Margaret Talbot has written an excellent New Yorker essay entitled, “The Rogue Experimenters,” which documents the growth of the D.I.Y.-bio movement. This refers to the organic, bottom-up, citizen science movement, or “leaderless do-ocracy” of tinkerers, as she notes. I highly recommend you check it out.

As I noted in my new book on Evasive Entrepreneurs and the Future of Governance, “DIY health services and medical devices are on the rise thanks to the combined power of open-source software, 3D printers, cloud computing, and digital platforms that allow information sharing between individuals with specific health needs. Average citizens are using these new technologies to modify their bodies and abilities, often beyond the confines of the law.”

Talbot discusses many of the same examples I discuss in my book, including:

• the Four Thieves Vinegar collective, which devised instructions for building its own version of the EpiPen;
• e-nable, an international collective of thirty thousand volunteers, designs and 3-D-prints prosthetic hands and arms (and which has, more recently, distributed more than fifty thousand face shields in more than twenty-five countries.);
• GenSpace and other community biohacking labs; and
• Open Insulin and Open Artificial Pancreas System.

I like the way Talbot compares these movements to the hacker and start-up culture of the Digital Revolution:

The D.I.Y.-bio movement, which emerged in the early two-thousands, seems almost evolutionarily adapted to its historical moment,” she argues. “It echoes aspects of startup culture, especially the early days of personal computing, with its garage-based origin stories. First came the hardware, then the software; now even the wetware of life can be created in people’s homes. D.I.Y. bio reflects popular skepticism about professional authority and gatekeeping, but it is not skeptical about learning or expertise.

She also quotes others on this point, like John Wilbanks, a health technologist at the research nonprofit Sage Bionetworks:

when new biotech companies fail, they tend to sell off their equipment for a discount, and community labs and biohackers scoop it up. Wilbanks told me, “D.I.Y. bio is very similar to the home-brew, hacker-club culture of the late seventies in Silicon Valley. If you’ve not gone on eBay to shop for a DNA sequencer that they can ship to you in twenty-four hours, check it out—there’s a massive secondary market.”

Perhaps the most interesting thing about this bottom-up citizen-science movement is that it run the political gamut. It includes “anarcho-libertarians” to those “steeped in social-justice activism,” Talbot says. But they are all generally unified by a commitment to the widespread dissemination of scientific knowledge and transparency in health-related matters. “D.I.Y. biologists often have a greater commitment than their professional counterparts do to making their work open to scrutiny—and available for free on the Internet,” Talbot notes.

“The D.I.Y.-bio ecosystem includes a lot of do-gooders, and many of them have been galvanized by the covid-19 crisis,” she also observes. Quite right. I discussed that fact in the launch essay for my book, “Evasive Entrepreneurialism and Technological Civil Disobedience in the Midst of a Pandemic.” I documented dozens of examples of various individuals and organizations rising up to meet the challenges posed by the pandemic. “Eventually, people take notice of how regulators and their rules encumber entrepreneurial activities, and they act to evade them when public welfare is undermined,” I argued. “Working around the system becomes inevitable when the permission society becomes so completely dysfunctional and counterproductive.” DIY health innovation has gone mainstream out of necessity.

Importantly, Talbot notes that when it comes to what counts as success for DIY health and biohacking, sometimes good enough is, well, good enough. On this point, she quotes Jon Schull, an e-nable (non-commercial 3D-printed prosthetics) co-founder, who says, “it doesn’t matter that e-nable hands aren’t state-of-the-art. The job of professional prostheses-makers, he said, is “to produce something really good, and if it’s merely better than nothing it’s not good enough”—but, in some circumstances, something is better than nothing.”

That is a crucial point understanding why this movement is so important: Working together in a spontaneous, bottom-up fashion, citizen scientists and tinkerers can act quickly to fill pressing public health needs. Of course, that is exactly what makes these same innovations potentially risky and has some people wondering about the wisdom of such efforts—and the potential need for more regulation.

