Naturally, Labor’s shock loss has left the party reeling. But Scott Morrison, too, should heed the warning it sends for his party’s third term.
Optus was recently hit with a $10m fine plus must pay refunds to 240,000 customers for misleading them and charging them via their Direct Carrier Billing (DCB) charges for ringtones, games, tv show voting etc etc (here’s some more details: https://www.afr.com/business/
As part of this Optus must refund customers. However, I believe the way they are doing so is deceptive.
The current process is this:
– Optus sends text message to customer with a code, saying they have a pending refund and to go to this link: http://dcbrefunds.optus.com.au to enter the code
– This site redirects to https://custface.azurewebsites.net
– Customer enters the code, then can fill in a form requesting home address.
– Customer is mailed a cheque.
Upon receiving the text, I assumed it was a scam. I investigated the link, and once redirected to the https://custface.azurewebsites.net link I was sure it was a scam. I then contacted Optus support separately to confirm it was a scam and to my surprise, found out it was in fact, legitimate.
Here are my concerns:
1. I believe Optus is intentionally playing on the fact the original text message looks like a scam to decrease the number of customers claiming their refunds.
2. I believe Optus is intentionally using an external URL so the process looks like a scam to decrease the number of customers claiming their refunds.
3. The fact Optus is informing a customer in this way and it is in fact legitimate will lead to many future situations where customers will click actual scam links in the future.
What are your thoughts Whirlpool? My concern is Optus is attempting to save money by not paying their customers back. I assume the ACCC ruling forced them to contact their customers. But I believe they are purposely making this sms to contact them look like a scam so not many customers will request the refund, saving Optus millions of dollars. What do you think
As it stands, machine intelligence functions an extension of corporations and power.
And that’s why all the stories are interlinked: from Wall Street to venture capital; from ridiculous startups to Uber/Lyft model of burning VC money till (the company hopes) it becomes a monopoly; from stagnation in wages to automation in the workplace.
Machine intelligence isn’t only an extension of power, and it doesn’t even have to be mostly that. But it is mostly that where we are.
That’s a story much bigger than Zuckerberg, Dorsey, Schmidt, Sandberg, Brin who-have-you. It’s also a story of Wall Street and increasing financialization of the world; it’s a story of what people are calling neoliberalism that’s been underway for decades. It is also a technical story: of machine learning and data surveillance, and our current inability deal with the implications of the whole technological stack as it is composed: hardware firmware mostly manufactured in China. Software everywhere that I’ve previously compared to building skyscrapers on swampy land. Our fundamentally insecure designs. Perhaps, more importantly our lack of functioning, sustainable alternatives that respect us, rather than act as extensions of their true owners.
The show did indeed take a turn for the worse, but the reasons for that downturn goes way deeper than the usual suspects that have been identified (new and inferior writers, shortened season, too many plot holes). It’s not that these are incorrect, but they’re just superficial shifts. In fact, the souring of Game of Thrones exposes a fundamental shortcoming of our storytelling culture in general: we don’t really know how to tell sociological stories.
The overly personal mode of storytelling or analysis leaves us bereft of deeper comprehension of events and history. Understanding Hitler’s personality alone will not tell us much about rise of fascism, for example. Not that it didn’t matter, but a different demagogue would probably have appeared to take his place in Germany in between the two bloody world wars in the 20th century. Hence, the answer to “would you kill baby Hitler?,” sometimes presented as an ethical time-travel challenge, should be “no,” because it would very likely not matter much. It is not a true dilemma.
Tufekci explains that this is the same reason we have problems talking about historic technological transition.
In my own area of research and writing, the impact of digital technology and machine intelligence on society, I encounter this obstacle all the time. There are a significant number of stories, books, narratives and journalistic accounts that focus on the personalities of key players such as Mark Zuckerberg, Sheryl Sandberg, Jack Dorsey and Jeff Bezos. Of course, their personalities matter, but only in the context of business models, technological advances, the political environment, (lack of) meaningful regulation, the existing economic and political forces that fuel wealth inequality and lack of accountability for powerful actors, geopolitical dynamics, societal characteristics and more.
Maybe this is a part of what Douglas Rushkoff touches on in his criticism of storytelling.
The authorship controversy, almost as old as the works themselves, has yet to surface a compelling alternative to the man buried in Stratford. Perhaps that’s because, until recently, no one was looking in the right place. The case for Emilia Bassano.
My introduction to organizing meetings was in the military, where different types of meetings had standard structures. The Orders Format was something any officer could recite from memory. During officer training we were shown the 1976 John Cleese film, which was updated in 1993 — Meetings, Bloody…
As I’ve opted out of Facebook, what I’ve noticed is, first of all, that I don’t feel ragingly angry. I don’t know who went on vacation where, unless I talk to them via text message, and I don’t care. I don’t care about political articles that are specifically designed to infuriate me. I don’t care about people I went to college with ten years ago. My world is neater and quieter.
At the same time, I miss more and more events targeted at my daughter’s age level that we could have attended. I miss small observations that my friends wouldn’t make over text that they do via Facebook posts that I no longer discuss with them. I miss parenting conversations that are extremely relevant to my local school district. I miss birthdays that I should have written down in my paper calendar, but didn’t. I miss discussions the Jewish community at large, which I am connected to digitally instead of physically, is having. By opting out of performing emotional labor on Facebook and going into my own sort of media hibernation, I miss the steady background hum of “having my finger on the pulse” as it relates to me and my family.
