linguistics, neuroscience, computer science and other areas. And somewhat to my surprise, what I’ve realized recently is that a big part of the answer may actually be sitting right in front of me, in the form of what I’ve been building towards for the past 30 years: the Wolfram Language.
Maybe this is a case of having a hammer and then seeing everything as a nail. But I’m pretty sure there’s more to it. And at the very least, thinking through the issue is a way to understand more about AIs and their relation to humans.
Computation Is Powerful
The first key point—that I came to understand clearly only after a series of discoveries I made in basic science—is that computation is a very powerful thing, that lets even tiny programs (like cellular automata, or neural networks) behave in incredibly complicated ways. And it’s this kind of thing that an AI can harness.
A cellular automaton with a very simple rule set (shown in the lower left corner) that produces highly complex behavior
Looking at pictures like this we might be pessimistic: how are we humans going to communicate usefully about all that complexity? Ultimately, what we have to hope is that we can build some kind of bridge between what our brains can handle and what computation can do. And although I didn’t look at it quite this way, this turns out to be essentially just what I’ve been trying to do all these years in designing the Wolfram Language.
Language of Computational Thinking
I have seen my role as being to identify lumps of computation that people will understand and want to use, like FindShortestTour, ImageIdentify or Predict. Traditional computer languages have concentrated on low-level constructs close to the actual hardware of computers. But in the Wolfram Language I’ve instead started from what we humans understand, and then tried to capture as much of it as possible in the language.
In the early years, we were mostly dealing with fairly abstract concepts, about, say, mathematics or logic or abstract networks. But one of the big achievements of recent years—closely related to Wolfram|Alpha—has been that we’ve been able to extend the structure we built to cover countless real kinds of things in the world—like cities or movies or animals.
One might wonder: why invent a language for all this; why not just use, say, English? Well, for specific things, like “hot pink”, “new york city” or “moons of pluto”, English is good—and actually for such things the Wolfram Language lets people just use English. But when one’s trying to describe more complex things, plain English pretty quickly gets unwieldy.
Imagine for example trying to describe even a fairly simple algorithmic program. A back-and-forth dialog—“Turing-test style”—would rapidly get frustrating. And a straight piece of English would almost certainly end up with incredibly convoluted prose like one finds in complex legal documents.
The Wolfram Language specifies clearly and succinctly how to create this image. The equivalent natural-language specification is complicated and subject to misinterpretation.
But the Wolfram Language is built precisely to solve such problems. It’s set up to be readily understandable to humans, capturing the way humans describe and think about things. Yet it also has a structure that allows arbitrary complexity to be assembled and communicated. And, of course, it’s readily understandable not just by humans, but also by machines.
I realize I’ve actually been thinking and communicating in a mixture of English and Wolfram Language for years. When I give talks, for example, I’ll say something in English, then I’ll just start typing to communicate my next thought with a piece of Wolfram Language code that executes right there.
The Wolfram Language mixes well with English in documents and thought streams
Understanding AIs
But let’s get back to AI. For most of the history of computing, we’ve built programs by having human programmers explicitly write lines of code, understanding (apart from bugs!) what each line does. But achieving what can reasonably be called AI requires harnessing more of the power of computation. And to do this one has to go beyond programs that humans can directly write—and somehow automatically sample a broader swath of possible programs.
We can do this through the kind of algorithm automation we’ve long used in Mathematica and the Wolfram Language, or we can do it through explicit machine learning, or through searching the computational universe of possible programs. But however we do it, one feature of the programs that come out is that they have no reason to be understandable by humans.
Engineered programs are written to be human-readable. Automatically created or discovered programs are not necessarily human-readable.
At some level it’s unsettling. We don’t know how the programs work inside, or what they might be capable of. But we know they’re doing elaborate computation that’s in a sense irreducibly complex to analyze.
There’s another, very familiar place where the same kind of thing happens: the natural world. Whether we look at fluid dynamics, or biology, or whatever, we see all sorts of complexity. And in fact the Principle of Computational Equivalence that emerged from the basic science I did implies that this complexity is in a sense exactly the same as the complexity that can occur in computational systems.
Over the centuries we’ve been able to identify aspects of the natural world that we can understand, and then harness them to create technology that’s useful to us. And our traditional engineering approach to programming works more or less the same way.
But for AI, we have to venture out into the broader computational universe, where—as in the natural world—we’re inevitably dealing with things we cannot readily understand.
What Will AIs Do?
Let’s imagine we have a perfect, complete AI, that’s able to do anything we might reasonably associate with intelligence. Maybe it’ll get input from lots of IoT sensors. And it has all sorts of computation going on inside. But what is it ultimately going to try to do? What is its purpose going to be?
This is about to dive into some fairly deep philosophy, involving issues that have been batted around for thousands of years—but which finally are going to really matter in dealing with AIs.
