Third on the headlines today on TechMeme (perhaps the leading tech news aggregator) is this headline: “An Apology To Our Readers,” a heart-felt piece from TechCrunch editor Michael Arrington disclosing that a TechCrunch intern had, on at least two occasions, demanded computers from start-ups as compensation for writing favorable blog posts about them on the highly influential site. The intern was immediately suspended and, when the allegation was confirmed, terminated. Arrington made no excuses for Daniel Brusilovsky on account of his age (he’s under 18). You can read Daniel’s response here.

If this incident demonstrates anything, it’s just how essential it is for a site like TechCrunch to, as Arrington promised his readers in closing, “maintain complete transparency with you on how we operate, even when it isn’t such an easy thing to do.” Arrington went so far as to have “deleted all content created by this person on our blogs”—indeed, “every word written by this person on the TechCrunch network,” which presumably includes comments.

One might take from this the lesson that the press, as it evolves from the newspaper model towards something blog-ier but still hard to pin down precisely, can police itself pretty darn well. Alas, the FTC has taken a much dimmer view of the ability of reputational incentives to discipline the influence that might be exerted by “blogola” payments (cash or in-kind) on editorial discretion and journalistic creation. Last October, the FTC updated its “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising” to provide that bloggers should disclose any direct financial interest in subjects they write about if they wish to avoid being subject to an FTC enforcement action—even though no such endorsement is required of traditional journalists, as Adam noted. The best response to this was probably this splendid open letter from Randall Rothenberg, President and Chief Executive Officer of the Interactive Advertising Bureau (IAB) to FTC Chairman Jon Leibowitz, as Adam noted here.

TechCrunch goes out of their way to avoid even the appearance of bias—just as traditional publications do, if not more so! So why should they be subject to special FTC scrutiny? Of course, if a site sets forth a policy about endorsements, it would clearly be held to that promise by the FTC and any violation for breaking that promise could be considered an “unfair” or “deceptive” trade practice under the FTC’s existing statutory authority.

If the FTC really wanted to encourage other sites to follow the lead of TechCrunch, they could encourage (but not bully) others into developing some kind of a seal program like that developed by TrustE that would lay out core principles for how sites handle blogola and product endorsements. If a site wanted to advertise its commitment to these principles, it could display the seal on its site—and be held to that commitment by the FTC (with a self-regulatory group perhaps providing additional enforcement or auditing). If a site chose not to do so, users would be able to see that, too.

A very robust version of this idea could take the next step and use a machine-readable tag so that any site choosing to participate in a “trust seal” program wouldn’t have to rely on just putting this icon on its page, but could instead simply include, in the packets sent to users who visit the page, the tag that corresponds to either (a) the URL for its own endorsement policy or (b) the URL for the for that “trust seal” seal program the site participates in. That tag could then be “read” by a plug-in or a tool built directly into the browser that would either link to the disclosure page or display an appropriate “trust” icon for the site next to the address bar, just as HTTPS sites using SSL encryption get a special green block or safe-looking lock next to their URL. (This is precisely the kind of interface the Mozilla Foundation is thinking about implementing its Firefox browser for websites’ privacy policies.) When the user clicks on that icon, they could get more information about the site’s policies or how the trust seal program works.

The important thing about such a concept, however implemented, is that there could be multiple seal programs out there, each of which could do the hard work of figuring out what appropriate disclosure policies could be and how to make them work in an evolving medium. Given TechCrunch’s leadership in this area, I’d say the TechCrunch seal program could be a gold standard in the online news and commentary business.

This is the kind of innovation that could occur in this space (and others, like privacy) if users really care as much about blogola as the FTC thinks they do—and if the FTC encouraged innovation in disclosure and self-regulation instead of trying to write proscriptive rules to cover all possible situations. (In fairness to the FTC, what I’m proposing works well for “first party” content authored by a site’s employees but there’s a separate problem of how to deal with “third party” content like blog comments on someone else’s site. If a company sends its employees to post comments or reviews praising its products on another blog or, say, on Amazon’s product reviews, I don’t really have a problem with expecting that company to require that its employees disclose their affiliation when they post elsewhere because there probably isn’t a better way to deal with this issue.)

For now, I’m content that sites like TechCrunch are already actively guarding their reputation with prompt disciplinary action such as what Arrington described today. The more attention paid to responsible self-regulation like this, the more other sites will be prompted to follow TechCrunch’s lead—and keep innovating in how to build systems and interfaces that assure user trust.

