Most news outlets are carrying a story today similar to this one (CBC) that covers the Parliament Hill protests by CUPW, directed toward the Prime Minister, against the Canada Post changes to service–most specifically to the end of door-to-door delivery. CUPW’s interest: membership will decline. And, to the organization, it doesn’t matter whether that’s because of terminations resulting from reduced work, attrition from retiring members not being replaced, or lunar conjunction. The end result is the same: the organization, like the employer, (first irony) has its very purpose and survival at stake.

The second, and even better irony, comes with a leaflet that I found in my mailbox (third irony). The leaflet, “Produced by the Canadian Union of Postal Workers,” is provided below so you can see I’m not making this up. In point of fact, I couldn’t: I’m not THAT creative.

Pamphlet side A Pamphlet side B

For anyone who needs training wheels for dark humor, let me assist. The leaflet, which is a petition to MPs, showed up in my mailbox. It has NO POSTAGE, and I am certain it was not delivered via Canada Post (don’t ask why). It clearly indicates what to do to mail the completed form to the MP for the area NO POSTAGE required (because it’s Parliamentary mail). Need more help? The union is complaining about the cuts to service, which start as a result of revenue from postage/mail declining precipitously. And even they don’t use the system to generate revenue toward their own health. It’s as if Henry Ford went to the trouble of giving his employees a good wage so they could afford to buy cars for their families as goes the legend, and instead they went out a got more horses and oats with their new “wealth.”

Love it.

I’m reminded by Andrew Coyne’s column this weekend of a 1970s song by Stompin’ Tom Connors that gained particular reknown as the theme music for CBC’s “Marketplace” consumer affairs program. Tom was not given credit as a bard or for foretelling the future. About 40-years later, though, and Tom turns out to be more right than he could have imagined.

Andrew Coyne’s column was about the way that the political parties and the political process in Canada has now fully framed all 33+-million of us as “consumers” of government services and of the output of politics (and politicians). Despite his never responding to me–directly to the emails or indirectly when I reference his work, I like Mr. Coyne’s writing and, whether I agree with his position or not, how he arrives there. Usually. In this case, I tend to agree but think he’s been sucked in to the implicit premise that his column and the odious way government treats us is based. That is: We are consumers.

The argument, loosely, is this: the Conservatives and now the New Democrats are talking about how to treat their consumers (read: us) and how to best address our needs. It is premised on Mulcair’s charge against high prices, which warrants Mr. Coyne explaining fundamental economics and competitive structures. Mr. Coyne is right on both counts, and so the rejection of the politicization of the word “consumer” is complete. There’s a problem with all that.

By immediately moving to capitalism, laissez-faire, the value of competition and how successive governments make mockery of it, Mr. Coyne accepts and assumes the validity of us being “consumers”… of government and politics. I get where it comes from: the notion that good businesses that provide value to their customers are satisfying those “consumers” by putting their interests, needs, and desires at the forefront. (I would argue that this rarely happens at the best of times, let alone in politics, but that’s another blog.) So, this being an accepted truth of capitalism that applies without thought in every dark corner of society, it makes sense to assume it and get on with the hypocrisy of politicians and political parties putting the consumer front and centre, or so they say.

Last time I checked, I was not a consumer of the nation, of society, and of my own (social) existence. I am, as is Mssrs. Coyne, Harper, and Mulcair–as are we all–CITIZENS of Canada. As such and within a democracy, we have given to those we elect to administer on our behalf the right and responsibility to serve our (social) needs. It is not their place to treat me like a consumer; they are not making a profit. It is not their goal to satisfy my typically fleeting desires for X, Y, and Z, but to show some foresight and wisdom for not only my long-term good but for the nation’s long-term good. Consumer businesses exist, these days, in conveniently demarked 90-day reporting periods and respond to the fickleness of trends, fads, fashions, and evolutions in technology. One would hope that Canada is not and should not be operated on the basis of a persistently, creatively-destructively cycle of pandering to consumers. (Perhaps my real issue is that as consumers we have become idly, compliantly ready to be told what we need by those who have something to sell us–need it or not. Again, different blog.)

Good for Andrew Coyne for calling to task at least two political parties and specific politicians for their misleading use of the already insipid “consumer focus” meme. It’s just too bad, though maybe a constraint of a 700-word column, that he opted to accept something that is a bastardization of two parts of our life. To which, I say,

“Soylent Green is people!“

Only in California…

I saw an article in the National Post today, Convicted sex offenders have a right to privacy, advocates say, that is repugnant on first (and second..n) read. The gist of it is that the ACLU is holding up a law passed by plebiscite  a California last month by an 80% majority. The “proposition,” numbered 35 and to be implemented next year, compels convicted sex offenders (who have obviously by this point done their time) to reveal to police their Facebook and other online social accounts along with their residential address and so forth.