One might think that as an AI becomes more sophisticated, so would its purposes, and that eventually the AI would end up with some sort of ultimate abstract purpose. But this doesn’t make sense. Because there is really no such thing as abstractly defined absolute purpose, derivable in some purely formal mathematical or computational way. Purpose is something that’s defined only with respect to humans, and their particular history and culture.
An “abstract AI”, not connected to human purposes, will just go along doing computation. And as with most cellular automata and most systems in nature, we won’t be able to identify—or attribute—any particular “purpose” to that computation, or to the system that does it.
Giving Goals for an AI
Technology has always been about automating things so humans can define goals, and then those goals can automatically be achieved by the technology.
For most kinds of technology, those goals have been tightly constrained, and not too hard to describe. But for a general computational system they can be completely arbitrary. So then the challenge is how to describe them.
What do you say to an AI to tell it what you want it to do for you? You’re not going to be able to tell it exactly what to do in each and every circumstance. You’d only be able to do that if the computations the AI could do were tightly constrained, like in traditional software engineering. But for the AI to work properly, it’s going to have to make use of broader parts of the computational universe. And it’s then a consequence of a phenomenon I call computational irreducibility that you’ll never be able to determine everything it’ll do.
So what’s the best way to define goals for an AI? It’s complicated. If the AI can experience your life alongside you—seeing what you see, reading your email, and so on—then, just like with a person you know well, you might be able to tell the AI at least simple goals just by saying them in natural language.
But what if you want to define more complex goals, or goals that aren’t closely associated with what the AI has already experienced? Then small amounts of natural language wouldn’t be enough. Perhaps the AI could go through a whole education. But a better idea would be to leverage what we have in the Wolfram Language, which in effect already has lots of knowledge of the world built into it, in a way that both the human and the AI can use.
AIs Talking to AIs
Thinking about how humans communicate with AIs is one thing. But how will AIs communicate with one another? One might imagine they could do literal transfers of their underlying representations of knowledge. But that wouldn’t work, because as soon as two AIs have had different “experiences”, the representations they use will inevitably be at least somewhat different.
And so, just like humans, the AIs are going to end up needing to use some form of symbolic language that represents concepts abstractly, without specific reference to the underlying representations of those concepts.
One might then think the AIs should just communicate in English; at least that way we’d be able to understand them! But it wouldn’t work out. Because the AIs would inevitably need to progressively extend their language—so even if it started as English, it wouldn’t stay that way.
In human natural languages, new words get added when there are new concepts that are widespread enough to make representing them in the language useful. Sometimes a new concept is associated with something new in the world (“blog”, “emoji”, “smartphone”, “clickbait”, etc.); sometimes it’s associated with a new distinction among existing things (“road” vs. “freeway”, “pattern” vs. “fractal”).
Often it’s science that gives us new distinctions between things, by identifying distinct clusters of behavior or structure. But the point is that AIs can do that on a much larger scale than humans. For example, our Image Identification Project is set up to recognize the 10,000 or so kinds of objects that we humans have everyday names for. But internally, as it’s trained on images from the world, it’s discovering all sorts of other distinctions that we don’t have names for, but that are successful at robustly separating things.
I’ve called these “post-linguistic emergent concepts” (or PLECs). And I think it’s inevitable that in a population of AIs, an ever-expanding hierarchy of PLECs will appear, forcing the language of the AIs to progressively expand.
But how could the framework of English support that? I suppose each new concept could be assigned a word formed from some hash-code-like collection of letters. But a structured symbolic language—as the Wolfram Language is—provides a much better framework. Because it doesn’t require the units of the language to be simple “words”, but allows them to be arbitrary lumps of symbolic information, such as collections of examples (so that, for example, a word can be represented by a symbolic structure that carries around its definitions).
So should AIs talk to each other in Wolfram Language? It seems to make a lot of sense—because it effectively starts from the understanding of the world that’s been developed through human knowledge, but then provides a framework for going further. It doesn’t matter how the syntax is encoded (input form, XML, JSON, binary, whatever). What matters is the structure and content that are built into the language.
Information Acquisition: The Billion-Year View
Over the course of the billions of years that life has existed on Earth, there’ve been a few different ways of transferring information. The most basic is genomics: passing information at the hardware level. But then there are neural systems, like brains. And these get information—like our Image Identification Project—by accumulating it from experiencing the world. This is the mechanism that organisms use to see, and to do many other “AI-ish” things.
But in a sense this mechanism is fundamentally limited, because every different organism—and every different brain—has to go through the whole process of learning for itself: none of the information obtained in one generation can readily be passed to the next.
