As you can imagine, this article provoked a flood of outraged, incendiary, irrational commentary from conservative climate change deniers.

Indeed, many climate deniers say their inability to face the facts of human-induced climate change stems from the most enlightened spirit of scientific rigour and critical thinking. As commenter ‘Unconvinced’ puts it:

You forgot the most important attributes of conservatives – the ability to think for themselves, and self-determination. Most of us will try to look at the evidence for ourselves not just blindly follow someone claiming authority.

That’s right folks, we should tip our hats and thank our lucky stars for contrarian free-thinkers like Unconvinced who bravely stand against the tide of public opinion and overwhelming evidence in the pursuit of truth, justice, Australia and cheap electricity.

Isn’t it simply breathtaking how many of these  über-intelligent experts in assessing scientific evidence choose to grace us with their wisdom in online comments? And how they all say exactly the same thing in exactly the same way, almost as though they’re reading from the same few sources?

You really have to marvel at the irony in the way they decry those who believe in climate change science as gullible sheep, even as they uncritically put their faith in unscientific climate-denier propaganda.

As Bernard Keane observes in Crikey:

Scepticism connotes a healthy willingness to be convinced if the evidence is sufficient, whereas of course no amount of evidence will ever convince critics of climate science, even as the evidence mounts and the numbers remorselessly add up to a warming planet. They’ll explain them away, make up their own data, reformat their graphs and cherrypick whatever data or explanations they can find — exactly as AIDS denialists and genocide denialists do.

Co-opting the language of scientific scepticism or contrarianism isn’t going to cut through the stench of those steaming piles of irony they’re trying to bury us under.

1. Hard drive

What a lot of people think it means: The box part of a desktop computer.

What it really means: A smaller component inside the box that is used to store data permanently.

Why people get it wrong: If the box part of the computer has an official name, it is the ‘system unit’. You can see why it doesn’t grab anyone. Whereas calling the thing a ‘hard drive’ sounds about right to anybody who doesn’t know what’s actually inside one.

2. Screen saver

What a lot of people think it means: The image you put on the background of your computer’s virtual desktop.

What it really means: A piece of software that puts moving images or animation on your screen after you haven’t been using your computer for a while.

If computer monitors are left for too long with the same image or text in the same place, they can suffer ‘phosphor burn’. The light-emitting phosphor compounds in screens (especially old-fashioned monochromatic cathode ray tube screens) lose their brightness through use. If a screen always displays the same text in the same spot, that area will eventually become burnt in, leaving a faded ‘ghost’ image of that text.

Screen savers were designed to prevent this by placing an always-moving image on the screen.

Why people get it wrong: Aside from falling into the same category of ‘stuff you can put on your computer screen to personalise it’, these two things don’t have a lot in common. Modern LCD screens don’t suffer from phosphor burn (although plasma and OLED screens do), so actual screen savers aren’t particularly popular anymore. It’s all a bit of a mystery.

OK, so those are my two. What other tech malapropisms boil your blood?

I can’t argue with the ‘bad idea’ part, but the ‘everyone’ part is simply delusional. Yet many quite sensible people I speak to are genuinely bewildered that the filter is almost completely ignored by the mainstream media and barely registers on the radar of political debate.

(To be fair, the mainstream media’s reporting of internet censorship has been woeful and a prime example of what Jay Rosen calls “he said, she said journalism“, where a reporter simply records the opinions of opposing sides of an issue without subjecting their claims to any analysis. Most recently, on last night’s Q&A, Tony Jones only gave Small Business Minister Craig Emerson enough time to claim the government should filter all pornography that children shouldn’t see before shutting down the topic, preventing any debate.)

This is the kind of conversation I’m talking about:

renailemay: So let me get this straight. No #1 election issue on Twitter is the filter. And yet no questions from the floor during #ausvotes debate

vealmince: @renailemay Do you really not understand? Twitter is NOT the Australian public. It’s a tiny fraction of mostly like-minded people. #ausvotes

renailemay: @vealmince do you really not understand? Twitter is the Australian public. We live in Australia and we vote. Stop telling me I’m a minority

vealmince: @renailemay You and your 1000 mates. Either it’s not enough people, or you’re not organised enough to make a political difference.

Late last year, I argued that filter opponents were failing to cut through because they spent too much time agreeing with each other, debating nomenclature and deploying logic and sarcasm, rather than actual political lobbying, to sway the discussion in their favour.

But I think another factor at work is the inability of many in the twittersphere to see outside their small and mostly like-minded online social circle. This groupthink has led many online news outlets to publish polls finding that 95% or more of their readers were against an internet filter, unaware of or deliberately ignoring the massive selection bias inherent in asking that question to that audience.