Another great column by the Wall Street Journal’s Gordon Crovitz, who is quickly becoming my favorite tech policy columnist. In today’s column, “Bloggers Mugged by Regulators,” he comments on the FTC’s new disclosure rules for bloggers, which I discussed here over the weekend.  Crovitz focuses on the enforcement challenges associated with the new rules and also argues that self-regulation should be given a chance to work:

There should be more disclosure, but the Web is different from earlier media in ways that make government regulation less relevant and practical. The Web has its own self-regulatory mechanisms. Failing to disclose interests sullies one’s reputation online, and reputation harm travels faster and lasts longer than it did before the Web. There’s also greater need for caveat emptor online, because there is no practical way that any government agency can monitor the world’s bloggers and posters. There will always be people who post comments about products and services that are self-serving in one way or another, at least by someone’s definition. […] Instead of trying to extend analog-era regulations onto the Web, the FTC should encourage readers to be vigilant about assessing for themselves the independence of sources online. At least we now know the biggest fraudulent claim so far on the Web: It’s been committed by regulators claiming there can be a government stamp of approval on everything anyone posts anywhere on the Web.

Amen brother.

Like James Gattuso, I have a lot of questions about the Federal Trade Commission’s new “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising,” especially as they apply to bloggers. (And over at Silicon Angle, Mark ‘Rizzn’ Hopkins has been doing a great job keeping tabs on the many questions and hypothetical situations that others have been posing about the new rules). But the one thing I just can’t wrap my head around is how the FTC plans to enforce these rules against those speakers or media outlets who have print publications which are fully protected by the First Amendment.  So, I was pleased to see my favorite press critic Jack Shafer of Salon, ask the same question in his latest column on “The FTC’s Mad Power Grab”:

Because of a pesky thing called the First Amendment, the guidelines don’t apply to news organizations, which receive thousands of free books, CDs, and DVDs each day from media companies hoping for reviews. But if the guidelines don’t apply to established media like the New York Review of Books, which also happens to publish reviews on the Web, why should they apply to Joe Blow’s blog? Regulating bloggers via the FTC while exempting establishment reporters looks like a back-door means of licensing journalists and policing speech.

Exactly.  Is the FTC just going to ignore such speakers or media organizations but enforce against everyone else?  Isn’t that just a bit silly and radically unfair?  Moreover, might such a policy end up incentivizing some folks to create token print publications to get around such the regulations?  I doubt it, but you never know.

Regardless, as Shafer notes, the rules are so hopelessly open-ended and arbitrary that they are bound to pose problems for whomever they are enforced against:

The guidelines have to be read to be believed. They are written so broadly that if you blog about a good and service in such a way that the FTC construes as an endorsement, the commission has a predicate to investigate. The only way stay on the FTC’s good side is with a “clearly and conspicuously” posted disclosure of the “sponsors” who provided you with the good or service (or money) to blog about the good or service. As I read the guidelines, the FTC could investigate you if you did disclose but it was not satisfied with the disclosure.

I really do wonder if the FTC realized what they’ve gotten themselves into here.  The enforcement nightmare associated with all this cannot be underestimated.

A terrific Radio Berkman podcast this week on “Adventures in Anonymity” featuring Sam Bayard, a fellow at the Harvard Berkman Center and the Assistant Director of the Berkman Center’s Citizen Media Law Project.  Along with host Daniel Dennis Jones, Bayard discusses the intersection of anonymity, free speech, defamation law, privacy, and more.  In addition to sorting through the sticky legal and ethical issues, their discussion includes some really excellent historical perspectives on anonymous speech.  They also get into the recent “skank” blogger case and the AutoAdmit case.  I discussed those cases and some of these issues more generally in these essays:

• Randy Cohen’s “Guideline” for Anonymous Blogging: Ethical or Legal Matter?
• Guidelines & Best Practices for Anonymous Blogging (Pt.2)
• Anonymity, Reader Comments & Section 230
• The AutoAdmit Case and the Future of Sec. 230
• The Future of Sec. 230 and Online Immunity: My Debate with Harvard’s John Palfrey

In a post earlier this week, I discussed Randy Cohen’s “guideline” for anonymous blogging. Specifically, Cohen argued in a recent New York Times piece that, “The effects of anonymous posting have become so baleful that it should be forsworn unless there is a reasonable fear of retribution.  By posting openly, we support the conditions in which honest conversation can flourish.”  While sympathetic to that guideline, I noted I agreed with it as an ethical principle, not a legal matter.  In others words, what might make sense as a “best practice” for the Internet and its users would not make sense as a regulatory standard.  I prefer using social norms and public pressure to drive these standards, not regulation that could have an unintended chilling effect on beneficial forms of anonymous online speech.