ACLU lawyers, doing their job, are mounting what looks to be a Constitutional appeal based on the apparent foregoing of First Amendment rights (freedom of speech and assembly, etc., for those without their copy handy) as a result of this law. The surrender of civil rights to the government is not something to be taken lightly lest the dripping loss of such rights ends up emptying the bucket of civil liberties. It is a good thing that the ACLU is taking up this issue among others.

Still, the repugnance of the situation suggests that we can hope that their legal counsel is second rate. What is repugnant is the mere thought of protecting the civil liberties of anyone convicted of a crime let alone a sexual offender (and worse yet, the sexual offender of children). It seems that liberties are reasonably suspended if one has breached their civic duties–the counterpoint that gets nearly no attention by comparison to the liberties side of the coin. But what the ACLU is “fighting” for may not be the convicted sex offender so much as for you and me (if you happen to be American, actually) on what its apologists in these cases tend to refer to as the slippery slope: first its sexual offenders, then before long its… If you buy that argument, then what the ACLU is doing is justifiable.

Here’s where the situation loses me in its Scarlet Letter drama: 80% of Californians voted in favour (and we know that people always behave rationally in herds) to compel social network information be turned over to police just as address information. What’s the issue? Is there really a freedom of speech issue here? To my meagre intelligence, it’s not a freedom of speech issue as much as a loss of anonymity issue.  And, last time I looked, the Constitution is fully silent on the issue of anonymity. Think about it: what is really at stake is not the loss of the right to speak or assemble; only the ability to do so either anonymously or pseudonymously or fraudulently. That’s the real issue. People, particularly justifiably convicted (sexual) offenders are considerably at higher risk of reoffence, at least as compared to everyone else, if they know they are not being watched. Hell, everyone–especially the assholes behind the wheel of cars with full blackout windows–is more willing to do what is socially unacceptable when they (feel they) are anonymous.  The Scarlet Letter was obvious and Hester’s liberties were not taken away. The effect was fully felt though.

That, frankly doesn’t seem like the wrong thing to do even if there might be one in 100 convicts who have either reformed or were wrongly imprisoned in the first place.

A few nights ago, I was graciously treated to the group dinner at the Identity North conference, in Toronto.  I had the opportunity to reacquaint with people I hadn’t seen since DigitalID World, in San Francisco, many years ago.  Returning readers might recall writings I’d done years ago on this subject (located here). Last night was the first chance in a long time to be in the presence of a cluster of identity-thinking folks.  It was a most enjoyable deja vu.  Many new faces but it was almost like I hadn’t been redirected in my own work activities for six or seven years.

My assessment, based on a mere few hours and a limited number of conversations that captured the observer-participant essence of the day’s proceedings–not the actual event itself, is that the entire space remains stubbornly in neutral.  The demand and opportunity has grown from a dull background buzz to a full-throated roar in many parts of the commercial/social world. The technology has become more reliable and entrenched. The discussion is more polished (like the difference between a cocktail napkin drawing and a PowerPoint slide, if you know what I mean). But beneath the polish the discussion still feels like a walk through a Middle Eastern bazaar.

That sounds negative, and I suppose it is.  Basically, what I saw was a lot of passionate people with passionate opinions (almost) violently agreeing with each other… but not.  The challenge that was most significant six years ago persists:  there seems to be an almost near absence of agreed definition for what constitute the objects, intents, and activities of this sector. It’s still way too loose, a condition that makes it possible to both agree and disagree at the same time on just about everything.

If one were to read the scribblings I pointed to above, one would notice a decided bent toward a philosophical argument. I think that is a critical first step in practically anything, which today comes out in popular trade paperbacks as Start with Why or The Power of Why. But, at the end of the day, that is the domain of academics and long-dead “thinkers.” By this point in the development of “digital identity,” a much more practical and pedestrian perspective has to be applied. The fulsome debates about angels, pins, and polkas that I love so much are a circular cotillion. To get pragmatic everything needs to be define, whether everyone likes it or not.

Let me provide an example.

One of the discussions I had was with Dick Hardt, a man of passionate opinions who I can appreciate and respect because of that.  This is not to say that I agree with Dick.  A discussion I had with him and a few others is indicative though.  We talked about what is or constitutes identity, provoked by a comment made to Dick that address (of residence) was not part of identity, which bled into an inquisition of the purpose of the identity.

If I have captured Mr. Hardt’s position even close to correctly, he believes that identity is the sum of all (transient) traits attributable to an individual over the course of that person’s life, all of which constitutes a prevailing identity.  That being, the “handle” by which an individual can be identified in any given circumstance.  Any subset–or perhaps any given related attribute–thereby constitutes part of an individual’s “identity.”

My own thoughts were rusty and stagnant from disuse.  Though I think my arguments got more on point as the discussion wore on, I didn’t do a counterpoint much justice.  It was later, in my hotel room, that pieces started falling back into place.  (For instance, Dick, you cannot change the colour of your eyes:  you can represent them as a different colour with contact lenses but that blue hue under your eyebrows tends to persist for you as an individual.)  What I was inelegantly trying to get across is that the issue being argued–whether an attribute is a feature of or a fundamental element of identity–is pointless and unproductive.

