Selected quotes from some of the best speakers at TEDGlobal 2012

“Your brand is what other people say about you when you’re not in the room.” Tim Lebrecht

“We need to find ethical ways of prescribing placebos.” Jill Blakeway

“Louis Vuitton is the opiate for the Chinese upper classes today.” Robyn Meredith

“None of the threats to the global commons will be solved by building walls.” Admiral James Stavridis

“We’re not on a journey to a goal, the goal is with us changing with us.” John Cage quoted by Anthony Gormley

“The elemental world we all live in is the darkness of the body.” Anthony Gormley

“Educational grading has become degrading.” Simon Schocken

“We never see what is there, we only see what it was useful to see in the past.” Beau Lotto

“The 21st Century is not familiar to us, so we spend our time responding to a world that no longer exists.” Eddie Obeng

“Being open to the concept that globalisation is only 10-20% complete leaves room for some expectation that there might be more gains to be achieved from further integration.” Pankay Ghemawat

“People say that changing education systems is like moving graveyards, you can’t rely on the people out there to help you.” Andreas Schleider

“Our internationalism is the driver of our nationalism.” Alex Salmond

“European data retention is a blueprint for how to control a society.” Malte Spitz

“The Church of TED is very optimistic. Bulgarians are some of the most pessimistic in the world. There are the Happy, the Unhappy and the Bulgarians.” Ivan Krastev

“Transparency is not about restoring trust to institutions, it’s about managing mistrust.” Ivan Krastev

“Anonymous activities are Ultra Coordinated Motherfuckary. The internet will judge the operations of governments, states, and institutions.” Gabriella Coleman

“Just because a worker spends time making a piece of something does not mean that she becomes that thing.” Lesley Chang

“The things we buy or have around the home or office are not what they seem to be. They are not about what we think they are in the world.” Lesley Chang

“Knowledge comes from our senses, extend our senses and we extend our knowledge. Let’s stop building apps for mobile phones and start building apps for our bodies.” Neil Harbisson

“Everyone becomes psychotic in his or her own way.” Elyn Saks

“Why is that when people become ill and have something wrong with any of their organs, they get sympathy from other people – except when that organ is their brain?” Ruby Wax

“My goal is to create an image that would remind you of something that you haven’t seen before.” Robert Legato

“Treating people with drugs today is like fitting people with shoes without asking them their foot size.” Susan Solomon

“We’re no longer consuming to keep up with the Jones’s, we’re consuming to get to know the Jones’s.” Rachel Botsman

“Our bodies change our minds, our minds change our behaviour and our behaviour changes outcomes. I faked it until I became it.” Amy Cuddy

“If you can manage to experience three positive emotions for every one negative one, it will dramatically improve your effectiveness.” Jane McGonigal

“In the nineteenth century “computers” were people who made the calculations that were published in look up tables and were full of errors.” Laura Snyder

“Think of the computer as a spiritual space for thinking.” John Maeda

“I’m interested in designing not the object but the process that leads to the object.” Michael Hansmeyer

“Saving is present pain for future pleasure. Smoking is present pleasure for future pain.” Keith Chen

“Naked and pure is the spirit that transcends the existence mediocre.” Graffiti quoted by John Wilbanks

“I watch the US embassy data on Beijing air quality to decide whether I should open the window or not.” Michael Anti

The Mariachi of Mexico City

I recently had the opportunity to visit with policy makers from the creative industries in Mexico, courtesy of the British Council. While I was there I encountered the mariachi which prompted these thoughts:

The cantina is so loud that you can barely hear the music coming from one band as it merges into the sounds of the other. There are three in-house mariachi bands here; a black band, a white band and a maroon band.  Eventually one will come over and surround you and then you can’t miss it. Surrounded by murals of famous mariachi singers from the 1950s, the cantina sits on the edge of Plaza Garibaldi, the home of the mariachi.

They hang out on the street; they play on-demand in the square and they step out into the road, hail passing cars. They are waiting to be commissioned; to be sent off to play to someone, somewhere in this sprawling city for some special occasion or to jump into your truck and party with you. Imagine the joy of receiving a mariachi band on your doorstep; they are there to serenade you. How would that make you feel about the music and the person who had sent it? Nobody knows what the word “mariachi” means or where it comes from. I ask several people and get different answers.

At a large table in front of us there is a cell-phone addicted party of younger folk who resolutely refuse all the offers of the mariachi to play their table. We can’t understand why they’re here. But then an older group of local Mexico City residents arrives and occupies the booth next to us. They are in for a serious night. They order a very expensive bottle of cognac which they proceed to drink mixed with Pepsi-cola.

