On leaving Mozilla

I didn’t want to write one of those “all@” goodbye emails. At best, they generate ambivalence, maybe some sadness. And maybe they generate clutter in the inboxes of people who prefer their inboxes uncluttered. The point is, they don’t seem to improve things. I’m not sending one.

But I have taken the decision to leave Mozilla as a full-time employee. I’m leaving the industry, in fact. For the last 10 years, for everything I’ve learned, for the many opportunities and for the shared achievements, I’ve got nothing but gratitude towards my friends and colleagues. I cannot imagine I’ll work anywhere quite like this again.

Long before I joined Mozilla, it was the organisation that had restored my optimism about the future of tech. From the dark days of the dot-com crash and the failure of platform-independent client-side internet applications to live up to their initial promise (I’m looking at you, Java applets), Firefox showed the world that openness wins. Working here was always more than a job. It has been a privilege.

At their very least, Mozilla’s products are open platforms that make their users sovereign, serving as a reference and inspiration for others. And at their best, our products liberate developers, bringing them new opportunities, and they delight users such that complete strangers want to hug you (and no, I didn’t invent the Awesome Bar, but I know someone who did…).

So I’ve always been very proud of Mozilla, and of proud of the work the team I’m on – Open Innovation – does. Being Mozilla is not easy. Tilting at windmills is the job. We live in times when the scale of Internet companies means that these giants have resources to buy or copy just about any innovation that comes to market. Building for such a market – as well as the inherent challenge of building world-class user experiences in the extremely complex environment of content on the Web – also means identifying the gaps in the market and who our allies are in filling them. It’s a complex and challenging environment and it needs special people. I will miss them.

Mozilla Summit 2010

I’m in there somewhere [Credit: Gen Kanai, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0]

But thanks to the great work of our Participation Systems, and Community Development teams, contribution to the project on a volunteer basis in both technical and in non-technical areas is increasingly well facilitated. Where I’m able to and where it makes sense, I look forward to making my own contribution. As I’ve said to many colleagues, this is “thank you”, but not “good-bye”. At least, not from my side.

However, this is probably my last time in the Bay Area for a while. So I took the opportunity to see some old friends (I’ve worked in this industry for over 20 years now). A common theme? Many had gone back to using Firefox since the Quantum release in late 2017.

“Haven’t you heard?”, said one, explaining how his development team asked to prioritise Firefox support for their product, as that’s what they want to use themselves, “Firefox is cool again.”

I had to disagree: it has never stopped being cool.

Why HBR is wrong on VR/AR and retail

Having spent a little time studying the prospects for Augmented Reality, I think it’s an extremely exciting space.  The prospects for greater efficient, safety, and enhanced education experiences especially seem to be both unambiguously positive and soon within reach.

But I’m not so bullish about the impact in retail.  And when I read HBR’s piece, Virtual and Augmented Reality will Reshape Retail, I remained unmoved.  I can imagine that VR and AR will manifest in retail, but their influence will be much less profound than in healthcare, say, or education, or even real estate sales for that matter.  Consider the examples cited in the article:

Your camping trip is coming up. You and a friend go shopping for a tent. Spotting one you like, you both crawl inside to check the capacity. But there’s something unusual about this scenario: You’re in Boston. Your buddy is in Houston. And neither of you is anywhere near a sporting goods store.

Which is all well and good, but how frequently do you find yourself making a major (or even medium-sized) joint purchase with someone else while separated by a great distance?  And then, there’s this example:

For instance, a virtual makeup mirror could quickly learn consumers’ preferences and show them new looks without requiring them to wait at the makeup counter.

Well, it could, but that already exists and does not seem to have reshaped a great deal.  (And isn’t it the expert advice from an actual human that we want?).  Virtual mirrors?  Meh.  If you’re in the store, wouldn’t you still want to try the garment on before you buy it?  I know I would.

Retail’s great problem is consumers are buying online, and using retail stores as showrooms.  Can Virtual Reality or Augmented Reality fix that?



On Apple’s courage

I’ve never owned an iPhone, and although I don’t exclude the possibility, the prospect appeared to become more remote with Apple’s widely panned announcement of the iPhone 7.  The focus of said panning, the removal of the audio jack, an efficient, capable and widely adopted standard that has its origins in 19th century technology.  There’s no way around it, it’s clearly and obviously a huge problem for Apple users and Apple will no doubt lose many in their next phone purchase:

And so when Apple talk of “courage”, it is not courage to make risky design decisions which will somehow free us from tangled headphone cables, or whatever other convoluted explanation Apple apologists offer.  The iPhone 7 will, unquestionably, be worse for users.

