This isn't some standard polemic about "those stupid walled-garden networks are bad!" I know that Facebook and Twitter and Pinterest and LinkedIn and the rest are great sites, and they give their users a lot of value. They're amazing achievements, from a pure software perspective. But they're based on a few assumptions that aren't necessarily correct. The primary fallacy that underpins many of their mistakes is that user flexibility and control necessarily lead to a user experience complexity that hurts growth. And the second, more grave fallacy, is the thinking that exerting extreme control over users is the best way to maximize the profitability and sustainability of their networks.

The first step to disabusing them of this notion is for the people creating the next generation of social applications to learn a little bit of history, to know your shit, whether that's about Twitter's business model or Google's social features or anything else. We have to know what's been tried and failed, what good ideas were simply ahead of their time, and what opportunities have been lost in the current generation of dominant social networks.

Printed photos, which once came in “wallet size,” have been replaced by an endless roll of snapshots on my phone. Business cards, one of the more archaic forms of communication from the last few decades, now exist as digital rap sheets that can be shared with a click or a bump.

As for cash, I rarely touch the stuff anymore. Most of the time I pay for things — lunch, gas, clothes — with a single debit card. Increasingly, there are also opportunities to skip plastic cards. At Starbucks, I often pay with my smartphone using the official Starbucks app. Other cafes and small restaurants allow people to pay with Square. You simply say your name at a register and voilá, transaction complete.

But wait, what did I do with all of the other cardlike things, like my gym membership I.D., discount cards, insurance cards and coupons? I simply took digital pictures of them, which I keep in a photos folder on my smartphone that is easily accessible. Many stores have apps for their customer cards, and insurance companies have apps that substitute for paper identification.

Then I think you would still have to conclude that he lacks perspective, because he simply doesn't go far enough. His main concern, which he backs up with the quacking noises words of Techdirt's good friend Sherry Turkle, is that social media is causing people to build their identities based on what people think of them rather than magically conjuring up an identity from within—and that this is a tragedy for humanity:

But this shift to a Facebook world of incessant "friending," Professor Turkle correctly warns us, is a "seductive fantasy" which is weakening us both as individuals and as a society. The problem, she explains, is that a "capacity for solitude is what nurtures great relationships." But in today's always-on social media world, our solitude has been replaced by incessant online updates, which both weaken our sense of self and our ability to create genuine friendships.

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What it means, of course, is that we are creating a world in which our sense of identity, of who we actually are, is defined by what others think of us. Social media's ubiquity means that we are losing that most precious of human things -- our sense of self . Our devices are always on; our "Timeline" (Facebook's product which greedily attempts to capture our entire life narrative) is there for everyone to see; we are living in public on a radically transparent global network that, by 2020, will be fed by 50 billion intelligent devices carried by the majority of people on the planet.

This is disappointingly short-sighted. How could Keen reach this conclusion without noticing that the telephone also created more intercommunication and immediacy within communities, and thus should be rejected as well? Or that earlier still, international postage did us a great disservice by inundating our identities with annoying perspectives from around the world? If I am to follow someone backwards into this brave old world of isolation, I want a true leader who knows how to go big or go home (and "home" should be like, a cave, or something). In fact, I can't think of a single instant in the history of human civilization where members of a community have not largely defined their identity and value based on the standards and demands of that community. I'm beginning to suspect that farming may be to blame—or maybe cave painting? Frankly I'm not sure why we spend so much time coming up with words to express our thoughts and get feedback from others, violating the sanctity of our identities by tempering them with a variety of viewpoints, when all we really need are hunting commands. So why isn't Keen championing that cause?

Or maybe it's not history Keen is lacking—maybe it's philosophy. After all, there's a simple solution to his problem: solipsism. Wasn't it Descartes' first principle that the self is the only thing one can be sure exists? And someone who hates progress so much should never need more than one principle. If we just accept that nobody else is real, then it won't bother us when they tweet photos of their breakfast anymore. Ah, but I guess then we wouldn't get the other benefits Keen mentions:

But remember, the less we publicly announce about ourselves, the more mysterious and thus the more interesting our private selves become.

Wait, now I'm confused. I thought the whole idea was to be less narcissistic, and not base our identities on the opinions of others. That sure sounds like a high-school-level attempt to cultivate a public identity to me, but since I've now decided that neither Keen nor anyone reading this actually exists, I'll let it pass and focus on building my self-esteem by beating myself at Words With Friends, which is way more fun when you renounce your friends. Still, I expect more from figments of my imagination, and I hope Keen will realize that he's only scratched the surface of the vile threat to our humanity that "community" represents.

Fifty years ago, President Eisenhower was worried enough to declare that "We must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex." No need to worry anymore. That game (pardon the pun) is over: Welcome to the entertainment-industrial complex.

Consider the Apple iPhone, often touted as the tech symbol of our era. It's actually more evolutionary than revolutionary. Much of its technology—color LCD displays, low power usage, precision manufacturing--was perfected for hand-held videogames like the Nintendo DS and Sony PSP, which sold in the tens of millions. Think about how much more productively workers are now able to communicate because of some silly games.

