On the death of the cookie (again)

More on the death of the cookie. Good (likely accurate) quote here too:

“the next two years will be characterized by ‘madness and transition’ as the [media] industry devises an entirely new infrastructure”

FWIW, I’m pretty sure that, in the long run, this will be a good thing for everyone. Adtech has long promised more than it really delivered, while programmatic ads are really little better than spam – microtargeting claiming sophistication, but really just encouraging lowest-common-denominator, purely transactional digital nagging.

And because hardly anyone *willingly* clicks on those adverts, bounce rates on accidental clicks are mad high, making it harder to spot which things are actually performing well, so hiding potential opportunities to identify trends that could help you boost organic growth.

We’ve long needed more sophistication in digital advertising – this will hopefully be the kick up the backside that sees this start to happen.

On the death of the cookie

This move will reshape the internet, and change how publishers, advertisers, brands and marketers operate.

“View-through attribution, third-party data, DMP and multitouch attribution will be ‘dead’ under the proposals. We’re now facing a world with significantly less measurement and targeting.”

What does this mean? Initial thoughts:

  1. Less audience targeting from 3rd party cookies => more need for audience insights from other data sources. Owned web properties will become more important.
  2. Google’s stranglehold on advertising will tighten, as Chrome will track engagement metrics instead.
  3. Throwing money at supposedly targeted distribution will stop appealing to advertisers, many of whom are already suspicious of the purported ROI of such campaigns.
  4. Digital ads we see will become less obviously personalised to us.
  5. Instead, marketing will need to work on its merits – attracting audiences via sustained campaigns based around creative concepts rather than algorithms.
  6. Yet another revenue source will be cut off for publishers, making it harder than ever to fund traditional journalism.
  7. This will in turn either open up more gaps for niche non-profit publishers (and brands) to fill, or lead to a decline in the amount of content produced.

Interesting times…

Thinking behind the words

Using the Christmas break to catch up on a backlog of reading, and this passage on how reading inspires creativity (because innovative ideas are usually derivatives with enhancements) is the perfect reminder of why I should do this more often:

“When you read you might hear voices of the dead that make your hair stand on end, or that trigger in you a thought analogous to the founding thought and prompt you to write a response that grows from the times you live in, and differs from the earlier text simply because times and thinking and words have changed… You may see new things in the earlier text, and so give something back to it.”

Want to be more creative in the new year? Read more. Watch more. Listen more. Consume more. Because the greater the range of sources of inspiration you expose yourself to, the more varied and interesting your output.

Do “what the best poets do, trying to think *behind* the words… whether those words come from a newspaper, from an essay, from a hubbub on the street…”

A good new year’s resolution, that: Think *behind* the words.

Can we use location data for targeting in a safe way?

Everyone’s going to be sharing this NYT piece on location data – and rightly so. Scary stuff, with some superb journalism backed up with excellent presentation that should make the telecoms, tech and advertising industries (as well as regulators) all take a good hard look at themselves.

But the real challenge (and huge opportunity) is finding ways to enable safe sharing of this kind of data without impeaching on privacy or personal security. Because – even anonymised – this kind of data can lead to insanely useful insight that goes far, far beyond serving up targeted advertising:

“Researchers can use the raw data to provide key insights for transportation studies and government planners. The City Council of Portland, Ore., unanimously approved a deal to study traffic and transit by monitoring millions of cellphones. Unicef announced a plan to use aggregated mobile location data to study epidemics, natural disasters and demographics.”

This isn’t a problem with the concept of location tracking. It’s a problem with the execution.

Can AI devise new forms of creativity?

“In the future, we can expect computers to produce literature different from anything we could possibly conceive of” – fascinating piece about the still nascent art of AI creativity, this.

There’s nothing to overly worry us human creatives so far, based on the examples on show here – unless you’re a fan of surrealism and the avant garde, that is… Still, there’s a lot of promise. After all, “A machine that can caption images is a machine that can describe or relate to what it sees in a highly intelligent way.” Give this tech time, and it will get more sophisticated, and harder to tell from human creative.

The potential to use AI to reinterpret disparate inputs into new creative forms – poems based on images, an experimental novel based on the inputs of GPS from a road trip – is definitely the kind of thing to get creative directors’ creative juices flowing. AI can already write, paint, compose music and create photo-realistic images. How can we deploy it to boost human creativity?

Most brands know what they look like, what their tone of voice is. If you could programme an interpretative AI with your brand’s key attributes and ask it to reinterpret the world around it, what would the results be?

The answer might be meaningless nonsense, but it sure would be fun to find out.

Review: Kintu, by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi

5/5 stars

A postmodern, magic realist extended analogy about efforts to recover a pre-colonial sense of identity and belonging? Yes. Very much yes.

Brutal in places, though, as I suppose should be expected from a book that opens with a murder and that revolves around a curse – but that magical element is more subtle for the most part. It’s more a McGuffin than central, and the book more realist than magic realist for the most part.

The true centrality is instead Uganda itself – a country invented by outsiders who couldn’t pronounce its name, torn apart and warily trying to put itself back together while trying to avoid having to look too closely at its past.

So many very well thought-through metaphors, many of which I’m sure I’ve missed in my ignorance – but a superbly constructed and considered book.