Apple’s courage is to use their huge market power and distinct advantages over the Android ecosystem.  The iPhone is a modern day colossus, and the centre of gravity for much of the technology industry.  But it will not be forever.  Apple’s great challenge is to extend this hegemony.  It will not do this with ridiculous wireless ear-buds, but it will by taking the lead in defining new categories of peripherals at which its platform is at the centre.  As Ben Evans points out, smartphones are reaching the top of the S-Curve.  Apple owns (and will continue to own) enough of the top of the market that it can force this through. The Android ecosystem is, by design, too diverse than any one vendor can follow suit.

And so Apple is accelerating into the post-iPhone future, which entails risks, but offers great rewards. Rather than trying to escape, Apple are turning towards the torpedo before it can arm itself.

If you care about standards, if you want technology to be equitably consumed, if you care about the environmental damage of technological waste, Apple’s courage should appall you. If you care about none of these things, and have a long position on Apple stock, you should probably be pleased.

When I was a ghost myself

How many times will I find myself in Dallas?  That thought propelled me out into the thick night air.  Carpe diem and all that.  And just maybe also a juvenile, morbid fascination helped. After all, I could hardly expect to learn something new about the most studied 6 seconds in history.

We know Dealey Plaza from one perspective, the one Abraham Zapruder provided us with when he accidentally filmed the murder of John F Kennedy.  The splendid motorcade is bathed in sunlight and the crowd is jubilant.  Abruptly, JFK’s movement tell us that something is very wrong.  Seconds later, our worst fears are realised as we see what can only be a fatal shot to his head. All is confirmed in Jackie Kennedy’s dreadful panic.  Finally, the car whisks JFK out of the sunlight and into the darkness of the underpass at the foot of Dealey Plaza.

Dealey Plaza had been built 22 years earlier.  A work of the New Deal, the plaza is a memorial to the founding of city of Dallas.  Like so many spaces in the US, it gives priority to cars (unlike the pleasant Klyde Warren Park in downtown Dallas), but it is still very accessible.  The plaza consists of understated ornaments in a muted late art-deco style.  It is a heart-shaped gateway to the city.  The underpass we see at the end of the Zapruder film was that gateway.

Of course, that is not how we think of it today – we think of Dealey Plaza for a violent crime and a titillating enigma.  “Who killed JFK?” is byword for conspiracy theories.  But unlike faked moon landings or desert-bound UFO warehouses, it raises a much deeper question: can one individual change the course of history?

One version of events tells us that a single young man with a mail-order rifle manages to change the path of peace and reconciliation that JFK had put the US on.  The lone gunman committed one of the world’s great powers to decades of armed stand-off, a series of bloody proxy wars, and the continued subjugation of its own ethnic minorities.  The other view holds that bigger forces are at work -that such forces are always at work.  They teach us that JFK’s death is part of a much bigger picture, that of the self-perpetuating “military-industrial complex”, or some other force of historical materialism.

There are no happy answers.  We either accept the awful thought that one individual through a single act of violence is capable of plunging the world into deep conflict (Gavrilo Princip being another example), or we hold that they are not, which is even worse.  Oswald acting alone represents some form of human validation.  Conspiracy wouldn’t just show that governing institutions are violent and corrupt, it begins to suggest that nothing we do really matters.

I turned the right from Houston Street onto Elm, the corner of the former book depository, and I was now on the same route as JFK’s motorcade.  And there it was: instantly, intimately familiar, a place I had been many times before in my thoughts.

At 11:30 at night, the plaza was virtually deserted.  It remains largely as it was in 1963.  I drifted, almost invisible in the gloom, toward the bottom of the plaza and the grassy knoll.  Climbing up to the back of the picket fence, I would greet unidentified assassins, shadows in darkness, still waiting for the coast to be clear after 50 years before they can show themselves.  I moved silently to the plinth Zapruder stood on to film the president. I knew this place, I had someone else’s memory of what happened there, a memory that was more vivid than many of my own.  I then found myself back at the top of the plaza, looking up at the 6th floor window.  For a brief moment, there were two of us, the still shape of Oswald’s face discernible in the shadows, looking down impassively on Dealey Plaza, as baffled as the rest of us by what had taken place there.

