*It's a recent screed from the current editor of WIRED magazine.

*If you're enough of a greybeard nettime OG to remember nettime's vague feud 
with WIRED and its techno-libertarian principles, this is likely to be one of 
the funniest things you've read in quite a while.

*If you've never heard of the "California Ideology," that prescient work of 
distant 1995, well, I happened to archive it, because, as the guy who was on 
the cover of the first issue of WIRED, why wouldn't I.

https://bruces.medium.com/the-californian-ideology-by-richard-barbrook-and-andy-cameron-1995-c50014fcdbce

Bruce S


****

In the next few decades, virtually every financial, social, and governmental 
institution in the world is going to be radically upended by one small but 
enormously powerful invention: the blockchain.

Do you believe that? Or are you one of those people who think the blockchain 
and crypto boom is just a massive, decade-long fraud—the bastard child of the 
Dutch tulip bubble, Bernie Madoff’s Ponzi scheme, and the wackier reaches of 
the libertarian internet? More likely, you—like me—are at neither of these 
extremes. Rather, you’re longing for someone to just show you how to think 
about the issue intelligently and with nuance instead of always falling into 
the binary trap.

Binaries have been on my mind a lot since I took over the editor’s chair at 
WIRED last March. That’s because we’re at what feels like an inflection point 
in the recent history of technology, when various binaries that have long been 
taken for granted are being called into question.

When WIRED was founded in 1993, it was the bible of techno-utopianism. We 
chronicled and championed inventions that we thought would remake the world; 
all they needed was to be unleashed. Our covers featured the brilliant, 
renegade, visionary—and mostly wealthy, white, and male—geeks who were shaping 
the future, reshaping human nature, and making everyone’s life more efficient 
and fun. They were more daring, more creative, richer and cooler than you; in 
fact, they already lived in the future. By reading WIRED, we hinted, you could 
join them there!

If that optimism was binary 0, since then the mood has switched to binary 1. 
Today, a great deal of media coverage focuses on the damage wrought by a tech 
industry run amok. It’s given us Tahrir Square, but also Xinjiang; the 
blogosphere, but also the manosphere; the boundless opportunities of the Long 
Tail, but also the unremitting precariousness of the gig economy; mRNA 
vaccines, but also Crispr babies. WIRED hasn’t shied away from covering these 
problems. But they’ve forced us—and me in particular, as an incoming editor—to 
ponder the question: What does it mean to be WIRED, a publication born to 
celebrate technology, in an age when tech is often demonized?

To me, the answer begins with rejecting the binary. Both the optimist and 
pessimist views of tech miss the point. The lesson of the last 30-odd years is 
not that we were wrong to think tech could make the world a better place. 
Rather, it’s that we were wrong to think tech itself was the solution—and that 
we’d now be equally wrong to treat tech as the problem. It’s not only possible, 
but normal, for a technology to do both good and harm at the same time. A hype 
cycle that makes quick billionaires and leaves a trail of failed companies in 
its wake may also lay the groundwork for a lasting structural shift (exhibit A: 
the first dotcom bust). An online platform that creates community and has 
helped citizens oust dictators (Facebook) can also trap people in conformism 
and groupthink and become a tool for oppression. As F. Scott Fitzgerald 
famously said, an intelligent person should be able to hold opposed ideas in 
their mind simultaneously and still function.

Yet debates about tech, like those about politics or social issues, still seem 
to always collapse into either/or. Blockchain is either the most radical 
invention of the century or a worthless shell game. The metaverse is either the 
next incarnation of the internet or just an ingeniously vague label for a bunch 
of overhyped things that will mostly fail. Personalized medicine will 
revolutionize health care or just widen its inequalities. Facebook has either 
destroyed democracy or revolutionized society. Every issue is divisive and 
tribal. And it’s generally framed as a judgment on the tech itself—“this tech 
is bad” vs. “this tech is good”—instead of looking at the underlying economic, 
social, and personal forces that actually determine what that tech will do.

There’s been even more of this kind of binary, tech-centered thinking as we 
claw our way out of the pandemic. Some optimists claim we’re on the cusp of a 
“Roaring 2020s” in which mRNA and Crispr will revolutionize disease treatment, 
AI and quantum computers will exponentially speed up materials science and drug 
discovery, and advances in battery chemistry will make electric vehicles and 
large-scale energy storage (and maybe even flying taxis) go mainstream. If you 
want to see a gloomy future, on the other hand, there’s no shortage of causes: 
Digital surveillance is out of control, the carbon footprint of cryptocurrency 
mining and large AI models is expanding, the US–China tech arms race is 
accelerating, the gig-work precariat is swelling, and the internet itself is 
balkanizing.