The harsh reality is, even if everyone on Twitter thought and voted the same way, it would make no difference.

There are 13.9 million registered voters in Australia. There are 1.2 million Twitter accounts, of which no more than half could be active users who are eligible to vote. That makes 600,000 or about 4% of registered voters. It’s not a huge number, but 4% could gain a Senate seat, depending on how preferences fell, or swing the whole election.

Nice try. But of course, not all Twitter users would change their votes.

If Twitter is a representative sample of the Australian population (there are reasons to argue why it’s not), according to the latest polls, its users are split 50:50 on the two-party preferred vote. That means even if you could persuade every active Twitter user in Australia to vote for one party, it would only deliver a 2% swing.

But of course, you couldn’t get them all to vote the same way. Even though the filter is bad, some might argue that on the balance of all its policies, Labor is the less worse choice. Some of them might not care about the filter or, believe it or not, actually support it. (OMG, nowai!)

Still, a swing of less than 2% could be an election winner if Twitter users were disproportionately located in marginal seats such as western Sydney and the Brisbane suburbs. Whereas if a large number of Twitter users lived in safe seats, such as those in inner-city Melbourne and Sydney, even a 4% swing would make no difference.

Which do you think is more likely?

The impotent rage many Twits feel about the political-media establishment’s nonchalant treatment of the censorship issue is palpable. But it’s merely a symptom of the increasing influence of numbers men, marketing wonks and political strategists who use business intelligence technology to slice-and-dice, drill-down focus on winning a dozen or so marginal seats. If the issue that arouses your passion is not one that boils the blood of the residents of those seats, you’re irrelevant to the political process.

Viva democracy.

It’s not always done well.

For instance, lately I have been receiving emails, about one a day, along the following lines:

Hi
It`s Rosalyn again. Will you ever contact me?
I made those nude pictures especially for you.

Phew, state-of-the-art social engineering there! The next day it was Jessie, not Rosalyn, but the message was the same.

Since this approach clearly hasn’t worked with me, the spammers thought they’d try a different approach.

Hi
It`s Cleveland again. Will you ever contact me?

Genius!

Which would you rather have in your home: Eddie McGuire or a steaming pile of poo?

The results were emphatic:

• Eddie McGuire: 2 votes (3%)
• Steaming pile of poo: 61 votes (97%)

While this was a terribly entertaining result, I did it to point out some of the problems with the many, many survey stories we see in the media.

If a journalist received a media release with these survey results in it, would he or she carefully scrutinise the details? Or write an amusing story to fill a gap in the news section? After all, nobody likes Eddie McGuire.

But a careful examination would reveal a large number of flaws in my technique.

Sample size

How many people did the survey interview? Is this a representative sample of the population the study claims to represent?

In this case, there were 63 respondents, which is definitely not enough to gain a valid idea of the opinions of all 22 million Australians. For a population of that size, you would need hundreds or thousands of votes to be statistically valid. Even then, there would be a large margin of error (ie, the true result could be 5% higher or lower than the one in the survey).

Avoiding duplication

How rigorous was the survey? Did it take any efforts to ensure people weren’t counted twice, such as deduplicating data? In the case of an online survey, did it use cookies or prevent people from voting from the same IP address?

My survey was not at all rigorous. I allowed people to vote multiple times if they wanted. I voted three times. If I were writing up a media release about my survey, I wouldn’t mention this, or I’d put it in tiny print at the bottom. No one would check.

Selection bias

Were the people who responded to the survey from a reasonable and broad cross-section of society or from a particular group? Would this affect their likelihood of voting one way or another?

My survey had 63 respondents, but who were they and how were they selected? In this case, I posted the survey on Twitter and Facebook. A couple of people retweeted it. Which means the respondents were:

• Regular internet users
• (Mostly) people I know

Would these factors make them more keen on poo? Or less likely to be fans of Eddie McGuire? Especially given the timing of the survey, after Eddie made homophobic comments about American figure skater.

A good example of selection bias is the recent, widely reported survey on ISP-whinge community site Whirlpool which found that 92% of its members were against mandatory ISP filtering. But 32.5% of respondents said they worked in IT. 70.9% were aged under 40. 72.1% said they were technical ‘gurus’ or ‘power users’.

So, the fact that 92% of the people most likely to oppose internet censorship were against internet censorship was hardly surprising. But it would be a giant leap to say this figure could translate to the broader Australian population.

Leading language

Did the language of the question favour one result over another? Why did the survey ask that particular question?

There is a definite art to choosing and framing survey questions. Asking the right question – or often not asking the wrong one – is a great way to get the answer you want.