But this is where our species made its great invention: natural language. Because with natural language it’s possible to take information that’s been learned, and communicate it in abstract form, say from one generation to the next. There’s still a problem however, because when natural language is received, it still has to be interpreted, in a separate way in each brain.
Information transfer: Level 0: genomics; Level 1: individual brains; Level 2: natural language; Level 3: computational knowledge language
And this is where the idea of a computational-knowledge language—like the Wolfram Language—is important: because it gives a way to communicate concepts and facts about the world, in a way that can immediately and reproducibly be executed, without requiring separate interpretation on the part of whatever receives it.
It’s probably not a stretch to say that the invention of human natural language was what led to civilization and our modern world. So then what are the implications of going to another level: of having a precise computational-knowledge language, that carries not just abstract concepts, but also a way to execute them?
One possibility is that it may define the civilization of the AIs, whatever that may turn out to be. And perhaps this may be far from what we humans—at least in our present state—can understand. But the good news is that at least in the case of the Wolfram Language, precise computational-knowledge language isn’t incomprehensible to humans; in fact, it was specifically constructed to be a bridge between what humans can understand, and what machines can readily deal with.
What If Everyone Could Code?
So let’s imagine a world in which in addition to natural language, it’s also common for communication to occur through a computational-knowledge language like the Wolfram Language. Certainly, a lot of the computational-knowledge-language communication will be between machines. But some of it will be between humans and machines, and quite possibly it would be the dominant form of communication here.
In today’s world, only a small fraction of people can write computer code—just as, 500 or so years ago, only a small fraction of people could write natural language. But what if a wave of computer literacy swept through, and the result was that most people could write knowledge-based code?
Natural language literacy enabled many features of modern society. What would knowledge-based code literacy enable? There are plenty of simple things. Today you might get a menu of choices at a restaurant. But if people could read code, there could be code for each choice, that you could readily modify to your liking. (And actually, something very much like this is soon going be possible—with Wolfram Language code—for biology and chemistry lab experiments.) Another implication of people being able to read code is for rules and contracts: instead of just writing prose to be interpreted, one can have code to be read by humans and machines alike.
But I suspect the implications of widespread knowledge-based code literacy will be much deeper—because it will not only give a wide range of people a new way to express things, but will also give them a new way to think about them.
Will It Actually Work?
So, OK, let’s say we want to use the Wolfram Language to communicate with AIs. Will it actually work? To some extent we know it already does. Because inside Wolfram|Alpha and the systems based on it, what’s happening is that natural language questions are being converted to Wolfram Language code.
But what about more elaborate applications of AI? Many places where the Wolfram Language is used are examples of AI, whether they’re computing with images or text or data or symbolic structures. Sometimes the computations involve algorithms whose goals we can precisely define, like FindShortestTour; sometimes they involve algorithms whose goals are less precise, like ImageIdentify. Sometimes the computations are couched in the form of “things to do”, sometimes as “things to look for” or “things to aim for”.
We’ve come a long way in representing the world in the Wolfram Language. But there’s still more to do. Back in the 1600s it was quite popular to try to create “philosophical languages” that would somehow symbolically capture the essence of everything one could think about. Now we need to really do this. And, for example, to capture in a symbolic way all the kinds of actions and processes that can happen, as well as things like peoples’ beliefs and mental states. As our AIs become more sophisticated and more integrated into our lives, representing these kinds of things will become more important.
For some tasks and activities we’ll no doubt be able to use pure machine learning, and never have to build up any kind of intermediate structure or language. But much as natural language was crucial in enabling our species to get where we have, so also having an abstract language will be important for the progress of AI.
I’m not sure what it would look like, but we could perhaps imagine using some kind of pure emergent language produced by the AIs. But if we do that, then we humans can expect to be left behind, and to have no chance of understanding what the AIs are doing. But with the Wolfram Language we have a bridge, because we have a language that’s suitable for both humans and AIs.
More to Say
There’s much to be said about the interplay between language and computation, humans and AIs. Perhaps I need to write a book about it. But my purpose here has been to describe a little of my current thinking, particularly my realizations about the Wolfram Language as a bridge between human understanding and AI.
With pure natural language or traditional computer language, we’ll be hard pressed to communicate much to our AIs. But what I’ve been realizing is that with Wolfram Language there’s a much richer alternative, readily extensible by the AIs, but built on a base that leverages human natural language and human knowledge to maintain a connection with what we humans can understand. We’re seeing early examples already… but there’s a lot further to go, and I’m looking forward to actually building what’s needed, as well as writing about it…

