Will widespread adoption of emerging digital technologies such as the Internet of Things and Artificial Intelligence improve people’s lives? The answer appears to be an easy “yes.” The positive potential of data seems self-evident. Yet, this issue is being actively discussed across international summits and events. Thus, the agenda of Global Technology Government Summit 2021 is dedicated to questions around whether and how “data can work for all”, emphasizing trust aspects, and especially ethics of data use. Not without a reason, at least 50 countries are grappling independently with how to define ethical data use smoothly without violating people’s private space, personal data, and many other sensitive aspects.
What is ethics per se? Aristotle proposed that ethics is the study of human relations in their most perfect form. He called it the science of proper behavior. Aristotle claimed that ethics is the basis for creating an optimal model of fair human relations; ethics lie at the foundation of a society’s moral consciousness. They are the shared principles necessary for mutual understanding and harmonious relations.
Ethical principles have evolved many times over since the days of the ancient Greek philosophers and have been repeatedly rethought (e.g., hedonism, utilitarianism, relativism, etc.). Today we live in a digital world, and most of our relationships have moved online to chats, messengers, social media, and many other ways of online communication. We do not see each other, but we do share our data; we do not talk to each other, but we give our opinions liberally. So how should these principles evolve for such an online, globalized world? And what might the process look like for identifying those principles?
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2020 and the lockdowns clearly demonstrate that we plunge into the digital world irrevocably. As digital technologies become ever more deeply embedded in our lives, the need for a new, shared data ethos grows more urgent. Without shared principles, we risk exacerbating existing biases that are part of our current datasets. Just a few examples:
These examples all contribute to distrust or rejection of potentially beneficial new technological solutions. What ethical principles can we use to address the flaws in technologies that increase biases, profiling, and inequality? This question has led to significant growth in interest in data ethics over the last decade (Figures 1 and 2). And this is why many countries are now developing or adopting ethical principles, standards, or guidelines.
Countries are taking wildly differing approaches to address data ethics. Even the definition of data ethics varies. Look, for example, at three countries—Germany, Canada, and South Korea—with differing geography, history, institutional and political arrangements, and traditions and culture.
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Germany established a Data Ethics Commission in 2018 to provide recommendations for the Federal Government’s Strategy on Artificial Intelligence. The Commission declared that its operating principles were based on the Constitution, European values, and its “cultural and intellectual history.” Ethics, according to the Commission, should not begin with establishing boundaries. Rather, when ethical issues are discussed early in the creation process, they may make a significant contribution to design, promoting appropriate and beneficial applications of AI systems.
In Canada, the advancement of AI technologies and their use in public services has spurred a discussion about data ethics. The Government of Canada’s recommendations focuses on public service officials and processes. It provided guiding principles to ensure ethical use of AI and developed a comprehensive Algorithmic Impact Assessment online tool to help government officials explore AI in a way that is “governed by clear values, ethics, and laws.”
The Korean Ministry of Science and ICT, in collaboration with the National Information Society Agency, released Ethics Guidelines for the Intelligent Information Society in 2018. These guidelines build on the Robots Ethics Charter. It calls for developing AI and robots that do not have “antisocial” characteristics.” Broadly, Korean ethical policies mainly focused on the adoption of robots into society, while emphasizing the need to balance protecting “human dignity” and “the common good."
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The differences among these initiatives seem to be related to traditions, institutional arrangements, and many other cultural and historical factors. Germany places emphasis on developing autonomous vehicles and presents a rather comprehensive view on ethics; Canada puts a stake on guiding government officials; Korea approaches questions through the prism of robots. Still, none of them clearly defines what data ethics is. None of them is meant to have a legal effect. Rather, they stipulate the principles of the information society. In our upcoming study, we intend to explore the reasons and rationale for different approaches that countries take.
Discussion and debate on data and technology ethics undoubtedly will continue for many years to come as digital technologies continue to develop and penetrate into all aspects of human life. But the sooner we reach a consensus on key definitions, principles, and approaches, the easier the debates can turn into real actions. Data ethics are equally important for government, businesses, individuals and should be discussed openly. The process of such discussion will serve itself as an awareness and knowledge-sharing mechanism.
