Over the past few months, it was attacks on Google buses in San Francisco and Oakland that made headlines and showed how anti-techie resentment is spreading throughout the Bay Area.
Now comes the latest chapter: a “tech consultant” showing off her Google Glass in a bar in the Haight district was attacked for reasons known only to her attackers, who have not been apprehended. But I think we can surmise what their motives were, and they’re connected with the unease many of us feel about social media in general and the increasing absorption people have with [or in] their mobile devices. (P.S. I am NOT condoning violence! Just trying to fathom the depth of the anger toward tech that’s such big news out here.)
The issue can perhaps be summed up by this observation from a bar owner (not the one where the woman was attacked) quoted in the article: “If you’re old enough to be in a bar, you should be old enough to have conversation with other adults. When you’re in a bar with Google Glass, it’s like saying, ‘I’m only halfway here. I’ll be checking my phone.’”
“Only halfway here…”. Who hasn’t had the experience of being with someone, having a conversation you thought you both were enjoying, when suddenly the other person checks his cell phone? I don’t know about you, but when that happens to me, I feel as though I’ve been dismissed–from the conversation, from the person’s mind, from his consideration. It is–to use an old word–rude, and I was raised (mainly thanks to my southern-born mother) not to be a rude person.
Is it rude to wear Google Glass in a bar? I can infer myself into the heads of people who would be upset about it. For one thing, you don’t know if the glass-wearer is photographing or videotaping you. Surely, people have the right to object to being recorded by a stranger in a public place. But a Google Glass wearer seems to be saying, “I really don’t care if you object to being photographed, I’m going to do it anyway if I want to, and I don’t have to ask for your permission.” Nor is it pleasant to think that the glass wearer might post your image all around the Internet (which is to say, all around the world), with possibly offensive or taunting comments.
The reason why we have to get a handle on this, now, is because the technology is only going to become smarter, and more intrusive. How long will it be before Google Glass can see under clothing or through a thin partition? We know about the problem of spy cams. Google Glass could be far more nefarious.
What’s the connection between Google Glass and attacking Google buses (other than the brand name)? The emotions are similar. People smashing Google buses are worried about getting squeezed out of their neighborhoods, and sometimes their city, by high-paid techies who seem interested only in their jobs and their friends, not the traditional cultural mores of the neighborhood. That rap is, admittedly, not entirely fair; but it is understandable, given the increasing numbers of people who no longer can afford to live in San Francisco, a city they love and presumably don’t want to leave. I know this for a fact: many of these folks are moving to my neighborhood (San Francisco’s loss is Oakland’s gain).
Thus the bus attacks are symbols of the increasing unease with the way technology is altering, and intruding upon and disrupting, our lives. The attackers obviously know that the buses are not the cause of high rents and evictions. They know that throwing a brick through a bus window won’t solve a thing. But they vent their anger on the buses, the same way the Boston Tea Party patriots vented their anger on innocent crates of tea, by dumping them into the harbor.
And what’s the connection to the unease about social media? The absorption some people have in it. Is it really better and more satisfying to stare into a tiny screen and tap out text messages on a bus or subway, instead of talking to the person sitting next to you, or just quietly contemplating existence? I’m not saying that the use of social media isn’t a wonderful thing, useful, entertaining and important to stay in touch with far-flung friends and family. Heck, I’m using social media right now, on this blog. But at some point, its overuse is cause for concern. When I have to be extra vigilant walking down the sidewalk because someone is coming towards me with his nose glued to a device, something’s wrong. People used to nod their heads and smile when passing strangers on the street. Now, they don’t even see them.
I think the burgeoning reaction against tech has to do with the end of human engagement as we’ve known it, an alarming possibility suggested by the bar owner’s “only halfway here” remark. Humans have spent millennia learning how to get along with each other in crowded spaces. It’s not always easy. Some things make it harder. Google Glass may be one of them.
