Archive for the 'in English' Category

Online privacy? Forget it!

Let me start from a bold prediction and a daring statement.

The prediction is that in 2020, online privacy will be more or less in the same place where digital copyright is today: there will be a growing majority of people who knowingly violate the respective laws on the grounds that the legal system has remained inert while the real life has moved on.

The statement is that privacy laws and copyright laws have nearly nothing to do with the interests of their alleged subjects — the individuals and authors, respectively. Instead, they serve the interests of the “big guys” in each scene. In case of copyright, this means the “copyright industries” — record labels, movie studios, “old school” software companies, publishing houses, etc. In case of privacy, this means the institutions who are the biggest processors of personal information today — national, state, and local governments as well as banks, insurance companies, telecoms and utilities.

The laws in both of these areas stem from societies where there were clear natural borders between authors/publishers/performers and audience/customers/”pirates”, as well as between processors and subjects of personal data. While it has been possible for private individuals to reproduce various works for their personal use, mass distribution was limited to a select few due to its capital-intensity. The same applies to processing of personal information — “normal people” just didn’t have the means to build a database containing information about more people than, say, their high school classmates.

Broadband internet, file sharing, cloud computing, and social networks have changed the game by enabling just about anybody to do things that only governments, corporations, and very few rich and motivated individuals could afford to do do a mere two decades ago. But the regulators have failed to update copyright and privacy laws so that they would reflect the new status quo.

The question is “why?”.

One possible reason is the ever-increasing inertia of the legal system. Individual countries have less and less room to decide what kind of laws to introduce. Members of the European Union have to follow the EU directives which cover both copyright and privacy. But there’s more — various multilateral, or, occasionally, bilateral, international agreements are in place that no single country can simply toss aside and still hope to be considered a “civilised” member of the international communities.

Another possibility is that those entities who have enjoyed the natural near-monopolies in the past actively use their accumulated wealth and power to lobby the legislators into introducing laws that would keep the rules of the game from changing as long as possible.

But most probably, the real reason is a combination of these factors, and possibly a few others as well. Clearly, our legal systems’ failure to adapt to the changing reality is not in the best interests of individuals, small enterprises, and the society as a whole.

The old power centres are dissolving. If anyone can publish and republish, no publisher can extort more than reasonable money out of the audience. If anyone can gather, analyse, share, and remix everybody else’s electronic traces, then it would be much harder for anybody to blackmail anyone, or set up some kind of a police state.

Sure, there will be people who use others’ works without compensating the authors or contributing back to the commons pool. Sure, there will be people who try to thrive on the “juicy” details of the lives of some high-profile individuals.

But I don’t think we should punish the entire society for the acts of a few ill-minded individuals — and certainly not in a way that perpetualises the establishment.

Twitter Panic in Elbonia

Sten Tamkivi tweeted:

If this tax change happens, Estonia can say goodbye to any new international tech companies: http://bit.ly/2UVEC7 Outrageous!

This sparked a serial outrage of retweets and Facebook comments. Many people became heavily opinionated about an opinion leader’s opinion about a journalist’s opinion based on a [possibly, but not necessarily] out-of-context quotation of a tax lawyer. But few, if any, took the trouble to dig out the original source — the draft law containing the proposed changes to the income tax law.

I did. And my interpretation thereof is that the proposed change would simply remove a competitive advantage that Estonian subsidiaries of foreign companies currently hold over the “real” Estonian companies: while discounted stock or options issued by the latter are taxed as “fringe benefits”, those issued by the former are not.

In my opinion, Sten just overreacted. If the possibility of issuing untaxed discounted stock or options is the only (or even the main) reason for the foreign companies to set up their subsidiaries in Estonia, then we’re in deep crap anyway.

For the record: I don’t think stock or options given to employees should be taxed before the said employees cash out. But I fail to see why we should discriminate against our own companies and entrepreneurs.

Now go and retweet this to all your friends. The world really needs more opinions about opinions on opinions. :p

Goodbye, Skype. Hello, world!

If I had to choose just one word to describe what Skype looks from inside, then it’d probably be “ever-changing”.

I’ve seen the number of concurrent users online grow from 4 to 19 million. I’ve seen people being hired at such a rate that sometimes newcomers had to actually sit on the floor while the facilities folks wrought more tables and chairs out of furniture vendors’ depleted stocks. I’ve seen the company going from private to public (eBay) and back to private again. Well, almost back — the deal is yet to be closed. I’ve directly reported to eight different managers: that’s a whopping two bosses per year.

And I really, really, really appreciated the opportunity of working side by side with some of the world’s brightest people.

But my time there is over. With the refocusing of the Skype Developer Program, my role disappeared, and I failed to find another mutually acceptable role inside the company. So, after 4 years, 1 month and 8 days at Skype, my professional status is “available” once again.

Anyway — if you’ve got a good use for more than 15 years of IT and management experience combined with an engineering diploma, a law degree, and about six languages, then let me know. You’ll find my up-to-date CV at LinkedIn.

Ubuntu magic: releases

I’ve always admired the way how a large-scale community-developed open-source project — Ubuntu — can deliver new releases with the predictability and regularity of high-quality clockwork. Every six months, a new version comes out with every fourth one getting polished to LTS (Long Term Support) quality.

