The revolution will not be televised. The phrase has been paraphrased many times. It has become routine, and almost safe. And it took on new meaning in popular conversation when the Arab spring erupted in Egypt and Tunisia, and the revolution really was on television — as well as You-Tube, Facebook and Twitter.
Gil Scott Heron invented that phrase. It is the title for an angry and sardonic poem, written in the heat of youthful rebellion. Oversimplifying, the poem tells the listener not to look to mainstream sources for the social revolution they seek. It will not be found in the slogans and routines of the existing media structures (the full text of the poem is at the end of this post).
The phrase surfaced again last week upon the news that Scott-Heron passed away. I do not know have anything profound to say about his passing. Yet, I did notice something odd about how the Internet has changed my memory of Gil Scott Heron. That is the basis for this post. Scott-Heron's passing illustrates it.
To wit, the rise of the Internet has not changed death. Death is still not for the living. The Internet has changed one thing about death, however. It has changed the way the dead are remembered by the living.
Many governments today, especially outside the US, are considering making large subsidies for broadband. Some governments, such as South Korea's, have already done so, making next-generation broadband widely available.
In the US, debates about subsidizing broadband touch two sets of overlapping issues. One set considers the benefits and costs of an expensive action: building wire-line broadband in low-density areas. A second set considers stretching the frontier for broadband far beyond its present capabilities to enable next-generation Internet applications (typically video).
In the US today, those favoring building ahead of demand are the most dissatisfied, as are those who want to subsidize rural broadband. This column considers the economic origins behind that dissatisfaction.