Ce qu’on est en train de vivre mérite que chacun se pose un instant à la terrasse de lui-même, et lève la tête pour regarder la société où il vit. Et qui sait... peut-être qu'un peu plus loin, dans un lambeau de ciel blanc accroché aux immeubles, il apercevra la société qu’il espère.

Nous sommes en guerre.

Nous sommes en guerre contre une système nocif d’une extrême violence (cache) que nous alimentons chaque jour autour du capitalisme. Un système qui renforce les inégalités et conduit à une perte d’identité que certains retrouvent dans le fanatisme ou la religion. Il y a pourtant des alternatives pour un travail moins dégradant.

Nous sommes en guerre contre notre nature animale qui fait qu’il y a des viols, des charniers, des mutilations, des meurtres. Tous les jours. Notre nature humaine réclame de la bienveillance, de l’éducation et une vision partagée pour prendre le dessus. Elle nous demande de prendre du recul sur nos émotions.

Nous sommes en guerre contre notre auto-destruction en tant qu’espèce. Les conflits sont climatiques (cache) et ne pourront s’apaiser dans un écosystème qui change à une telle vitesse. Le danger n’est pas la surpopulation mais la sur-concentration de cette population qui cristallise les tensions et les haines.

Nous sommes en guerre depuis toujours, c’est ce qui nous pousse à progresser. Le numérique n’est qu’un catalyseur qui réduit le temps et l’espace, confisquant notre attention au service du marketing. Il est possible d’en faire autre chose, pour du bien commun, pour de l’entraide et de la réflexion distribuée.

Alors oui, nous sommes en guerre et cette guerre s’appelle vivre en communauté dans un espace fini. Je ne crois pas à l’insouciance perdue qu’il faudrait retrouver (cache), même collectivement. Saisissons cette chance pour prendre pleinement conscience ensemble de cet état avec du recul et du discernement. Nous reconstruisons ce monde chaque jour et je crois en notre capacité à le faire évoluer pour réunir les conditions propices à une vie digne pour tous. Nous avons le choix de voir nos enfants vivre en paix ou reposer en paix.

‘He turned out to be the same as every other politician.’ That was the complaint I kept hearing in Athens shortly after the leftist Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras had signed up to exactly the kind of bailout deal he once vehemently opposed. In reality, it was not so much that he was the same as other politicians as that he faced the same constraints as other Greek politicians: a failing economy, implacable creditors and frustrated fellow leaders. It was these external constraints that compelled him to act against his campaign rhetoric. The fact that Athenians were surprised and dismayed by this reflects a deeper problem with contemporary Western democracy – one to which their ancient forebears knew the solution.

Modern states are plagued by the problem of ‘rational ignorance’. The chance that any individual’s vote will make a difference is so vanishingly small that it would be irrational for anyone to bother taking a serious interest in the issues and candidates. And so, many people don’t – and then fall for implausible rhetoric. In this way, democracy has come to mean little more than electing politicians on the basis of their promises, then watching them fail to keep them.

This was not the case in the Athens of two and a half thousand years ago. Then, democracy – rule by the people – meant active participation in the running of the state, if not continually, then at least periodically throughout one’s life. As Aristotle put it: ‘to rule and be ruled in turn.’ This participation was a right but also a responsibility. It was intended not only to create a better state, but to create better citizens: engagement in the political process was an education in the soberingly complex realities of decision-making.