I was quite deliberate in my choice of words, asking people which they would rather have in their homes. Not, for instance, which they would rather watch on TV. My aim was to make people contemplate the idea of having a steaming (smelly) pile of poo in their houses, which I thought would swing a few votes Eddie’s way.

Clearly I underestimated how much people disliked Eddie.

Manipulation

When people took the survey, how were they directed to the question? Did the surveyors couch it with a preamble or introduction that might sway the respondents one way or the other?

In directing people to the survey, I started out just tweeting the question but gradually became more manipulative.

• Which would you rather have in your home: Eddie McGuire or a steaming pile of poo?
• Disturbingly, a steaming pile of poo is outpolling Eddie McGuire 7 votes to 0. Can this be true? Have your say.
• I really thought at least one person would prefer Eddie McGuire to a steaming pile of poo. Do you?

Is it a coincidence that people only started voting for Eddie after I sent the third tweet?

Some thoughts for journos

Survey stories are great fun. They make for great headlines: a number, then a provocative or contentious topic. What’s more they give these matters of opinion or controversy a pseudo-scientific rigour.

But it’s fair to say of nearly all the survey press releases you receive that:

• The organisation paying for the survey has a very strong interest in the result being a particular way
• The organisation conducting the survey is aware of this interest (or is the same organisation that commissioned the survey)
• Surprise surprise, the survey results turn out the way the commissioning organisation wanted them to.

Journalists who reprint media releases verbatim, or rewrite them with no additional research, are often subjected to scathing criticism from their peers.

But journos who publish the results of obviously biased and flawed surveys without any critical analysis usually seem to get away with it. It’s time we got a lot smarter.

This gives me an opportunity (and audience) to rant about trends in modern English communication that piss me off. And lately, two words in particular have made my shit list:

1. Via

In recent years it has become popular in Australia to say, for instance, “I received the documents via email”. This is a habit we appear to have picked up from our American cousins, who never use a simple word when an ostentatious one can be utilised. (For instance, a person we call an anaesthetist, they call an anaesthesiologist, which is longer and fancier sounding, and also stupid; the doctor in question does not study the science of pain relief, he or she gives you pain killers).

Anyone who has visited Italy will realise that ‘via’ comes from the Latin word for ‘road’. In English, the OED defines it as:

1 travelling through (a place) en route to a destination. 2 by way of; through. 3 by means of.

If you substitute definitions 1 or 2 of ‘via’ into the sentence “I received the documents via email”, it makes no sense at all. And why would you say “I received the documents by means of email”, when you could just as easily say “I received the documents by email”? This way you save a whole letter and avoid sounding pretentious. I call that a win-win.

2. With

I have noticed it’s quite popular to construct sentences in the form of “With [some sort of trend happening], [some consequence of this trend can be observed].”

It is hard to put in words exactly what is wrong with structuring sentences this way, aside from a personal dislike. This construction is overused and often leads to overlong, overly complicated sentences. Also it is a weak way of showing causation; I always prefer to say “[Something is happening] as a result of/because of/due to [some trend]“. But that’s just me.

All the while, LinkedIn sat around gradually building momentum without any of the fanfare or media hype. Recruiters loved it, if only for its ability to fill quotas on candidate lists. But the developers also pulled in a few ideas from here and there – groups, events, marketing, status updates – OK, they nicked it all from Facebook and Twitter.

As a result, people looking to network for business – not to share pictures of kids and cats – have been coming back to LinkedIn and thinking, ‘Hey, this is pretty good!’ And LinkedIn gave them somewhere to put all their relevant career and skills information, which is a lot harder to do on Twitter.

Last week I hosted an online seminar with Karen Moloney from Get Me Learning Resources and Faye Hollands from Outshine Consulting. Karen took us through the nuts and bolts of promoting yourself and your business while Faye told us how she had used and benefited from it. And as usual, there were heaps of cracking questions from the audience.

If you’re dead keen to find out more, you can read Karen’s helpful handout notes or watch a recording of the webinar (though you will have to fill in your details to get it).

Some very clever online businesses have sprung up based on this premise, making it easier for men to find clothes they want without having to go through an embarrassing ordeal.

I’m not like that, generally. Over the years I’ve found a few good shops and clothing labels that usually have stuff I like that fits me, where they don’t have crappy dance music at eardrum-bursting volume and where the staff are helpful and unpretentious.

Most of the time.

Not so this weekend, though, when I visited a very large department store in the CBD, renowned for its quality products and customer service.

Me: This is a nice shirt. Do you have one in my size?

Fashion retail person #1: (Flips through rack) No.

Me: Yes, I already looked there, that’s why I asked you. (Waits for fashion retail person to make helpful suggestion.)

