“A lot of hipsters here,” he told the South by Southwest (SXSW) festival crowd (see 8:02 in the YouTube player below). “Could meet a guy in a fedora. With an iPad 2.”
There is truth in comedy. By all accounts, SXSW attendance was up 30% from last year; for the first time, the Interactive portion of the festival has more registrants than Music (which is what originally inspired SXSW’s conception twenty-five years ago). Last year, the hot technology was geolocation, this year gaming pervades, along with all of its elements of motivation and marketing.
And yes, there were lots of Apple products in the hands of those who were there. On my first afternoon, I nearly ran into an attendee on the street. He had his newly acquired iPad 2 (with green cover), pointed ahead like a divining rod as he made his way across the road. On that same day, I rushed to the Paramount theater to catch the U.S. premiere of the documentary “Senna” (about the famous Formula One driver Ayrton Senna). Still acquainting myself with downtown Austin, I got into the first long line-up I could see.
“Is this the line for the Paramount?” I asked the person at the end of the line.
“No,” he said. “It’s the next block up.”
Thinking I had stumbled upon another theater, I rushed ahead — only to see a gaggle of blue t-shirted young folk guarding the entrance. I had discovered the makeshift Apple Store, announced at the outset of SXSW, housed in the same downtown building as Gold’s Gym. These people were lined up to get their iPad 2, which had just been released in the past twenty-four hours.
Meanwhile, I sailed into the Paramount Theater, a block up. (The documentary, by the way, was one of the best I have ever seen — a dramatic story told solely through archival footage, in the words of the historic figures).
Some call the ten-day SXSW festival (better known as “South by” among the true aficionados) the “center of the universe” for technology, film and music. The 15,000-plus attendees descended upon Austin to catch the latest and greatest, and network with each other.
There was also an inordinate amount of salesmanship going on. Corporate logos pervaded, it was not hard to get a free Pepsi, grilled cheese sandwich, beer, or even chicken curry courtesy of Fedex.
Despite all of this social energy, I’m growing increasingly disconcerted by the number of bowed heads I see at these kind of events — and in public generally. I had to shout at a man who was pounding away at his screen, even as a car was trying to pull slowly into the parking spot that he was occupying in his oblivious state of digital distraction. I finally got his attention, he walked away slowly, and then he resumed his communique. For those who know me, I’m as guilty of this sort of behavior as anyone else. But at SXSW, I had to conclude that we are fast becoming Tricorder Nation. In the original Star Trek TV series, Captain Kirk used to beam down an “Away Team” to the planet. The first thing they would do was whip out their tricorders to scan for life forms, and then report back via communicator to the Enterprise.
Well in our newly established Tricorder Nation, the Away Team no longer bothers to explore the planet, get into a fistfight with the mean alien, or even seduce the nice one. Rather, it strikes me that we’re in the metaphorical equivalent of Kirk’s team standing rooted in place where they had materialized, stuck in a rut of perpetual tricorder readings and communicator transmissions. That hardly makes for boldly going “where no one has gone before,” does it? Still, I felt compelled to attend “South By” for two reasons:
(1) To connect to people and ideas that might benefit our MCDM program.
(2) To look to the festival for inspiration, as we seek to create an equivalent for the Pacific Northwest that we’re calling Four Peaks.
The technology that we champion and explore in the MCDM, drive the very same devices that now have me convinced that we require more muscular, face-to-face interaction. That’s what we’re trying to develop with Four Peaks with the frank admission that we face a huge challenge with Tricorder Nation. All those bowed heads at the most compelling of live events strike me as the equivalent of writing a letter with PBS on in the background. There’s intelligent content out there in the ether, but you only afford it one of your ears from time to time.
I’m not one for forcing people to shut off their various screens, but it is pushing me to develop this manifesto-in-progress to counteract Tricorder Nation at live events:
1. No panel conversations. They generally suck, it’s hard to give everyone equal time, and there’s generally a huge rush to the doors by the time we get to Q&A.
2. Democratize the room. It’s a layout that I liken to the Elvis Comeback Special of 1968. Put the conversation leaders in the middle of the room — or at least “in the round” — so there’s less of an “us and them” vibe.
3. Recognize that your “audience” are subject matter experts in their own right. They have sometime to teach too. Set the rules of engagement, frame the discussion, then engage them as soon as possible in a public conversation.
4. Create an atmosphere of accountability: we’re all committed to spending our very precious attention capital at this event not just to learn, but to participate. The host and conversation leaders are accountable to the participants. The participants should feel a certain obligation to directly engage in the conversation, or at least further it online. (It’s just too bad that we can’t tweet with our heads up.)
5. Respect the energy in the room. Events have a clear beginning (framing the conversation as opening salvo), middle (the heat of battle) and end (energy flags, concluding thoughts, the gentle retreat). Kenny Rogers got it right: you gotta know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em.
Austin has always been an inspiration to me. It was the turning point in the road trip that we filmed for Independent America in 2005 — “Keep Austin Weird” was such a motivational rallying cry. I decided that wanted to live in a place just like it (albeit with a more tolerable summer), which is why we ultimately ended up in Seattle, the Austin of the Pacific Northwest (which has a less tolerable winter). Even today, I’m full of admiration when I notice that Austin’s international airport’s bookstore is a branch of its very own independent stalwart, BookPeople. If only Seattle-Tacoma Airport could house an Elliott Bay Books rather than yet another Borders.
Ultimately, Austin will also inspire Four Peaks. And yet, lesson learned. SXSW Interactive was good, but not great. It’s too big, too diffused, too distracted — hardly the stuff of community-building. I found myself spending far more time attending the superb film festival screenings. Perhaps it was because there, I was compelled to focus on the story at hand, cellphones, iPads and tricorders happily set aside…at least for an hour or two.
Of course I could hardly deny my true nature. I returned to that makeshift Apple store and purchased an iPad 2 (they didn’t sell fedoras unfortunately). One of the sales reps told me that stock was extremely limited nationwide, so Apple was doing its best to keep inventory at its two most high profile outlets: the flagship 5th Avenue store in New York — and this SXSW branch at 5th and Congress. Center of the universe indeed.