Look: I’m no Luddite. No one can stop the march of technology, nor should anyone want to. But we have to find a balance. That’s why I, and millions of others, are dead set against allowing cell phone conversations on airline flights. That would be going over the edge, a serious disruption to our ability to dwell together in peace. When it comes to Google Glass, people are going to have to learn to be civil and appropriate with its use. Going into a crowded bar wearing one may not be the best idea, if it upsets so many people, which apparently it does. There’s already a term being bandied about out here about people who wear Google Glass in public: they’re Glassholes.
Anyway–having got that off my chest–I’m in beautiful but stormy Santa Barbara, at World of Pinot Noir, which begins this morning. I’ll update as frequently as I can over the next two days.
They call it “the gig economy,” a “growing tribe of independent contractors and freelancers who are hoping to transform hardship into opportunity on the sidelines of the nation’s traditional 9-to-5 economy,” in the words of a recent New York Times story.
The article reported on people in their 20s and 30s who, unable to land “real” jobs in this post-Recession economy, opt for the freelance life. Not only writers, but lawyers, website developers and many others, they exist from gig to gig, working out of their homes, or from wi-fi enabled coffeeshops, enjoying the freedom their unemployed lives give them–but worried also about paying the bills, much less saving anything for their retirement.
From the perspective of journalism, including wine writing, the gig economy should worry consumers who want solid, honest reporting. You can argue that a reporter who doesn’t actually work for anyone is all the more independent, because she doesn’t have to be concerned with how her publisher, editors, company CEO or advertisers feel. Instead, she can fearlessly investigate and report the news, and offer opinions (e.g. wine reviews) that are fiercely objective.
True. But there’s a risk in going the independent path. Several risks, actually. They include:
1. Not having the solid bench of staff a reporter needs to do the job properly. An old-fashioned newspaper had copy editors, fact checkers, librarians, ombudsmen and others who, working alongside the reporter, can ensure the greatest depth and credibility to her stories.
2. Working a consistent beat. Print reporters generally specialized: you had the police guy, the City Council guy, the science writer, the sports guy, the style writer, and so on. Specializing meant that the writer could get really knowledgeable about his field, getting to know the major personalities and thus offering a value-added perspective. In the new gig economy, it’s hard to get a job that’s consistent, and so the writer is forced to write about whatever he can get paid for at that moment (or whatever wine is coming in, willy nilly). It’s a scattershot way of reporting.
I don’t mean to suggest that wine writers in the gig economy can’t be good. They can. But it’s going to be increasingly hard for them to make a living, because wages in the gig economy just aren’t very high. That’s the whole point of a gig economy: it provides cheap labor to employers, who not only don’t have to pay well, but also don’t have to shell out benefits. And as low as the pay is, it can be even lower when the number of job applicants exceeds the number of job opportunities–as it the case with wine writing today.
What is all means for the future of wine writing is obscure. But it is very hard to escape the suspicion, or dread, that wine writing’s glory days are coming to an end. Not tomorrow. Not in five years. But in twenty? Unless there’s some kind of major shift in the paradigm–and I don’t know anyone who thinks well-paid wine writers are coming back.
Why are some people so (anonymously) nasty on the Internet? It’s really the saddest aspect of a digital community that, aside from that, is a pretty nice place to hang out.
My old friend Wilfred Wong posted on Facebook an unsigned email he got, (you’ll have to scroll down on Wilfred’s feed to the post that begins “Today was a day of mixed blessings”) from a person who obviously has (a) anger management issues and (b) too much time on his or hands or (c) both. Now, Wilfred, for those who don’t know who he is (and I would assume most of my readers do), is the Cellar Master at BevMo, the big liquor chain with a gazillion outlets in the Far West. His primary job, as he writes, “is researching wines (and now beer and spirits) for their quality.” I’ve known Wilfred longer than anyone else I know in the wine industry. We met around 1982. I was a novice: he already was knee-deep in wine, literally. So Wilfred’s had a lot of experience.
Which gets to the point. Why do so many people in the wine social media world think that experience is bad? It doesn’t make sense. Throughout all of human history, societies have respected their more experienced members, whether they be shamans, healers or hunters. These are the members who hold the society together–who constitute its collective memory–who form a living link between Now and The Past. Yes, every now and then there are revolutions–none more noteworthy than our own American–but even when we won, we respected older traditions of honesty, integrity, fairness. Those were not American values; they were human values.