This tug-of-war between optimism and pessimism is the reason why I said this 
feels like an inflection point in the history of tech. But even that term, 
“inflection point,” falls into the binary trap, because it presumes that things 
will get either worse or better from here. It is, yet again, a false dichotomy. 
This kind of thinking helps nobody make sense of the future that’s coming. To 
do that—and to then push that future in the right direction—we need to reject 
this 0-or-1 logic.

Which brings me to the question of what WIRED is for.

Fundamentally, WIRED has always been about a question: What would it take to 
build a better future?* We exist to inspire people who want to build that 
future. We do it not by going into Pollyannaish raptures about how great the 
future is going to be, nor dire jeremiads about how bad things could get, but 
by taking an evenhanded, clear-eyed look at what it would take to tackle the 
severe challenges the world faces. Our subject matter isn’t technology, per se: 
It’s those challenges—like climate change, health care, global security, the 
future of democracy, the future of the economy, and the dizzying speed of 
cultural change as our offline and online worlds mingle and remix. Technology 
plays a starring role in all of these issues, but what’s clearer today than 
ever is that it’s people who create change, both good and bad. You cannot 
explain the impacts of technology on the world without deeply understanding the 
motives, incentives, and limitations of the people who build and use it. And 
you cannot hope to change the world for the better unless you can learn from 
the achievements and the mistakes other people have made.

So I think WIRED’s job is to tell stories about the world’s biggest problems, 
the role tech plays in them—whether for good or bad—and the people who are 
trying to solve them. These aren’t all feel-good stories by any means: there 
are villains as well as heroes, failures as well as successes. Our stance is 
neither optimism nor pessimism, but rather the belief that it's worth 
persisting even when things seem hopeless. (I call it “Greta Thunberg 
optimism.”) But whatever the story, you should find something to learn from 
it—and, ideally, the inspiration to make a positive difference yourself.

Of course, that’s not all we exist to do. WIRED has also always been a home for 
ambitious, farsighted ideas—sometimes prescient, sometimes wild, sometimes both 
at the same time. (Fitzgerald again!) We shouldn’t get carried away by hype; 
too many of our covers in the past promised that this or that invention would 
“change everything.” But we shouldn’t shy away from pushing the envelope 
either, stretching people’s minds and showing them possible futures that they 
might not otherwise dare to imagine. We’ll be critical but not cynical; 
skeptical but not defeatist. We won’t tell you what to think about the future, 
but how to think about it.

Finally, we exist to do the basic hard work of journalism—following the 
important news, explaining how to think about it, and holding power, 
particularly tech power, accountable.

Over the next few months, you should see our coverage starting to coalesce more 
clearly around those core global challenges—climate, health, and so on. Because 
these issues are indeed global, you should also start to see a more 
international range of stories: One of the less obvious but very big changes is 
that we are merging the US and UK editions of WIRED, previously two entirely 
separate publications, into a single site at WIRED.com. (If you’re a regular 
visitor to the site, you may have noticed that we recently launched a new 
homepage, designed to make it easier for us to showcase the work we’re most 
proud of and for you to find stories that interest you.) We’ll still publish 
two separate print editions, though they’ll share many stories. Our US and UK 
newsrooms are already working as one, and you’ll see all their journalism here 
on this site. With more writers making up a single team, we’ll be able to go 
deeper into some of these key areas.

Above all, we’ll continue to do what WIRED is best at—bringing you delightful, 
fascinating, weird, brilliantly told stories from all around the world of 
people taking on extraordinary problems. Our founder Louis Rossetto wrote that 
WIRED was where you would discover “the soul of our new society in wild 
metamorphosis.” The wild metamorphosis continues, and while its mechanisms may 
be technological, the soul behind them is deeply and unavoidably human. Where 
the human and the technological meet: That’s where WIRED lives, and it’s where 
we aim to take you, every day.

Gideon Lichfield | Global Director, WIRED

Note: I owe a big debt of gratitude to Tom Coates, who was pivotal in helping 
me think about the history of WIRED and see the opportunity for the role it can 
play today.
 
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