Alternative computing

Why pay thousands to restrictive software companies when open source programmes are free, easy to us

This week, the Greens have joined together with Friends of the Earth, New Internationalist, People and Planet and the Free Software Foundation to call on other social and activist groups to reject Microsoft's Vista operating system and encourage the use of free software.

Free and open source software (FOSS) is written by teams of developers from different companies and organisations, and can be used and shared by anybody. The 'source code', which make the program work, is made available to all users to copy and rewrite, unlike conventional software, where only the copyright holders can make changes or legally distribute copies – usually for amounts of money that bear no relation to the cost of making and distributing a disc.

The main benefits of FOSS to a small organisation are, of course, cost and independence. Most of the software is free, and often it is very easy to use. It almost always works well with other programs and doesn't try to make you buy a whole package of related products.

With free software and some second-hand or refurbished hardware, an NGO or small business can start up an office with a couple of hundred pounds, rather than spending tens of thousands on new hardware and the vast range of software licences you need in order to do the most basic office tasks. Microsoft or Mac operating systems, along with Microsoft Office and Acrobat Professional for making pdfs, don't come cheap, even with non-profit discounts.

Professional support for non-profit free software is growing fast, with groups such Tactical Tech and Women's Net producing a collection of peer-reviewed software tools that do everything an organisation needs to get itself going, all bundled up as 'NGO In a Box'. Other tools such as the free 'relationship management' tool CiviCRM (which will keep track of your members, volunteers and donors all in one place) are helping NGOs to free themselves from the tyranny of the, frankly awful to use, Microsoft Access.

“This all sounds lovely,” I can hear you thinking. “But why is the Green Party getting involved? Surely this doesn't have a lot to do with the environment?”

Well, it does and it doesn't. Specifically on Vista, when it launched this year we alerted the world to the wasteful attitude to hardware Microsoft's new operating system was foisting on its customers. The demands of the new system meant that many components in the computers of early adopters would be unable to cope, so potentially millions of perfectly good sound and video cards could be dumped in the bin as a result of the switch. We went so far as to call it a 'landfill nightmare' and I said that “future archaeologists would be able to identify a 'Vista upgrade layer' in our landfill sites." OK that was an exaggeration, although not much of one.

But apart from the environmental benefits of free software in avoiding the throwaway festival that comes with a Microsoft upgrade, there are philosophical reasons for the Green Party's affinity with free and open source.

Greens are often thought of as being against globalisation in all its forms. However, globalisation of shared information is a good thing, especially if it means small and local economies can share the benefits of collaboration and become independent of multinational corporations. If you think this sounds idealistic, take a look at Brazil, where they are saving vast sums of money by using Linux to bring computing to the favelas, or the One Laptop Per Child project, which is using open source software to drive a very cheap and simple computer that will be distributed to children throughout the developing world.

We first adopted policies in favour of FOSS in 2005 and have been gradually moving our office systems to open source solutions since. We now use Linux for our web server and website and a range of open source programs in the office. Along with signing up to the Free Software Foundation's call for more NGOs to take advantage of the benefits, we're extending this call to government too.

Think about it. The problem of designing a computer system to run a library or make hospital appointments is roughly the same everywhere in the world. With every government hiring IT companies to create separate, proprietary systems, a lot of private profit is created. However, the governments will not own the source code at the end of the process and the companies can charge the same to each government they sell their software to. It's the same kind of deal as Microsoft charging hundreds of pounds for an MS Office licence and making astronomical profits, because the cost to them each time the software is installed is – literally – nothing.

Under an open source model, governments instead collaborate with each other and pay IT companies to develop open source systems. This means the problem can be solved once and then implemented everywhere without charging taxpayers again and again for the same thing. Upgrades and further developments can be funded and carried out collaboratively too, and this can lead to enormous savings overall. Health sector projects are already underway, such as the Open Health Information Project led by Oregon State University. Getting the UK government to embrace this new approach could bring huge benefits to this country, given the billions being put into public sector IT at the moment.

Using more FOSS in government could do more than save money and development time, it could also free us from having to get involved with companies like Lockheed Martin, who are now in the final round of selection to run the 2011 Census (as I have blogged about before).

The Census Alert campaign would be completely unnecessary if the government was able to take and adapt a free, open-source census-gathering system, developed collaboratively and openly with other governments, with data security and privacy in mind. Instead, unless the campaign succeeds (which it might – we now have Campaign Against the Arms Trade and several MPs supporting the campaign) it is likely we will have to put up with the black-box, proprietary software provided by Lockheed, plus their assurances our personal details will be safe. I know which model I would rather trust.

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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The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era