Recall the Golden Rule of Morality: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. We suggest keeping this in mind when we all go online.By Alexandra Kleeman / Illustration by Matthieu Bourel Over the last few months of the paralyzing pandemic, my playlists have converged on a familiar refrain: Despite all that we’ve been through, everything’s gonna be all right. This sentiment is a staple of pop — a timeless phrase, like “I want you back” or “I’d do anything for you, ” that is retooled slightly each time for the contemporary heart. I heard it in the Asheville-based Indigo de Souza’s “Hold U, ” with its exhilarating refrain of “I will hold u” and “It’s gonna be alright” crowd-surfing a retro-funk bass line, and in the offbeat British indie band Metronomy’s crooned proposal that “Things will be fine, ” the chorus to a song of the same title. Recently, while jogging long loops to music in the park, I thought I heard something different in the phrase. It was not just a direct, intimate assurance: It felt as if it were addressing a crowd. A chorus is a kind of incantation, making fragile feelings solid through repetition — and maybe if things are going to get better, we need to embrace a bit of collective magical thinking.
The Church Cracked Open: Disruption, Decline, And New Hope For Beloved Community: Spellers, Stephanie: 9781640654242: Amazon.com: Books
But as much as I want my anxieties soothed, I also feel more at home with an optimistic feeling when it teeters a bit, acknowledging how precarious hope can feel in uncertain times. “Dash Snow, ” a track by the British art-pop iconoclast Dean Blunt, known for his sludgy, atmospheric arrangements ballasted by a laconic, deep-voiced delivery, may not be uplifting — but it is grounding. “Don’t let me down, don’t let me down, ” Blunt drawls over the lazy, swirling echo of a distorted electric guitar, playing with the emphasis. He grapples with the conflicting imperatives of positivity and vulnerability. The request for reassurance, repeated and rephrased, suddenly slips into reverse — a sort of cautious self-soothing, like wrapping your arms around yourself and holding tight. “It’s gonna be alright, ” he continues, which becomes simply “be alright” — a semiprivate thought that might as well be a command. Read More
It’s common for a song to work at persuading the addressee or the listener, but “Dash Snow” has the feel of someone trying to convince himself, shifting between contradictory feelings that begin to blur. Pressed together, they form a difficult-to-name compound emotion — one that presses together the commingled urgency and uncertainty of the pandemic, the climate crisis, racialized capitalism and rampant overconsumption, omens of a brittle future.
There’s a similar affect powering the rapper Noname’s most recent single, “Rainforest, ” which overlays a sleek and danceable samba track with language that references the postcolonial theorist Frantz Fanon, the theft of Indigenous land and “blood on the moon, ” perhaps a nod to a James Ellroy novel set during the 1965 riots over police violence against Los Angeles’s Black residents. With low, chilly vocals that hug the beat close, Noname presses into the uneasy suture of structural injustice and individual needs. Single lines pull toward disparate readings: “How you lemonade all your sadness when you openin up/how you make excuses for billionaires/you broke on the bus” scans the first time as a question, and the second time as flat description, the answer to a question no longer being asked.
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It’s in the chorus that Noname veers from the steady speech that marks the verses. Here she’s almost singing: “The rainforest cries/Everybody dies a little/and I just want to dance tonight/and I just wanna dance tonight.” The line expresses a drive to live as much as it mourns; it acknowledges our appetite for escapist distraction, as well as our longing for the possibility of something better. On the repeat, the words change subtly: There’s no and linking the macro to the micro anymore — just two incommensurable moods set side by side, revealing the vertiginous space in which our lives unfold. This ambiguity could be the foundation for a cautious optimism. It reaches for
The differences among these initiatives seem to be related to traditions, institutional arrangements, and many other cultural and historical factors. Germany places emphasis on developing autonomous vehicles and presents a rather comprehensive view on ethics; Canada puts a stake on guiding government officials; Korea approaches questions through the prism of robots. Still, none of them clearly defines what data ethics is. None of them is meant to have a legal effect. Rather, they stipulate the principles of the information society. In our upcoming study, we intend to explore the reasons and rationale for different approaches that countries take.
