關於 we media wikipedia ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

免費，從來最貴。這是Netflix新紀錄片《The Social Dilemma》主題。全人類，必睇。

社交成癮，就像媽媽的話，聽起來老土過時，風雨過後才發現它的價值。

更何況今次Netflix找來Facebook前業務拓展總監、 Like button設計師、Pinterest前總裁、Google前設計倫理學家及Twitter工程副總裁等才俊一同拆局。這群人，除了都是天才，還有個共通點：他們都禁止孩子用social media。

去片：https://madman-magazine.com/blog/social-dilemma/

因為上癮並不是結果，而是一眾社交媒體的設計原則。

眾所週知，社媒令無數KOLs及品牌受惠，拉近過不少人的距離，在今時今日的香港更成為言論自由所剩無幾的明淨角落。好處一堆，但用戶似乎對社媒的另一面（flip side），還很天真。

例如我們都天真地以為，看哪條片、收聽哪位KOL的偉論，都是自己的選擇。其實，這是YouTube、Facebook替你作出的選擇，你只是接受了它們的推薦。

“You pick a card they want you to pick.”

這是你YouTube feed跟你家書櫃的分別。一個人的書櫃能夠反映他是什麼人，同一道理，卻不能用在你的YouTube channel上。

因為書本是被動的。從你走進書局一刻，拿起哪本書、走哪個方向、看多久，一切都是你的選擇。沒有你想看的書，可以改去第二間、第三間……

當然，書櫃的書，某程度上都是書局為你預先選好。分別在於，書局不會因你的喜好而改變架上的書籍。蘋果和大公報都在左近，揀邊份隨你喜歡；亦可以兩份都唔揀，或者兩份都買。這才是選擇。

而YouTube卻主動幫你預先點好菜，你還以為自己在吃buffet，其實已餵到嘴邊。

更遑論Tik Tok，片接片自動播放，連「接受選擇」的動作都替你省略了，不需動腦，不必知道時日過，坐定定接受餵飼。全球竟有2億人甘願被洗腦，洗得開心。

如此一來，我們自以為的意見，有幾多是己見，有幾多是社媒「說服」我們相信的成見？

片中舉例，同一個搜尋，全人類在Wikipedia上讀到的內容都一樣。但在不同地區用Google搜尋，卻會出現不一樣的結果。同樣，每個Facebook、YouTube帳戶上出現的內容都依靠演算法（algorithm）憑著用戶的喜好tailor-made而成。每個account都變成一個獨立的楚門世界，有著不同版本的事實，而且並不客觀。

大費周章想你所想，目的很簡單，就是把你的注意力留在平台上，越耐越好。越耐，利潤就越高。

「當你用的産品是免費時，你就成為了產品本身。」

紀錄片指，科技巨企都有三個共同目標：1. Engagement （你流連在平台上的時間）2: Growth （帶到幾多朋友入坑）3. Revenue （如何藉此吸引更多廣告商）。

你以為，你的個人資料是最值錢的商品。被拿來賣，拿來trade，你都肯首，因為自覺沒什麼不見得光，對生活又沒太大影響。才不是。

最值錢的，是它們利用這些資料（包括你看的相片，以至你在相片上停留的時間），對你的喜好進行分析，從而不斷優化演算法對你網上行為的prediction，繼而投其所好，不斷向你餵食「他們認為」你會喜歡的資訊，默默改變著你的行為思想，這才是社媒賴以生存的方式。

例如可怕的Notification。此一功能極為進擊，不只為你代勞，更主動提醒你它的選擇。紅點雖小，偏偏叫你忍不住點開；關了熒幕同樣引誘，因為你知道打開手機就可能有新資訊彈出，心癢癢的你總想碰一碰運氣。你根本離不開它。

"That's not by accident. That's a design technique."

而萬惡之源Like button的出現，原本確實只為宣揚愛，片中設計師指。可惜它生於一台賺錢機器上，成為了延長 attention span的手段。被Like帶來的快感太吸引，剛出完一個post就開始構思下一個post，因為人總是渴望被認同。抓住人性的弱點，加以利用、monetise。我們的依賴，是它們的致勝關鍵。

就連WhatsApp上的“typing‘’顯示功能，都為了抓注意力。我們眼中的小把戲，其實背後一番計算，準確捕捉了用家心理。

這種對社會行為以至思想的操控，威力就像上一代的TVB。它不單改變了一代人茶餘飯後的話題、塑造了對佳麗的定義，甚至決定了人們放工後的timetable、飯前飯後的活動。所以在TVB 落廣告幾乎保證有效果。 當年TVB Sales地位之崇高，無可比擬，數，會自動跑過來。就像現在的一眾社媒。

“They sell certainty.”