Videogames will influence how next-gen workers interact with each other. Call of Duty, a military simulation game, has a mode that allows players to cooperate from remote locations. In World of Warcraft, players form guilds to collaborate, using real-time texting and talking, to navigate worlds presented in high-resolution graphics. Sure, they have funky weapons and are killing Orcs and Trolls and Dwarves, but you don't have to be a gamer to see how this technology is going to find its way into corporate America. Within the next few years, this is how traders or marketers or DNA hunters will work together.

For one, capital formation. Governments had the unique capacity to raise (read: tax) the enormous capital needed to fund state-of-the-art projects. But a fully functioning stock market can raise billions for productive commercial applications, bypassing the military connection. Hate Wall Street all you want, but it's now better than wars at driving progress.

Second, displacing the military is about high sales volume. Often that means lower costs. The $300 Roomba automatic vacuum, which the company iRobot says it has sold to five million customers, helps drive down the cost of the Army's robotic bomb removers. Volume is especially good at spurring the creation of new applications. Hardware is nothing without software and apps. Caffeine-fueled coders won't even think about writing apps unless there are millions, if not tens of millions, of potential customers.

"I'm not even slightly interested in saving the industry."

While markets have their flaws, over the long run they are good at executing these technological transformations.... Reports of the death of book publishing, like those of music publishing and newspaper publishing, are greatly exaggerated. Business models will change, companies will come and go, and people will lose their jobs. But at the end of the process, there will be fewer people who will be paid higher incomes to produce a wider array of products at lower prices. There's a word for that -- progress -- and it's exciting to see it unfold right in front of us.

I would suggest another way to look at the effects of technology on our collective intelligence. Take the intellectual values that are timeless and indisputable: objectivity, truth, factual discovery, soundness of argument, insight, explanatory depth, openness to challenging ideas, scrutiny of received dogma, overturning of myth and superstition. Now ask, are new technologies enhancing or undermining those values? And as you answer, take care to judge the old and new eras objectively, rather than giving a free pass to whatever you got used to when you were in your 20s.

One way to attain this objectivity is to run the clock backwards and imagine that old technologies are new and vice-versa. Suppose someone announced: "Here is a development that will replace the way you've been doing things. From now on, you won't be able to use Wikipedia. Instead you'll use an invention called The Encyclopedia Britannica. You pay several thousand dollars for a shelf-groaning collection of hard copies whose articles are restricted to academic topics, commissioned by a small committee, written by a single author, searchable only by their titles, and never change until you throw the entire set and buy new ones." Would anyone argue that this scenario would make us collectively smarter?

The Congress shall have Power... To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries;

Here as elsewhere, acquiescence to long-accepted practices has dulled us to the Constitution's bracingly straightforward words. We should read them anew and reflect that the Founding generation did not evidently think that granting statutory privileges to such purely artistic creations as romantic operas or pretty pictures would promote the progress of both science and the useful arts. Furthermore, most citizens today would, if presented with the Constitution's plain language rather than the convoluted arguments of professional jurisprudes, probably say the same thing about pop songs, blockbuster movies, and the like. That is certainly not to say that purely expressive works lack value. They may very well promote such important goals as beauty, truth, and simple amusement. The Constitution requires that copyright promote something else, however--"the Progress of Science and useful Arts"--and a great many works now covered by copyright cannot plausibly claim to do both.

On the part of rich countries there is excessive zeal for protecting knowledge through an unduly rigid assertion of the right to intellectual property, especially in the field of health care

"My guess is that the improvement in technology available to the consumer from 1984 to 1996 is more significant than the improvement from 1996 to 2008. (Anyone remember using a BBS?) And the improvements on the cell phone side of the business seem to come mostly on the manufactured hand-unit, which was never regulated because it isn't a natural monopoly."

More broadly, it's just silly to claim that progress in the telecom industry has slowed over the last 12 years. Between 1984 and 1996, typical home online speeds increased from 1200 bps to 28.8 kbps, an impressive 24-fold improvement. By 2008, typical internet speeds were upwards of 3 mbps, an even more impressive 100-fold improvement. And 28.8 was the fastest you could go in 1996 without paying exorbitant charges for a dedicated data line. In contrast, some broadband providers are offering speeds as high as 20 mbps—a 700-fold improvement—for under $70/month. Now, I don't think improvements in the telecom market have been primarily due to the 1996 Telecom Act (which wasn't especially deregulatory anyway). Primarily, I think the progress was due to two things: cable companies getting into the broadband and phone markets (which which has created pressures for faster DSL and fiber roll-outs), and the government auctioning off spectrum to increase competition in the wireless market (which has provided additional competition for the Baby Bells' phone business). The former was likely sped along by some provisions of the 1996 Telecom Act, although the the "local loop unbundling" fiasco may have stunted development of DSL service during the same period. On the other hand, spectrum auctions were first authorized by Congress in 1993, so the latter can't be credited to the Telecom Act.

The bottom line, though, is that deregulation is most successful when it's designed to increase competition. A well-designed deregulatory scheme will enhance competition by removing barriers to entry and letting new firms enter the market. Poorly-designed "deregulation" will leave barriers to entry in place and simply relax regulations that limit the monopolist's ability to extract monopoly rents. There was some of each in the 1996 Telecom Act, but either way it's clear that progress continued at a brisk clip after 1996, and increased competition was a big part of that. If Congress wants that progress to accelerate over the next decade, it should look for ways to further increase competition in the telecom industry, not try to turn back the clock to the 1980s.