Culture, language confront the almighty algorithm

While standing over our almost-ready grilled-cheese sandwiches in these dying days of the summer break, I play an episode of the podcast 99% Invisible, an American production that dives deep into the hidden designs of everyday living and the “why” and “how” of the systems we live among.

The episode caught my eye because of the big maple leaf in the accompanying image. Beyond the astonishment that our country provides grants and incentives for artists was a discussion of the MAPL test: the metric by which a piece of music is deemed Canadian enough to be included in our Canadian content regulations.

In order to pass the MAPL test, a recording must achieve two of the following: First, was the music composed entirely by a Canadian? Second, is the performing artist a Canadian? Third, was the performance recorded in Canada? And finally, were the lyrics written by a Canadian? The podcast discussion continues in predictably American fashion: how quaint we are, how obscure our tastes in music and how famous a Canadian musician can be without even disturbing the radio waves south of the border.

For all its problems, loopholes and criticism, this regulation of Canadian radio content, or CanCon, has been successful in promoting Canadian music and weaving a healthier cultural “fabric.” It’s no wonder, then, that the issue of “discoverability” of French-language content on American streaming sites was part of the deal-breaking suggestions during recent Canada-U.S. trade talks. CanCon, in the modern era of siloed non-Canadian streaming services, is losing its power to influence the listening (and viewing) habits of Canadians, as more and more of our digital lives are dictated by U.S. commerce.

This brings to mind the overwhelming dominance of American algorithm-controlled communication and social media discourse force-fed to us daily. I say force-fed because we are no longer in control of what we see or hear, nor what we don’t see or hear. The obvious and immediately relevant example is the barring of Canadian news on Meta platforms, but the communication takeover is much more insidious and far-reaching.

Meta and X (formerly Twitter) removed many of the guardrails protecting the public from hate speech and misinformation, resulting in proliferation of AI-created nonsense and bot-certified conspiracy claims. The information that appears in one’s news feed is chosen for engagement, rage, interaction, influence, and promotion of the views and needs of the company for which they are produced. Increasingly, these platforms are akin to a candy buffet: everything we like, displayed for maximum desire and slowly making us sick.

As more of what we see online plunges toward the base compulsions of humanity, our views of what everyone else is thinking shift, as well. I was in Chicago last year for a conference, during which my fellow researchers kept repeating how sorry they were and that “that’s not really us, that’s not who we are,” when it comes to the U.S.’s slide into poisonous and divisive politics. It was similar this spring in Edmonton, where Albertans wanted me to know that all the separatism talk online isn’t “really who they are.” I believe these folks, to a certain extent. I believe much of the hate and division we see playing out in real life had its beginnings online, until it became the dominant discourse and was unleashed upon in the real world.

These discourses, then, become the training ground for the algorithms and AI-generated “thoughts” that have left civil society swirling around the toilet drain. If the only public discourse that counts occurs solely online, and if the online spaces are controlled by bots, propagandists and American corporate interests, can Canada even make and enforce our own laws any more?

Part of that test will come with impending legislation to keep our citizenry and children safe from the harms of digital life, through Bill C-35 and the coming provincial social media ban for youth. Just two weeks ago, the tech giant Meta was ordered to pay reparations and to implement policies to address the harms their products have inflicted upon the youth of America. However, these stipulations don’t apply in Canada. In France last month a law banning children under the age of 15 from social media was struck down as unconstitutional, and many in Canada anticipate a similar challenge to Bill C-35.

Recently, Google Maps promptly changed “Lake Ontario” to “Lake America” on U.S. platforms to placate the U.S. president after Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney stood up to Donald Trump during heated trade talks. We are looking at this kind of digital future — one built upon the only discourse that counts, where we cannot promote our own culture, protect our children, name our places, nor effectively enforce our own internet-safety laws. Have we, in fact, already been conquered?

rebecca.chambers@winnipegfreepress.com