In the 90s, bank robbing was big. Often, despite traumatising staff and bystanders, robbing banks was socially considered a victimless crime because the theft was from large financial institutions and not individuals. Mostly, bank robbers lived large for a few heady months funded with wads of cash before ending up in prison for decades.
These days thieves steal digital money remotely from the bank accounts of any individual they can con, especially the elderly, vulnerable, distracted or technologically awkward. Financial institutions take little responsibility for failing to safeguard money in the accounts of their customers. When the latest scam or major theft hits the news no one questions if it is real money. Digital money is real. We all use it, all the time. At best, cryptocurrencies are an attempt to wrest control of digital money from financial institutions that charge unreasonable fees for transactions, repeatedly fail to safeguard money formerly kept in a physical safe, and debank – which means to close individual accounts – on a whim. While still in its volatile infancy, crypto is not much different to the digital money we already use. Except that, in theory, stolen crypto can be traced via inbuilt digital provenance.
After I returned to Sydney from a long hiatus, during which I didn't keep up with technological changes, I wanted to catch a bus. At the bus stop, there was no schedule or information about which bus went where – just a list of numbers. When I saw a bus, it had an LED light sign on the front with the route number and final destination. I asked the driver how to get to where I wanted to go, which was about halfway toward where he was heading. Mildly annoyed and presumably under time pressure, he told me to look it up and drove off. Using my smartphone, I searched online for bus routes and schedules but couldn’t find them. When I tried to board the next bus, with the intention of getting somewhat closer to my destination, I was refused because I didn't have an Opal card and the driver didn't accept cash. I returned to the bus stop and searched online to discover that an Opal card is a state-and-transport-specific plastic card which electronically deducts bus and train fees and is topped up with money digitally transferred from one's bank account. The Opal card was not available to buy on the bus, only over the counter at approved retailers.
A few weeks later I asked a new friend how she could manage to get to work on time by catching the bus given there were no schedules. She told me she looked up the information in real time on an app called TripViewLite – unrelated to the Opal card – which wasn't mentioned in any of my online searches (nor was there mention of any other app). I downloaded it, bought an Opal card at the local newsagent, and the world of public transport was instantly and easily navigable. The experience was a mild yet exasperating lesson in being left behind because I didn't keep up with technological change.
Digital tools are now so ingrained in our lives that their existence is assumed knowledge. They can be difficult to figure out via research or asking questions because everyone assumes you already know. User instructions are being replaced by intuitive design. Intuitive design is easy to understand if we keep up with technological development. We are all eventually forced to keep up anyway by planned obsolescence – our old laptop might still work as a machine but after an ever-shortening timeframe it's not possible to update its programs, making it less viable to use with each passing week. We either adapt or die slowly by being unable to buy food or pay the utility bills.
Digital strategy is the use of digital technologies to reach specific outcomes. It is now globally accepted that in the future, all business strategy will be digital strategy.
We are already at the point where everyday living in any developed country requires navigating the digital realm, which we do in informal, haphazard ways with the ever-present risk of unintended consequences. This realm is better navigated using digital strategy. The problem is that digital strategy is not stable due to the nature of the internet. Digital devices rely on the 'net to communicate information. However the 'net is constantly changing and becoming crowded with information – and misinformation– so methods of communication inevitably become outdated and less efficient or replaced with something else. It is impossible to predict because by the time anyone gets close to understanding the world wide web, it's already changed. Consequently, digital strategy is always in a state of flux.
Twenty years ago, I was the first Australian artist, perhaps the first globally, to walk away from the traditional commercial gallery system to connect directly with the audience for my work via the internet. My brief stint in the trad' artworld involved horrific experiences which served as a powerful incentive to find an alternative way forward. It worked and was recognised in mainstream media, specifically the business section, and among scholars of strategy. But then I fell apart and had to take a long, dramatic hiatus to recover psychologically from the experiences which made me embrace digital strategy in the first place. These days I'm rebuilding my career as an artist using the same method of connecting directly with the audience for my art via the internet. The difference during my second time round is that technological change happens faster. I've accepted that my use of digital strategy will need to evolve in real time. As part of my own work, I constantly observe and analyse the digital realm, experiment, and tweak digital strategies to see what works.
In October 2024 I advised Australia’s leading arts critic, John McDonald, on digital strategy after he was fired at short notice from Sydney Morning Herald and Australian Financial Review. After providing the concept and developing and executing initial strategy to establish Everything the artworld doesn’t want you to know, I delivered further original ideas and strategy for long term independent growth. While I'll still provide occasional advice as his site grows, I'm returning to my own work – which, although primarily focussed on painting, now includes this weekly column on digital strategy. You can read an overview of my experience in this area at the artist bio’ of my website.
This column will be a review of digital strategies as they evolve and the digital tools and platforms available to artists – and everyone else. In non-tech language, it'll be a guide on how to not get left behind at the bus stop of life by a rapidly changing world.