In a few hours I’ll be doing a session at SXSW ‘08 called The Futurist’s Sandbox: Scenarios for Social Technologies in 2025, with my colleagues Wayne Pethrick, Jamais Casico, Stuart Candy and Jake Dunagan. As the title suggests, we’re presenting four “experiential” scenarios that explore how social technologies might evolve over the next few decades.  What are experential scenarios? They’re scenarios that engage the audience in the narrative of the future story; as such they’re much more interesting to tell (and watch) and give you a hands-on feel for what the future might look like, rather than a written story in which you’re left to imagine the details in your head. Since we have the last session of the conference and I fully intend to go directly from there to the nearest party, here’s a sneak peak at my scenario, called Can You See Me Now?

As information technologies continue to propagate the world, the electronic exhaust of our click stream is generating unprecedented amounts of metadata.  Rather than a useless by-product however, metadata is a valuable resource, an untapped gold mine of previously invisible patterns, intentions and relationships.  How can we recycle and repurpose metadata to expose the hidden layers of connections between people, objects and environments? In the future will we use metadata judiciously, or will we create a world of information obesity?  How will social technolgies instantiate themselves in a world scaffolded by metadata?  Maybe they’ll look something like this:

The Unauthorized Lifelog of Cory Doctorow, Volumes 1 - 6 (pre-release, March 2025)

Turn objects into Blogjects with DNA Markers, customizable with your DNA

The new bling: iCandy contact lens stream up to 5000 info channels directly to your eye

The Emotional Forecast

Protect yourself against anger mobs with Anger Away!

More notes on the session and descriptions of all the scenarios will be up soon.  Many, many thanks to Pinkergreen Design for creating the above future artifacts!

Note: these are running notes LIFT ‘08.  For more complete blog coverage, check out the official LIFT conference blog or LunchOverIP.

On the outside, Kevin Warwick looks like your typical middle-aged, mild-mannered Brit. On the inside, however, he’s jacked his body up with most of the technology you’d find in your living room.  His experiments with neural implants, RFID sensors and robotic arms have earned him the title of the world’s first cyborg. 

Kevin’s theory is simple: as human beings, we have very limited senses - just five to be exact, and none of them particularly noteworthy.  Collectively, dogs, cats and bats outweigh us from a sensory perspective.  But why should we be satisfied with the genetic equivalent of second-place?  Why not use technology to extend our senses, to give us super-sonic hearing or ‘bionic’ eyesight?

For both ethical and legal reasons (”I’d never get permission for a test group”) Warwick has conducted his “cyborg” experiments on himself and his wife.  In the first, he implanted a tiny RFID tag into his arm which, connected to his computer, allowed him to control the doors and lights in his lab as well as operate a robotic arm some 5000km away.  In effect, his arm had its own IP address.  Another experiment extended his sensory range, in essence giving him an extra sonar sense: blindfolded he could “sense” (like a bat) when an object came close to him, just from the impulses in his arm.

In a later experiment, Warwick connected (via another set of implants) both his and his wife’s nervous systems: when he moved his hand, she felt the impulses, creating a nascent form of telegraphic communication between their nervous systems. He cautions that these are early-stage experiments, that it will be decades before brain-to-brain communication becomes a reality.  But the question is out there: what happens when it does?

As usual, Kevin captivates the audience - he’s funny, articulate and completely engaging.  Perhaps it’s his guy-next-door persona that makes the message all the more potent: maybe cyborgs of the future will look less like the Terminator and more like Mr. Rodgers.

I’ve heard Kevin speak before, and was grateful for the opportunity to spend the day with him last year in his lab at University of Reading, where he is a professor of cybernetics.  The hype around him abounds, but while he likes to play the cyborg, my sense is that his real passion is improving the human condition.  The possibilities of super-sonic senses may sound narcissistic, but side-effects of the research (ie, a cure for Parkinson’s disease) are anything but.  To cure neurological disorders or repair damaged or severed limbs (of which there are record numbers of in returning war veterans) we need to come to grips - both scientifically and culturally - with a new concept of what the human body, indeed a human being, can be.  

As I scroll through the 700 emails in my inbox, I mumble the prayer to St. Anthony, patron saint of missing things.

I’m giving a speech next month and the organizers need my picture to include in the conference program. I’m positive that the photo, a mid-life version of my high school yearbook picture - is in here, buried under an avalanche of emails. I’ve realized that Gmail has become my personal bunker - the endless vault where I greedily stockpile thousands of emails and files, rationalizing my electronic hoarding with the Just In Case theory. That is, “just in case I spill diet coke on my laptop again”… or “just in case my dog chews up my memory key”… or “just in case planetary sunspots cause freak electrical storms and my hard drive is fried like an egg”. Given any of these scenarios, thanks to Gmail’s unlimited storage space, I’ll be able to recover all of the emails, files and digital photos which make up the electronic anthology of my life. Such as picture I’m looking for.

Which I still can’t find. I’ve searched dozens of keywords - “picture” “michele” “speeches”. Nothing. Thirty-two agonizing minutes later I find it. Of course, it’s not labeled something simple, something obvious - Michele’s Picture, for example. Instead, in a fit of fuzzy logic, I apparently chose to name this particular file “MB Headshot.”

So goes the paradox of the ?information’ age. To effectively navigate the web, I have to name what I’m looking for, which is a little like saying “I could find the sweater I lost if I just remembered where I put it.” Despite Google’s ability to searchthree gazillion websites before I can finish typing the query; in spite of the plethora of social media tagging sites such as digg.comand del.icio.us, search is still somewhat of a crap shoot. This is because the underlying search function works on the assumption that my mental filing system makes sense, which often it does not.

When it comes to searching effectively, we’re still stuck in the Middle Ages, that is, the purgatory between Web 1.0 and 2.0. Search today is conceptual and one-dimensional, it relies on abstract concepts and clumsy language constructs; do a search for “toast” and you’ll likely get as many hits for clever wedding speeches as you do for breakfast food.

And the problem will only get worse. The most prominent language in the world today isn’t English or Spanish or even Mandarin - it’s binary code. The language of 1s and 0s is dematerializing our world. Physical objects are increasingly transmogrified from atoms to bits. Who needs Blockbuster when you can get the streaming bits - minus the plastic packaging, the late fees and the obsolete DVD player - from YouTube??

As we overpopulate the planet with bits and bytes, the ability to understand and explore our world will depend on new approaches to search and rescue (or search and destroy, as the case may be). Current strategies to improving search have centered on inventing increasingly complex algorithms, but a simpler answer might (literally) be right under our nose.

Researchers at the University of Glasgow have created a computer program which allows users to attach distinctive smells to digital photos. Called Olfoto, the program uses an array of cube-shaped capsules, similar to an ink jet printer cartridge, each of which contain a unique smell - the scent of an open wood fire, for example, or the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The capsules release a different fragrance when activated electronically so that when a particular image appears on-screen a user can “tag” it with a scent. They can then sort through their image collections simply by sniffing.

The idea - pardon the pun - a potent one. Humans can smell approximately 10,000 odors. Scents are powerful memory tags. While I remember next to nothing from 3 years of Japanese classes, one whiff of Jagermeister triggers a gag reflex that instantly reminds me of the most important lesson I learned in college (which is of course, that one should never, ever drink Jagermeister).

In the future, we’ll need a multi-sensory approach to navigate the dematerialized world. In this way, Olfoto may ultimately become an important social and business tool, adding another dimension to our ability to communicate. Emails from your ex may smell like skunk. The quarterly finance reports might exude the aroma of champagne or sour milk, depending on the market results. And just so you know, if you want me to read your email, make it smell like freshly baked cookies.