Male citizens were expected to serve not only in the army or on juries, as is the case with some modern states, but also to attend the main decision-making assembly in person. And while some executive offices were elected, most were selected by lottery – including that of Prime Minister, whose term of office was one day. Any male citizen could find himself representing his community, or receiving foreign dignitaries.

There is much we can learn from this. Modern states are of course much bigger than ancient Athens and, thankfully, have wider suffrage. Numbers alone mean we couldn’t all be Prime Minister for a day. But there is scope for government at every level – local, regional, national and international – to be made radically participatory. For example: legislative bodies could be wholly or partially selected by lottery. Obvious candidates are second chambers in bicameral parliaments, such as the British House of Lords.

Even better might be separate assemblies summoned to review each proposed new law or area of government. This would hugely increase the number of people involved in the legislative system. The ancient Athenians managed exactly this; today, digital technology would make it even easier.

In addition, civil services could be more open to internships and short-term appointments. Serving the state in this way (at some level) could even be compulsory, just as military service has been. Ad hoc one‑issue assemblies, citizen initiative programmes and wider consultation on legislation are all ways of including more people in the decision-making process.

Democracy need not mean voting for politicians who all turn out to be the same. It can mean ordinary people actively participating in governing themselves. As Aristotle knew, this would make for both wiser decisions and wiser citizens.

I used to think that religion is for weak people, people who prefers to delegate comfortably their thoughts and sometimes manpower to one central authority.

It hits me lately that politic follows the exact same pattern, annihilating any self-consciousness and thus self-esteem. Electing a president at the head of a nation creates the feeling that you did your job as a citizen for the next X years but being a citizen is not a one-shot, it’s a daily challenge to find your place in the society not as a consumer but as an actor. Our societies are relying on one person with his government to drive our countries for a few years without any long-term vision, a scapegoat for our lack of thinking, our lack of acting, our lack of humanity. Where is your dignity when you can’t even think and act by yourself?

In 1721, Montesquieu published his Persian letters and the 14th is very important to me, here is an extract (in French) but I recommend the whole reading:

O Troglodites, what moves you to this; uprightness becomes a burden to you. In your present condition, having no head, you are constrained in your own despite to be virtuous; otherwise your very existence would be at stake, and you would relapse into the wretched state of your ancestors. But this seems to you too heavy a yoke; you would rather become the subjects of a king, and submit to laws of his framing-laws less exacting than your present customs. You know that then you would be able to satisfy your ambition, and while away the time in slothful luxury; and that, provided you avoided the graver crimes, there would be no necessity for virtue.

Such an idealist! Nobody can live and work in this context today. Virtue, really? Almost a hundred of geeks at Github are proving that it’s possible, see that blog post from Ryan Tomayko:

Telling people what to do is lazy. Instead, try to convince them with argument. This is how humans interact when there’s no artificial authority structure and it works great. If you can’t convince people through argument then maybe you shouldn’t be doing it. […] Essentially, I try to create little mini-managers, each responsible for managing a single person: their self.

Confirmed by Brandon Keepers, working there for 6 months:

Anarchy works wonderfully in a small group of individuals with a high level of trust. Everyone at GitHub has full access and permission to do whatever they want. Do great things and you earn respect. Abuse that freedom and you violate everyone’s trust.

Marriage is another way of delegation, behind the love story that’s a way to state administratively (and sometimes religiously) that you’re forming a couple. Validating your love by a piece of sheet and a ring instead of daily attention, it surely deserves a huge celebration in our attention-deficient world.

That’s why I’m agnostic. That’s why I’m a blank voter. That’s why I’m running my own company. That’s why I’m not married.

The worst part is that by delegating, you can loose your knowledge too. Think about it in our geeky world of Clouds, Proxys, Frameworks, each introducing more and more opaque layers.

We are Tailorizing the Web and soon nobody will be able anymore to put a service online without heavily relying on an uncontrolled — delegated — stack.

Plantes qui nettoient l'air.

n the past few decades, the fortunate among us have recognised the hazards of living with an overabundance of food (obesity, diabetes) and have started to change our diets. But most of us do not yet understand that news is to the mind what sugar is to the body. News is easy to digest. The media feeds us small bites of trivial matter, tidbits that don't really concern our lives and don't require thinking. That's why we experience almost no saturation. Unlike reading books and long magazine articles (which require thinking), we can swallow limitless quantities of news flashes, which are bright-coloured candies for the mind. Today, we have reached the same point in relation to information that we faced 20 years ago in regard to food. We are beginning to recognise how toxic news can be.

