Microsoft - bad for consumers and the environment?

Sian examines how the big computer companies operate. Are they bad for consumers and the environment

You probably noticed that Microsoft launched their latest operating system ‘Vista’ this week. Three years late and containing about half the promised innovations, it’s already in for criticism, not least from me and my colleague Derek Wall, Male Principal Speaker for the Greens.

We are not only disappointed Vista isn’t better, but have some serious concerns about consumer rights and its impact on the environment too. The comment I made in our press release on Tuesday that, “Future archaeologists will be able to identify a ‘Vista Upgrade Layer’ when they go through our landfill sites,” was rightly spotted as a minor exaggeration, but I was trying to illustrate something significant.

The point is that thousands of bits of hardware like graphics cards, monitors, and even whole computers, may be junked when people upgrade to the new operating system because Vista is either too memory-heavy or just too pernickety to run on perfectly good equipment that, in some cases, is practically brand new.

The main problem is the new ‘Digital Rights Management’ tools built into the system. These insist that any piece of hardware used to play high-definition music or videos formats like Super Audio CD, High-Definition DVD and Blu-Ray, must use Microsoft approved encryption codes. If monitors, sound cards and graphics cards do not, the content will not play at all.

Unfortunately, until very recently no hardware had these codes included, so even a supposedly ‘high-definition ready’ monitor bought six months ago, won’t play ‘premium’ DRM-protected songs and films and will need replacing, leading to a lot of nice equipment in skips and landfill sites.

I discussed in my previous blog, ‘Sian’s been very naughty’ how, as a consumer or creative artist, there are 'fair use' copying, viewing and recording rights we are all supposed to have in law. But these are being denied by new DRM technologies like those in Vista. As a consumer, you should have the right to back up (i.e. make a copy of) things in your library for your personal use, and you should have the right to choose which video screen or monitor you use to view it, including your old one.

In fact, DRM is not a feature that has any benefits at all for the end-user. In fact, its only reason for existing is to protect the profits of big corporations. And Microsoft isn't doing all this just to please Hollywood and the music industry - they hope to set the price for copy-protection The Microsoft Way – and make a lot of cash.

And in case you’re taking all this in and thinking of getting a Mac instead, Apple is a big culprit in the whole DRM scandal as well, through iTunes. Apple iTunes users might be beginning to sniff out the fact that their music collection is slowly being locked into a format over which they have little control. Each song bought is a 79p commitment to stick to Apple's store and iPod players, since iTunes songs cannot be legally transferred to another format. This is at last attracting the attention of some consumer protection agencies, so far in Norway, Germany, the Netherlands, Finland, Sweden and France.

And going back to landfill nightmares, how many iPods have you been through so far? It appears that many of these cute little machines are breaking down suspiciously soon after their warranty runs out, and that Apple provides precious little support for repairing them after this happens. People are therefore obliged to replace their iPod with another one when it dies (since no other brand of more reliable mp3 player will play the proprietary iTunes format) and consumer groups are starting to object. The ‘Stay Free’ group in New York, as well as setting up the iDud campaign, is making the best of the situation and asking for broken iPods to turn into art. If you have a couple tucked away, why not send them in?

None of Apple’s machines are as green as they could be either, containing more toxic chemicals than many other hardware brands, which is why Greenpeace in the USA has produced a clever skit based on the iconic American adverts featuring their Mac and PC characters (now being reprised here with newly sold-out comedians Mitchell and Webb).

This is staring to sound very depressing. If we’re all sleepwalking into a conglomerate-controlled, Blade Runner future, what’s the answer? The Greens believe that ‘Free and Open Source’ software (FOSS) is the model to look at.

We'd advocate that more technical people look at the open source Linux operating system. But even if you aren’t a techno-nerd, there are plenty of individual open source tools and programmes that will work on your current computer. You might already have the Firefox web browser installed, seeing as it had the popular ‘tabbed’ layout long before Internet Explorer 7 took it up, but there are loads more, including whole suites of useful software such as Open Office which, for businesses, schools and government, is an increasingly practical option. I'm typing this on Open Office, for instance, and it works completely fine. Why not try it? It's free!

Other FOSS programmes that might come in handy include Scribus for professional document production (it’s rather like Quark or InDesign) and the Gimp photo editor (clearly not named by a marketing guru!).

Back in the music world, independent record labels have started to experiment with unprotected mp3 downloads, deciding to trust the fans. I think it's worth betting that if you like a band, you'll want to pay for their music to keep them writing new songs.

Other artists collaborate by sharing music files under 'creative commons' licenses where they give you free access to the files, but ask you to respect their conditions – for example by giving them a credit, or not using their work for commercial projects, such as adverts.

The net could even bring us right back to the way things started by directly supporting artists, making art ourselves, and generally by-passing the commercial middle men. But not, of course, if Microsoft and their friends have their way.

Sian Berry lives in Kentish Town and was previously a principal speaker and campaigns co-ordinator for the Green Party. She was also their London mayoral candidate in 2008. She works as a writer and is a founder of the Alliance Against Urban 4x4s
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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue