by Lucie Greene
Still, many of Silicon Valley’s larger players’ scale seems unlikely to change. And there’s plenty of new rope, for now, as they swoop up new markets. Even if they don’t remain the rock stars. Perhaps their fate is to be like Microsoft, then. To remain, stay omnipresent, and stay powerful. Like Word. Excel. We’ll still use Facebook every day, but the magazine covers and celebrity rhetoric will move on. They’ll become giant corporate institutions, then supplanted by sexier new things. No longer the stardust but the trusty furniture, albeit all-seeing, and all-knowing. And they may ultimately, and collectively, become seen as evil or demonized for this circular role in our lives. But they’ll be so institutionalized we’ll be powerless to change things.
You know, a bit like the government.
The Unglamorous Safety Net
People tend to overlook much of the positive work government does, and the myriad ways government-funded science and research have made possible the technological marvels we use today. Government spending funds space travel by giving contracts to Elon Musk, even if Musk gets all the glory when sending a Tesla into space. The U.S. government played a crucial role in the creation of Siri, and the internet. Government-built and -maintained roads carry tech workers to their jobs. And crucially, it may still take responsibility for the last-mile services that no company would. (Royal Mail will deliver packages to remote Scottish islands with a single resident; Amazon would not.)
In spite of this list of achievements, we are still down on the government. We still see it as slow, boring, and irrelevant.
Results of a nationally representative consumer poll of 1,000 people, conducted with J. Walter Thompson for this book, are illustrative. The purpose of the poll was to explore in a quantitative way people’s attitudes to governance, the media, and technology, and some of the issues raised in this book. In 2017, in the wake of the U.S. election, 67 percent said they don’t believe the current system of governance “will ever be able to create the change that Americans are currently looking for.” Seventy-six percent agreed there should be better systems in elections. Only 33 percent of our respondents agreed strongly that “government officials truly have my best interests at heart.” Additionally, 68 percent agreed that “government officials tend to only be liars and cheats.”
But there was confusion about whether Silicon Valley should step in. Overwhelmingly, consumers felt the internet should be a public entity, but most were torn on whether it should be regulated in a similar way as, say, water or electricity or road-building. The poll asked who, between government and Silicon Valley, was best equipped to run various sectors, and 71 percent believed that government should control immigration, 59 percent our roads and bridges, 55 percent health care, 52 percent school education, 49 percent transportation, and 44 percent banking.
How would they feel if Silicon Valley took over civic sectors? A third of respondents (33 percent) said they would be “nervous” if Silicon Valley took over health insurance. There was the same response from 33 percent on health care, 37 percent on policing, 33 percent on surveillance, 41 percent on warfare, 25 percent on education, and 24 percent on urban development.
Yet half of consumers (50 percent) viewed the U.S. government as old-fashioned. Google and Facebook measured significantly higher for innovation, intelligence, and confidence compared to the government.
In other words, while we’re not that satisfied with the government, total control by Silicon Valley with the important stuff in people’s lives is also a scary prospect—even if this group does seem more dynamic and interesting. What’s clear is that, amid dwindling resources, pressured health and education systems, and loss of faith in government, there’s a renewed desire to redefine the public/private approach to problem solving.
Where did it all go wrong for government? During World War II, government leaders were our beacons of hope, our rocks and thought leaders. After WWII, citizens in Europe and America placed an unprecedented amount of faith in the government to control their lives. But since then social investment has been continually dismantled in many markets, and along with it, our sense of collective responsibility for the weak and old in society. (In the U.S. between 1949 and 2009, growth on government spending on infrastructure and social services went from 77 percent to –6 percent, according to an EPI analysis of Bureau of Economic Analysis data.) By the 1970s and ’80s, leaders like Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan were denigrating government as “big,” “bloated,” “expensive,” “interfering.” Meanwhile social services and the welfare state became an unnecessary drain. With the rise of neoliberalism in the Clinton and Blair era, the idea of a third way has become prominent, one in which it’s possible to be efficient, commercially friendly, but kind. But the left’s move to the center has only served to weaken the working class and leave the poorest in society with few protections. Hence, the rise of figures like Bernie Sanders, reinvigorating the purer leftist stance, or populist right-wing presidents like Donald Trump, appealing to the same socioeconomic group with promises of manufacturing, renewed national pride, and new jobs (though this time with a strong whiff, alas, of fascism and racism).
There are bigger cultural forces at play, too. Optically the government isn’t leading in innovation—even if it may quietly be investing in high-tech inventions, usually for war. For affluent urban millennials, the biggest consumer group, it’s also partly that nations are so globalized that believing in something as dorky as a common cause like their state is beyond them. They’re too busy taking selfies in Cuba, Instagrams of vegan cuisine, buying Lululemon, and growing moustaches. It could also be that they’re too postmodern and “meta” now to believe in something so traditional. This is the era where Hulu is producing high-concept “dramadies” set within fake reality dating shows, after all. We’re more fragmented than ever, too—which means buying into a common cause feels impossible. It could simply be because all we spend our money on is tech, through digital platforms, this sector is the only one with enough resources to do anything anymore.
