 So, my name's Salome Fulune, and I'm going to tell you a story about a river, specifically the Cuyahoga River, and I think it's also a lesson in how we've solved particular problems, by which I mean collective systemic problems that require collective systemic solutions. It's also a lesson in how a river can go from a flow of water and a part of a cycle in nature to a thing of productive extractive value and use in industry to a living practice of commons management and moderation, of balancing many interests, both human and ecological. But first I want to place it, so the Cuyahoga River is in northeast Ohio, it runs through Cleveland and into Lake Erie. But before Cleveland even existed, this river was valuable. It was valuable to the native people who lived there, the Iroquois, and to wildlife. At the turn of the last century, the river was part of the industrial explosion happening on the banks of Lake Erie. It powered electricity and dams, it was used to ship goods, and with industrialization we see the first shift in our core logic about this river. It becomes something else, a thing of production, seen in terms of its use for economic reasons and in terms of extractive value. And where there's industrial growth, there's pollution. At times the Cuyahoga was one of the most polluted rivers in the U.S., and by the mid-century the reach from Akron to Cleveland was totally devoid of fish. Sins of the river were covered in a brown oily film, large quantities of black oil floated in slicks several inches thick, in which debris and trash often caught. The color changed from gray brown to rust brown as the river wound downstream, and animal life did not exist. One fateful day in June of 1969, the Cuyahoga River caught fire. Now this wasn't actually the first time this river caught fire, it had caught fire 13 times before, the first in 1868 and the largest in 1952. But something about this was pretty interesting, which is weird because pollution wasn't a big story at the time. Here we see oil slicks around the Statue of Liberty and smog in New York and LA. But something about this June fire sparked change. The story was picked up by Time Magazine, which described the Cuyahoga as the river that oozes rather than flows and in which people do not drown but decay. And this powerful image was circulated nationally during a wake-up moment. It helped spur environmental change in the U.S., and it was really picked up by the environmental movement. And this led to fixes, both local and federal. So we saw the Clean Water Act passed, the Great Lakes Water Quality Agreement was passed in the region, and ultimately it helped lead to the creation of the EPA. And I think what we see here is we really changed the way we manage water, and here we see a second shift in our core logic of rivers. Now, something with useful productive purposes, sure, but also something that if mismanaged can create risks of toxicity and harm, and also finally something that has value and meaning beyond its role in production and for humans. And I think in short, this is a shifting attitude from what I'll call an extractive approach to an ecosystemic or ecological approach, from just thinking about what can be taken to what are permissible uses, what are unacceptable toxicities, all with an eye to managing the overall systemic health of something. So managing a river requires communications across groups between localities up and downstream, and it requires explicitly thinking about the trade-offs between agricultural, industrial, and the natural purposes of a river. And I think this approach has really helped. It's really helped the Cuyahoga River. This is a picture of it today. It has fish in it, people can even swim in it. It's not perfect, it still has pollution, but it's greatly improved. And I also think that the lesson of the Cuyahoga can be a way for us to think about what other collective systemic problems we're facing and for which we can think about similar collective systemic solutions. So my own work is in the data economy where I see systemic problems like toxic practices, the over-extraction of resources, all happening in a highly relational and interconnected ecosystem of information. And I think we're seeing a lot of externality or almost sort of pollutive effects in this economy. And I think that we can similarly to our approach to rivers think about collective systemic solutions here that switch us to an ecological approach to data, something that has productive value, that poses systemic risks, but which also stems from aspects of us that are non-economic and that have illegible value as well. So a lot of people in this room and in my larger community may think that the current state of data collection is a bit of a dumpster fire. From the effects of election security, rise of hate speech online, architectures of hyperconnection and personalization, as well as sort of underlying all of that, the data imperative driving companies to ever more seamless data extraction. But I like to think about the state of our data economy as more like a river on fire. And that's something that we know how to fix. Thank you.