i think obsessive archiving is an interesting phenomenon in its own right. While some of it is probably due to “archival hubris”, i think that much of it is actually due to a pervasive fear of screwups, fear of forgetfulness, and in search of the goals of modifiability and flexibility that you outline elsewhere in the book.

In particular, during discussions, arguments and planning processes, there’s a sense of concern that any given decision made today may turn out to be the wrong decision, or may in the future be made in a different way. Obsessive archiving mitigates the possibility that future decision-makers will be perplexed by the outcome of the process, and will remind them (if they care to read) of the rationales we had in mind when we were coming to terms with the decision we were making. If the context of the decision turns out to be no longer relevant in 5 years, then reversing the outcome of the decision is no big deal. But if there were subtle nuances in rationale that are still relevant, an attempt to reverse the outcome can be more easily rebutted.

Also, obsessive archiving (along with an explicit or implicit faith in the power of mechanized search) is seen as a time-saver — if we can have the discussion with each other in the public, then no one needs to spend any extra time writing or fact-checking minutes, summaries, etc.

This doesn’t work out all the time, so summaries are still needed for some monstrous discussions, or particularly high-bandwidth topics (see, for example, Jon Corbet’s ongoing summaries of Linux kernel development). But for smaller discussions and projects, the original archives themselves are a more effective use of limited collaborator hours than preparing and publishing synopses.

nit picking: “level it to their advantage” (used twice in this paragraph) doesn’t make a lot of sense — to level a playing field is to remove any intrinsic advantage for one player or another. it seems jarring, unless the point you’re trying to make here is that the act of leveling itself is intrinsically impossible, or that hidden biases are implicit in any act of “leveling”.

“bias it to their advantage” might be better, or maybe “tilt it to their advantage” (which keeps the metaphor alive a bit longer).

@jennifer

Absolutely. Second Life and fan fiction are both great examples to explore in this context. With second life, the key difference is that Linden Labs has absolute authority over what happens there… but beyond that, certain elements of free software practices are central to second lifers understanding of what they create.

Fan fiction is an even better example because of the way it liberates not just texts or material copies, but characters, plots, situations. Fan-subbing in anime i another good example. Here the key difference is the quasi-legality of it. Free software has figured out a way to create a legal commons that opts out of corporate provision of software… fan fiction and fan subbing exist in uneasy relation to that same corporate provision: they need it to feed their understanding and inhabitation of their worlds, but they deconstruct it and make it public at the same time. I hope it’s clear that I think using free software as a template for asking about the practices involved in either case is a way of trying to make more precise what makes a public, and what makes publics valuable.

Hello Dr. Kelty,

I am thinking about how one would apply your concept of recursive public to other groups who may, like free software geeks, be difficult to frame. A key concept for recursive public that you set forth is the generation and modification of infrastructure of the group. To what extent can one be liberal with concepts of infrastructure? Thinking about modifiability reminds me of many groups who play with the world they are in, be it a literary world or a virtual world such as second life. Building infrastructure for free software geeks at times literally means coding their world, but can we say that fans who write fan fiction are also crafting their world through the modification of literary canon? Are residents of second life who work to build virtual products and building structures and thus create the second life landscape also maintaining their infrastructure? In this sense can we apply the recursive public framework to these groups as well?

Maybe it’s nothing important but in the spirit of Open Source I would like to remark that at paragraph 34 page 14 – the word ‘perl’ (which in this version means the interpreter installed at a particular machine) should be ‘Perl’ (which means the Perl programming language). See: http://perldoc.perl.org/perlfaq1.html#What%27s-the-difference-between-%22perl%22-and-%22Perl%22%3f

Javier’s comment about Geek’s power dovetails with a comment I made in the first chapter: how selective is the recursivity of these publics? The value of Connexions, its coherency, is premised not only on the ability to intervene and rewrite, but the assumption that most of its public will not do so. This is not necessarily a problem, but potentially an optimistic, liberal technology at work. It “authenticity” is not based on broad, dialogic construction, but on highly selective dialogue and debate, where most people play a more passive and consuming role. Certain elites use their priviliged knowledge, skills, etc, to democratize these self-same skills and knowledge. Because not everyone shares these, it is worth making a public around them, organized hierarchically according to varying levels of technical/civic/etc expertise and commitment.