I wish Talbott would have spent a bit more time diving into these ethical and legal questions. I really struggled with them when writing about all this stuff in my new book on evasive entrepreneurialism and technological civil disobedience. She does briefly discuss how some FDA regs might affect DIY bio movement, including efforts like Open Insulin.  “Even if Open Insulin begins producing a consistent product, it will have to overcome all kinds of regulatory obstacles to demonstrate safety and purity before taking it to market,” she notes. “Manufacturers of pharmacy-grade medications must provide the F.D.A. with reams of evidence that they can produce the substances with complete consistency, in sterile environments. Proving this level of proficiency can cost millions of dollars.” But Talbot does not spend much more time exploring what might happen next on this front if DIY efforts continue to expand.

“But what should the law say about people… who are creating their own specialized medical devices in an open-source, noncommercial fashion?” I ask in my new book.

I outlined three potential future scenarios for the movement:

1. DIY technologies go mainstream and become more commercialized.
2. biohacking remains decentralized but becomes more mainstream and professional without becoming fully commercial.
3. biohacking turn even more rogue or underground in nature as a form of guerrilla innovation that sometimes borders on neo-anarchism.

Regardless of the outcome, the ethical and regulatory issues will persist and grow as technological capabilities continue to grow more sophisticated, decentralized, and inexpensive. I argue in the book that it would be foolish for policymakers to think they can (or should) bottle up this movement altogether:

biohacking and decentralized medicine will expand for a simple reason: People care deeply about improving their health and abilities. They will take advantage of new technological capabilities that let them do so—especially when those capabilities are significantly cheaper than other options. To reiterate, that does not make these technologies safe or smart, but it does mean we will need a new approach to governance as evasive entrepreneurialism expands in this arena.

And then I continue on to note how improved risk education and awareness efforts might be one solution to the growing DIY bio movement.

Anyway, for more discussion on this, see pages 79-87 of my new book. I’ve also listed a few other essays down below that you might find interesting, including several penned by my former colleague Jordan Reimschisel.

Additional Reading:

• Andrea O’Sullivan & Adam Thierer, “3D Printers, Evasive Entrepreneurs and the Future of Tech Regulation,” The Bridge, August 1, 2018, https://www.mercatus.org/bridge/commentary/3d-printers-evasive-entrepreneurs-and-future-tech-regulation
• Jordan Reimschisel, “Biohackerspaces,” Medium, June 29, 2017, https://medium.com/@jordanreimschisel/biohackerspaces-b0cbde63c492
• Jordan Reimschisel, “Technology Could Enable Personal Medicine Whether We Like It Or Not,” Medium, August 10, 2017, https://medium.com/@jordanreimschisel/technology-could-enable-personal-medicine-whether-we-like-it-or-not-ce6e19b826fe
• Jordan Reimschisel, “Evolving Oversight of Digital Health,” Medium, June 21, 2018, https://medium.com/@jordanreimschisel/evolving-oversight-of-digital-health-d65199913503
• Adam D. Thierer and Adam Marcus, “Guns, Limbs, and Toys: What Future for 3D Printing?” Minnesota Journal of Law, Science & Technology, Vol. 17, No. 2, (2016), p. 805-854, http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2795562

After reading LM Sacasas’ recent piece on moral communities , I couldn’t help but wonder if the piece was written in the esoteric mode .

Let me explain by some meandering.

Now, I am surely going to butcher his argument, so take a read of it yourself, but there is a bit of an interesting call and response structure to the piece. He begins with commentary on “frequent deployment of the rhetorical we ,” in discussions over the morality of technology. Then, channeling Langdon Winner, he notes approvingly that “What matters here is that this lovely ‘we’ suggests the presence of a moral community that may not, in fact, exist at all, at least not in any coherent, self-conscious form.”

He is right, the use of the rhetorical we helps to construct a community, which he thens deploys later in the piece. To see this in action,   

…The idea that technical forms are merely neutral has proven hard to shake. For a very long time, it has been a cornerstone principle of our thinking about technology and society. Or, more to the point, we have taken it for granted and have consequently done very little thinking about technology with regards to society.