Dan Gillmor of the Center for Citizen Media of the Harvard Berkman Center has a new column up at the UK Guardian in which he takes a slightly different cut at a new standard or social norm for dealing with some of the more caustic anonymous speech out there:

One of the norms we’d be wise to establish is this: People who don’t stand behind their words deserve, in almost every case, no respect for what they say. In many cases, anonymity is a hiding place that harbours cowardice, not honour. The more we can encourage people to use their real names, the better. But if we try to force this, we’ll create more trouble than we fix.  But we don’t want, in the end, to turn everything over to the lawyers. The rest of us — the audience, if you will — need to establish some new norms as well.

Specifically, Gillmor argues that, ” We need to readjust our internal BS meters in a media-saturated age,” because “We are far too prone to accepting what we see and hear.”  I think Gillmor has too little faith in most digital denizens; most of us take anonymous comments with a grain of salt and assume that the ugliest of those comments are often untrue.  And that’s generally the “principle” he recommends each of us adopt going forward:

When you read or hear an anonymous or pseudonymous attack on someone else, you should not just assume — barring persuasive evidence of the charge — that it’s false. Assume that the accuser is an outright, contemptible liar.

I am generally sympathetic to Gillmor’s principle, but I think he goes a bit overboard in asking us to assume that all anonymous or pseudonymous attacks are false. So, here’s a reformulation of it: We should discount, by at least some small measure, anonymous online speech that attacks others in a heated manner and which lacks supporting evidence for the assertions made or charges levied. However, the more heated or vicious the attack, the greater we should discount the veracity of the claims asserted.

Of course, this is simply a guideline for readers, not speakers or the sites that host online speech.  Each speaker will have to decide for themselves whether to post anonymously or reveal their identities. As I noted in my previous essay, however, I think it makes sense to generally encourage people to reveal their true identities when blogging or commenting.  I have always lived by that rule personally when blogging or posting comments on other sites, whether they are blogs, discussion boards, or even shopping sites.

For sites that host speech, things get trickier.  Luckily, we have Section 230 of the CDA to protect online operators from onerous forms of liability for the content they host on their sites, although some would like to change that. Also, as I’ve discussed here before, some critics of online anonymity would like to see “civility check” or “cooling off periods” instituted that would prevent instantaneous comments from being posted without some sort of human or automated review of the content.  But tweaking Sec. 230 liability norms or requiring “cooling off periods” for comments could have a profoundly chilling effect on many beneficial forms of online speech. As Gillmor wisely notes in his essay:

anonymity has crucially important value. We need it for whistleblowers, for political dissidents in dictatorships — for those who have important stories to tell but whose lives or livelihoods would be in jeopardy if their identities were exposed.

And one has to think through the mechanics of regulation before willy-nilly proposing to “ban anonymity” online.  As Gillmor points out, that could lead to some troubling outcomes:

People who’d ban anonymity don’t seem to realise that it’s technically impossible unless we’re willing to turn over all of our communications in every venue to a central authority — a system that would herald the end of liberty. They can’t really want such a regime, can they? Meanwhile, even that kind of structure could and would be hacked by motivated types, though with more difficulty.

That’s exactly right. Nonetheless, online speakers and websites shouldn’t just treat Sec. 230 as a “get-out-of-jail-free” card or let their anonymous speech rights go to their heads.  There’s nothing wrong with a little sensible site policing and self-regulation to deal with the baser elements of the blogosphere.

Randy Cohen, who pens “The Ethicist” column for The New York Times Magazine, wrote this week about the “skank case,” or the controversy surrounding the recent legal outing for an anonymous blogger who called fashion model Liskula Cohen a “psychotic, lying, whoring … skank.”   Thanks to a recent court decision, we now know that the blogger who uttered those words is Rosemary Port, a 29-year-old Fashion Institute of Technology student.  And she now apparently plans to sue Google for revealing her identity to the court. [As a shameful aside, can I just say that there has never been a nerdy Internet legal battle that involved two more smokin’ hot women than this! Sorry, I couldn’t resist pointing out the obvious.]

