We are silent no more
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.
For the last few days, my husband and I, like most people I suppose, have been discussing the Occupy movement and the presidential candidates. Most of our discussions have centered around the effectiveness of protests on the political community. Today, the conversation (fueled by a good night's sleep, really strong coffee, and several online discussions I've been following this week) led to the main difference between Gen-Xers and all our ancestors in recorded history.
I put forth this statement into the universe. Never before in the history of humankind has information been so free and mobile. If you disagree, I challenge you to spend the day on Twitter. Yes, there is a lot of drek and twaddle and rumors and nonsense, but there is a lot of facts, discussion, and debate, too. (The key to Twitter is who you follow. I follow Breaking News, CNN, Publisher Weekly, a crowd of literary agents and editors, a plethora of writers (both published and unpublished), and friends and family who have accounts.)
An example.
Several weeks ago...wait hold on, I want the exact date, *hops over to Twitter*...on August 23, I noticed my office -- the entire room and furniture -- rumbled and shook for a several seconds. I was busy and dismissed it until a coworker stuck her head in the hall and asked if that was an earthquake. Thinking about it for a minute I realized it probably had been. So did I pop over to the local news? Or even to national news? No, I opened Twitter.
Already, people up and down the eastern US were asking the same thing -- "Did we just have an earthquake?" As I watched, my Twitter feed was taken over by people talking about the earthquake, trying to locate friends and family who were effected, trying to figure out who had felt it, how strong it was, and what damage had been done. It took the "official news" sources about fifteen to twenty minutes to catch up and start posting about the event. And as more information was discovered and posted, people passed along links to articles, disseminating information about the quake further and further afield.
It was beautiful. It was revolutionary. And this is a single, tiny example. You should see what happens when a global disaster hits or a nation rises up in protest of its leaders. Or an author is treated shabbily by a national award committee. (Days and days that discussion went on. DAYS. Do not upset YA writers. If you do, apologize. Quickly. On your knees. With chocolate.)
For the first time ever, the information is in the hands of the people and we can transmit it faster than governments, the wealthy, the powerful. Protesters are attacked in Egypt or in Oklahoma? Pictures, videos, tweets, and texts fly around the world. A dictator attempts to shut down communications to and from a country? The word, and the global outrage, flames like wild fires across the internet and phone lines (which are quickly becoming the same thing) until that government can't stop it. And it isn't just Twitter. It's Facebook, Google+, Tumblr, blogs, comments, IMs, texts, emails, and phone calls.
Governments can no longer stop us from talking to each other. They cannot spin the information in their favor any longer. Because we spread information -- facts, rumors, and ideas -- faster than them. This is power. This is revolution. This is what will change the world.
For the last few days, my husband and I, like most people I suppose, have been discussing the Occupy movement and the presidential candidates. Most of our discussions have centered around the effectiveness of protests on the political community. Today, the conversation (fueled by a good night's sleep, really strong coffee, and several online discussions I've been following this week) led to the main difference between Gen-Xers and all our ancestors in recorded history.
I put forth this statement into the universe. Never before in the history of humankind has information been so free and mobile. If you disagree, I challenge you to spend the day on Twitter. Yes, there is a lot of drek and twaddle and rumors and nonsense, but there is a lot of facts, discussion, and debate, too. (The key to Twitter is who you follow. I follow Breaking News, CNN, Publisher Weekly, a crowd of literary agents and editors, a plethora of writers (both published and unpublished), and friends and family who have accounts.)
An example.
Several weeks ago...wait hold on, I want the exact date, *hops over to Twitter*...on August 23, I noticed my office -- the entire room and furniture -- rumbled and shook for a several seconds. I was busy and dismissed it until a coworker stuck her head in the hall and asked if that was an earthquake. Thinking about it for a minute I realized it probably had been. So did I pop over to the local news? Or even to national news? No, I opened Twitter.
Already, people up and down the eastern US were asking the same thing -- "Did we just have an earthquake?" As I watched, my Twitter feed was taken over by people talking about the earthquake, trying to locate friends and family who were effected, trying to figure out who had felt it, how strong it was, and what damage had been done. It took the "official news" sources about fifteen to twenty minutes to catch up and start posting about the event. And as more information was discovered and posted, people passed along links to articles, disseminating information about the quake further and further afield.
It was beautiful. It was revolutionary. And this is a single, tiny example. You should see what happens when a global disaster hits or a nation rises up in protest of its leaders. Or an author is treated shabbily by a national award committee. (Days and days that discussion went on. DAYS. Do not upset YA writers. If you do, apologize. Quickly. On your knees. With chocolate.)
For the first time ever, the information is in the hands of the people and we can transmit it faster than governments, the wealthy, the powerful. Protesters are attacked in Egypt or in Oklahoma? Pictures, videos, tweets, and texts fly around the world. A dictator attempts to shut down communications to and from a country? The word, and the global outrage, flames like wild fires across the internet and phone lines (which are quickly becoming the same thing) until that government can't stop it. And it isn't just Twitter. It's Facebook, Google+, Tumblr, blogs, comments, IMs, texts, emails, and phone calls.
Governments can no longer stop us from talking to each other. They cannot spin the information in their favor any longer. Because we spread information -- facts, rumors, and ideas -- faster than them. This is power. This is revolution. This is what will change the world.