Discussion and debate on data and technology ethics undoubtedly will continue for many years to come as digital technologies continue to develop and penetrate into all aspects of human life. But the sooner we reach a consensus on key definitions, principles, and approaches, the easier the debates can turn into real actions. Data ethics are equally important for government, businesses, individuals and should be discussed openly. The process of such discussion will serve itself as an awareness and knowledge-sharing mechanism.
Recall the Golden Rule of Morality: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. We suggest keeping this in mind when we all go online.By Alexandra Kleeman / Illustration by Matthieu Bourel Over the last few months of the paralyzing pandemic, my playlists have converged on a familiar refrain: Despite all that we’ve been through, everything’s gonna be all right. This sentiment is a staple of pop — a timeless phrase, like “I want you back” or “I’d do anything for you, ” that is retooled slightly each time for the contemporary heart. I heard it in the Asheville-based Indigo de Souza’s “Hold U, ” with its exhilarating refrain of “I will hold u” and “It’s gonna be alright” crowd-surfing a retro-funk bass line, and in the offbeat British indie band Metronomy’s crooned proposal that “Things will be fine, ” the chorus to a song of the same title. Recently, while jogging long loops to music in the park, I thought I heard something different in the phrase. It was not just a direct, intimate assurance: It felt as if it were addressing a crowd. A chorus is a kind of incantation, making fragile feelings solid through repetition — and maybe if things are going to get better, we need to embrace a bit of collective magical thinking.
The Church Cracked Open: Disruption, Decline, And New Hope For Beloved Community: Spellers, Stephanie: 9781640654242: Amazon.com: Books
But as much as I want my anxieties soothed, I also feel more at home with an optimistic feeling when it teeters a bit, acknowledging how precarious hope can feel in uncertain times. “Dash Snow, ” a track by the British art-pop iconoclast Dean Blunt, known for his sludgy, atmospheric arrangements ballasted by a laconic, deep-voiced delivery, may not be uplifting — but it is grounding. “Don’t let me down, don’t let me down, ” Blunt drawls over the lazy, swirling echo of a distorted electric guitar, playing with the emphasis. He grapples with the conflicting imperatives of positivity and vulnerability. The request for reassurance, repeated and rephrased, suddenly slips into reverse — a sort of cautious self-soothing, like wrapping your arms around yourself and holding tight. “It’s gonna be alright, ” he continues, which becomes simply “be alright” — a semiprivate thought that might as well be a command. Read More
It’s common for a song to work at persuading the addressee or the listener, but “Dash Snow” has the feel of someone trying to convince himself, shifting between contradictory feelings that begin to blur. Pressed together, they form a difficult-to-name compound emotion — one that presses together the commingled urgency and uncertainty of the pandemic, the climate crisis, racialized capitalism and rampant overconsumption, omens of a brittle future.
There’s a similar affect powering the rapper Noname’s most recent single, “Rainforest, ” which overlays a sleek and danceable samba track with language that references the postcolonial theorist Frantz Fanon, the theft of Indigenous land and “blood on the moon, ” perhaps a nod to a James Ellroy novel set during the 1965 riots over police violence against Los Angeles’s Black residents. With low, chilly vocals that hug the beat close, Noname presses into the uneasy suture of structural injustice and individual needs. Single lines pull toward disparate readings: “How you lemonade all your sadness when you openin up/how you make excuses for billionaires/you broke on the bus” scans the first time as a question, and the second time as flat description, the answer to a question no longer being asked.
Art Of The Steal: European Museums Wrestle With Returning African Art
It’s in the chorus that Noname veers from the steady speech that marks the verses. Here she’s almost singing: “The rainforest cries/Everybody dies a little/and I just want to dance tonight/and I just wanna dance tonight.” The line expresses a drive to live as much as it mourns; it acknowledges our appetite for escapist distraction, as well as our longing for the possibility of something better. On the repeat, the words change subtly: There’s no and linking the macro to the micro anymore — just two incommensurable moods set side by side, revealing the vertiginous space in which our lives unfold. This ambiguity could be the foundation for a cautious optimism. It reaches for
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