News misleads. Take the following event (borrowed from Nassim Taleb). A car drives over a bridge, and the bridge collapses. What does the news media focus on? The car. The person in the car. Where he came from. Where he planned to go. How he experienced the crash (if he survived). But that is all irrelevant. What's relevant? The structural stability of the bridge. That's the underlying risk that has been lurking, and could lurk in other bridges. But the car is flashy, it's dramatic, it's a person (non-abstract), and it's news that's cheap to produce. News leads us to walk around with the completely wrong risk map in our heads. So terrorism is over-rated. Chronic stress is under-rated. The collapse of Lehman Brothers is overrated. Fiscal irresponsibility is under-rated. Astronauts are over-rated. Nurses are under-rated.

We are not rational enough to be exposed to the press. Watching an airplane crash on television is going to change your attitude toward that risk, regardless of its real probability. If you think you can compensate with the strength of your own inner contemplation, you are wrong. Bankers and economists – who have powerful incentives to compensate for news-borne hazards – have shown that they cannot. The only solution: cut yourself off from news consumption entirely.

News is irrelevant. Out of the approximately 10,000 news stories you have read in the last 12 months, name one that – because you consumed it – allowed you to make a better decision about a serious matter affecting your life, your career or your business. The point is: the consumption of news is irrelevant to you. But people find it very difficult to recognise what's relevant. It's much easier to recognise what's new. The relevant versus the new is the fundamental battle of the current age. Media organisations want you to believe that news offers you some sort of a competitive advantage. Many fall for that. We get anxious when we're cut off from the flow of news. In reality, news consumption is a competitive disadvantage. The less news you consume, the bigger the advantage you have.

News has no explanatory power. News items are bubbles popping on the surface of a deeper world. Will accumulating facts help you understand the world? Sadly, no. The relationship is inverted. The important stories are non-stories: slow, powerful movements that develop below journalists' radar but have a transforming effect. The more "news factoids" you digest, the less of the big picture you will understand. If more information leads to higher economic success, we'd expect journalists to be at the top of the pyramid. That's not the case.

News is toxic to your body. It constantly triggers the limbic system. Panicky stories spur the release of cascades of glucocorticoid (cortisol). This deregulates your immune system and inhibits the release of growth hormones. In other words, your body finds itself in a state of chronic stress. High glucocorticoid levels cause impaired digestion, lack of growth (cell, hair, bone), nervousness and susceptibility to infections. The other potential side-effects include fear, aggression, tunnel-vision and desensitisation.

News increases cognitive errors. News feeds the mother of all cognitive errors: confirmation bias. In the words of Warren Buffett: "What the human being is best at doing is interpreting all new information so that their prior conclusions remain intact." News exacerbates this flaw. We become prone to overconfidence, take stupid risks and misjudge opportunities. It also exacerbates another cognitive error: the story bias. Our brains crave stories that "make sense" – even if they don't correspond to reality. Any journalist who writes, "The market moved because of X" or "the company went bankrupt because of Y" is an idiot. I am fed up with this cheap way of "explaining" the world.

News inhibits thinking. Thinking requires concentration. Concentration requires uninterrupted time. News pieces are specifically engineered to interrupt you. They are like viruses that steal attention for their own purposes. News makes us shallow thinkers. But it's worse than that. News severely affects memory. There are two types of memory. Long-range memory's capacity is nearly infinite, but working memory is limited to a certain amount of slippery data. The path from short-term to long-term memory is a choke-point in the brain, but anything you want to understand must pass through it. If this passageway is disrupted, nothing gets through. Because news disrupts concentration, it weakens comprehension. Online news has an even worse impact. In a 2001 study two scholars in Canada showed that comprehension declines as the number of hyperlinks in a document increases. Why? Because whenever a link appears, your brain has to at least make the choice not to click, which in itself is distracting. News is an intentional interruption system.