I’ll note in passing that the liberal democratic structures of modern political culture and the development of technology are deeply intertwined, and they have both depended upon the presumption of their ostensible neutrality. I tempted to think that our present crisis is a function of a growing realization that neither our political structures nor our technologies are, in fact, merely neutral instruments.

Before becoming a policy analyst, I went to graduate school at the University of Illinois at Chicago and studied communication, which at the time was transitioning away from the influence of former dean Stanley Fish and becoming a new media study program. The staff was and still is excellent, but at the time it was deeply heterodox, including both old school rhetoricians and literary scholars as well as communication historians, and communication sociologists.

All of this background is to say that Sacasas’ charge that “we have taken it for granted and have consequently done very little thinking about technology with regards to society,” depends a lot on the kind of community you call your own and how you understand community.

My former community, communication scholars, has a long history of exploring these questions. Indeed, one of my favorite classes was an introductory survey course on democracy and technology . But Sacasas all too well knows that community. I don’t think he was intending to suggest those kind of counterpublics when suggesting community. As he notes, “There is no moral community or public space in which technological issues are topics for deliberation, debate, and shared action.” Here, he means moral community as it comes to us from Durkheim. Just as a reminder, moral community in this tradition generally references “those beings that you need to think ‘but is this right’ before you do something that could affect them.” In other words, questions over the morality of technology are not attended by the kinds of questions that constitute a moral community. I want to come back to this point later.

Where does this leave us? He further explains,

We are, at present, stuck in an unhelpful tendency to imagine that our only options with regard to how we govern technology are, on the one hand, individual choices and, on the other, regulation by the state. What’s worse, we’ve also tended to oppose these to one another. But this way of conceptualizing our situation is both a symptom of the deepest consequences of modern technology and part of the reason why it is so difficult to make any progress.

Technology operates at different scales and effective mechanisms of governance need to correspond to the challenges that arise at each scale. Mechanism of governance that makes sense at one end of the spectrum will be ineffective at the other end and vice versa.

Our problem is basically this: technologies that operate at the macro-level cannot be effectively governed by micro-level mechanisms, which basically amount to individual choices. At the macro-level, however, governance is limited by the degree to which we can arrive at public consensus, and the available tools of governance at the macro-level cannot address all of the ways technologies impact individuals. What is required is a cocktail of strategies that address the consequences of technology as they manifest themselves across the spectrum of scale.

In other words, Sacasas sets up a governance gap problem . There are micro-level solutions and macro-level solutions, but nothing in the middle that might emanate from a moral community. But, again, the fundamental criticism of this entire argument hinges on accepting the rhetorical we and the notion of a community. Or, to say it another way, a community must first be constructed for a governance gap to exist. If we don’t agree to the rhetorical construction of community, if there is no we, then there is no gap to fill. This is no small feat. Even Durkheim’s original understanding of moral community was a subjective understanding of the ethics of an imagined community.

But even separate from the construction problem, it is not clear to me that there isn’t already “a cocktail of strategies that address the consequences of technology as they manifest themselves across the spectrum of scale.” For example, Facebook changed its policy on breastfeeding photos after a group of mothers organized and pushed the #FreeTheNipple campaign . I cannot help but wonder if that is the kind of community driven strategy that Sacasas would want to promote.

That notoriously nebulous concept of civil society is worth invoking here. Organizations like EFF and EPIC and FreePress sue platforms and local governments, and help enact change. And what about all of the reports from journalists in the last decade? They have impacted both Facebook and Google, forcing them to change. Same with Apple and AT&T and Verizon. All of this is to say, I’m not exactly convinced this vision of the world is the appropriate yardstick of critique.   

While I was away at Oxford University last week, a USA Today story ran entitled “Online Hate Speech: Difficult to Police… and Define.”  The author, Theresa Howard, was kind enough to call me for comment on the issue before I left and I made two general points in response to her questions about how serious online hate speech was and how we should combat it:

(1) “The Internet is a cultural bazaar. It’s the place to find the best and worst of all human elements on display.” What I meant by that, quite obviously, is that you can’t expect to have the most open, accessible communications platform the world has ever known and not also have a handful of knuckleheads who use it spew vile, hateful, ridiculous comments. But we need to put things in perspective: Those jerks represent only a very, very small minority of all online speech and speakers. Hate speech is not the norm online.  The overwhelmingly majority of  online speech is of a socially acceptable — even beneficial — nature.

