Does the 485th richest person in Britain really need to crowdfund a mobile phone?

People get fanatical about open-source software, but Canonical Inc. is not a charity, writes Alex Hern.

Yesterday, Canonical, the private company which leads development of the open-source operating system Ubuntu, started a crowdfunding campaign on the site IndieGoGo. The aim is to raise $32m to enable the production of the "Ubuntu Edge", a planned smartphone running the operating system which will incorporate elements of the desktop software, to create what the company calls "next generation of personal computing".

The device itself looks promising, although with a starter price of $830 (the crowdfunding campaign is offering discounts of up to $230 to early backers) it will need to be top-of-the-line to compete. Nonetheless, just a day in and they have already raised over $4m. But there's a bigger question to be asked, which is: why crowdfund?

The relationship between Ubuntu and Canonical can be confusing, at least to people outside the world of open-source software development. "Open-source" is the term for software which has been released to the commons by its creators. There's a number of ways to do this, but the most popular is with a so-called "copyleft" license, like the "GNU general public license", or GPL. That allows anyone to take the source code of a program and use it to make new things, without asking permission or paying anyone anything; but, it requires that any new software which is made is also licensed under the GPL, and has its source code released to the public.

Ubuntu, the operating system which Canonical leads development of, is licensed in this way. It's based on a family of open-source operating systems called GNU/Linux, and so it would be difficult (although not impossible) to charge for: anyone who wanted to get the software for free could perfectly legally download the source code, compile it, and then host it themselves.

Instead, the way companies such as Canonical make their money is by selling customer support and similar services to users of open source software. But with the Ubuntu Edge, they won't even have to do that. While the software will be open source, the hardware is still something people will have to buy, so they will be able to make money on it far more directly. And they do make money; Canonical is a private company with a reported annual revenue of $30m, founded by Mark Shuttleworth, the 485th richest person in Britain, who bought a flight on the International Space Station in 2002 for $20m.

If you're a multi-million dollar company headed by a multimillionaire with a bolshie idea for a product which could make you a lot of money, the normal way to do things is to sell shares and take loans until you've got enough cash to fund the product; then sell that product to customers. Taking thousands of pre-orders for a phone which you won't deliver until May 2014 – and which you have no contractual obligation to deliver at all, because crowdfunding sites are not e-commerce sites – and dressing it up in the aesthetics of artistic patronage is an odd, and slightly distasteful, way of doing things.

Kickstarter, the leading crowdfunding site, recently doubled-down on its opposition to this sort of campaign, writing that it's a service "to help bring creative projects to life", and tightening up its rules to prevent companies using it to launch their businesses. It's not hard to see why, when this is the sort of thing which has been stopped.

The Ubuntu Edge docked with a monitor. Photograph: Canonical, Inc.

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Should we protect artificial intelligence from sexual harassment?

Should anything be done to stop people sending sexually explicit messages to their AI personal assistants?

If you ask Apple’s artificially intelligent personal assistant “Siri” whether it is a virgin, it will waste no time in shooting you down. “We were talking about you, not me,” it replies in the clear, sharp tones of Susan Bennett, the woman chosen to voice the genderless computer program.

If you ask Apple’s artificially intelligent personal assistant “Siri” whether it is a virgin, you are probably not very weird. But a recent article in Quartz has detailed the extent to which AI systems – particularly personal assistant bots – are sexually harassed. Ilya Eckstein, CEO of Robin Labs, claims 5 percent of interactions in their database are sexually explicit, and that “some people try very hard to establish a relationship with the bot.”

Engineers have been aware of this problem for a while. Microsoft’s Cortana has been programmed to fend off sexual harassment, with Deborah Harrison, an editorial writer for the program, claiming: “If you say things that are particularly asshole-ish to Cortana, she will get mad.” But what about the other “female” AI out there? Amazon’s Alexa and Google Assistant, which is voiced by a woman, don’t currently seem to fend for themselves, so should we be fighting for them?

Probably not. Although developers should definitely program their “female” AI to shoot down anyone feeling frisky, as long as AI lacks sentience it’s hard to see these sexual interactions as a big enough problem to warrant further action. Yes, undoubtedly some lonely people have taken inspiration from Spike Jonze’s Her and fancy an AI girlfriend, and yes, a robust robot reply that teaches men to respect women can only be a good thing, but on the whole, most people that get saucy with Siri aren’t actually deranged perverts. They are just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking them to say the world “willy”.

This is because despite what Quartz are claiming, the “sexual harassment” of bots is nothing new. It might, in fact, not even be gendered. Who among the MSN users of the Noughties didn’t ask the chatterbot SmarterChild whether he (most people, and media outlets, considered it a “he”) liked sex or had a penis? In fact, if you search Google Images for “Smarterchild”, pretty much all the screencapped chats are sexually explicit in some way.

Tumblr: The Dynamic Conversationalist

It’s hard to see someone sexting Siri as a problem, then, because it is part of a long tradition of humans being incredibly, incredibly dumb. Find me the man who doesn’t provoke every new chat bot on the market in the hopes of making them say something funny or rude, and you have found me a liar.

It is, of course, a big problem that AI personal assistants are so often female, as – in Laurie Penny’s words – it “says an uncomfortable amount about the way society understands both women and work.” But this, therefore, is the problem we should be tackling – instead of wasting our time debating the ethics and legality of coming on to Cortana.

I recently attended the UK launch of Amazon Echo, whose personal assistant is Alexa. Watching a room of old, balding, white, male journalists laugh heartily as the speaker on stage commanded Alexa to “Stop”, definitely troubled me. “If only I could get my…” began the speaker – as I desperately willed him not to say the word “wife” – “…children to do that,” he finished. Before we even begin to consider sexually explicit chatter, then, we should be confronting the underlying issue of gender bias in the AI industry.

Once we can set our personal assistants to have either male or female – or, even better, completely genderless – voices, we can get back to using them for what they were intended for. Asking them if they're virgins and then laughing at the response.

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.