So–does Connexion’s “recursive public” include users who don’t post or change the site? Are recursive publics held together by their own recursive practices, technologies, laws, etc alone, their own commitment to self-maintenance alone, or must “passive” non-recursive users also feature be assigned a kind of silent place within?

I really enjoyed reading this text; I have to say free software has become a tool for many people around the world to beat the system (i.e. corporations, governments, NGO’s). Although, I’m not sure to what extent people know about or are concerned with violating laws (if these really apply to an online context). I, for example, try be ethical (on my own definition of ethics, which main point in this sense, refers to respect others work, and give them credit for it) but sometimes convenience weights more than ethics, as in the case of wanting to watch online TV from ones country for free (I am not sure if this is included in open source software since its more a website offering the service for free than a software you download to the computer for you to use, again, for free…). Given the fact that some TV channels in some countries are public to watch (National broadcasting), these should also be streamed online for free… Anyway who else would, for example, watch Colombian TV online but Colombians (Finality)…

Open source software can be seen as an exploit but does it mean that geeks, who are the ones providing these opportunities (create these exploits because they are a recursive public), are in power, somewhat controlling knowledge but most importantly controlling freedom online?

I was also a bit confused with your definition of culture (which is really hard to define in any context), not sure if it refers to culture as a whole [in terms of ethnic traditions, customs, language (verbal, or symbolic), social practices, etc] or the culture of geeks or thus an online culture as a whole.

Something that I found interesting was what you mentioned about geeks having their own language no matter where they are or where they come from. I wonder if we “Internet users” are developing our own online language maybe not as technical as that of geeks but definitely transnational and most importantly transcultural.

To what extent, if at all, are recursive publics constituted by members not necessarily “concerned with…means of its own existence as a public?” That is, aren’t these communities held together in part around the “specter” (real or imagined) of “mere” users that will benefit, never make their voices heard, never be invested in “reproducing” the presence of the community? These “users” more likely than not lack the skills to rewrite source code, write Wikipedia entries or academic texts, or otherwise lack the commitment to doing so. And yet, their existence, it seems to me, must in very important ways drive the goals, ideology, purpose, of the recursive public.

They are, in some sense, the “new phantom public,” and like Lipmmann’s phantom public they are conjured – in part – by a elites wielding scientific expertise, access to the media, and a genuine commitment to liberalism (strongest among those who recognize power, knowledge, skills are not equally distributed, and that producers/users are too sharply defined).

Calling attention to this spectral presence might mitigate a problematic rhetoric of presence and immediacy surrounding free software (which you yourself are clearly sensitive to already). It would also underscore how “free software” can be seen as in continuity with trends in modernity, variously sketched by Lippmann, Kevin Robins, and Frank Webster, where unequal access to modern communication technologies and technical expertise at once divides the people and produces the “public.”

Also, I apologize for posting this in the wrong section–it was intended for Chapter 8, where my questions relate to the content a bit more!

I’m interested in hearing your thoughts on the potential problems accompanying the role of Connexions in academia. Though it modulates Free Software, it is operating in a specific academic world.

Open Source products have, in recent years, developed into high quality products that rival or surpass, depending on who you talk to, ‘real’ closed-source, for-purchase software. The latest version of Explorer has adopted some of the successful features of open-source Firefox, and though some other Open Source software programs, like OpenOffice, aren’t as successful as their closed-source counterparts yet, it is foreseeable that in a few more years, they will be. And as they improve, they will become more mainstream and more users will adopt them. This leaves the question of how companies will respond in future years as their products come under threat. Can they feasibly compete? What will the relationship between companies and Open Source providers be?

Similarly, what relationship with Connexions have to existing academic work? It stands to reason that a collaborative, evolving textbook will be more effective and more useful to educators than a static, published one. But, can open source academic work actually compete with academic texts? While common knowledge says that collaboration is better, it seems that the academic world would have difficulty accepting it as reliable information, as so much of academics depends on peer-reviewed, reliable and reproducible work. Might its uses be limited to entry-level studies, or side notes in classes devoted to other academic work, like some of the examples you gave: “the biologist teaching a class on bioinformatics who needs to remind students of certain parts of calculus without requiring a whole course” or “the music teacher who wants students to understand just enough physics to get the concepts of pitch and timbre” (p. 253). Connexions is also limited by the disciplines that could benefit from it. As you point out, it is less useful in the humanities and social sciences, disciplines in which the module method of organization and, indeed, textbooks in general are not conducive to learning.