Fashion retail person #1: (Starts sorting clothes hangers.)

In case you’re wondering, yes, at this point I checked if I could buy it online. The manufacturer had very pretty website that took 10 minutes to load on the iPhone (Yay Vodafone!) and, of course, no ecommerce capability. So, half an hour of fruitless shirt shopping later, I was back where I started, with a different person.

Me: This is a nice shirt. Could you please check if you have it in my size?

Fashion retail person #2: Yes, but I’m pretty sure all the stock we have is on the rack. I’ll check. (Goes out back)

Me: Well?

Fashion retail person #2: No.

Me: That’s a pity. Do any of your other stores have it in my size?

Fashion retail person #2: Let me see. (Twiddles computer) Yes, Chatswood. Can you get to Chatswood?

Me: It is not convenient. Can the Chatswood store send it here?

Fashion retail person #2: No. (Complicated explanation, I didn’t really pay attention after ‘no’.)

Me: Alright, I will take some time out of my work day to pick it up from Chatswood tomorrow, but only if they put it away so someone else doesn’t buy it before I get there.

Fashion retail person #2: (Spends 15 minutes on phone trying to find person in Chatswood store) I spoke to Alex, he said he’ll put it aside, but you have to get it tomorrow.

Me: OK.

The next day, in Chatswood…

Me: I had a shirt put away yesterday. Could you get it for me?

Fashion retail person #3: Hmm… I can’t find it. Was it a BRAND A shirt?

Me: No, it was BRAND B.

Fashion retail person #3: Oh! You need to go over to the BRAND C counter!

Me: (Goes to next counter) I had a shirt put away yesterday. Could you get it for me?

Fashion retail person #4: I can’t find it anywhere. Who put it away for you?

Me: I think his name was Alex.

Fashion retail person #4: Oh, ALEX. It doesn’t look like he put it away.

Me: (Speaking in the spirit of Homer Simpson trying not to swear, “Oh, fudge. That’s . . . broken. Fiddle dee dee. That will require a tetanus shot.” ) That is . . . unfortunate. I can see it over there on the shelf. Perhaps there’s still one in my size.

Fashion retail person #4: Here’s one.

Me: This has “XL” written in biro on the cardboard label but “L” on the shirt label. Are you sure it’s XL?

Fashion retail person #4: Oh yes, they found it was the wrong size and it’s really XL.

Me: Wouldn’t I better off getting this one over here that says “XL” on both labels?

Fashion retail person #4: Sure, if you like.

This is the hardest I have ever had to work to buy something, other than a car or property. Can anyone spot the dozen or so places along the way where the retailer made it harder for me to buy the shirt than it needed to be? And was it really such a nice shirt that it was worth all the aggro to get it?

How do businesses survive, treating customers with contempt? Is it only because all their competitors do the same? Surely there must be a huge opportunity for shops that sell clothes and help their customers buy them!

Sure, it’s one way to attract a lot of attention to an otherwise dull job ad, but everyone from female job hunters to company management was not impressed. The company and police are looking into it.

In Melbourne’s western suburbs a transport company employee was killed after a server fell on him while it was being unloaded from a truck. He reportedly saw the 200kg fridge-sized machine coming loose from a forklift and decided he would try to save it.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone put their body on the line to try and save an expensive piece of gear. With photographers, for instance, there’s a strong instinct to save the camera even while risking their own health, or body parts. But no matter how expensive the gadget, chances are a limb – or a life – are much harder to replace.

This could lead me to believe the majority of Australians are as passionate about internet censorship as me and my friends. But then I remember that most of my friends are university educated, left-leaning types who work in journalism or the IT industry.

This same selection bias is at work in the online community, particularly on Twitter. The sort of people who use Twitter, who blog, who read the IT media are precisely the sort of people who would oppose internet censorship.

This has led many people to believe if they make enough noise about it online, the Government will drop the filter. Unfortunately, this greatly overestimates the importance and influence of Twitter and social media generally when it comes to real-world politics.

Even an infinite number of angry posts on Twitter, sarcastic blog posts and articles in the IT press would still have no effect on Government policy. Politicians only care about who can deliver them blocs of votes in important electorates.

Online fame is fleeting, but mine was the top article on ABC's The Drum for a little while

As I argue on ABC’s The Drum blog, so far the Christian lobby – which is for the filter – is doing this a lot better than the disparate anti-filter coalition.

This is not to say the anti-censorship campaign is doomed. However, it needs to focus less on preaching to the choir and more on real-life, professional political lobbying.

It’s a big ask, particularly because many of the anti-censorship groups have little experience in direct political action. But it must be done if we are to convince the Government of the immense folly and dire (supposedly) unintended consequences of its current plans.