你會問，難得有人懂你，廣告可以skip，大家win-win，何罪之有？

紀錄片認為，近年越來越嚴重的社會分化、兩極化，由香港的黃藍營，以至美國的民主共和兩黨分歧、black lives matter，社媒都是幕後推手。片中更提到俄羅斯對美國選舉的操控，也與社媒這種運作模式不無關係。

而兩極化現象，正是YouTube用來令用家持續看片的最有效方法。推薦影片功能令YouTube成為最有說服力的平台。

這種導向式內容供應，順著你的喜好而生，漸漸構成你對世界的認知，甚至你的世界。當中有幾多是fake news，有幾多bias，演算法不會知道。正因如此，fake news比真相更具天然優勢，因為假新聞通常比較有趣，更能吸引眼球，提升廣告利潤。所以有人一口咬定地球是平的；有人堅信COVID-19並不存在。

影片強調“There’s no one bad guy”。科技巨頭的初心原是好的。只是在各種經濟誘因驅使下，令這種科技“brings out the worst in society”，而創造者本身卻沒有能力解決。

Mark Zuckerberg曾表示人工智能（AI）能解決fake news問題。但影片並不同意。

所謂人工智能，指的是海量的電腦互相交織而成的一個網絡，無間斷互傳data。但由於結構太複雜，實際上如何運作，每家公司只有一小撮人真正理解。換言之，某程度上，人工智能已經在操控人類。

“They are controlling us, more than we are controlling them.”

而且不知不覺間已對社會構成十分真實的威脅。這是紀錄片希望帶出的訊息。

可惜，全片只提出了問題，並未深入探討解決方法。在片尾粗略提出了幾個抗衡社媒操控的方法：

1：關掉notification
2：不要點擊推薦影片，盡量自行選擇
3：follow跟你持相反意見的人

要完全脱離社交媒體是不可能的。雖然註定被操控，也得盡量保持清醒。你同意與否，Jeff Orlowski的這部《The Social Dilemma》，絕對值得參考。

（《The Social Dilemma》截圖）

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【《金融時報》深度長訪】

今年做過數百外媒訪問，若要說最能反映我思緒和想法的訪問，必然是《金融時報》的這一個，沒有之一。

在排山倒海的訪問裡，這位記者能在短短個半小時裡，刻畫得如此傳神，值得睇。

Joshua Wong plonks himself down on a plastic stool across from me. He is there for barely 10 seconds before he leaps up to greet two former high school classmates in the lunchtime tea house melee. He says hi and bye and then bounds back. Once again I am facing the young man in a black Chinese collared shirt and tan shorts who is proving such a headache for the authorities in Beijing.

So far, it’s been a fairly standard week for Wong. On a break from a globe-trotting, pro-democracy lobbying tour, he was grabbed off the streets of Hong Kong and bundled into a minivan. After being arrested, he appeared on the front pages of the world’s newspapers and was labelled a “traitor” by China’s foreign ministry.

He is very apologetic about being late for lunch.

Little about Wong, the face of Hong Kong’s democracy movement, can be described as ordinary: neither his Nobel Peace Prize nomination, nor his three stints in prison. Five years ago, his face was plastered on the cover of Time magazine; in 2017, he was the subject of a hit Netflix documentary, Joshua: Teenager vs Superpower. And he’s only 23.

We’re sitting inside a Cantonese teahouse in the narrow back streets near Hong Kong’s parliament, where he works for a pro-democracy lawmaker. It’s one of the most socially diverse parts of the city and has been at the heart of five months of unrest, which has turned into a battle for Hong Kong’s future. A few weekends earlier I covered clashes nearby as protesters threw Molotov cocktails at police, who fired back tear gas. Drunk expats looked on, as tourists rushed by dragging suitcases.

The lunch crowd pours into the fast-food joint, milling around as staff set up collapsible tables on the pavement. Construction workers sit side-by-side with men sweating in suits, chopsticks in one hand, phones in the other. I scan the menu: instant noodles with fried egg and luncheon meat, deep fried pork chops, beef brisket with radish. Wong barely glances at it before selecting the hometown fried rice and milk tea, a Hong Kong speciality with British colonial roots, made with black tea and evaporated or condensed milk.

“I always order this,” he beams, “I love this place, it’s the only Cantonese teahouse in the area that does cheap, high-quality milk tea.” I take my cue and settle for the veggie and egg fried rice and a lemon iced tea as the man sitting on the next table reaches over to shake Wong’s hand. Another pats him on the shoulder as he brushes by to pay the bill.

Wong has been a recognisable face in this city since he was 14, when he fought against a proposal from the Hong Kong government to introduce a national education curriculum that would teach that Chinese Communist party rule was “superior” to western-style democracy. The government eventually backed down after more than 100,000 people took to the streets. Two years later, Wong rose to global prominence when he became the poster boy for the Umbrella Movement, in which tens of thousands of students occupied central Hong Kong for 79 days to demand genuine universal suffrage.