Walking back to the kerb beside where the murder took place, I looked over to my right.  The underpass now is lit in vivid sodium orange.  The gateway was the light.  I had felt welcome, tranquil even, in Dealey Plaza, but I did not want to go near the underpass.  And with that realisation, I knew my brief time as a ghost was over.

dealey plaza underpass

The Dealey Plaza triple underpass at night

Many feel that the facts of JFK’s assassination have been satisfactorily resolved.  Public opinion does not agree.  And the deeper questions, of course, are unlikely ever to be.  But self-knowledge is also knowledge.  My short trip to Dealey Plaza gave me a glimpse of Sophie’s World, a sense that I was existing in other people’s thoughts.  It felt more like being in a dream than any dream I’ve been in.

Silicon Valley At Its Seductive Worst

First, two quick caveats, for this is an emotive topic.  One, I do not seek to condemn people who find that a poly-amorous or other non-monogamous form of relationship seem to meet their emotional needs, nor am I necessarily against responsible and respectful promiscuity.  Two, in other channels it appears that Chris Messina has, or had, some reservations about the interview he gave to CNN Money about “Why I choose non-monogamy”.  I suspect he may even privately agree with me (given his reservations) that such an important and complex topic should not handled in a short piece in CNN Money of all places.

There are many ways in which we might be concerned with how technology is changing our lives.  From how it appears to be altering our cognitive patterns, to how it has created a huge commercial and governmental surveillance operation, to how markets are being captured, disrupted and sometimes, de facto deregulated, by internet companies.  Our lives increasingly resemble a daily celebration of what these companies have brought to us, and it would also be churlish of me to fail to acknowledge that in many ways, I owe my career to them.

But when I read the CNN Money piece advancing the case for how technology can mediate the rise of non-monogamous relationships, I felt fear and sadness.  Not because I wish to judge non-abusive alternative lifestyles of others, nor do I judge those who find they need to make a change, or those who make mistakes or who succumb to temptations (we are human, are we not?).  But I do judge, and judge harshly, blase, superficial and self-serving analysis of the most important matters in life.  So let me declare my position: I am pro-marriage.
In the article, Messina advances an argument for being bullish about the future of non-monogamous relationships. He starts by attacking the “happily ever after myth”, and showing how it wouldn’t pass muster with your average Silicon Valley product manager.  He calls for a “data-positive solution-oriented” approach to the problem that “your product (i.e. marriage) is failing for 50% of your customers”.  I assume that this choice of language is at least partly tongue-in-cheek.

He explains that his “monogamish” relationship is not diminished or weakened by physical intimacy with people outside his (for want of a better word) main relationship.  He has been in this lifestyle for approximately 18 months.  He goes on to say that monogamy dates back to a time of scarcity, and that in the world of abundance which he inhabits, monogamy is a choice which may no longer be rational.

In further tounge-in-cheekery (I hope), monogamy and sex are being “unbundled” (a term typically applied to the simplification of a complex or compound product offering) and that romantic partners are now “fungible” (his actual word).  And naturally, this is thanks to the facilitation of technology.

In summary, he is not asserting that monogamy is irrelevant, but rather he is promoting the idea that non-monogamous relationships which he sees being borne of the Silicon Valley-Burning Man-Randian sub-culture may potentially empower the individual in unforeseen ways (“a bicycle for the heart”).

So, given my carefully exhausted caveat above, why do I have my knickers in such a twist?

People have rational capabilities, but we are fundamentally emotional constructs.  Nurturing our emotional lives, caring for them wisely, is the most important thing we can do for ourselves.  And being bullish on something with so much capacity for emotional harm, and with so little depth of thought, and with such a one-sided (and flawed) argument, is just the kind of dangerous hubris that gives the tech industry a bad name.

Why is Messina’s argument flawed?  

First, he erects a straw man, the “happily ever after” myth.  This apparently reveals his approach to relationships: they are only good while they are good.  This is a passive attitude, reminiscent of Ayn Rand’s view of them.  Surely anyone with any experience of a serious relationship knows that a rewarding partnership is not something that is preordained once you meet Mr or Ms Right.  It is about loving intentionally, every day.

Secondly, he very casually dismisses the obvious challenges of his position.  Being monogamish does not “diminish the integrity of our relationship”, but instead, it serves to “deepen our understanding of each other’s wants and desires, and give us the space to grow independently, without growing apart.”