We are all connected to the spigot, even if we want to opt out. Social media contains all of our news, our family’s baby pictures, extensions of our lives in one exhausting digital stream. One glaring example that comes to mind is Facebook specifically.
Although I’ve written extensively about how important it is to get off the platform as soon as you are humanly able, for the sake of our collective mental health, I find myself not being able to take my own advice.
Not because I’m addicted, but because Facebook, for better or worse, is still the platform where social events are planned. Where parent groups exchange information. Where family pictures are shared and discussed. To willingly walk away from Facebook and all of its needy notifications is to experience both immense relief and complete ostracism.
This reminds me of Venkatesh Rao’s pushback on Waldenponding. I wonder if one strategy is managing your feeds through a form of social media jujitsu or simply writing the web we want as captured by the #ProSocialWeb movement.
ABC Education has launched a new resource for Australian students to learn more about their country’s Indigenous history.
In writing almost 100 posts on innovation since 2007, it’s time to put the core observations together into a cohesive narrative. Here goes.
Innovation is fifteen different things to fifteen different people.
“An innovation is the implementation of a new or significantly improved product (good or…
Which brings me to the saddest thing about these platforms: they are taking all of our input and time, and our thoughts, energy, and content, and using all of that for free to make money. Think about how many times you’ve tweeted. Or written or commented on a Facebook post. Or started a Medium draft. These are all our words, locked in proprietary platforms that controls not only how our message is displayed, but how we write it, and even more worrying, how we think about it.
- Write your own blog on your own platform
- Share good content
- Acknowledge creators by paying them
- Use adblockers
- Engage in dialogue with people who are different from you
Don’t CRAAP, SIFT
- (I)nvestigate the Source
- (F)ind better coverage
- (T)race claims, quotes, and media back to the original context
Caulfield sums up this change as “Don’t CRAAP, SIFT.”
Imagine a competitive market in which they could choose among one network that offered higher privacy standards, another that cost a fee to join but had little advertising and another that would allow users to customize and tweak their feeds as they saw fit. No one knows exactly what Facebook’s competitors would offer to differentiate themselves. That’s exactly the point.
It’s, of course, safe to assume that a web of personal websites will never be an equivalent substitute for a social network like Twitter. But that’s also not the goal. Personal websites are called personal websites because they are just that: personal. Thus, the primary objective still is to have a place to express ourselves, to explore ourselves, a place that lasts while the daily storms pass by. A place of consideration, and yes, a place of proudly sharing what we do, what we think, and what we care about. A place to contribute your voice and help others. A home on the internet. A place to tell your story.
The former Australia Test opener turned coach provides his wisdom and guidance on honing your batting technique and scoring more runs.
When there is swing or seam your best chance is if you work in straight lines. Make sure you’re not cutting across the ball. Imagine a line from middle stump back to where the bowler lets the ball go and try and get everything to go as much along that line as possible: your feet, your shoulders, your hands, your bat. If you have everything going towards your target you give yourself the best possible chance.
Interesting when thinking about the idea of black swans.
The evangelical church is not the only religious group growing its digital focus.
Despite its potential, collaborative learning is often implemented very poorly in classrooms, leading many teachers to become sceptical about its impact (this author included!). Too often, group work leads to off-topic chatter, slow work output, the embedding of misconceptions and – every teacher’s favourite bugbear – an unhealthy dose of social loafing. (Described by social psychologists, this is the well-known phenomenon that occurs when a person exerts less effort in a group than they would when working individually.)
I have undergone many years of trial-and-error when trying to implement aspects of collaborative learning into my secondary English lessons. I cannot claim to be an expert in the area, but here are my suggestions – which are based, more often than not, on a fair quantity of abject failure!
It is easy to think of Collaborative Problem Solving (CPS) as a highfalutin euphemism for what is commonly known as group work. However, they are not the same. The major difference is that CPS focuses on the skills and attributes people bring, rather than the jobs people do. In a traditional classroom, group work usually involves splitting a task between members in order to do something more efficiently or simply to share responsibilities. These contributions are then usually assessed at the end of the outcome. With CPS, the focus is not so much about product, but what that process can bring to bear.
As well as Pitler and Stone’s emphasis on developing a culture of collaboration.
Annual assessments can be wildly inaccurate — not to mention soul-crushing. Here’s why the ritual, dreaded by managers and the managed alike, falls short, and what might work better.
All too often, Aguinis says, formal performance reviews become a self-serving exercise in politics, not a realistic examination of an employee’s strengths and weaknesses. “Some managers will give biased ratings on purpose,” he says. “I have personally seen a supervisor giving a bad employee a good rating just so that employee could get promoted out of his unit.”
The answer is not to remove reviews, by instead make them more regular, therefore making the feedback more meaningful:
To really understand the value of their employees, Aguinis says, managers should double down on the practice of everyday management. That means checking in on employees every day and giving them real-time feedback on things they’re doing well and areas where they can improve. “When performance is a conversation, when it’s not something that happens just once a year, the measurement becomes very easy and straightforward with no surprises,” he says. He adds that it’s important to gather input from many different people within the system – peers as well as supervisors. “The best source of data is often not the manager,” he says.
This is another interesting post which captures some of theand the challenges of self-determined learning in a .
When I was thinking about running an Zine making workshop at OER19, Catherine Cronin encouraged me to reach out to potential co-collaborators. I’m really glad I followed such sage wisdom. Amy Burvall is one of the most creative educators I know, and while we beavered away on our proposal, I realised that Amy brought a completely fresh perspective on what I thought I knew a little about. In fact, it wasn’t long before Amy had educated me on Zine culture and the many different approaches to making a Zine.