Fiona McLaren

A few weeks ago we finally launched the new version of London2012.com that I’ve been working on since starting my current job just over a year ago.

This site replaces our old corporate site with a website designed to serve as a destination for results and information during the Games. At the moment it is looking pretty snazzy, but all of the snazziest stuff really kicks in once the Games get underway.

I’ve been involved with this project since the requirement gathering phase, through multiple rounds of usability and accessibility testing, and a few months of content entry. Apart from the beautiful venue and sport pages, one of the things on the site I’m most proud of are our BSL and Easy Read ‘micro-sites’ that have had fantastic feedback from users. 

This is a great start for the site and I’m super-excited to finally have it out of the door for other people to explore, but there’s plenty more to come, so watch this space…

This is a bit belated, but I just wanted to share a project I worked on towards the start of my time at London 2012. To coincide with the launch of Paralympic ticket sales we wanted to create an app that would allow people to explore sports that they may not know a lot about, and then invite their friends to attend the event with them.

The app was hosted on London2012.com and utilised Facebook connect to allow sharing. It’s aim was to highlight the unique aspects of Paralympic sport as well as letting people figure out the best match for their interests with selection sliders.

It was great to work on such a neat little product that involved working with a great development agency, as well as our marketing, sports and content teams.

Time has flown by since then and it’s hard to believe this was less than a year ago. There’s definitely more to come soon…

The last 48 hours have been impossibly hard. At midnight on Wednesday I stood outside the US embassy, with hundreds of others - friends, ex-collegues, strangers - in silent, candlelit vigil as we believed Troy Anthony Davis was being executed in the state of Georgia.

It was only after 10 sombre minutes that we quietly, sadly, started to talk again. Awaiting official news of his death we refreshed Twitter. We crowded round a few phones as Democracy Now’s live coverage from outside the prison started to stream in.

Moments passed.

And then cheers.

Someone shouted ‘What’s happening!?’

‘There’s been a stay!’, was the response.

We looked around in disbelief, our knees buckled. We cheered, we laughed, we cried and we hugged. I struggled to stay composed. What had been a funeral, suddenly felt like a miracle. But it didn’t last long.

We slowly all started to realise as we frantically looked for more news that what we had thought was the execution being called off, was in fact, just a temporary delay. We didn’t know how long it would last, what it meant, or why it had been granted. We didn’t know if there was anything we could do, whether Troy was in the execution chamber, or whether we’d be waiting minutes, hours or days for confirmation.

We waited. And we waited.

Slowly working out what had taken place. A voluntary delay whilst the Supreme Court considered a final appeal. We waited some more. Finally, at about 1.30am we all started to make our way home, hoping the rumours that it would last at least a few days were true.

I collapsed into bed, the Democracy Now stream softly in the background. I was quickly asleep. At about ten to four I woke up. Bleary eyed, fuzzy eared, I tried to figure out what the reporter was saying, what the garbled, impenetrable Twitter search meant.

Then it dawned on me. The appeal had failed.

In the middle of the night it felt like Troy was out of options and was about to face the devestatingly unthinkable death he had been on a road towards for 20 years. The nausea I’d been feeling all day returned, stronger than ever. Then the dreaded announcements came.

The execution is underway.

Time of death 11:08.

The world paused for a moment. I struggled to comprehend how the story had ended like this. From my first day at Amnesty UK, Troy’s case was ever present. His second execution was called off hours before it was due to go ahead - telling people was one of the first things I did at my still-new desk.

Over the following 3 years I learnt a lot about Troy, his family, and the other people fighting for him. I learnt the ins and outs of his case, the torturous process of the US appeals system, and how his case was making history.

I started to believe in his innocence, and my already deep rooted opposition to the death penalty became more ferocious.

I heard his sister and his nephew speak and grew to realise they were two of the most courageous and dedicated human rights campaigners he could have hoped to have on his side.

I was inspired by two incredible Amnesty campaigners too. Laura Moye in the US, and Kim Manning-Cooper, who I had the privilige of working alongside in our UK office. I will never forget the stories she told after visiting Troy on death row. Of how his prison cell was small enough that he could touch both walls at the same time, and how prisoners kept blades of grass, just to see something of the outside world.

The passion of those closest to Troy and his campaign was infectious. We all felt it, we all lived it. That was brought into sharp reality on Wednesday night. It felt like we were a family waiting, greiving, fighting, worrying - together.

The hours since then have been hard, but the one thing that makes the sheer injustice bearable, is that all of these people are continuing to speak out through their anger and sadness. Refusing to see this as a defeat. Continuing to fight for an end to the death penalty so that we never have to do this again, and that no more Troy’s have to face this inhumane practice.

Gracious to the last, Troy himself said it best, just a few days before his death:

“The struggle for justice doesn’t end with me. This struggle is for all the Troy Davises who came before me and all the ones who will come after me.”

You can send a message of solidarity to Troy’s family here.

(And apologies to Ben Smith at Amnesty UK for using his photo, I figured he wouldn’t mind)

I am no legal expert, and the seemingly shady, smoke and mirrors world, of super-injunctions is frankly baffling to a casual onlooker. That we don’t know how many there are, or who has taken one out, or what they’re protecting, can be alarming to those of us who believe strongly in the freedom of the press.

The revealing of the Trafigura super-injunction in late 2009 showed us all that they’re a tool that can be used to prevent the free reporting of substantive issues that are, arguably, of public interest. However, this week’s debate on super- injunctions just seems to be an ugly distraction from the questions we should be asking.