Let us be happy for them, but I note with some trepidation that it has only been a year and a half.  I am not sure I would risk my marriage on such a small sample size in my A/B test of life (although I do sincerely hope that his and his partner’s experiences remain positive – I wish only happiness).  It seems very likely to me that people could easily experience jealousy, however.  Perhaps this is Messina’s appeal to our higher, Burning Man self: to be above jealousy (which is surely what free love was telling us in the 60s). Perhaps he is simply a very confident lover.  Or perhaps he just hasn’t thought about it much yet.

More broadly, many relationships are not perfectly equal: men earn more money everywhere on earth.  Biological clocks tick.  Looks fade.  Career prospects change.  We get sick.  In short, marriage vows exists for a reason.  I can imagine one partner in a relationship reading the CNN article and broaching the topic, claiming that it will not necessarily affect their relationship if he starts seeing other people too.  His partner’s response to that question may be a factor of both the appeal of the idea and the degree of security they feel in the relationship.  The idea, in other words, may be corrosive.

Thirdly, his analysis is a curious advert for technology-mediated social change.  I am still struggling to understand how much of this was self-parody (I do not know Chris Messina, but evidently he is a successful and clever chap and as the CNN piece reminds us not once, but twice, he is the “inventor of the hashtag”).  His choice of language, of monogamy as a “product”, of sex being “unbundled” from it and of romantic partners being “fungible” all seem to make his argument absurd, to be willfully clumsy metaphors or outright category errors.  Perhaps I am taking the whole thing too seriously -after all, the accompanying video has the host, Laurie Segall, telling us, “we’re lucky enough to be sitting with the dude that invented the hashtag”, while standing up.

The case for monogamy

Now, let us not say people shouldn’t have these relationships, but they absolutely should not do so on such flimsy understanding of possible consequences, underestimate what lasting romance can mean to their lives, and give up monogamy the way they give up their privacy when they log onto Facebook.

I agree on some things.  Our environment has changed.  We tend to believe less in gods.  We tend to look less to political ideologies for guidance on what is right.  And we risk finding less meaning in our lives beyond being cultivated consumers.  So what do you hang your soul on?

A lasting, meaningful relationship is hard work.  You don’t meet the one person in all creation intended for you.  You become that person.  You choose to devote yourself, and you keep on choosing to, and devotion without sacrifice is meaningless, as is monogamy without a desire for others.

If human progress is anything, it is our ability not to opt for the satisfaction all of our immediate desires.  True devotion to another person is, I believe, just about the highest state it is possible for us to reach, not the lowest, as Rand asserts.  If you are able to do that, if you master your desire, you have mastered yourself.  Not everything need be vanity.

I am no absolutist and if we do not harm others or behave towards them without their consent, then I do believe we should be able to do as we please.  But such decisions should be done thoughtfully, and the most important decisions in your life should not be treated like an A/B test in a social networking service.

My final appeal would be this.  There does seem to me to be an inherent contradiction between the need to preserve emotional distance from a sexual partner who is not your main partner and what most people understand as the idea of “romance”.  I hope we never surrender the notion that is a certain something in human emotional connections that will forever resist analytics.  Sexual partners may indeed, as Messina forecasts, become “fungible” -but let us agree that romantic ones never will.

How do you refute Determinism?

I’m currently reading PubMatic’s 2015 Programmatic Outlook Report.  It’s good reading for anyone thinking about Mozilla’s place in the future of digital media and our role with respect to advertising.  This paragraph in Matthew Shevach’s essay, “Should Publishers Fear The New Walled Gardens?”, caught my attention:

Consumers are required to use their real identify on Facebook, Google, Apple and Amazon… There is no way to stay anonymous within the deterministic ecosystems that currently exist… Each of the big four providers have integrated their own unique user identification platform into their advertising systems so that they can address ads to each consumer in a deterministic fashion.  No guesswork here.  They know exactly who you are.

Tracing the implications of this, Shevach continues

Publishers would need to set up shop within one of the walled gardens, charge for services, or slowly wither away on the small share of ad dollars they can attract…Do we want a world where only a few big media companies own the entire ecosystem for publishing and advertising?

In other words, on our current trajectory, Shevach is describing a possible world where the Internet allows for no privacy and the Web offers no economic opportunity.  I agree with him on all counts apart from his use of the term “deterministic”.