Manners and camera phones

There seem to be a rash of articles on camera-equipped cellphones lately, mostly about the potential misuse of them and attempts by various bodies and associations to legislate their use.

Yesterday, Gen Kanai posted about two of them:

Japan’s ‘digital shoplifting’ plague
Korea Concerned over Cameraphones

Last week, Business 2.0 ran an article entitled “Are Camera Phones Ready for Their Close-Up?”, the subhead of which read “Everyone loves the new devices. But their misuse is raising questions.”

The BBC article that Gen linked to is about a new campaign by the Japanese Magazine Publishers Association to stop what they sensationalistically call “digital shoplifting” or “information theft,” that is, taking photos of magazine spreads with one’s camera phone. These publishers feel that if someone snaps a photo of a new item in a fashion mag to send to his/her friends (“look at this new Louis Vuitton bag!”), they are being deprived of magazine sales. Excuse me while I roll my eyes!

As I pointed out in a comment on Gen’s site, it seems to me that this snapping of photos of magazines like this is just an extension of the tachiyomi phenomenon seen in convenience stores across Japan. tachiyomi means to read while standing up, and refers to the prevalent practice among all generations of folks here in Japan to read magazines and comic books in stores (while standing up), without ever buying them. While not exclusive to Japan of course, this phenomenon does seem to reach new heights here. (Aside: I would love to know more about this cultural phenomenon. Are their any good sociological articles in English anyone can point me to?)

While many convenience stores, and bookstores, display signs admonishing customers not to peruse magazines without buying them, it seems to be hardly ever be enforced. My sense is that this new “campaign” against taking pictures of magazines with cellphones will end up the same way. After all, are they going to install surveillance cameras for this purpose, or assign a security guard cellphone watch duty? I hardly think not. And furthermore, according to the BBC article,

Japan’s bookshop owners have already said their staff cannot tell the difference between customers taking pictures and those simply chatting on their phones.

(The use of “chatting” might be misleading. Surely what the owners are referring to is text chatting by phone, rather than verbally chatting). Nevertheless, that the publishers consider this a serious enough problem that needs addressing via a “campaign” should give one pause.

As is often the case in Japan, when certain folks want to legislate behavior, they tie it to manaa, or “manners.” The posters the publishers will be asking bookstores and the like to put out supposedly, according to the BBC article, warn shoppers to “be careful of their ‘magazine manners’.” Additionally, in the BBC article, there was this paragraph near the bottom that amused me:

And only this weekend, newspaper ads warned phone users to avoid walking and writing emails at the same time.

And sure enough, in today’s Yomiuri Shinbun is such an ad:

click for larger image (55K)

The headline of the ad campaign, which apparently was chosen among entries solicited from consumers during a “cellphone/phs manner campaign” last year, and is sponsored by all the major cellphone service vendors (DoCoMo, KDDI, Vodaphone, etc.) reads abunai jyan! gamen jyanakute mawari mite!!. A rough translation would be: “Hey watch it! Look around you, not at your cellphone screen!!” Not surprisingly, a baby in a stroller is featured in the ad. (Aside: Am I the only one who thinks they messed up with the framing of the picture in the ad? The couple on the right is partly cut off and there’s a lot of “empty” space on the left hand side of the photo. Click on the image above for a larger scan and see for yourself.)

In jest, I wonder if Adam and co. shouldn’t hastily add a panel discussion to this Saturday’s International Moblogging Conference line-up about this new “manner” campaign. Surely I’m not the only moblogger who has typed up a moblog post while walking down the street. Hell, I ‘ve moblogged from my bicycle on past occassion, and I’m not the only one to do so.

Seriously though, all this recent focused attention on the possible ills of camera phones is surely something that will come up at the conference. It’s easy to turn up one’s noses at the reactionaries in our midst, but there are some important issues about privacy and ownership and copyright, and manners to be discussed, and the sooner they’re discussed, the better equipped we’ll all be to proceed rationally towards acceptable uses of this new-fangled technology.

Kamakura rapids

Kamakura during a typhoon, May 31, 2003: click for larger image (46K)

This was taken when the family went down to Kamakura in late May by car, at the same time as a typhoon was hitting the area. On that day I posted these entries to the moblog which gave some idea of the amount of rain that was falling, and recently I got back the b/w film I shot on the same day. The image above was taken from inside the car, of a set of stairs leading to one of Kamakura’s temples. The ferociousness of the rainfall cascading down these stairs is something the above photo only begins to capture.

Clubbed by my own club

For the last month or so, the commenting feature on my moblog has not worked, and several readers have emailed me over that time to let me know about it (very much appreciated, folks). When trying to comment on a moblog post, users would get one of those unbecoming “Internal Server Error” messages that needless to say didn’t leave a very good impression, to say nothing of the frustration readers must have felt after spending the time to craft a comment in vain.

However, for the life of me I couldn’t understand why they weren’t working, especially when comments to this site were working just fine. As I’m running both blogs off of one Movable Type (MT) installation, both sites were using the same mt-comments.cgi script. My host doesn’t offer support for cgi scripts that are not part of their standard package, so I was on my own, although they did provide me with access to the server error logs.

The error messages referenced a certain file called postproc.pm related to an MT plug-in I use, so naturally I figured the error was related to that file, but in the end, dealing with that file didn’t fix the problem. Then last night, after scrutinizing the mt-comments.cgi file and in particular the line of code on which the script was “dying,” I had an epiphany and I realized what the problem was. It wasn’t related to the postproc.pm file at all, that was just a red herring. The problem was due to my own haste in dealing with another problem altogether.

A bit over a month ago, after receiving some comments to this site that were of an obvious spam nature, I looked about for some type of solution to this problem, and found Burningbird‘s Comment Spam Quick Fix, which involves adding a field to one’s comment form, as well as some lines of code to the mt-comments.cgi script. I edited my comment forms for this site, but like a bonehead I never did the same thing for the moblog, and thus the comments cgi script was dying whenever anyone tried to comment on the moblog. In essence, my attempt to foil spammers ended up foiling everyone.

Shortly after Burningbird posted her quick fix, which she admitted wasn’t fancy and would only “keep out the lightweights,” Mark Pilgrim wrote a post about possible solutions to the spam problem in an piece entitled Club vs. Lojack solutions, wherein he proffered up the analogy that solutions like Burningbird’s were akin to using the The Club to protect your car against theft. They may deflect spam, or defer it, but long-term they won’t be very effective against actually decreasing it. I had read Mark’s post but still went ahead with the quick fix, figuring that while his long-term thinking was all well and good, Nigerians were about to spam my comments. As it turns out, my haste to use The Club solution kept not only the spammers at bay, but my own readers as well.