Review: The Secret Commonwealth, by Philip Pullman

4/5 stars

One of the better books in the series, and certainly the most adult in terms of content. Contains a number of pretty clear parallels with the real-world events of the last few years, from the refugee crisis to dodgy, divisive politics – as well as almost certainly not child-friendly descriptions of how men leer at young women, and even a brutal attempted rape.

There are some more suspect elements too, from stereotypical portrayals of non-English people and cultures (even the Welsh are all miners, and people from the Middle East all seem to be either downtrodden victims of oppression or oppressors, with little in between) to some familiar characters behaving in ways that seem unlikely based on past behaviour in previous books.

There’s a fair bit of quite simplistic philosophising as well, but of a rather more pretentious kind than the straight-up Atheism 101 of The Amber Spyglass, which again suddenly pulls you back into realising this is still a book for kids / teens.

This shouldn’t be a surprise – of *course* it’s a kids book – but tonally it makes the whole feel inconsistent, as Pullman evidently has aspirations for this to appeal to an older audience – and to really *say* something, especially in the latter parts – but can’t quite break out if the writing for kids style that nudges him into a less complex view of the world.

Still decent, though.

Review: His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman

His Dark Materials Trilogy by Philip Pullman | 9781841593425. Buy Now at  Daunt Books4/5 stars

Still a solid four stars on a re-read, despite getting a bit unsubtle and preachy in places. Still kinda impressed that this got published as a book for kids 20 years ago, considering how soon after the pissy responses to things like The Life of Brian and The Last Temptation of Christ that was.

The strange thing is the logical inconsistency in the anti-religion message.

This is a book that basically says religion is actively bad – but:

1) The final message is that something went wrong when science arrived. It’s science that is the cause of Dust leaving the universe – in the age of religious credulity, which Pullman dislikes so much, Dust was stable and even growing. The only way to reverse the damage caused by the Subtle Knife (a product of the new science in the same way Newton was) is to meticulously fix the damage it’s caused and destroy the knife. The message there? Science is bad, and the universe was healthier in the age of religion.

2) At the same time, “The Authority” (aka God) turns out to be a delicate, senile, but seemingly benevolent being who – despite having been set up as something evil and a usurper – has himself been usurped by a much more malevolent, lust-filled angel (who used to be a man). Every other angel we meet is also benevolent. The implication? Not aspects of religion are literally true (god and angels both really exist, and are “good” despite the protestations that there’s no such thing as good and evil), and it’s only humans who have perverted it – be it ex-human angel usurpers or the fanatics of the Church.

3) The world of the mulefa – with its natural roads, seed pod wheels, and creatures perfectly evolved to use those wheels – is repeatedly hinted at being evidence of something closer to intelligent design than evolution. And “the Creator” is mentioned on a few occasions throughout the seriea in a way that heavily implies this was a literally true being, again supporting the core idea if (Christian) religion of a created universe.

4) The alethiometer allows Lyra to communicate with some kind of (never fully explained) higher power that reveals “truth” and appears to be omniscient, aware of the future as well as the present. This same force – and the witches’ prophecy – firmly underscore the idea that there is such a thing as fate / predestination. Despite suggestions that Lyra may not follow her fate, or that her destiny could be shifted by others, follow it she does. Is there actually free will in Pullman’s universe? It seems unlikely. Everything happens for a reason. The higher power, whatever it is, knows best.

The implication is, therefore, not that atheism is the way forward, as I remembered it, but only that organised religion has perverted the deeper literal truths underlying Christianity. Which makes this a much more conservative trilogy than I remembered it – effectively a fantasy version of Martin Luther.

Review: The Notebook, The Proof, The Third Lie: Three Novels, by Ágota Kristóf

4/5 stars

A strange, dreamlike extended metaphor for the eastern European experience of the mid-late 20th century.

After the shift in tone and narrative between books one and two, it wraps up with a third book of gloriously appropriate confusing ambiguity about the nature of identity and truth.

Constantly odd, occasionally nasty, sometimes showing warmth and kindness, but always detached, it’s surprisingly readable and engaging considering the unlikeable nature of the main character(s?) / narrator(s?). Four stars simply because it’s hard to love a book like this – but very easy to admire.

Review: The Passion of the Western Mind: Understanding the Ideas that Have Shaped Our World View, by Richard Tarnas

3/5 stars

Impressive in ambition, wildly erratic in execution.

Parts of this overview of Western philosophy and thinking (including psychology, science, and humanity’s understanding of the world in the broadest sense) are excellent – enlightening, clear, engagingly-written.

Others are waffly, repetitive, and lack sufficient context of explanation for newcomers to the ideas being discussed.

Yet others are actively confusing – not because they don’t make sense, but because it’s unclear how they could have been written by the same author.

The Epilogue is a prime case in point. This follows a strong chapter on postmodern thinking – one of the best in the book – that has emphasised the flaws in teleological / progress-driven / narrative interpretations of history and the universe. But the conclusion is explicitly, unashamedly teleological, expounding some grand theory of destined progression of thinking to wind up with a frankly rather patronising, paternalistic suggestion of what’s next.

Apparently the same author has also done a book on how astrology can explain key moments in history. Had I known that when I picked this up, I may not have bothered – and it does explain a lot about that conclusion.

But still, some strong chapters mean I don’t utterly begrudge the time spent with this one. A kinda useful companion to other histories of philosophy – albeit one with some very odd quirks.