(2) “When advocacy groups work together and use the new technology at their disposal, they have a way of signaling out bad speech and bad ideas.” What I meant by that was that the best way to combat the handful of neanderthals out there that spew hateful garbage is to: (a) use positive speech to drown out hateful speech, and (b) encourage websites to self-police themselves or use community policing techniques to highlight hateful speech and encourage the community to fight back.  Importantly, this process is reinforcing.  When online communities “flag and tag” objectionable or hateful content, it is easier for better site policing to occur, for social norms to develop, and for better speech to be targeted at that bad speech.  Moreover, these new tools and methods are helping groups like the Anti-Defamation League and the National Hispanic Media Coalition to better identify hate speech and then channel their collective energy and efforts to unite the rest of the online community against those hateful speakers and sites.

I think this approach makes more sense than calling in governments to police online hate speech through censorship efforts. This is especially the case because, at the margins, “hate speech” can often be tricky to define and, at least in the United States, regulatory efforts could conflict with legitimate free speech rights. Again, the best way to deal with and marginalize such knuckleheads is with more and better speech.  Fight stupidity with sensibility, not censorship.

Meetup.com founder Scott Heiferman explains how Meetup is all about “The Pursuit of Community” in the New York Times.

A Meetup is about the simple idea of using the Internet to get people off the Internet. People feel a need to commiserate or get together and talk about what’s important to them. Our biggest categories are moms, small business, health support and fitness. When we were designing the site, we were wrong about almost everything we thought people would want to use it for. I thought it would be a niche lifestyle venture, perhaps for fan clubs. I had no idea that people would form new types of P.T.A.’s, chambers of commerce or health support groups. And we weren’t thinking that anyone would want to meet about politics, but there are thousands of these Meetups. People have organized more than 200,000 monthly Meetups in more than 100 countries. There’s nothing more powerful than a community coming together around a purpose. We spend increasingly more time in front of screens. We’re more connected technologically, but we’re less connected physically.

Heiferman’s vision of technology bringing people together in pursuit of shared interests,passions and causes, from the political to the charitable to the trivial, would have delighted Alexis de Tocqueville, whose 1835 classic Democracy in America identified voluntary association as the unique genius of the American character.

Tocqueville concluded that representative democracy had flourished in America, rather than leading to murderous despotism as it had in Tocqueville’s revolutionary France, because, among other things, Americans built a rich civic society interposed between the atomized individual and the state. Rather than suppressing political associations as factions dangerous to the health of the state, Americans embraced political associations (parties and causes), which served as “large free schools, where all the members of the community go to learn the general theory of association.” Americans would apply that art in every other walk of life, from today’s AIDS Walks or PTA meetings to groups of rock climber enthusiasts: “The art of association then becomes… the mother of action, studied and applied by all.” Tocqueville concludes:

When you see the Americans freely and constantly forming associations for the purpose of promoting some political principle, of raising one man to the head of affairs, or of wresting power from another, you have some difficulty in understanding how men so independent do not constantly fall into the abuse of freedom. If, on the other hand, you survey the infinite number of trading companies in operation in the United States, and perceive that the Americans are on every side unceasingly engaged in the execution of important and difficult plans, which the slightest revolution would throw into confusion, you will readily comprehend why people so well employed are by no means tempted to perturb the state or to destroy that public tranquillity by which they all profit. Is it enough to observe these things separately, or should we not discover the hidden tie that connects them? In their political associations the Americans, of all conditions, minds, and ages, daily acquire a general taste for association and grow accustomed to the use of it. There they meet together in large numbers, they converse, they listen to one another, and they are mutually stimulated to all sorts of undertakings. They afterwards transfer to civil life the notions they have thus acquired and make them subservient to a thousand purposes. Thus it is by the enjoyment of a dangerous freedom that the Americans learn the art of rendering the dangers of freedom less formidable.