Then they summons the white-costumed mariachi band. The lead singer wears big moustaches and a military style costume different from the players. The players assemble but are spread out as they squeeze between the seats and tables.  The singers and the violinists come and stand right in front of the table, the contra-basso player stands with his stately massive bass acoustic bass guitar, directly in front of us as we are sitting in the adjacent booth. The two trumpet players stand a little way away by the door of the cantina. It’s as close as they can get, but they’re loud enough, they don’t need to be as close as the violins which are the more softly spoken, classy addition to the band.

One of the party has a birthday this evening. Each time she chooses a song for the mariachi to sing to her, she is choosing to be happy or sad. She wants them to create an emotional bond. She wants the singer to perform the tragedy of the song. She wants him to channel the pure joy. It is not a dramatic performance of varying emotion. It is a commitment of intensity to the music. It is a statement at her very table, that this music is serious and real and that he will bring it into her heart. She chooses a sad song because she wants to cry. She knows that it is a performance. She knows that he is just a mariachi. She knows that he is not a character in the song.  She knows that there is no role-play here. She does not enter the narrative with the mariachi. She accesses it via the mariachi. But the song is old. The song is traditional. She already knows where it is going. They have all lived with this song and what it can do; they have known its power since they were babies. The whole culture grows up experiencing their most intense emotions through the shaman power of the mariachi. The songs are tokens for the stories that they tell.

She chooses the song to match the narrative she wishes to revisit. The only question is how well the mariachi can perform his role. How far can he vanish into the pure intense stream of emotion he and his fellow musicians create? To send the mariachi to an object of affection is a common and meaningful action. He is the messenger. He is the voice of the emotion. He is the musical transmitter of emotions between people.  He is their means of communication. I want to hear the mariachi channel the love that my lover is sending me. I do not fall in love with the mariachi but he changes my emotional state. He alters my condition by his singing. I cry, I dance, I am seduced. But the mariachi in his black or his white uniform is only the messenger. He is a worker. I recognise his role. I value it.  I’ll pay him to play ten songs at my table. He creates the intensification that I am here for. I would not come to this table where he will come and visit, if I do not want him to play for me. And I do pay so he does play for me. But he is a cipher. He is playing out to me a set of coded musical messages that I have understood and sought out since childhood. He is like a doctor or a lawyer. He performs a professional service with complete professionalism – most of the time. Unless by chance one of his band gets wasted, starts putting his arm round the audience. Then he breaks the spell. He makes the wrong link.

There is no camaraderie with the Mariachi. Or there is with them as individual people, but it vanishes when they burst into song.  When they launch into the music, the audience is transported too. It is not like being with the heroic individualistic pop-star. It is not like some idol that the audience worships. No, the music is timeless and filled with every other moment in life in which it has appeared. It is a transport into a collective experience. It is the emotional consciousness that the nation shares. But it is defined and personal for each individual, shaped by how they personally heard the music. It feels like nothing else. It is authentic despite the artifice of the performer. It is the vibration of the real experience that the listener holds in her heart. She does not disappear into some collective mist. She cries over the memory of her dead mother because the song gives her the permission to do so, which is what she requested.

Is this experience of the song at its most powerful and most personal, is so different from how we discover and experience music in the contemporary world of western pop and rock? Is it the reason why recommendation engines don’t work because they fail so completely to connect with us emotionally? The new music by a new band that I want to hear so badly is not part of some traditional cannon that comes already equipped with its emotional value and weight.  Largely we don’t want that, except in the world of classical music.  Outside of that world, in the popular music world or the contemporary music world, we are prejudiced against the past and tend to think that a single canon of traditional songs is boring, insufficient, lacking in change. Among this crowd, there seems to be an insatiable appetite for some new sounds, some new music to make us feel fresh.

In some ways, we don’t really use this new kind of music in a completely different way. We do want it to help define us. We want it to paint new narratives and new moods that we can inhabit.  But it can’t have the power of the mariachi. By definition, new music has no heritage, instead it has a vibe and a newness that is what we look for. It might subtly allude to a retro experience (if we have the knowledge to recognise it). If it can summons up enough authenticity, then it might elicit a moment of sadness or longing for the past.  But mostly, we celebrate our embracing its strangeness. We enjoy the idea of privately owning it; the idea that we have made a secret discovery. In fact, the music might lose its potency when we share it with others or when we discover that other people know about the music too.

