Don’t give your data to cloud providers. Just lend it to them.

Interesting NYT column by Richard Thaler.

Here is a guiding principle: If a business collects data on consumers electronically, it should provide them with a version of that data that is easy to download and export to another Web site. Think of it this way: you have lent the company your data, and you’d like a copy for your own use.

This month in Britain, the government announced an initiative along these lines called “mydata.” (I was an adviser on this project.) Although British law already requires companies to provide consumers with usage information, this program is aimed at providing the data in a computer-friendly way. The government is working with several leading banks, credit card issuers, mobile calling providers and retailers to get things started.

To see how such a policy might improve the way markets work, consider how you might shop for a new cellphone service plan. Two studies have found that consumers could save more than $300 a year by switching to the right plan. But to pick the best plan, you need to be able to estimate how much you use services like texting, social media, music streaming and sending photos.

You may not know how to answer or be able to express it in megabytes, but your service provider can. Although some of this information is available online, it’s generally not readily exportable — you can’t easily cut and paste it into a third-party Web site that compares prices — and it is not put together in a way that makes it easy to calculate which plan is best for you.

Under my proposed rule, your cellphone provider would give you access to a file that includes all the information it has collected on you since you owned the phone, as well as the current fees for each kind of service you use. The data would be in a format that is usable by app designers, so new services could be created to provide practical advice to consumers. (Think Expedia for calling plans.) And this virtuous cycle would create jobs for the people who dream up and run these new Web sites.

Life in the technology jungle: the salutary tale of the Flip

This morning’s Observer column.

The Flip was a delicious example of clean, functional design and it sold like hot cakes. From the first day it appeared on Amazon it was the site's bestselling camcorder, and eventually captured 35% of the camcorder market. I bought one as soon as it appeared in the UK, and soon found that my friends and colleagues were eyeing it enviously. One – a keen tennis player – bought one along with an ingenious bendy tripod called a Gorillapod and mounted it on the fence at the court where he was having lessons with his coach. (The coach was not impressed.) Another friend, this time a golfer, bought one and used it to analyse his swing when practising at the driving range. Thousands of YouTube videos were produced using Flips. It was what technology pundits call a “game changer”.

In March 2009 the giant networking company Cisco astonished the world by buying Pure Digital Technologies, the developer of the Flip, for $590m. This seemed weird because Cisco doesn’t do retail: it’s the company that provides the digital plumbing for the internet. It deals only with businesses. It was as if BP had suddenly announced that it was going into the perfume business. But, hey, we thought: maybe Cisco is getting cool in its old age.

How wrong can you be? Just over a week ago, Cisco announced that it was shutting down its Flip video camera division and making 550 people redundant. Just like that…

Privacy in the networked universe

From a comment piece by me in today’s Observer.

Recent events in the high court suggest that we now have two parallel media universes.

In one – Universe A – we find tightly knit groups of newspaper editors and expensive lawyers trying to persuade a judge that details of the sexual relations between sundry celebrities and a cast of characters once memorably characterised by a Glasgow lawyer as “hoors, pimps and comic singers” should (or should not) be published in the public prints.

If the judge sides with the celebs, then he or she can grant an injunction forbidding publication. But because news of an injunction invariably piques public interest (no smoke without fire and all that), an extra legal facility has become popular — the super-injunction, which prevents publication of news that an injunction has been granted, thereby ensuring not only that Joe Public knows nothing of the aforementioned cavortings, but also that he doesn’t know that he doesn’t know.

In the old days, this system worked a treat for the simple reason that Universe A was hermetically sealed. If a judge granted the requisite injunctions, then nobody outside the magic circle knew anything.

But those days are gone. Universe A is no longer hermetically sealed.

It now leaks into Universe B, which is the networked ecosystem powered by the internet. And once news of an injunction gets on to the net, then effectively the whole expensive charade of Universe A counts for nought. A few minutes’ googling or twittering is usually enough to find out what’s going on.

This raises interesting moral dilemmas for Joe Public…