Day 9: a song I can dance to

Alternate title: Why I love Lady Gaga



I haven't stepped onto a dance floor in the last two years without having this song playing.

It's a great song to make up awkward dance steps for as you go along. (Those are the best kind, no?) And I have nothing but the fondest of memories of friends in different states of sobriety doing so.

But there's so much more to this song, and indeed to Lady Gaga as a contemporary artist.

I'm a huge fan of Gaga, and I have nothing but respect for her as an artist, because I think she's one of the few mainstream artist doing it smart and doing it right.


Most importantly, Lady Gaga's songs, are perfect examples of music - I'd call it an art form - that has made way for shared experiences and has inspired further creativity.

Many of those who've contributed to her over one billion views on YouTube and put two of her songs in the top 10 iTunes downloads until February 2010 - and these are only two of the innumerable music outlets today - have gone on to do creative things (amazing/ odd/ funny) on their own.

Like these guys:



Or this really cool video+cover by The Morning Pages



Or any of these ones for that matter. Make up videos, karaoke, credible covers, tributes to friends, just a bit of fun - but all about people creating shared experiences with the song.

Loads of people seem to love dancing to Gaga. Just like I did with my friends.

I also think that her sexually ambiguous and arty videos which tell weirdly fascinating stories, stripped down+over the top live performances and of course, her Madonna 2.0 bras, make her an extremely talented, passionate and astute artist, perfectly suited for multiple media platforms.

But that's for another day, another argument.

Facebook, Woods, and the Morality of No Privacy

Facebook posts on Google and Woods soon on Oprah. Are we being pressured to give up our privacy?

Two recent and unconnected events may have very well defined the expectation of privacy that we take into 2010 and put a greater economic as well as moralistic premium on sharing personal information.

On 10 December, social media network Facebook rolled out changes in its privacy policy.

With the default privacy setting as ‘everyone’, Facebook’s 350 million users are being encouraged to share more personal information – location, photos, videos, posts – with those outside trusted circles of friends.

And effectively, with Google and Bing of course.

High premium on sharing

Of course, it must be mentioned that the new Facebook policy affords greater granular control of posted information, and continues the option for customised, restrictive privacy settings. Having taken the trouble to review and reset mine, I for one am glad that I have been offered the choice not to share party pictures with “everyone, forever.”

However, FB’s emphasis on openness signifies a slight but important change in policy and ideology for an industry leader.

With even the rather private Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg opening up his profile to the public, the premium on sharing and openness is exceptionally high.

As a user, I get the distinct feeling that my decision to have fewer people find me and not to contribute to a more ‘effective’ online search experience, doesn’t sit so good with the guys at Facebook, Google, et al.

Google CEO Eric Schmidt’s comments are almost scolding: "If you have something that you don't want anyone to know, maybe you shouldn't be doing it in the first place."

Privacy as amoral? 

And here, the purpose of information sharing changes from economic benefits and knowledge gain, to take moralistic overtones. And it’s not just limited to information online.

Take the Tiger Woods situation (as it has indeed turned into) – Woods’ extra-marital shenanigans is everyone’s business now and a very public apology is being suggested as the only way out for golf’s biggest personality.

Intense scrutiny has meant that the normally reticent sportsman has already taken the decision to issue public statements about his “transgressions” and finally confess to his “infidelity”.

But that’s being considered far from enough. With sponsors getting cold feet, congressmen giving up campaigning for a Congressional medal for him (“in light of recent developments”), it would seem that Woods is being pressurised to forgo privacy for a tearful confession on Oprah.

‘Woods chose privacy, and look how that turned out, so no more privacy’ seems to be the prevailing sentiment. Take sports journalist Rick Reilly (ESPN) who makes a example of Woods as he writes:

He needs transparency. Let us into your life a little. Do the "A week on the road with Tiger" story. Give a home interview once in a while. Let people check in the closets and under the bed. Prove to the world you've changed. Because "no comment" and three security guards are only going to make people suspicious.

Sure, as a public persona, Wood’s personal life would always be an interesting conversation point, and the subject of constant tabloid speculation.

The issue however, is not about the intrusive media coverage or online insights into personal life, thoughts and behaviour. The worry is that as the decade ends, we're going to be pressured into volunteering to give up privacy concerns, or else face disapproval, self-righteousness and lectures on morality.

Image courtesy Markus Meyer aka Sunside, CC-BY-NC. 

Who's tracking your online footprint?

With Twitter mania adding to the already established popularity of Facebook, MySpace, YouTube and all those Google apps, the line between information and too-much-information gets another shade murkier.

While I voluntarily (for the most part) put up information about myself, scores of private and public organisations are collecting more information about what I do, the choices I make and my behaviour patterns.

As the New Statesman puts it, "Our digital records create a fast-growing laboratory of human behaviour."

I'm in the middle of research for a documentary about surveillance, and not surprisingly, the Government and Google regularly feature as the bad guys. Both have been criticised by privacy organisations for their disregard to dataprotection and privacy laws.

But as the same New Statesman article mentioned earlier goes on to point out, we may be confusing romantic ideas of anonymity with privacy.

It seems like a futile fight for anonymity, against the natural progression of a society where the information we share exponentially increases.

I'm coming around. It would seem that we require a completely new mindset, behaving in the straight-and-narrow. Because: 'Who's watching me? Who do I want watching me?'

Ironically, a half- finished 1984 stares at me from my bedside table.