It seems that this novel emotion of secret ownership is all about finding our own path in an utterly fragmented world. It is the very opposite of the mariachi. It’s interesting to consider whether, if some new music is good enough, subtle enough, evocative, challenging and allusive enough, can it induce such a profound experience of intense emotion that the mariachi can usher in. The answer is with our perception. We rarely find enough reference and enough authenticity of experience to make that connection.  So is this authenticity possible without nostalgia or reminiscence?

China Past or Present?

Is China the future or the past? It’s holding a distorting mirror up to the West but nobody has worked out yet what the distortion factor is – does it make us fatter or thinner? Visiting the country only deepens the sense of uncertainty.

In the subway station for the Science and Technology Museum in Shanghai is one of the city’s largest Fake Markets. The stalls, some quite glossy, sprawl in a maze all around the exits at the top of the escalators in an underground mall. Frequent police raids and prison sentences are helping to create an atmosphere of nervousness and somewhat sleazy secretiveness in the markets.

No question that policy in China is being seen to create an official stigma in the fake markets. Signs taped up at the entrance make it clear that fake products are illegal and not sanctioned by the state.  One effect of all this is to reduce the impact of the brand. It becomes commonplace. Stripped of all the marketing sheen and context the brand makers create for it, consumers end up considering the aesthetics on their own terms.

In a very high quality store with brightly lit displays and shiny chrome and glass fittings, a man sells us a Gucci belt that is very high quality, indistinguishable from an original; quite possibly a “night shift” product. These are often products off the same production line as the genuine item. He explains proudly that the police raid the market all the time. They send people to jail for ninety days for selling fakes – unless you pay them off with big money – equivalent to £35k he tells us. He reveals he is a graduate of Beijing University, Business Studies. He has a maimed left hand which he keep deftly hidden. Disfigurement, disability and amputees are more commonplace in China.

I ask one vendor to see some watches and immediately we’re ushered inside the store while the husband furtively closes the door and stands guard outside. The wife lifts the lid on hidden boxes – literally under her counter. Later, she digs deep into piles of clothes that are stacked around the edge of the little store,  to pull out more bags of fakes – Bulgari, Tag Heuer, Breitling, Rolex, Patek Phillipe all the big brands are here in varying qualities of fake – none of these quite good enough to impress.  The replication is not convincing. In fact, these poorer quality fakes end up strengthening the brands.

In a bag store in one corner of the mall, three heavy-set tall Chinese men enter the stall as we are looking at a suitcase full of Louis Vuitton fakes – not very good ones. The women storekeepers gather round, nervously chatting to the men. It is clear that they are uncomfortable,  these guys may be police. Although as long as we are around, as Westerners, it is clear that nothing is going to happen. The young girl who is serving us is trying to encourage us to buy Gucci wallets. The moment we express interest, she ushers us out of the store and, wheeling another fake-stuffed suitcase behind her,  leads us down a side alley through some big service doors out of the public areas of the mall, into a seedy stairwell to show us the Gucci fakes. The quality is higher and she sells eagerly. The sketchiness is intense.

On the walls at the entrance to the fake market, those official posters warning of the illegality of fakes highlight specific brands. One wonders if these are the brands which lobbied loudest.  Official policy is demonstrably being put into practice. And you can see why. At the same time, in downtown Shanghai and Beijing – some of Europe’s and the US’s glossiest brands are the first to populate new high end malls which are currently as impressive for their lack of people as they are for the expense of their flagship brand stores.  They’re there to capture the growth in this burgeoning middle-class market.  Sebastian Huber, the manager of the Montblanc store in Beijing explains that it is the largest of their boutique stores and is performing well for them. The store is decorated by elaborate, state of the art interactive displays featuring prestigious idealised users of the company’s products. John Lennon may never have actually used a Montblanc pen, but he clearly represents the creativity and fame to which  their customers aspire.   At times incongruities occur to Western eyes that don’t seem to trouble the Chinese or indeed  the brand owners. Cartier and Gap are adjacent in downtown Shanghai in a way that would be unthinkable in Bond Street.

The cultural requirement to haggle in markets and even in more formal shops is born of years of private selling and a nation built on trade. But the surreal dislodging of fixed price points throws the genuine economic value of any consumer product into question. In China the seller is closer than anywhere else in the world to the means of production. The high gloss value-add of marketing and positioning achieved by high end brands in the West is stripped away by the circumstances of sale and effectively removed from the equation here.

