Will This Book Stop The Dogmatists Waving Their Fallacies Around?

As one who loathes the use of party-political dogma to muddy the waters of sensible debate, I was delighted to read Tim Worstall's list of the top "20 Economics Fallacies" that political types wave around to justify some of their weirder ideas, and exactly why they're false. Maybe this book will help focus debate on the real issues.

At any rate, with the next general election less than a year away, you'd do well to keep a copy by the armchair to guide you through the evening's political interviews. So long as you can resist the urge to throw it at the screen.

The Hideous Cost Of Banking 'Standards'

I'm a great fan of trade bodies that introduce necessary self-regulation and create an efficient bridge between industry and officials. But news that UK banks will add to their enormous lobbying efforts by spending an extra £7-10m on a new "Banking Standards Review Board" definitely strikes me as overkill. 

I mean, what's the British Bankers' Association for, if not to ensure decent industry standards? Does the need for a new 'standards' board mean that the BBA has failed? If so, shouldn't it be dismantled? What about the Lending Standards Board? It's role is "to monitor and enforce the Lending Code and to ensure subscribers provide a fair deal to their personal and micro-enterprise borrowing customers." Surely it failed in that aim long ago?  Or is it that such bodies are really just lobbying outfits that merely pay lip service to effective self-regulation? In 2011 alone, The Bureau of Investigative Journalism found that the City spent £92m on lobbying regulators and politicians, which it described as an "economic war of attrition." Even the Confederation of British Industry has been captured by the banks.

Lord knows how much it really costs to run these lobbying outfits and face savers. But you can bet that customers and/or taxpayers end up paying for them in the end - not to mention the 2000 extra staff that the Financial Ombudsman Service has had to hire since 2012 to deal with the million complaints about payment protection insurance, or the endless Parliamentary time, or the £20bn in PPI compensation that the banks must fund. In fact, the London School of Economics found that poor conduct among the world's top 10 banks, including 5 UK outfits, had cost nearly £150bn by the end of 2012, and there have been vast fines and compensation payments since. 

Isn't it time for the banks to stop talking their way through everyone's money and just get on with the job of supplying decent financial services?

Google Spain Case Raises More Questions Than It Answers

I'm an enthusiastic supporter of greater control over your data. But I'm really struggling with the European Court of Justice ruling that you can stop a search engine linking to something lawfully published about you in your local newspaper's online archive.

The case in question concerned the appearance of someone's name in a local Spanish newspaper announcement for a real-estate auction connected with proceedings to recover social security debts 16 years ago. The individual concerned (openly named in the judgment, ironically) claimed that the proceedings had been "fully resolved for a number of years and that reference to them was now entirely irrelevant." He failed to obtain an order banning the newspaper from carrying the item in its online archive, but succeeded in getting Google Spain to remove any links to it.

But surely if it was lawful for the local newspaper to have published the item of data - and it remains okay for it to publish the data via its website - then it should be okay to allow someone to find it?

I mean, why stop at gagging Google's local site? Why not make local libraries cut tiny holes in their microfiche records?

On this point, the ECJ cited problems where multiple jurisdictions were involved, even though this was purely Spanish scenario:

"Given the ease with which information published on a website can be replicated on other sites and the fact that the persons responsible for its publication are not always subject to European Union legislation, effective and complete protection of data users [subjects?] could not be achieved if the latter had to obtain first or in parallel the erasure of the information relating to them from the publishers of websites."

But how could removing links to an item from a national search engine achieve "effective and complete protection" of the data subject when the same items are lawfully available via a national newspaper's online archive anyway? Surely a national problem such as this has to be dealt with at source, or not at all?

Another key issue is that the ECJ didn't seem to weigh up all the possible public interests against the particular individual's rights to 'respect for private life' and 'protection of personal data'. 

Surely, for example, there was some public interest in the publication of the notices of auction complained about, such as achieving a fair price for property being sold to pay a debt to the state? Perhaps if that requirement had been abolished you could make a case for requiring the deletion of public notices relating to them. But, absent their abolition, I'm not sure you can say it's "entirely irrelevant" that someone was mentioned in such a notice, even if that were years ago.

And is there not a public interest in being able to more readily find published material via search engines? Consider the huge variety of research processes that must now rely on search engines, from journalistic research, to employment checks, to official background checks. What holes will now emerge in such research processes? Will records be kept of all the links that search engines were told to remove? If so, where will those records be kept? Who will be allowed to access them? Aren't researchers now on notice that they should check individual newspaper archives for data that search engines aren't allowed to let you find? How many won't bother when they really should?

The problems with the judgment don't end there, as is demonstrated by the tortuous path the ECJ took to reach its result (explained here). 

All of this underlines the need for careful policy thought and regulatory clarity around these issues, rather than the celebratory gunfire heard in some quarters. This judgment raises more questions than it answers.

 

Has The Initial Term Of Your #Mobile Contract Expired?

Are you a cash cow?

Today I contacted Vodafone to cancel the 3G contract I took out as part of an iPad offer a few years back. It's included as an extra number on my mobile bill, so it was easy to kind of forget it in the total. Turns out I'd diarised the wrong cancellation date, and could've cancelled last October, when I was first 'out of contract'. Okay, so I'm a bit of a mug (worse, I'd long ago switched the iPad to 'airplane' mode, so wasn't even using the 3G option), but I do tend to have a lot more important things on my mind. The decent thing would have been to remind me at the time the intial term expired to give me a chance to consider if I wanted to extend, switch or cancel. But that's not part of the service...