Sometimes it’s helpful to think of this in brand terms. Part of the issue lies in government and politics not remaining relevant to young people, and therefore creating a vacuum of influence. Silicon Valley companies think like brands. Perhaps government should do the same thing, making its work and role in life seem compelling and valuable, and elections a compulsory part of citizenship. Or a politician’s work appear more trustworthy. This is an era when every consumer brand is tripping over itself to seem authentic and transparent. If politicians were brands, most millennials and teenagers would not buy them.
There is also the generational divide to consider in the wake of 2016 and 2017’s tumultuous political events. Overwhelmingly, young people would have voted for Hillary Clinton to be elected president, not Donald Trump. And, overwhelmingly, young people in the UK would have voted to remain in the EU. Trust and faith in democracy among young people has only been eroded, leaving many considering alternatives.
In the wake of the U.S. election and the 2017 travel ban for Muslim countries that followed, as Silicon Valley figures began vocally and publicly criticizing the American government, some people might have started to feel a curious sensation: comfort. Comfort that there was an alternate power source to the government and one that might actually have the ability to do something, or failing that, stand up to a government that they felt did not represent their positions. In this era of massive political fractiousness, volatility, and inward-looking near-fascism, Silicon Valley started not to look so bad. Which speaks volumes of how dramatic the shift has been between Barack Obama’s stability and Donald Trump’s administration.
A self-confessed progressive, coastal, educated, affluent urban millennial (and hypocritical Uber-addict, Amazon-shopping, Whatsapp user), I have viewed the political landscape with dismay. Edicts like the Muslim ban and the rolling back of protections to national parks were appearing left, right, and center. In the UK, the slashing of services such as free schoo
l meals and further cuts to the police seemed to be in the headlines daily. It appeared like a mounting whirlwind of horror that I was powerless to do anything about.
Yet, the events of 2017 have also been interesting from the point of view of government’s power. As Trump’s edicts have rung out, private companies have stepped forward to flout him, or openly challenge him; government has looked small, in mind and in influence.
Is Silicon Valley the right replacement? And should they win by default?
What they offer is undoubtedly seductive by virtue of being the most powerful and dynamic. Right now, they are dominant due to consumer buy-in and approval. But how long that will actually be necessary is an important thing to consider. Because then there will be little control over what they do.
Such is this group’s reach that stepping out of their systems is increasingly impossible if anyone wishes to function in work or society. For many it would be difficult to last even a week, living and working, without using any of the following: Facebook, Google, Amazon, Uber, Microsoft, Instagram, Apple, YouTube, or Whatsapp. These are immersive brands powered by consumerism, but as they move into health care, education, transportation, and finance, as highly networked monoliths, the brand ecosystems they’ve created will become inescapable fortresses. And the consumer’s power to effect change within them will vanish.
The magnitude of this growing power is difficult to comprehend fully. Most people know about it. Some may even put a sticker over the camera on their laptops, but few take active steps to do anything beyond that. Because the enormity of the idea, and their reach, is too big. But it’s something we need to get a grip on quickly. Or more so, our governments do. Until government gets reinvigorated by millennials, or failing that, the dynamic, hyper-connected, and conscientious Gen Z, it is rapidly becoming obsolete. Meanwhile the bells, whistles, and promises of Silicon Valley (in the absence of competitors) may offer a dangerously reassuring alternative. Or, at least, better than the current greying bunch burning down the planet.
The convenience offered by Google, Apple, Facebook, Uber, Amazon, and more has already persuaded people to (willingly) hand over reams of data in order to save time, have personalized goods, and devote countless hours of their day to interact with these companies, despite anxiety about privacy. Rising critique of this group in media and in governments isn’t stopping our use. And maybe they will build something better and faster—so long as it’s, you know, tech-based and involves David Bowie soundtracks and saving the world. Who needs the government anyway? Jeff Bezos is rescuing Puerto Rico and the health-care system. Uber’s getting us cheap taxis. We’ll all be fine! The point is most people reading this book aren’t the ones who most need the government. It’s the people who can’t afford an Uber, or the emergency room, those who don’t own Macbooks. And they may soon be reliant on the generosity of a group of white, male-dominated, private companies to maintain their livelihoods and the marketability of their problems for a new “social enterprise mission” to survive. Allowing current services and systems to be reinvented is great but it should end up with something different, and better. More inclusive, not less. Representative of everyone, not just a few. Tech’s vision of the future, architected almost singularly by privileged white men, may have a futuristic veneer, but its implications remain the same, or even worse. Less inclusive. Better only for a small percentage of society.
The #MeToo movement has set in motion a tidal wave exposing abuses of power, and today’s power structure disproportionately favors men over women and minorities. And wealth over poverty. It’s highlighted the complex layers of what constitutes abuse and the experiences of women, and some men, of all ethnicities. From here to #TimesUp, there’s been a resounding cry that this system’s days are numbered. Never again. And yet, we’re dangerously close to giving perhaps the most patriarchal white industry around the most powerful job of all.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank Guy Murphy, chief strategy officer at J. Walter Thompson, and Laura Agostini, chief talent officer, for their support and encouragement in taking on this book. And of course, JWT’s global CEO Tamara Ingram, OBE.