Mark Shuttleworth, the SABFDL of Ubuntu, has shared his views and thoughts about why and how to manage the release cycle of complex software products. If you’re interested in the topic, then it’s a good read even if you don’t happen to share his preference to free and open source software.

Whadever

August 12, 2008. Tuuker and I take the Linda Line boat to Helsinki in order to participate in the first ever all hands meeting of the brand new four-way formation skydiving team, of which I had been persuaded to become the cameraman. The meeting results in a number of decisions: the team will (at least initially) be set up for the term of one year, everybody will commit to a certain minimum expenditure of time and money, we’re going to participate in one Bartic (Baltic/Nordic) national championship, and we’ll aim to achieve the average of 12 points in the competition. As a cameraman, I set out for not losing more than two points per competition. A few beers later, we decide that the team will be called “Whatever”.

September 7, 2008. “Whatever” is already taken on Google Groups. The team gets renamed to “Whadever”.

September 21, 2008. We’re on the road again, heading to Vesivehmaa in Finland, looking forward to completing a few “getting to know each other” skydives. Five jumps later, we’re pleasantly surprised about how well our freefall speeds match and how nicely we fly together. The future is bright.

December 22, 2008. With the choice of Swedish nationals instead of Finnish, the team calendar gets set. There will be a bunch of creeping weekends and two tunnel camps for the lower four, two training camps for everyone including the cameraman, and one competition.

April 17-25, 2009. Training in Empuriabrava. Vaike has brought along a non-teammember who ends up having two duties — to keep Vaike’s nerves in balance and to act as a spare teammember when Tuuker unexpectedly gets so sick that she has to skip ten jumps. We spend two and half days on the ground due to tramontana (a kind of extremely nasty wind blowing from the mountains that can sometimes keep on howling for an entire week but we’re lucky). My left hand gets a serious nerve pain hit, so we borrow a local tandem-videoguy for three jumps. All in all the team ends up making 27 skydives and learning that parmesan cheese is not meant to be administered nasally (thanks for the lesson, Tero!). Turo “accidentally” leaves Martyn Farr’s Darkness Beckons into the team room when his wife and kid arrive, ending up with me having developed a perverse interest in underwater penetration.

May 23-31, 2009. Basic Camp in Gryttjom. The plans to do a bunch of training jumps on the weekend just before the Camp begins get ruined by an epic failure of internal communication. A high-tension team meeting is held, ending up with a conclusion that we stick to the original plan. 80% of the team continue to get along well with each other. Due to the “good old” nerve pain, I have to skip two of our 23 training jumps (my Finnish teammates kindly recommended me to keep wanking with my good hand). Due to the wonderful Swedish weather, we end up doing a creeping contest instead of training jumps on one day. But we also get tons of excellent advice from American and British coaches; we give an Italian coach a complete crash course in Nordic sauna culture; we learn what kind of cans lonely Texans like to shoot; we fascinate the Swedes by singing the song about an ostrich and an earthworm, and horrify them by translating the lyrics into English; we share information about certain uses of the moose that’s not common knowledge outside of Finland; we teach people the ancient Estonian art of drinking vodka with silmud (lampern, Lampetra fluviatilis, or, as some female representatives of the local population put it in the next morning, “yucky fish”).

July 25-31, 2009. Svenska Mästerskapen. The competition has been moved from Gryttjom (a rice field formerly known as airfield) to Gävle. 4-way teams get to jump from PAC 750 XL (a good plane designed by skydivers for skydivers, but totally new to us). Due to the wonderful Swedish weather we only get four training jumps before the competition, but we get to go to movies and learn the horrible truth about textile-eating bears. In the competition we suck, (oops, correction: “our performance is suboptimal”) during the first four rounds, but then we get up to speed and end up sixth out of seven teams in the open category with an average score of 8.4 points per jump. I don’t lose a single point, but I manage to save us from a particularly nasty rejump by getting so close to the team in the cloud that their outer limbs fail to fit into my camera’s viewing angle but the judges can still see all the grips.

July 30, 2009. We hold the last team meeting. Tuuker says she learned more about FS in the past year than in all the preceding ones combined. Tero says he’s not going to continue with that team, as it was not fun enough. Vaike says her vision of the team’s future differs from that of some other team members and that she’s probably not going to do FS4 anymore in the immediately foreseeable future. Turo says that while we made progress, we still fell clearly short of our original objective of 12-point average. I say that without Whadever, I would probably have effectively quit skydiving by now, and thank my teammates for a yearful of motivation. I also recognise that the difference between leisure and competition sport is that you don’t use painkillers to participate in the first of them.

August 1, 2009. I spend the day editing ass movies and putting Whadever’s complete skydiving history onto a DVD. For reasons entirely beyond my conscious knowledge, I write the end date of the team as 30.08 instead of 30.07. But well, a cameraman doesn’t really to be smart — it’s enough if he can keep all the asses on screen.

Well, that was it. Once again, let me extend my sincere gratitude to all my ex-teammates. Jumping for/with a team kept me skydiving, and I certainly had loads of fun.

Kättä perseeseen ja veivataan vastustaja suohon!