Nick Clegg may be available in Berlin. He has a slot in Paris. He’ll make time for lunch in Brussels. Then Omicron hits, and the vice-president of global affairs at Meta, formerly known as Facebook, is not coming to Europe after all. Instead Clegg offers to meet . . . in the metaverse, the immersive digital world hyped as the successor to the internet. In the metaverse, no one can give you Covid. So I put on a bulky virtual reality headset, sign away my data and log into a simulated meeting room.
There I find that the one-time deputy prime minister of the United Kingdom is now a wrinkle-free avatar with the word “Nick” hovering above it. “Can we get the sneering and mockery out of the way?” says the avatar. Sadly not, because he doesn’t have any trousers on. Neither do I. We don’t even have legs. To quote Microsoft computer scientist Jaron Lanier, Meta’s vision of the metaverse has so far not resolved “basic issues of geometry”.
Clegg is undeterred. This is how he holds team meetings each Monday morning. “I do feel like I’m sitting next to you,” he says. Is this believable? Clegg’s facial expression is computer-generated, so I have limited insight. But one thing is clear: if you thought that the one-time idol of liberal Britain regretted his move to Silicon Valley, his legless avatar suggests otherwise. If you saw his recent video with Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg celebrating the company’s name change and wondered if he has been taken hostage, he hasn’t.