Let’s use an example devoid of people to put this into bold relief.

We were standing amid tables for 12 at the Rosewood Supper Club.  So let’s assume there is a salt shaker on the table.  It is relatively non-descript:  glass, silver top with holes in it, white substance inside.  Being alone, this salt shaker is relatively easily identified as (a) a class of thing, and (b) as an individual, unique thing.  Simple.  Now let’s assume that I have purloined that salt shaker as my own AND that it is now amidst the salt shakers from all the other tables (wait staff having collected table settings to clear away the other tables).  I want to have my salt shaker to take home for my collection, but I can’t be sure which one it is.  Because they all look essentially alike and the salt content is not of concern to me, I might review the full set and pick the one that is the best sample.  Again, relatively straight forward.  If I really wanted to get the one that had been on my table, I could try to remember that its lid was undented and it was less than half full of salt.

In these cases, the “identity” of the specific salt shaker was not especially material until the last instant.  Even then, I wouldn’t be heart-broken if I got the wrong one.  The attributes of the salt shakers:  material flaws and marring, salt content, where they had been and where they were now are all, arguably and if one could trace it all, part of the “identity” of that salt shaker if one pursues the line of thought that every attribute is intrinsically part of identity.  That said, while true its not really relevant in this case.

So let’s change the situation a bit.  These salt shakers have now been put into the storage area (and I did not grab “mine,” though I did manage to put my name on its bottom).  In the storage area, the seven essentially identical salt shakers are comingled with another 200 similar shakers.  Unfortunately, the previous owner of those shakers before the supper club had used them to hold and distribute arsenic.  The management of the supper club agreed that I could have “my” shaker and I’ve been told that I can ask a busboy to go to the stockroom and get “my” shaker for me.  Management told me I could have the shaker on the condition that I sprinkled its content into a bowl of soup and ate it.  This, now, poses a challenge and risk.  But I REALLY want the shaker.

So I have to place some faith in the busboy to establish the correct shaker when he goes to the stock room.  When he comes back, I will have a shaker.  In this case, though, I’m not interested in whether it qualifies as a member of the class “shaker,” or if it is a shaker that appears to be the one that I acquired.  It has to be THE shaker.  That’s what I need:  certainty that I’ve got the exact right thing.  The consequences could be fairly high otherwise.

What does this silly scenario tell us?  It’s silly only inasmuch as the thing is a shaker and not a person.  Otherwise, it is almost completely equivalent to our desires vis a vis “digital identity” and online activity–excepting, of course, that most salt shakers are not terribly concerned about their privacy.

What the scenario tells us, first and foremost, is that nobody is practically interested in identity.  Nobody cares if some small and special group of attributes about a thing constitute its “identity” or if a full historical listing of attributes from time to time is required.  What everyone cares about, at any given time, is the THING.  That’s right.  In the case of digital identity about people, it’s well to remember that what we care about is the unique individual (shaker) that we are engaged with online.  We don’t care that we are engaged with a cluster of attributes because arguably many could have the same set of attributes.  We’re interested in THAT ONE unique entity.  And, frankly, we don’t care how that is assured.

“Assurance” is the other matter.  We want to be “assured” that we have the right thing in our sights.  We seek some measure of certainty because that’s how the human mind (and business) works.  The gap between certainty and “what is” is known as risk.  That gap is covered by money in one way or another; ask an actuary or life insurance executive.

So, circling back around to my point, I think the entire sector and people working in it would be well served if there were some definitions made and agreed to, and some conventions accepted.

1.  The thing we’re interested in is the unique individual.  A unique individual has a certain set of unchanging features that constitute who (s)he is.  These are the core of the identity per se.

2.  “Identity” is a construct that represents a way to “identify” such a unique individual based on attributes that are attached to that unique individual.

3.  “Attributes” are those elements and identifiers attached to an individual that make it feasible to point to a desired target individual.  Note that here I get a little weasely because some attributes might point to a class rather than an individual.  Attributes can be permanent (e.g., eye colour and fingerprints) or transient (i.e., address); most are transient.  The triangulation toward certainty about the individual is based on a set of attributes that are or can be attached to a unique individual.

4.  Credential (digital or otherwise) is a verified artefact that allows a secondary entity to place some measure of faith in an assertion that a unique individual and an attribute are (presently) connected.  For any given purpose, this credential will afford greater or lesser certainty about the unique individual.  The point being that, like for the salt shaker, some times imperfect assurance is satisfactory.  (In the gym, I might be identified as the guy in the blue shorts–or sweating profusely.  At the bank this might be neither satisfactory nor sufficient–or true for that matter.)

The long and the short of it is that until the digital identity cognoscenti lay down reasonable definitions and stop allowing all discussions to float around haphazardly, the pragmatic development we all hope for will be delayed by agreed disagreement.

BTW:  I retain the right to amend the example based on feedback and on rethinking as it plays out.  There could be ongoing evolution to the details of the example I created (which, by the way, probably works better amid rounds of banquet tables…)