“You’ve got to haggle” says the storekeeper in the surreal manifesto the Life Of Brian, and this indeed may be the mode throughout Asia, the Middle East and South America. In fact it may only be in Europe and the US that haggling is not the norm. But you do find yourself wondering what is the index of value? What does the price equate to?  As Westerners we’re forced to build down from our inexact sense of a European High Street price. The Chinese seller is by definition, even if they’re selling an original, likely to start from a position way upstream in the value chain, very close to the factory door. By definition it’s wholesale, minus distribution, minus marketing costs – and minus tax!  This is likely to be at most 15% of UK High Street pricing. As for a fake – there the price is completely arbitrary – not unlike the way that value has been eroded from music in the West. When something has virtually only intrinsic cultural value – the price you can ask depends on the culture created for it. So is this legacy of the heavy-handed, unsophisticated Cultural Revolution or the harbinger of the future.   There’s nothing unsophisticated about it. The gloss and roar of Ferrari’s, Porsche’s and Range Rovers is just as common in Pudong as it is in Sloane Square. But sixty kilometres to the south of Shanghai, in Hang Zhou, the students at the highly selective, elite School of Art and Design develop open software artworks, new products that cross platforms, incorporating games, music, animation, graphics. They all co-create, work on each other projects, contribute their different skills. The work is made to be shared. The professor explains, “it’s all open yes, only open”.

In the Chinese language, there is no past or present – only an eternal present to be carefully amended by qualifiers.

Co-creation of a modern bodice-ripper and the rise of mommy porn

Connected devices, user generated content and cultural shifts all coincided this week to prove once again that our most sophisticated developments drive our most basic desires. A senior placed figure at Nielsen Book explained to me that e-books are driving a massive commercial return in popularity for bodice ripper fiction (what we used to call simply “Mills and Boon”) and a significant upsurge of the interest is in female oriented erotic fiction.

The reason is quite plain to see – or perhaps not to see. The anonymous, book-jacket-less convenience of reading a Kindle (or other digital reader device) allows women to avoid any public embarrassment of being seen to be reading something less than entirely “Richard and Judy” or “Oprah”-like book club material. This might be old news to some who are already fully aware of how porn drove the early adoption of the most successful internet business models – subscriptions and micro-payments, but we did also see that as a predictable reflection of  boys with their toys.  A female version of a similar phenomenon is something new – and possibly almost post-feminist. Unfortunately, the male heroes of these works of fiction seem to represent the most classic characters of gothic anti-hero; distant, unimaginably wealthy, faintly malevolent, and oh so utterly emotionally illiterate in the intensity of their passion. So progress has moved us along but not necessarily forward.

Coinciding with this curious but entirely plausible phenomenon is another curious incident of literary evolution in the same genre. Paidcontent this week focussed on a new work of erotic fiction entitled 50 Shades of Grey which sold over 250,000 units through its Australian publisher – mostly in ebook format – and has been republished by Vintage and is currently number one at the top of the New York Times bestseller list (Number two is Fifty Shades Darker the second title in the 50 Shades Trilogy).  The book is a rewriting of a title that had previously been called Master of the Universe and published for free on a fan fiction site under the authorship of Snowsqueen Icedragon (according to IMDB).  Fan fiction blog, Dear Author carried out numerous comparison tests. They found the book,  according to the plagiarism detection app TurnItIn, to be  89% identical to the previous title.  Now there doesn’t seem to be a matter of plagiarism here at all  since the published author and the fan fiction author are assumed to be the same E L James.  James herself, according to Dear Author, turns out to be a pseudonym for a London-based ex-television producer, Erika Leonard who lives in Brentford. According to the International Business Times, having expressed her delight at such good fortune to the New York Times, Erika Leonard is now resisting the publicity and refused to give an interview to the London Evening Standard.  But, despite her blushing pseudonymity,  the thing that is key here is that Erika Leonard’s  original fan fiction titles were based on the massively successful Twilight series.

The main characters in question are Edward and Bella transposed from their Twilight origins to a present-day setting in downtown Seattle.  So it’s an interesting question as to what the copyright issues are in regard to the work of Twilight author – Stephanie Meyer. Paidcontent’s Laura Hazard Owen  (can that really be her middle name?) doesn’t seem to think there is a problem ”unless Twilight contains a major bondage and sadomasochism element that I missed”, she writes.  So even though the characters are recognisable and the overall context might be clearly based on a context established by Twilight, what Erika Leonard has produced is sufficiently unique not to be an infringement of Meyer’s copyright. That at least is what Vintage Random House would no doubt wish to argue on this occasion.