But now, especially in the wine blogosphere and on Twitter, we have arrived at a period of incivility. People feel free to insult others with far more accomplishments than their own–and they do it all too often anonymously. Perhaps even more appalling is when they reveal their identities: then their attacks are done with impunity.
Here’s my message to the coward who emailed Wilfred: You try doing what he’s done. Try lasting 30-plus years at the top of your profession, earning not just good money but the love and respect of your peers throughout the industry. (If you want proof of that love and respect, read through the comments on Wilfred’s post.)
By the way, trashing a big box store like BevMo is the height of arrogance. It’s like the people who only drink expensive wine and think average-priced wine is for “the little people who pay taxes” (as Leona Helmsley once described us). For one thing, BevMo has some very fine wines, but that’s beside the point: What’s important is that BevMo gives value in wine to millions of Americans. What’s wrong with that? And Wilfred, through his service, makes their shopping experience a lot easier and more delightful than it would otherwise be.
So please, you harpies out there taking aim at Baby Boomer writers and critics, chill. You won’t get anywhere just hurling spears. If you want to achieve a career in the wine industry, I suggest you do exactly what Wilfred has done: hunker down, work hard, make friends and be respectful. That’s always been the way success comes.
Today I’m headed up to Santa Rosa to speak at Adam Japko’s Multifamily Social Media Summit. Here’s a summary of what I’ll say. First, I’ll welcome the guests to Sonoma County, and try to describe a little bit about what makes it such a great home to wine. I’ve long thought of Sonoma as “California’s winiest county” (which is how I described it in A Wine Journey along the Russian River), and I think it’s fair to say that no other county has the breadth and depth of varieties and types (including sparkling wine) that Sonoma does.
Adam also asked me to talk a little about how I got into wine, so I’ll describe the way I fell head over heels in love with vino in 1978, getting deeper and deeper into it until I moved to San Francisco, in 1980, and became a denizen of the city’s better wine shops (which back then you could count on the finger of both hands). I’ll describe my career thus far and how I landed the job of reviewing California wine for Wine Enthusiast.
Since this is a social media event, I’ll talk about my own experiences in this sphere–about how and why I started my blog in 2008. (I can hardly believe it’s been that long.) Adam’s main thing, of course, is to promote the use of social media as a tool for busy professionals (this particular event is for apartment complex managers who want to learn how to use social media to make their jobs easier and better). I’m not particularly in a position to advise them on that, but what I can do is describe how my blog has made my life easier and better, and also how it’s contributed to my “brand.”
Now, I don’t really think of myself as a “brand,” but I know that some people do, because they tell me so; and Adam himself sees me that way. (Of course, he also sees me as a human being and a friend, which is how I want to be seen!). However, I’m objective enough to understand that there is a sort of branding process going on with me, in terms of having a reputation, and Adam wants to know how my reputation (or the way I perceive it) has been impacted by my blog.
I suppose–and, again, this is based on what people tell me–that my reputation has been enhanced by it. I don’t mean “enhanced” in terms of people thinking better or more highly of me, but in the sense that more people have heard of me because of my blog. It’s quantitative enhancement, if you will, not qualitative enhancement. I think Adam is eager for the apartment complex managers to hear from someone who started out as a total ignoramus when it came to blogging, and ended up with quite a successful little blog–not financially, for this gig doesn’t make any money, but in terms of being popular.
Here are tips I’ll give the apartment managers for a blog (and many of these tips can be extended to other forms of social media as well:
1. post frequently.
2. post with passion.
3. personalize your posts. Don’t write like you’re some anonymous automaton. Let people feel your humanity through your words.
4. provide links, where appropriate, to off-site pages that bolster your arguments or otherwise amplify your message.
5. provide photos and/or videos.
6. don’t take criticism too seriously. I doubt if apartment complex managers will get the same kind of slamming I sometimes do, but if they do, they should laugh it off.