I’d also like to thank Mark Truss, worldwide director of brand intelligence and leader of Sonar, J. Walter Thompson’s research insights unit, for assisting in the original consumer survey data included in, and specially commissioned for, this book. I’d also like to thank my team, in particular Emma Chiu, our excellent creative innovation director, my deputy, and my friend who—among other friends and family—has tolerated me during this process.
A number of trusted, long-term collaborators assisted me with researching and finessing this book. I am forever and ever indebted to Hester Lacey for her expertise, positive spirit, and generosity. I’d also like to thank Anna Melville James and Paul Rodgers for their assistance and good humor. Also, thanks to Nayantara Dutta, Nina Jones, Julie Cotterill, and Jaime Eisenbraun.
Martin Raymond, cofounder and owner of the Future Laboratory, hired me years ago as a futurist at his company. I still consider him a mentor, friend, and person I revisit when (nearly) shying away from saying what I actually think. Thanks, Martin.
Thanks to my literary agent, Robin Straus, and Katelyn Hales. And to Dan Smetanka and his excellent team at Counterpoint Press.
Lastly, but importantly, thank you to the people who gave their time and insight to this book. I spoke to as many authoritative minds as possible. Fortunately, I was able to summon some of the best. Not all of them are quoted. Some of them offered me important introductions, some informal advice. All contributed to the bigger picture, which I hope is nuanced and thoughtful—even if you disagree.
In no particular order:
Jane K. Winn, the Charles I. Stone professor and director of the Center for Advanced Study & Research on Innovation Policy at the University of Washington, Seattle, Washington.
Andrew Blauvelt, director of the Cranbrook Art Museum in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan.
James Wallman, futurist and author of Stuffocation: Living More with Less.
Alexandra Lange, architecture and design critic and author of The Dot-Com City: Silicon Valley Urbanism, among other titles.
Puneet Kaur Ahira, cofounder & COO at Shared Magic. Formerly a special advisor to Megan J. Smith, a U.S. CTO during the Obama administration.
Dominic Campbell, founder and CEO at FutureGov.
Adam Thierer, senior research fellow with the Technology Policy Program at the Mercatus Center at George Mason University.
Benjamin Soskis, research associate at the Center on Nonprofits and Philanthropy at the Urban Institute, George Mason University.
Ben Nelson, founder, chairman, and CEO of Minerva.
Bob Safian, founder of the Flux Group. Formerly an editor at Fast Company.
Christopher Kirchoff, visiting technologist at the Institute of Politics at the Harvard Kennedy School, formerly a partner at DIUx at the Pentagon’s Silicon Valley office.
Clair Brown, professor of economics and director of the Center for Work, Technology, and Society at the University of California, Berkeley.
Dale J. Stephens, founder of UnCollege.
Dan Pallotta, speaker, author, reformer, founder, and president of the Charity Defense Council and president and CEO of Advertising for Humanity.
Daniel Stevens, executive director at Campaign for Accountability.
Marian Goodell, CEO of Burning Man Project.
Robert Scott, lawyer, founder of Further Future.
David Callahan, founder and editor of Inside Philanthropy.
David Golumbia, associate professor in the Department of English/MATX PhD Program, Virginia Commonwealth University. Author of The Politics of Bitcoin: Software as Right-Wing Extremism.
Nick Denton, founder of Gawker Media.
Delaney Ruston, MD, president of MyDoc Productions and creator of the documentary Screenagers.
Dr. Molly Maloof, a San Francisco–based physic
ian, technologist, and wellness expert.
George Berkowski, entrepreneur and founder of Hailo. Author of How to Build a Billion Dollar App.
Bruce Sterling, futurist and cyberpunk author.
Tiffany St. James, digital transformation strategist and speaker, executive director of BIMA. Former UK government head of social media.
Jimmy Leach, founder of Zinzan Digital. Former head of digital engagement for the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, UK.
James Russell, architecture critic.
Joe McNamee, executive director of European Digital Rights.
Aaron Dorfman, president and CEO of the National Committee for Responsive Philanthropy.
Keith A. Spencer, cultural critic and manager of the sci/tech vertical at Salon.
Kevin Kelly, founding executive editor of Wired magazine and a former editor/publisher of the Whole Earth Review.
Joe Quirk, coauthor with Patri Friedman of Seasteading: How Ocean Cities Will Change the World.
Kosta Grammatis, engineer, scientist, entrepreneur, and presenter. Formerly with Space X and MIT, and the founder of A Human Right.
Steve Blanks, adjunct professor of entrepreneurship at Stanford University and author of The Startup Owner’s Manual.
Tom Bedecarre, cofounder and CEO of AKQA.
Yves Behar, founder and CEO of Fuseproject.
Richard Hill, independent consultant in Geneva. Formerly a senior staff member at the UN International Telecommunication Union.
Robert J. Gordon, economist. Author of The Rise and Fall of American Growth: The U.S. Standard of Living since the Civil War.
Ravi Mattu, technology, media, and telecoms news editor at Financial Times.
Rowland Manthorpe, tech correspondant, SkyNews. Formerly associate editor at Wired UK.