Fan fiction is a growing phenomenon which challenges conventional notions of authorship and exclusivity of creation – rather as mashups  do. And it is of course very cool. Apparently Stephanie Meyer showed up at some public fan fiction forum to encourage her fans and awarded some prizes to the top ranking works. Based on that behaviour, it seems unlikely that she would wish to pursue Ms Leonard – but then of course that was before the fan fiction became best selling fiction.

Now that one of those pieces has found its way into the commercial domain – albeit with some cosmetic changes, will Meyer’s publishers step in and try to take a cut? Will fan fiction be reduced to canon fodder for the major writers whose works spawn it?  Or more likely perhaps, will it simply be acknowledged as a new manifestation of  one work being inspired by another or what the post-structuralists used to call intertextuality?

This delicious nexus of sophisticated devices, anonymous reading,  anonymous writing, and secret pleasures points to all the dangerous delights and questions around what, with good reason, we have sometimes come to call co-creation. Even as you read this,  some major film studio is busily convincing the stars of the Twilight movies, to star in the forthcoming film versions of the 50 Shades Trilogy and then release them for exclusive private viewing on new high definition iPads… Watch this space… and of course, for those of you that might wish to try this at home, you can buy your grey ties here.

Investment ready companies or oven-ready chips, anybody?

One of the phrases that policy-makers and start-ups seem to have picked up in recent months is “investment ready”. In learned gatherings all over the globe, beard-stroking wonks and earnest advisers assure us that if companies don’t get financed it’s because they’re not “investment ready”.  Experts from highly reputed corporate finance houses tell keen and shiny start-up entrepreneurs that the one thing a company has to be sure of, even before it has any revenues , is that they are “investment ready.”

Investment ready is like oven-ready chips. Why do we have oven-ready chips? It’s so that hard-pressed housewives and home-husbands don’t have to do spud-bashing in the kitchen for hours on end, but can simply empty a sack of chips onto a hotplate and stick it in to a preheated oven. They don’t have to do the frying themselves.

But however much deep frying has been done in advance and so however “investment ready” a company has become, no investment house will simply stick it in its preheated investment oven and say “Bob’s your uncle, come back in seven years for your tasty evening meal”!

The reality is that investors want to get comfortable with what a business is, how it works, how the team works together, how the sales marketing works, how the development works, how the whole thing will scale…

That doesn’t come packaged in a luridly illustrated plastic bag out of the freezer. It comes from careful and thoughtful enquiry and due diligence. Unfortunately in the UK,  companies still seem to have to prove much more than similar companies in the US. Today, an early stage US business is three or four times more likely to receive investment than an equivalent UK business. UK businesses have to go much further to market than their US counterparts, gain multiple concept proof points, win meaningful early contracts, show huge user uptake, point to the beginnings of recurrent revenues, be building a stronger pipeline – and of course prove that all of this can scale massively, globally.

And therein lies the rub. The need to scale globally is understandable and a must. The size of the US domestic market represents such a significant opportunity right on the doorstep of US businesses and Europe is simply not equivalent. That basic market reality dictates investor appetites and so maybe we should never expect it to get any easier in the UK, however oven ready the chips are. Discuss!

DCMS downgrades value of Creative Industries?

If you were a beady-eyed Treasury wonk in the first week of December last year, then the Creative Industries might just have become 30% less important to you than they were a couple of months previously.

In the dying days of 2011, the UK government apparently reduced its view of the value of the Creative Industries. DCMS published a new statistical estimate of the economic contribution and size of the UK’s Creative Industries for 2009,  lowering it from 5.6% of GVA to 2.9% or from £59.1bn to £36.3bn.

Maybe creative industries workers and policy makers were too eagerly focussed on end of year festivities, but this significant change seems to have passed without notice.

Have bit torrent and unauthorised file-sharing finally taken things over a cliff? Has the the complexity of music licensing and the level of commercial friction become so intense as to kill off  more than a third of the value? Did TV advertising suffer a massive subliminal relapse? Did eBooks decimate publishing values? Did social media revenues evaporate in a bubble? Did all this happen without our noticing?