7. don’t expect an immediate return on your investment. In fact, you might never see ROI, measured as dollars. The point of blogging, and social media in general, is brand building. Which leads to my final discussion
What is “brand building”? I would argue it’s none other than forming relationships. In the case of social media, they’re digital relationships, but that’s all right, they’re still relationships. You have conversations with others that are real-time, and this allows readers to feel that they’re part of your life. Or, more correctly, that both of you are part of a bigger social life. Partners, in a sense–co-participants in something grand and lovely. That’s how it seems to me: my biggest gripe with winery social media (including web pages) is that the content often seems grudging. It’s like they feel they have to put something up, but it’s not grand or lovely, not personal, not selfless. Selfless? Yes. You can’t be holding onto something and be successful at social media. The late sports writer Red Smith was said to have replied, in response to whether writing a daily column wasn’t hard, “Why, no. You simply sit down at the typewriter, open your veins, and bleed.” He didn’t mean that literally, obviously, and he didn’t mean that it was an incredibly difficult thing to do. What he meant by “bleed” is what we might call “letting it all hang out.” Putting all your cards on the table–being genuine. Social media types call it being “authentic” and “transparent,” and it’s hard to explain; you just have to learn how to be that way (and you can’t be that way online if you’re not that way offline, in real life).
Does that sound a bit esoteric? I suppose it does. But it’s what I’m going to tell the apartment complex managers.
I’m off to ZAP this morning. It’s the first time I’ve gone to the nation’s biggest Zinfandel festival (it is, isn’t it?) in some years. I stopped attending when it was down at Fort Mason, a pretty place but difficult to get to. They had 20,000 people packed into those old piers, and the toilets all broke down, so people were doing what people do
right in the Bay. The men, anyway. It was hopeless to try and get any serious tasting or even talking done, so I gave up on ZAP.
This year, however, one of the ZAP organizers reached out to me to explain about “the dramatic changes” that have been made. Chief among them is that the event (now called The Zinfandel Experience) been moved out of Fort Mason and into multiple locations, spread out over several days. The number of attendees at any given location will thus be considerably reduced. The event I’m going to this morning is at the Four Seasons Hotel, and is called “Flights! Forums of Flavors.” We’ll be tasting wines from historic vineyards, and I’ll report more on this on Monday morning.
Incidentally, I tasted about 350 Zinfandels in 2013, and my two highest-scoring ones were a pair of 2011s from Williams Selyem, the Papera and Bacigalupi. Funny, we were just talking the other day about how Bacigalupi was the source of some of the Chardonnay that went into that famous 1973 Chateau Montelena. Other top Zins I reviewed last year include Dry Creek Vineyard 2011 Somers Ranch, Seghesio 2010 Cortina, Gary Farrell 2011 Maffei and Ravenswood 2010 Old Hill. All from Sonoma County, by the way. There is a Sonoma Zinfandel character across the county’s many appellations: a sort of essence-of-Zin zinniness that’s briary, brambly, peppery, tingly in acidity and stuffed with wild, sun-baked red fruits and berries. I always find something rustic about Sonoma Zin, too, whereas Napa Zins are more elegantly tailored–Armani to Sonoma’s L.L. Bean.
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But before the Zinfandel thing, I’ll stop by the San Francisco Chronicle’s historic old building, at Fifth and Mish (as we say). The publisher has invited me to be part of some kind of subscriber advisory group. This is because I am a longtime subscriber, but also because I write a lot of letters to the editor, and I also gripe to the publisher when I think the paper has done something stupid. So the paper sees me as a loyal fan, which I am, and they evidently think it’s a good idea to reach out to their subscribers, which it is.
I’m big on reading newspapers, a practice that seems to be dying out in America, and that’s a pity. A free, flourishing press always has been a central tent pole in our democracy. Lord knows a big, spread-out place like the Bay Area needs things to knit it together, and what better way to foster a sense of community than the local newspaper?
