On New Years Day, 2000, NYPD raided an underground bunker and uncovered a human experiment. Was it a cult? Was it art? Was it the future?

They found a spotless interrogation room, a banquet table with seating for 50, communal bathrooms, an indoor firing range with dozens of pistols and rifles, a bunkroom – each bed wired with a closed circuit television that tuned into any of the hundred cameras wired into the space.

The experiment was to create the future – a future where anyone can syndicate their life to anyone willing to tune in. What would it be like to live in public? An how would humans cope in an environment where it was all too easy to connect with anyone, anytime and bare your soul (or your skin) using technology?

Fast Forward to 2009
A webcam costs $20, if it’s not already built into your Macbook or Thinkpad. Facebook and Twitter make it simple to broadcast anything to anyone via the cellphones in your pocket. Celebrities and puppies stream their lives with the help of Ustream. As fun as the attention and supposed connection appears to be, I wonder how it’s changing our sense of humanity. How is the constant interaction with each other via technology changing our ability to relate to each other? Changing ourselves?

The Past Future
Ten years ago, internet entrepreneur and artist, Josh Harris posed these questions. He spent his internet millions on experiments to understand how these technologies would impact us. Ondi Timoner's Sundance award-winning film We Live in Public tells the story of his experiments and his attempts to predict the future – a future we are living in today.



Harris saw our world filled with video streaming, Twittering and Facebook/MySpacing a decade ago. He had the audacity (and the money) to take his visions and test them out. How far would people go for their 15 minutes of fame?

Life in his hi-tech bunker started out with grand parties, a sense of invincibility and the feeling that they were doing something brand new. However, as events unfolded there was a tangiable feeling that it was all too good to be true. And it was...

There was no question that things were about to go horribly wrong -- it was just a matter of how badly…

Harris wasn't just running the experiment, he’d also wired his entire life. There were no secrets, the little white lies that lubricate life were all too transparent. With nothing to hide behind, just the footage – invigorating, shocking, unforgettable -- people got hurt.

Big Brother of Self Expression?

Is it “big brother” when you wire your own surveillance cameras and publish the streams online for anyone to watch? This is exactly what Harris did. He not only wired the bunker, he also fitted his New York loft with microphones and cameras (including infra-red) and moved in with his girlfriend, excited to be the first couple to live in public. I’m not going to spoil the film, but if you missed watching Harris live on the internet ten years ago, there’s plenty of provocative footage in the film that shows the upside -- and downside -- of living with an audience.

Open your Heart, and they’ll Stab You

When life is good, everyone loves you. But not so when things fall apart. While “living in public” Harris, who had made had made his millions in the pre-2000 tech scene, lost it all as the dot-com bubble burst. His girlfriend left, his viewers attacked him and his experiment became an animal cage. Harris escaped to an apple farm and later to Ethiopia, but is it so easy for us to run off to Costa Rica? I don’t think so.

Last month ago, NIN frontman, Trent Reznor, publically stated he would step back from his active participation in social media – Twitter and NIN.com message boards. The reason for this he cited was the negative backlash from his public -- specifically he was tired of trolls and negativity from the fans who personally attacked him when he twittered about certain subjects. Most of us have experienced this, our past online friends and supporters shockingly turn on us and attack us when we need their support the most.

Months after watching We Live in Public, I’m still thinking about the questions it raises. What happens when everyone can easily syndicate their life online? Do we lose the concept of privacy in exchange for 15 minutes of fame? If everyone is vying for their 15 minutes of fame, who is paying attention? At what point do your internet friends become more important than the real people in your life? Do you prefer to have dinner with your laptop instead of your partner? Are we losing the ability to connect on a lasting and sustainable basis? What does it mean when it’s easier to talk to a stranger online, than one in real life? What’s happened to our humanity? Who have we become?

I’d like to hope that we use technology to connect and expand our lives, but I fear it’s putting us in a cage. It’s Harris’s fear as well: “Years ago, the lions and tigers were kings of the jungle, and one day they ended up in zoos. I suspect we’re on the same trap.”

I hope for our sake, he is wrong; but after watching We Live in Public, I can’t help to think, he might be right.

Heathervescent is a writer, technology consultant and agent of cacophony. You can read more of her adventures at www.heathervescent.com and follow her @heathervescent.