That movement ended in failure. Many of its leaders were sent to jail, among them Wong. But the seeds of activism were planted in the generation of Hong Kongers who are now back on the streets, fighting for democracy against the world’s most powerful authoritarian state. The latest turmoil was sparked by a controversial extradition bill but has evolved into demands for true suffrage and a showdown with Beijing over the future of Hong Kong. The unrest in the former British colony, which was handed over to China in 1997, represents the biggest uprising on Chinese soil since the 1989 pro-democracy movement in Beijing. Its climax, of course, was the Tiananmen Square massacre, when hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people were killed.

“We learnt a lot of lessons from the Umbrella Movement: how to deal with conflict between the more moderate and progressive camps, how to be more organic, how to be less hesitant,” says Wong. “Five years ago the pro-democracy camp was far more cautious about seeking international support because they were afraid of pissing off Beijing.”

Wong doesn’t appear to be afraid of irking China. Over the past few months, he has lobbied on behalf of the Hong Kong protesters to governments around the world. In the US, he testified before Congress and urged lawmakers to pass an act in support of the Hong Kong protesters — subsequently approved by the House of Representatives with strong bipartisan support. In Germany, he made headlines when he suggested two baby pandas in the Berlin Zoo be named “Democracy” and “Freedom.” He has been previously barred from entering Malaysia and Thailand due to pressure from Beijing, and a Singaporean social worker was recently convicted and fined for organising an event at which Wong spoke via Skype.

The food arrives almost immediately. I struggle to tell our orders apart. Two mouthfuls into my egg and cabbage fried rice, I regret not ordering the instant noodles with luncheon meat.

In August, a Hong Kong newspaper controlled by the Chinese Communist party published a photo of Julie Eadeh, an American diplomat, meeting pro-democracy student leaders including Wong. The headline accused “foreign forces” of igniting a revolution in Hong Kong. “Beijing says I was trained by the CIA and the US marines and I am a CIA agent. [I find it] quite boring because they have made up these kinds of rumours for seven years [now],” he says, ignoring his incessantly pinging phone.

Another thing that bores him? The media. Although Wong’s messaging is always on point, his appraisal of journalists in response to my questions is piercing and cheeky. “In 15-minute interviews I know journalists just need soundbites that I’ve repeated lots of times before. So I’ll say things like ‘I have no hope [as regards] the regime but I have hope towards the people.’ Then the journalists will say ‘oh that’s so impressive!’ And I’ll say ‘yes, I’m a poet.’ ”

And what about this choice of restaurant? “Well, I knew I couldn’t pick a five-star hotel, even though the Financial Times is paying and I know you can afford it,” he says grinning. “It’s better to do this kind of interview in a Hong Kong-style restaurant. This is the place that I conducted my first interview after I left prison.” Wong has spent around 120 days in prison in total, including on charges of unlawful assembly.

“My fellow prisoners would tell me about how they joined the Umbrella Movement and how they agreed with our beliefs. I think prisoners are more aware of the importance of human rights,” he says, adding that even the prison wardens would share with him how they had joined protests.

“Even the triad members in prison support democracy. They complain how the tax on cigarettes is extremely high and the tax on red wine is extremely low; it just shows how the upper-class elite lives here,” he says, as a waiter strains to hear our conversation. Wong was most recently released from jail in June, the day after the largest protests in the history of Hong Kong, when an estimated 2m people — more than a quarter of the territory’s 7.5m population — took to the streets.

Raised in a deeply religious family, he used to travel to mainland China every two years with his family and church literally to spread the gospel. As with many Hong Kong Chinese who trace their roots to the mainland, he doesn’t know where his ancestral village is. His lasting memory of his trips across the border is of dirty toilets, he tells me, mid-bite. He turned to activism when he realised praying didn’t help much.

“The gift from God is to have independence of mind and critical thinking; to have our own will and to make our own personal judgments. I don’t link my religious beliefs with my political judgments. Even Carrie Lam is Catholic,” he trails off, in a reference to Hong Kong’s leader. Lam has the lowest approval rating of any chief executive in the history of the city, thanks to her botched handling of the crisis.

I ask whether Wong’s father, who is also involved in social activism, has been a big influence. Wrong question.

“The western media loves to frame Joshua Wong joining the fight because of reading the books of Nelson Mandela or Martin Luther King or because of how my parents raised me. In reality, I joined street activism not because of anyone book I read. Why do journalists always assume anyone who strives for a better society has a role model?” He glances down at his pinging phone and draws a breath, before continuing. “Can you really describe my dad as an activist? I support LGBTQ rights,” he says, with a fist pump. His father, Roger Wong, is a well-known anti-gay rights campaigner in Hong Kong.