News works like a drug. As stories develop, we want to know how they continue. With hundreds of arbitrary storylines in our heads, this craving is increasingly compelling and hard to ignore. Scientists used to think that the dense connections formed among the 100 billion neurons inside our skulls were largely fixed by the time we reached adulthood. Today we know that this is not the case. Nerve cells routinely break old connections and form new ones. The more news we consume, the more we exercise the neural circuits devoted to skimming and multitasking while ignoring those used for reading deeply and thinking with profound focus. Most news consumers – even if they used to be avid book readers – have lost the ability to absorb lengthy articles or books. After four, five pages they get tired, their concentration vanishes, they become restless. It's not because they got older or their schedules became more onerous. It's because the physical structure of their brains has changed.

News wastes time. If you read the newspaper for 15 minutes each morning, then check the news for 15 minutes during lunch and 15 minutes before you go to bed, then add five minutes here and there when you're at work, then count distraction and refocusing time, you will lose at least half a day every week. Information is no longer a scarce commodity. But attention is. You are not that irresponsible with your money, reputation or health. Why give away your mind?

News makes us passive. News stories are overwhelmingly about things you cannot influence. The daily repetition of news about things we can't act upon makes us passive. It grinds us down until we adopt a worldview that is pessimistic, desensitised, sarcastic and fatalistic. The scientific term is "learned helplessness". It's a bit of a stretch, but I would not be surprised if news consumption, at least partially contributes to the widespread disease of depression.

News kills creativity. Finally, things we already know limit our creativity. This is one reason that mathematicians, novelists, composers and entrepreneurs often produce their most creative works at a young age. Their brains enjoy a wide, uninhabited space that emboldens them to come up with and pursue novel ideas. I don't know a single truly creative mind who is a news junkie – not a writer, not a composer, mathematician, physician, scientist, musician, designer, architect or painter. On the other hand, I know a bunch of viciously uncreative minds who consume news like drugs. If you want to come up with old solutions, read news. If you are looking for new solutions, don't.

Society needs journalism – but in a different way. Investigative journalism is always relevant. We need reporting that polices our institutions and uncovers truth. But important findings don't have to arrive in the form of news. Long journal articles and in-depth books are good, too.

I have now gone without news for four years, so I can see, feel and report the effects of this freedom first-hand: less disruption, less anxiety, deeper thinking, more time, more insights. It's not easy, but it's worth it.

Utilisation d'automates pour stocker des ensembles de chaînes. Sympa.

Behind this dynamic is a monoculture of money optimizing for more money. An investment mentality that hollows out our culture. Real estate is just one example. It’s happening across many segments of our society. And in each case, the existing community pays the price for the investor’s upside.

There are different forms of this dynamic.
A New York Times investigation found that just 158 families have provided nearly half the funding for presidential campaigns. What better investment than your own politician?

In music, 80% of the concert industry is owned by Ticketmaster. A diverse universe of record labels is steadily consolidating down. A shocking percentage of Top 40 hits are written by four Scandinavian men.

In Hollywood, it’s sequels, prequels, and risk-averse exploitations of existing IP — now in IMAX and 3D!

In tech, many investors’ first question for entrepreneurs is “what’s your exit strategy?” Big rounds, big burn rates, and big valuations push startups in the same direction. Maximize growth so you can eventually maximize money for yourself and somebody else.
When everyone is optimizing for money, the effects on society are horrific. It produces graphs that are up and to the right for all the wrong reasons.

We can’t assume that this will work itself out. As money maximization continues, all of us — and the poor and disempowered especially — face a bleak future. This model is only interested in supporting those that can afford to buy in.

It feels like we’ve been auto-subscribed to a newsletter that’s sending increasingly depressing emails. How do we get off this ride?

Do we stay opted in? Or do we opt out?
If you stay opted in and play the game, the ultimate best case is you’re one of the few that gets rich. Later you can give some money away to charity. But other than your bank account, little has changed. The existing structure is reinforced.
Do we opt out? Imagining opting out is emotionally satisfying.
“I might delete Facebook today.”
“I’ll go back to my Razr phone.”
“Maybe I’ll try homesteading.”

But to do any of these means becoming a ghost to your community. It’s impractical. Very few of us ever follow through.
Is there a third option? I think so. I don’t have a fully-fledged plan, but I have some thoughts on where we can start.