Thus does the First Amendment protect not just speech, religion and lobbying, but also the “right of the people peaceably to assemble”: Not just because the right of assembly is key to democracy but because it allows us to unite in “Pursuit of Community.”

In an earlier post, I mentioned an important new online child safety task force report that has just been released from the “Point Smart. Click Safe.” Blue Ribbon Working Group. It’s a great report and I encourage you to read the whole thing. It was my great pleasure to serve on this task force, and as we started finalizing our conclusions and recommendations, I started thinking about how much of what we were finding and recommending was consistent with what past online safety task forces had also concluded.

By way of background, over the past decade, five major online safety task forces or blue ribbon commissions have been convened to study online safety issues. Two of these task forces were convened in the United States and issued reports in 2000 (“COPA Commission”) and 2002 (“Thornburgh Commission“). Another was commissioned by the British government in 2007 and issued in a major report in March 2008 (“Byron Review“). Finally, two additional online safety task forces were formed in the U.S. in 2008 and concluded their work, respectively, in January (“Internet Safety Technical Task Force“) and July (“Point Smart. Click Safe.“) of 2009. [And yet another task force — the Online Safety Technology Working Group — was recently formed and has now gotten underway.]

In a new PFF white paper, ” Five Online Safety Task Forces Agree: Education, Empowerment & Self-Regulation Are the Answer,” I walk through a chronological summary of each of these past task forces [click on covers of each report below to read them in their entirety] and highlight some of the similar themes and recommendations from them.

Altogether, these five task forces heard from hundreds of experts and produced thousands of pages of testimony and reports on a wide variety of issues related to online child safety. While each of these task forces had different origins and unique membership, what is striking about them is the general unanimity of their conclusions. Among the common themes or recommendations of these five task forces:

• Education is the primary solution to most online child safety concerns. These task forces consistently stressed the importance of media literacy, awareness-building efforts, public service announcements, targeted intervention techniques, and better mentoring and parenting strategies.
• There is no single “silver-bullet” solution or technological “quick-fix” to child safety concerns. That is especially the case in light of the rapid pace of change in the digital world.
• Empowering parents and guardians with a diverse array of tools, however, can help families, caretakers, and schools to exercise more control over online content and communications.
• Technological tools and parental controls are most effective as part of a “layered” approach to child safety that views them as one of many strategies or solutions.
• The best technical control measures are those that work in tandem with educational strategies and approaches to better guide and mentor children to make wise choices. Thus, technical solutions can supplement, but can never supplant, the educational and mentoring role.
• Industry should formulate best practices and self-regulatory systems to empower users with more information and tools so they can make appropriate decisions for themselves and their families. And those best practices, which often take the form of an industry code of conduct or default control settings, should constantly be refined to take into account new social concerns, cultural norms, and technological developments.
• Government should avoid inflexible, top-down technological mandates. Instead, policymakers should focus on encouraging collaborative, multifaceted, multi-stakeholder initiatives and approaches to enhance online safety. Additional resources for education and awareness-building efforts are also crucial. Finally, governments should ensure appropriate penalties are in place to punish serious crimes against children and also make sure law enforcement agencies have adequate resources to police crimes and punish wrong-doers.

The consistency of these findings from those five previous task forces is important and it should guide future discussions among policymakers, the press, and the general public regarding online child safety.  As I note in the paper, the findings are particularly relevant today since Congress and the Obama Administration — including 3 federal agencies (NTIA, FCC, & FTC) are actively studying these issues. So, in light of all that, I hope this short paper can shed some light on the collective wisdom of the past task forces. While more study of online child safety issues is always welcome — including additional task forces or working groups if policymakers deem them necessary — thanks to the work of these five task forces, we now have better vision of what is needed to address online safety concerns.

Five Online Safety Task Forces Agree [PFF – Adam Thierer] http://d.scribd.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=17181137&access_key=key-z6cxfgrjkqaqtxbix&page=1&version=1&viewMode=