Not really. It’s more a revenge of the statistics nerds type scenario. Apparently, the reasoning for this massive downgrading,  is that in previous years, the “sub-sectors” of  software programming and consulting have been included in the estimates and these have been removed in the interests of accuracy. It’s certainly true that including companies who produce applications for business software products within Creative Industries seemed a bit of a stretch. Equally,  it has been noted for at least ten years that web-companies and social media companies are part of the Creative Industries and still do not figure in the statistics at all. Presumably they get claimed by ICT or Telecommunications. Maybe the statistical nerds are too afraid of an industry lobby group more alert to the value of metrics than the less numerate Creative Industries lobbyists.

Another statistical quirk has contributed to degrading the numbers. A weighting had previously been applied to Office of National Statistics Annual Business Survey information to take into account its lack of full coverage. Allegedly that coverage has now been extended to all parts of the economy. So the weighting has simply been removed. Kerdunk – the economic contribution plumets 30%. But the Annual Business Survey is quite capable of not noticing thousands of micro-businesses and sole operators who make up the warp and weft of Creative Industries. In fact the DCMS report notes (p26 as in previous years) that the majority of crafts business are too small to be picked up by the Inter-Departmental Business Register and so the category is ignored.

Elsewhere in the DCMS report there are a couple of other  contradictory comments. On the one hand, the report observes that last year, analysis methods were changed and therefore tagged “experimental” although the results didn’t differ dramatically from the previous year. This year it has been deemed unnecessary to term these numbers “experimental” and so the term is dropped, suggesting an apparent commitment to this formulation – even though its make up has been radically transformed.  On the other hand, the report also observes that Digital and Creative Industries are increasingly converging on one another and that if the numbers were combined then the figures would be considerably upgraded.

All of this leaves more than a little room for confusion and ambiguity in what should be the “authoritative”, “official” statistics that public spending and policy decisions are based on.

The term Creative Industries is an unwieldy phrase, to which hardly anyone feels much loyalty. It is a flag of convenience that has heritage and continuity on its side, but needs better definition fast.  If we took into account the warp and weft of micro-companies and the convergence with Digital Industries – it would  not be surprising if the numbers leapt back up and then exceeded previous estimates of the UK’s Creative Industries economic contribution.

Ten Predictions for 2012 – what are yours?

1. Startup companies focussed on smart content and technology integration will grow faster and display mind-blowing results. They will look at grownups and say “well of course we’re geeks, writers and designers all working together from the beginning, why on earth would you do it any other way?”

2. Big content companies will continue to campaign against “online piracy” but as their pain increases and even their most somnambulant shareholders start to wake up and notice the approaching precipice, they will experiment more with licensing in more open ways and collaborate with new, more savvy start-ups.

3. Our heads will come out of the cloud and our we’ll plant our feet more firmly on the ground. What we once referred to in shock and awe as “the cloud” will become a much more sophisticated set of services – some of which will offer ubiquity like the Apple iCloud for consumers but others of which will offer much more robust, secure and limited commercial solutions.

4. Search, discovery and recommendation of content of all kinds will grow. We will need meta-discovery engines to filter the range of discovery offerings. Combinations of algorithmic and human selection remain the key. Tastemakers will rule!

5. Talking to yourself is one of the first signs of madness. Voice, movement and facial recognition systems will drive entertainment devices and in car solutions. But people will neither  walk down the street talking to Siri nor talk to her on public transport.

6.  The influence of TV as a platform will only be slowed by TV executives’ unwillingness to embrace technology. Internet connected TVs, set-top box solutions and simplifed home remote control systems will improve. Apple and Google with various new consumer electronics partners will try to do battle for the living room with continued varying results.

7. Security, privacy, hacking and scandals will reach new heights with more of us being exposed to greater invasions of personal privacy than ever. Anonymous will publish some massive quantity of personal private information online which we will all scour for great prurient interest before declaring it scandalous and to be condemned!

8. Closed proprietary solutions vs big open platforms will be the Apple v Google macro-battle writ large across every area of tech innovation… Sony, Nokia and Microsoft will be the big losers of old school proprietary solutions…

9. DIY musicians, artists, writers, film-makers, animators, games creators will be doing it more and more for themselves. The big global superstars of the studio system will look more and more rarified, less and less in touch with the real world. Our cultural snobbishness about self-publishing will diminish, but we will need more and more help to find the good stuff (see 4 above).

10. A small, inexpensive, lo-tech gadget that takes us all back to the very childish basics of human pleasure,  fun and obsessive addictive behaviour will sweep the world and will help a little to relieve us all from the tedium  and anxiety of economic and social uncertainty.