The first customer service person I spoke to wasn't allowed to process my cancellation request. She had to put me through to another person who could. I protested, but to no avail. Needless to say, the next person began putting me through the whole process again, presumably so I'd lose the will to cancel and consider an upgrade.

I toughed it out and insisted on cancellation. The representative agreed to put that through, but said it would only take effect in 30 days' time. Hang on, I said. If it was true that I was "out of contract", as they kept saying I was, then how could Vodafone still be entitled to 30 days of my money - not to mention the extra 6 months they'd already enjoyed through my diary error? I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear the explanation.

You see, they didn't really mean that I was 'out of contract' in the sense that the contract had somehow expired. That would be misleading. If the contract had really ended, Vodafone wouldn't have been entitled to be paid for the extra 6 months, never mind the 30 days. Instead, they only meant that the minimum term of the contract had expired. That meant the contract had actually continued subject to termination on 30 days' notice - so it could have gone on for 30 years if I hadn't called to cancel it. 

When I asked if Vodafone has a process for notifying customers when they are 'out of contract' (i.e. when their initial term has expired), the representative said they did not.

Of course, Vodafone does have a process of calling you about upgrade opportunities a long time in advance of when the initial term expires. But that's just marketing. They then go quiet around the time the initial term expires, so you bear the risk of beoming a rolling 30-day cash cow.

I wonder how many customers paid for an iPad or other device through a 3G contract and forget it's still appearing in their bill even though the initial term had ended? And how many get a new mobile and don't realise they're still paying for an old one they thought was 'out of contract'? Are they to be treated as stupid people, or people with a hell of a lot of other stuff on their mind who could do with a reminder? Would they be prepared to pay a small admin charge for a reminder at the right time, or should such a reminder be a part of any decent service?

It's worth noting that Ofcom banned "automatic rollover contracts" for consumers and businesses with no more than 10 employees in September 2011. But the ban only applied to landline voice and broadband services, and it only means the customer can't be automatically renewed into another extended 'minimum contract period'. The new rule is that the maximum duration of initial contracts can only be 2 years; and at that point users must be offered an option to contract for a further maximum duration of 12 months. That means they are prompted to extend, switch or cancel.

Should a similar rule be brought in for mobile services?

 

Twitter Gnip Shows Why Social Media Should Share Revenue With Users

Source: Financial Times

Like Google's declaration of war on the human race, the news that Twitter will buy Gnip illustrates why social media platforms should share their Big Data revenue with users. Indeed, they would seem to have no choice if they are to survive in the longer term.

Gnip's CEO claims that:

"We have delivered more than 2.3 trillion Tweets to customers in 42 countries who use those Tweets to provide insights to a multitude of industries including business intelligence, marketing, finance, professional services, and public relations."

And that's not all. Gnip also has "complete access" to data from many other social media platforms, including WordPress, the blogging platform, and more restricted access to data from other platforms, such as Facebook, YouTube and Google+. 

Quite whether users consent to all that is an issue we'll return to in another post shortly. 

Meanwhile, Twitter suggests that Gnip's current activities have "only begun to scratch the surface" of what it could offer its Big Data customers in the future. Yet, from a user's perspective, Twitter has barely changed since Gnip began its data-mining activities. So are users receiving enough 'value' for their participation to keep them interested?

The social media operators would argue that their platforms would never have been built were it not for the opportunity to one day make a profit from users' activity on those platforms. And it may look like the features have not changed much since launch, but part of the value to users is the popularity with other users and it costs a lot to keep each social media platform working as the number of users grows. Each platform also has to keep up with changes to other platforms so users can continue to share links, photos and so on. That means platforms tend to lose a lot of money for quite a long time, as the FT's comparison chart shows. 

But analysing the value to users gets mirky when you consider that the social media are already paid to target ads and other information at users based on their behaviour, and that the cost of that type of Big Data activity is reflected in the prices of the goods and services being advertised. 

And it doesn't seem right to include the cost of buying and operating a separate Big Data analytics business, like Gnip, in the user's value equation if the user doesn't directly experience any benefit. After all, that analytics business will charge corporate customers good money for the information it supplies, and the cost of that will also be reflected in the price of goods and services to consumers. 

In other words, social media's reliance on revenue from targeted advertising and other types of Big Data activity means that social media services aren't really 'free' at all. Their costs are baked into the price of consumer goods and services, just like the cost of advertising in the traditional commercial media.

And if it's true that the likes of Gnip are only just scratching the surface of the Big Data opportunities, then the revenues available to social media platforms from crunching their users' data seem likely to far exceed the value of the platform features to users. 

Yet user participation is what drives the social media revenues in the first place (not to mention users' consent to the use of their personal data). The social media platforms aren't publishing their own content like the traditional media, just facilitating interaction, so there's also far less justification for keeping all the revenue on that score. And it seems easier to switch social media platforms than, say, subscription TV providers. 

So the social media platforms would seem to have no choice but to offer users a share of their Big Data revenue streams if their ecosystems are to be sustainable.