Do you think that these issues stand as a barrier to widespread academic acceptance of Connexions, limiting it in ways that Open Source software is not, and limiting its ability to form the fifth component of Free Software, a movement or change in ideology in academics?

Hello, Mr. Kelty,

Reading about Creative Commons and GNU project I came to a conclusion that both of the organizations are struggling as the long-run objective for “free culture” available for everyone through making the software free. But according to an article in the Russian IT magazine “Computerra” “despite the success of Creative Commons, it is being critiqued by the Free Software movement.” The main claim is that launching Sampling and Development Nations license CC limits the public access and ability to modify the software, thus contradicting the belief in “free software”, hence “free culture”. So the question raises than, where are the borders (the limits) of free culture?
During the classes we’ve been talking about globalization and its influence on culture. So another question that interests me a lot is how will this free culture survive and what will it become in the era of globalization?
Perhaps I will find the answers to those questions further reading your book, but right now Introduction and Chapter 8 have brought me to those questions.
Will appreciate any help in solving those questions.

Best regards,
Liubov Tsepkova.

I would say “ideal typical” rather than “utopian.” Indeed, there is an ideal sense to the recursive public, because that is a concept, not a thing, and one that I hope is useful for seeing what it is that geeks do which is radically different from what, for instance, corporations or NGOs or perhaps social movements do.

So, you are right, not all geeks are the same, and they absolutely fight with one another and they also struggle for power–but not vis a vis a clearly defined group called “geeks.” I wanted to find a way to point the analysis away from constituting yet another group-identity, which is a danger when one says “geeks do this or that,” and towards the practices through which one can identify people who might qualify as geeks, even those who might not identify themselves as such.

So if you read Chapter 3, for instance, you will see that there are some very serious and long-standing arguments going on among geeks, but that my argument is… despite this, they are all doing the same thing, because it is the practices of creating free software that is bringing them into contact with one another, and not their beliefs or goals.

I would add, though , that the claim about the level playing field does not imply that there is no political content to the desire to have a level playing field. On the contrary, it is a classical liberal commitment to a notion of neutrality that drives this desire. But I would not suggest that geeks are simply classical liberals… only that there is a family resemblance between classical liberalism and the technolgical arguments that lead to Free Software.

I want to jump off a point Jaron briefly mentioned. He said, “I just don’t know if this public is as recursive as we’d like,” and I am somewhat hesitant to accept that all geeks are in it for positive and constructive aims.

I will admit that I have not had time to read your entire book, but I feel that there seems to be a utopian approach/description of the recursive public in general. I know you clarify in the introduction that the geeks are not the subject of your analysis, but perhaps you can offer some more insight to the interaction of the geeks themselves.

In regards to the level playing field you discuss in paragraph 19, you state that “geeks do not simply want to level the playing field to their advantage – they have no affinity or identity as such.” However, it seems much too optimistic to assume this as such. Do the geeks ever fight? Are there any geeks who simply want to disrupt the entire process? How is the recursive public affected by those who do want to level the playing the field to their advantage?

I would argue that in every group or collaborative effort there is always a some form of a power struggle even if the control seems to be “widely shared, openly examined, and carefully monitored” (Paragraph 39). Does the struggle or dissention ever cause a major problems within the Free Software movement?

A very interesting idea, there are just two things I fail to understand. One is the incentive to produce such software. I just question whether these “geeks” really aren’t concerned with financial incentive, and whether a new generation of geeks wouldn’t become mathematicians instead, to better support their families. I understand their role in the recursive public, I just don’t know if this public is as recursive as we’d like.
Your proposal is very ideal, but it will take some work to get there. What interested me too, after reading the GNU Manifesto, was the idea of taxing computer users. This indirect form of software support seems similar to the TV licensing fee in the UK. I just wonder if you could summarize why you might support this. You seem to place a great deal of faith in the public. I just wish i could see it the way you do, as such an ideal.
Lastly, do you have any thoughts on the 1976 Copyright Act, on whether the boost it gave to corporations’ right to copyrights plays into the problem you bring up. Because the way I see it, well deserving individuals benefited more before Congress passed this bill. Because to me copyright isn’t the main problem, but corporations’ right to copyright. Repealing this act might lead to what copyright was intended for in the first place, which you talk about.
Any feedback will be of great support to my curious self.