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While we’re on the subject of my schedule, next Wednesday I’m a speaker at Adam Japko’s “Multifamily Social Media Summit” up in Santa Rosa. Adam, for those who know him, is one of the most brilliant minds in the country when it comes to social media. He does more than talk about it, though; he’s an entrepreneur who puts together social media-themed events. This one is for a group of apartment complex managers who want to learn how to use social media in their jobs. When Adam first asked me to speak, I expressed some astonishment that apartment complex managers would be interested in a wine critic. Adam explained that they would be, that I should just be myself and talk about what I do, how I do it, and how I use social media. So that’s what I plan to do. The other speaker is my friend, Adam Lee, the co-proprietor of the Siduri and Novy brands. He’ll bring some of his wines, so we’ll have good stuff to drink.
Have a great weekend!
Bloggers have long identified themselves as having the same right to express their opinions through reportage as do traditional journalists writing for newspapers, AKA “the mainstream media,” even though they may have had no formal journalistic training, and no editors or fact-checkers are around to make sure they get their facts straight.
Now, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, based here in San Francisco, apparently agrees. In a ruling that hasn’t attracted the attention it should, they threw out most of a lawsuit against a blogger, Crystal Cox, who had been sued for defamation by a investment consulting company, Obsidian Finance Group, after Cox accused them of “fraud, corruption and other misconduct” on her blog, crystalcox.com.
A self-described “investigative blogger,” Cox, who defended herself in the lawsuit, argued [as she wrote on her blog] that “Bloggers have Equality [sic] with reporters such as the New York Times” and that, in essence, if a newspaper like the Times can make allegations against public officials or corporations, so can she, as an “Anti-Corruption Blogger[s], Whistleblower[s], and Citizen Journalist[s].”
That stance is what the Court of Appeals agreed with. The Court determined that “The protections of the 1st Amendment do not turn on whether the defendant was a trained journalist, formally affiliated with traditional news entities.”
No one disagreed that Cox’s blog postings were, in the Los Angeles Times’ words, “rants [to the] extreme.” Rather, the Court ruled that, since Cox did not act with “actual malice,” she had the right to express herself.
I have no idea if Cox is correct or not; that’s not the point. But journalists and First Amendment defenders no doubt will celebrate this ruling. I do; I would not want to see a blogger self-censor herself, out of fear of being sued by a big, wealthy, bullying corporation. But this case does raise troubling questions.
Granted that a blogger has the right to publish her rants, does that give him or her credibility?
Ought the public to believe “investigative blogging” in which no editor or fact-checker is present as a balancing restraint, as is the case with newspapers?
How can the public determine the accuracy of blogs, a medium notoriously devoid of traditional ethical and publishing standards (e.g., the reporter has to have multiple sources for each assertion, and there has to be a bright line between editorial, on the one hand, and opinion, on the other)?
Can the public know for sure that a blogger does not have ulterior motives? Newspaper reporters are much less likely to have hidden agendas precisely because their work is scrutinized by editors, and they ultimately are answerable to (and fireable by) a publisher.
Better yet, how can we educate the public to be discerning when they digest the content of blogs?
These questions become even more poignant when we consider that traditional journalism is being challenged by blogs and other forms of self-publishing on the Internet and “alternative media,” in this post-Citizens United atmosphere. The First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution mandates that “Congress” [i.e. the Government] “shall make no law…abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press…”). “The press” later was defined, by the U.S. Supreme Court, as “every sort of publication which affords a vehicle of information and opinion.” It was this sweeping definition, which obviously includes blogs, that the Court of Appeals apparently subscribed to in their decision.
But we are entering into dangerous waters when we have an increasingly powerful “Press” that is devoid of traditional restraints against unproven and unresearched allegations. I hardly need point out a growing section of the American population that believes nothing the Mainstream Media says–and turns instead to “journalistic sources” (including blogs) that are patently nothing more than mouthpieces for (often unidentified) corporate, political and personal interests, regardless of whatever claims they make of serving the public interest.
The balancing act American journalism must tread is one between First Amendment rights, including the right to self-publish a blog, and the preservation of some standard of truth by which to judge published claims. We should celebrate diversity of opinion, of course, but we also should insist on a strict adherence to facts and their correct interpretation.
No easy task.