In my view, the private activities of celebrities should not require protection by the courts, not because the individuals do not deserve privacy, but because they are protecting what I consider to be non-stories. In short, they are mere gossip, that I do not believe should be a priority for any responsible media outlet.

Hunting the holders of these down and ‘outing’ them seems to me a horrible distortion of why we should care about super-injunctions (not to mention that it has become something akin to a witch hunt).

What worries me more than who has slept with who,  is the super-injunctions we don’t know about - and won’t find out about - that protect secrets we can only speculate on.

I for one, would rather a company like Trafigura can not stop a paper reporting something as substantial as the dumping of toxic waste. It feels like the tip of the iceberg of wrong-doings that are being hidden from us. To think super-injunctions are just a cover for the affairs and sexual preferences of individuals is a dangerous thing.

Of course, I may be worrying for nothing, all of the UK’s current super-injunctions may be, quite rightly, protecting things that need protecting - I do agree that there is an argument for them in certain circumstances - but we just don’t know, and that’s the problem.

One thing’s for sure though: As our use of social media increases and our news consumption is increasingly globalised, the UK courts will lose the ability to both police and enforce super-injunctions, and then it turns to us and our press to ensure that individual privacy is protected, and that the most important stories are told in a free and fair way.

Further reading: David Allen Green has published a far more knowledgeable article that makes similar points in the New Statesman that is worth a read too.

Today is my last day at Amnesty UK. The last two and an-almost-half years have been absolutely fantastic.

Not only have I been trusted to be the voice of Amnesty UK online and seen our online communities grow from mere flegdlings to the staggering size they are now, but I’ve also had the privilige to work with some of the most dedicated, enthusiastic and inspirational people I could ever have hoped for.

I don’t want to get too soppy about it, but seeing first hand what Amnesty manages to achieve has only convinced me of the need for such an organisation in the world.

The last month has proven this more than anything. Starting with Egypt, and continuing with each new protest, I’ve seen the whole organisation pull together and work insane hours to deliver something incredible. Everyone has gone above and beyond their day jobs to ensure we support the people facing far greater danger than ourselves, to achieve the things we all believe in.

Even though this chapter is ending, I will continue to be a member of Amnesty, and be an advocate for human rights; this job has turned me into an activist.

It’s also been amazing to be part of the wider ‘digital charity people’ world. I have never felt alone in frustrations and have always had a massive pool of people to learn from thanks to all those folks involved in NFP Tweetup, Digital Charities and the ECF network.

Two things remain to be said, firstly that my team at Amnesty are a bunch of insanely talented people: Guys, I’ve learnt so much from you, had a lot of fun on the way, and will miss you all more than anything. And second, I couldn’t have done any of my job without all of Amnesty’s supporters who took the time to get involved online.

My next adventure is altogether different: I’ll be starting in the digital team at London 2012 on Monday. More on that soon, but for the time being, wish me luck!

If there’s one thing I love about my current job, it’s the excitement of fast-moving crisis situations. I mean, obviously, in terms of world good, I’d rather there weren’t human rights abuses taking place, but you catch my drift.

Following the protests in Egypt via social media and 24 hour news over the last week (and trying to figure out @amnestyuk’s role in this) has been fascinating. Even more so when an Amnesty team ended up live tweeting from Cairo.

I think, quite rightly, the loudest voices have been those on the ground, and some of the incredible journalists such as Dan Nolan who are really in the thick of it.

In cases like this, it seems the role of organisations like Amnesty is (and should be) a supporting one. Signposting who to follow, and making statements to try to ensure human rights are a central focus of the media’s coverage and the global community’s lobbying.

I think, for whatever reason, the ‘noise’ from Egypt has been easier to cut through than it was during the Iranian protests. Whether it’s a sign that I have a well-curated set of Twitter followees (unlikely), or that as a community Twitter is getting better at sign-posting the best sources of information, or just that there are more international journalists on the ground, who knows?

For now, I am still following developments closely and chipping in where Amnesty’s voice will be useful - let’s hope it doesn’t descend into a violent crackdown and that the Egyptian protesters receive the sort of change they’re hoping for.

I am an avid iPad user. I’ve had mine since they were launched in the UK. I love it to absolute pieces and it has completely changed how I browse and use the web at home, how I work and what I read.

Up until now though, I was never entirely happy with any of the apps that turned your social connections, or even RSS feeds, into magazine or newspaper like objects. Sure, Flipboard was pretty okay, and Pulse sort of made sense for RSS, but was too limited, more importantly, neither did quite what I wanted.

Yesterday though, I downloaded TweetMag. And away we go, no faffing around. Log in to Twitter, quick loading time, and there. Bang! All the incredible links from people I follow in an easy to scan, read and browse format.

Then I start wondering: Are the people I follow too disparate? Their interests too diverse? Are these going to be the articles I most want to read?

But TweetMag have a solution for that too. You can turn anyone’s tweets or lists into a TweetMag. You can create them through search. And, on top of that, TweetMag have been kind enough to offer a whole bunch of interest-based curated lists that seem to be spot on.

It also works perfectly with lovely curating tooters like @longreads: Maybe combined they’ll really make a success, of the in-depth, long form, journalistic article on the web? I can certainly see myself devoting more attention to the sort of articles they celebrate.

In short, this is seriously good. Beautiful, functional, an enhancement to my reading life online. I think it’s a winner.

Thanks TweetMag.

I seem to be stumbling across, being taken to, or hearing about new and lovely cafes in Hackney nearly every day now. It is actually getting mildly ridiculous. Here is a list of ones I have and have not visited. More as a reference to myself than anything else. I like them more if they serve a decent breakfast.

Read the rest on my other blog