Hello Mr. Kelty,

I had a question regarding the setup in your book in which you write that you believe Free Software and its users and creators are not a movement: “Free Software and its creators and users are not, as a group, antimarket or anticommercial; they are not, as a group, anti-intellectual property or antigovernment; they are not, as a group, pro- or anti- anything. In fact, they are not really a group at all: not a corporate or an organization; not an NGO or a government agency; not a professional society or an informal horde of hackers; not a movement or a research project” (p. X, Preface). My question is basically why you chose to do so, especially given that in the Introduction you later argue that “Free Software was becoming aware of itself as a coherent movement and not just a diverse amalgamation of projects, tools, or practices” (p. 13, Introduction).

Throughout your book you make a great case for the notion and impact of “recursive publics” as an addition to the discourse about publics, democracy and open dialogue in the 21st century. You’re clearly passionate and dedicated to the propagation of this understanding of our own, unique mode of interaction and collaboration, not to mention “It is not simply a technical pursuit but also the creation of a “public,” a collective that asserts itself as a check on other constituted forms of power– like states, the church, and corporations– but which remains independent of these domains of power” (p. 7, Introductions). So why now the reluctance to dub Free Software as a movement? In my (albeit, probably, limited) understanding of what a “movement” is, whether it is applied to a social, cultural or political context, there is some shift in the power of ideas and relationships involved.

Particularly, when you talk about the important facet of reorientation of knowledge and power implicit in Free Software, your experience of this world and the way it is changing how we collaborate and license and create, and you describe it as “incomplete and emergent, and whose implications reach directly into the heart of the legitimacy, certainty, reliability and especially the finality and temporality of the knowledge and infrastructures we collectively create” (p. 6, Introduction) it’s hard not to think of a political, social or cultural movement.

I approve of your secondary characterization of Free Software as a movement particularly because a cultural movement is generally interdisciplinary, which Free Software is inherently. In fact, you mention this far-reaching and cross-functional aspect of it when you write “It is a reorientation at once more specific and more general than the grand diagnostic claims of an “information” or “network” society, or the rise of knowledge work or knowledge-based economies; it is more specific because it concerns precise and detailed technical and legal practices, more general because it is a cultural reorientation, not only an economic or legal one. (p. 6, Introduction).

Another reason that Free Software seems to slip easily into the label of a movement is its innately political impact, which you highlight in all of your many discussions about how the emergence of recursive publics is necessarily closely connected with the phenomenon. As you describe them, “recursive publics are publics concerned with the ability to build, control, modify, and maintain the infrastructure that allows them to come into being in the first place and which, in turn, constitutes their everyday practical commitments and the identities of the participants as creative and autonomous individuals” (p. 7, Introduction). I really enjoyed your characterization of this act as a constant “leveling of the playing field,” I thought that was really accurate. But in this description, there seems to be a group of people, or “geeks” as you refer to them, who have an active interest in maintaing the integrity of this space, or action, or habit. This group of people have goals and interests for the others who are participants in this recursive public, and are actively pursuing obtaining and maintaining that state of creativity and autonomy. This implies an agenda of some sort, which could be manifested by your mentions of how Free Software is inextricably linked with copyright law and legislation.

If you are, indeed, shying away from characterizing Free Software as a movement, is it because of the traditional implication of a charismatic leader who could helm of the movement? Was it the wish of those Geeks and members of the Free Software community you’ve spoken with that this be so? Is it because the philosophies behind Free Software are so closely related with beliefs about decentralization and the dissolution of centralized power?

I’d really love to hear your thoughts, or perhaps if I am reading all of this incorrectly, I am open to your refute of my interpretations.

Many thanks,

Jessica Pettus

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