Number 1: Don’t sell out.
At some point in the past ten years, selling out lost its stigma. I come from the Kurt Cobain/“corporate rock still sucks” school where selling out was the worst thing you could ever do. We should return to that.
Don’t sell out your values, don’t sell out your community, don’t sell out the long term for the short term. Do something because you believe it’s wonderful and beneficial, not to get rich.
And — very important — if you plan to do something on an ongoing basis, ensure its sustainability. This means your work must support your operations and you don’t try to grow beyond that without careful planning. If you do those things you can easily maintain your independence.

Number 2: Be idealistic.
Always act with integrity. Really be clear about the things that drive you. Remember the lessons your parents and grandparents taught you about how to treat people and make sure your business lives up to that.
Don’t sink into the morass of “industry standards.” Don’t succumb to the inertia of the status quo. Don’t stop exploring new ideas. A small number of people can change how society works. It’s happened before and it will happen again.
There are some great examples to look to for inspiration.

Patagonia is a Benefit Corporation that will share proprietary information with competitors if it will help the environment.
REI is a co-op that announced they’re closed on Black Friday and they’re encouraging their employees to “opt-outside” instead.

Basecamp and the Hype Machine are independent software companies that put their products and life experience ahead of creating massive growth curves. Ten years in and they’re independent and going strong.

Another inspiration is Fugazi and their label, Dischord Records. From playing all-ages $5 shows to running an independent label for 30 years, we can recontextualize them as entrepreneurial heroes. Look at that photo — that could be a founding tech team. There’s even an office dog!
What these businesses have in common is that they are clear on their purpose and they follow a strict code in its pursuit. They don’t want to be everything to everybody. They just want to be themselves.

This thinking is very contrary to the current business zeitgeist, which is all about aggression and being big and fast. Everyone wants to be Napoleon. And we all know how that turned out.
Look at the language on that cover: “be paranoid,” “go to war.” Its violence suggests that being ruthless is the only way to survive. We all hear this tone all around us.
When I became the CEO of Kickstarter two years ago, this tone created a crisis for me. I had never approached my work as something to be done aggressively, but with the weight of the new job and those external voices on my shoulders, I suddenly had doubts. Is that who I needed to be as CEO? Everywhere I looked I saw messages of anxiety and fear. I questioned my instincts and who I was as a person.

Then I read Not For Bread Alone. Konosuke Matsushita ran a company in Japan for many years with a clear ethos. His philosophy was to always act creatively and with integrity, to pursue a positive impact on society, and to encourage collaboration among his team. It’s an ethos that’s as right today as it was then. It confirmed that I didn’t have to play the fear game.
Approaching your work with thoughtfulness at the core is challenging. You’re going against the grain. Your tools of measurement are very different from your peers. It’s easy to doubt yourself — I still do it all the time.

But in more important ways, it’s so much easier. You’re free to act with conviction. You can say and do what you believe is right. Your principles will still be tested, but you can respond in ways that will make you, your community, and your family proud.
It’s not about conquering the world, it’s about doing the right thing. When done correctly, this creates the ultimate product-market fit.

Community supported agriculture is a great example of this. A farm produces its crop for a community of people who receive the bounty every week. The value created and shared is balanced.

We want Kickstarter to be similarly in sync with society. Earlier this year we became a Public Benefit Corporation. This means we are legally obligated to consider the impact of our decisions on society, not just our shareholders. It’s very different from the expectation that for profit companies maximize shareholder value above all. It acknowledges and embraces that you are a part of a larger community.

We don’t expect everyone doing a Kickstarter project to become a Public Benefit Corporation, or to even care. We want artists and creators to be able to create and build for their own reasons — not just for money. No single mentality is forced on anyone. It’s a polyculture of aspirations and motivations — just as it should be.

Walking around NYC and seeing a bank on every corner is depressing, but the monoculture’s reign is impermanent. As more of us challenge the status quo, change will spark and spread. The hollowness and corruption of the pursuit of profit above all is obvious to even those who practice it. A new approach founded on a diversity of thought and experience can and will thrive.
I don’t know what the exact right steps are to change all of this. This is just me thinking out loud about something that doesn’t get talked about enough. My hope in sharing it is that someone here can build on these ideas, and make them even better. Ultimately this is going to have to be a group effort.
But we want to be very clear on where we at Kickstarter stand on this. Internally we have a Mission & Philosophy handbook that was written by our founder, Perry Chen. Its final page says it all:

Thanks for your time, and thanks for listening.