I notice he has put down his spoon, with half a plate of fried rice untouched. I decide it would be a good idea to redirect our conversation by bonding over phone addictions. Wong, renowned for his laser focus and determination, replies to my emails and messages at all hours and has been described by his friends as “a robot.”

He scrolls through his Gmail, his inbox filled with unread emails, showing me how he categorises interview requests with country tags. His life is almost solely dedicated to activism. “My friends and I used to go to watch movies and play laser tag but now of course we don’t have time to play any more: we face real bullets every weekend.”

The protests — which have seen more than 3,300 people arrested — have been largely leaderless. “Do you ever question your relevance to the movement?” I venture, mid-spoonful of congealed fried rice.

“Never,” he replies with his mouth full. “We have a lot of facilitators in this movement and I’m one of them . . . it’s just like Wikipedia. You don’t know who the contributors are behind a Wikipedia page but you know there’s a lot of collaboration and crowdsourcing. Instead of just having a top-down command, we now have a bottom-up command hub which has allowed the movement to last far longer than Umbrella.

“With greater power comes greater responsibility, so the question is how, through my role, can I express the voices of the frontliners, of the street activism? For example, I defended the action of storming into the Legislative Council on July 1. I know I didn’t storm in myself . . . ” His phone pings twice. Finally he succumbs.

After tapping away for about 30 seconds, Wong launches back into our conversation, sounding genuinely sorry that he wasn’t there on the night when protesters destroyed symbols of the Chinese Communist party and briefly occupied the chamber.

“My job is to be the middleman to express, evaluate and reveal what is going on in the Hong Kong protests when the movement is about being faceless,” he says, adding that his Twitter storm of 29 tweets explaining the July 1 occupation reached at least four million people. I admit that I am overcome with exhaustion just scanning his Twitter account, which has more than 400,000 followers. “Well, that thread was actually written by Jeffrey Ngo from Demosisto,” he say, referring to the political activism group that he heads.

A network of Hong Kong activists studying abroad helps fuel his relentless public persona on social media and in the opinion pages of international newspapers. Within a week of his most recent arrest, he had published op-eds in The Economist, The New York Times, Quartz and the Apple Daily.

I wonder out loud if he ever feels overwhelmed at taking on the Chinese Communist party, a task daunting even for some of the world’s most formidable governments and companies. He peers at me over his wire-framed glasses. “It’s our responsibility; if we don’t do it, who will? At least we are not in Xinjiang or Tibet; we are in Hong Kong,” he says, referring to two regions on Chinese soil on the frontline of Beijing’s drive to develop a high-tech surveillance state. In Xinjiang, at least one million people are being held in internment camps. “Even though we’re directly under the rule of Beijing, we have a layer of protection because we’re recognised as a global city so [Beijing] is more hesitant to act.”

I hear the sound of the wok firing up in the kitchen and ask him the question on everyone’s minds in Hong Kong: what happens next? Like many people who are closely following the extraordinary situation in Hong Kong, he is hesitant to make firm predictions.

“Lots of think-tanks around the world say ‘Oh, we’re China experts. We’re born in western countries but we know how to read Chinese so we’re familiar with Chinese politics.’ They predicted the Communist party would collapse after the Tiananmen Square massacre and they’ve kept predicting this over the past three decades but hey, now it’s 2019 and we’re still under the rule of Beijing, ha ha,” he grins.

While we are prophesying, does Wong ever think he might become chief executive one day? “No local journalist in Hong Kong would really ask this question,” he admonishes. As our lunch has progressed, he has become bolder in dissecting my interview technique. The territory’s chief executive is currently selected by a group of 1,200, mostly Beijing loyalists, and he doubts the Chinese Communist party would ever allow him to run. A few weeks after we meet he announces his candidacy in the upcoming district council elections. He was eventually the only candidate disqualified from running — an order that, after our lunch, he tweeted had come from Beijing and was “clearly politically driven”.

We turn to the more ordinary stuff of 23-year-olds’ lives, as Wong slurps the remainder of his milk tea. “Before being jailed, the thing I was most worried about was that I wouldn’t be able to watch Avengers: Endgame,” he says.

“Luckily, it came out around early May so I watched it two weeks before I was locked up in prison.” He has already quoted Spider-Man twice during our lunch. I am unsurprised when Wong picks him as his favourite character.

“I think he’s more . . . ” He pauses, one of the few times in the interview. “Compared to having an unlimited superpower or unlimited power or unlimited talent just like Superman, I think Spider-Man is more human.” With that, our friendly neighbourhood activist dashes off to his next interview.