Reflecting on this catfight in his NY Times Magazine editorial, “Is It O.K. to Blog About This Woman Anonymously?” Randy Cohen asks:

Has anonymous posting, though generally protected by law, become so toxic that it should be discouraged? It has. To promote the social good of lively conversation and the exchange of ideas, transparency should be the default mode. […]

Here is a guideline. The effects of anonymous posting have become so baleful that it should be forsworn unless there is a reasonable fear of retribution.  By posting openly, we support the conditions in which honest conversation can flourish.

But Mr. Cohen never specifies whether he is talking about an ethical guideline or a legal guideline. There is a world of difference, of course.  As a matter of social or personal ethics, I think many of us would agree that anonymity “should be forsworn” and we should encourage people to “post openly.”   I always live by that rule myself when blogging or posting comments on other sites, whether they are blogs, discussion boards, or even shopping sites.  But that is my choice. I would not want that choice forced by law upon others.

Some might say, why not? Isn’t it just as good of a legal principle as a social norm? Absolutely not. The chilling effect would be substantial.  Of course, some would say, ‘Fine, we need to chill a little speech when that speech gets too heated or vulgar.’  But that’s a dangerous line we should be wary of asking judges to cross.  As is always the case in matters such as this, it comes down to a line-drawing exercise regarding what should constitute “acceptable speech.”

The better approach is to take Mr. Cohen’s “guideline” and push for its general acceptance for some (perhaps most) websites, but leave everyone free to decide whether anonymous posting and comments remain in place.  We don’t demand identification here at the TLF, for example, because we don’t necessarily mind what some shitheads (you know who you are!) will say about us or our views. But we certainly try to encourage people to self-identify by signing in first and “claiming” their comments.  Most do. A handful don’t. And still others do sign in but leave comments under a pseudonym.  I say let the various models continue to flourish across the web while also encouraging bloggers and websites to adopt Randy Cohen’s general rule as a website “best practice.”

Can self-regulation, social norms, public and press attention, and external pressure form others encourage some of the most vitriolic voices of the Net to moderate their tone?  Perhaps not.  With a platform like the Internet, you have to be willing to accept some silliness from those loonies who haven’t quite learned how to responsibly use this wonderful tool that has been put at their disposal.  But I will take this approach over the forced surrender of our anonymity any day of the week.

Other views: Dan Solove;  Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post;  Maureen Dowd of the New York Times; UK Guardian “Belle de Jour” column; Richard Korman of ZDNet; Chris Matyszczyk writing at CNet News; JR Raphael writing at PC World; Lance Ulanoff of PC Mag.com

I’ve been catching up on Radio Berkman, the podcast produced by our friends at the Berkman Center for Internet & Society and a great companion to the TLF’s own Tech Policy Weekly Podcast.  There’s been a lot of talk about government transparency on the TLF lately, including TPW 40: Obama, e-Government & Transparency.  But that conversation has been mainly focused on how to make “public” records accessible.

The most recent Radio Berkman episode, “Can you Keep a Secret?” explores the thorny questions about what should be deemed public in the first place, and what should be classified:

The government keeps secrets. We take that for granted. But should we? Some speculate that intelligence agencies and elected officials are a little bit trigger happy with the “Top Secret” stamp, and that society would benefit from greater openness. With the government classifying millions of pages of documents per year – in a recent year the U.S. classified about five times the number of pages added to the Library of Congress – a great deal of useful human knowledge gets put under lock and key. But some argue that secrecy is still crucial to our national security. Radio Berkman pokes its head into a recent talkback with the directors of the film  Secrecy, Harvard University professors Peter Galison and Robb Moss. They are joined by Harvard Law School professors Jonathan Zittrain, Martha Minow, and Jack Goldsmith.

I look forward to seeing the film (when it comes out on Netflix).  

What I found most interesting was the discussion of the essential trade-off in the relationship between the media and the state has always been between the media’s “independence” and its “responsibility” (~33:30 in).  Even the staunchest critics of the national security state would probably accept that there are some stories in the media shouldn’t publish because they’d jeopardize the safety of Americans.  But we all want the media to blow the whistle on the bad stuff that goes on behind a veil of secrecy.  Drawing that line is a terribly difficult task.  But it becomes even more complicated with the decline of traditional professional investigative journalism and the rise of blog/amateur journalism.  

I’m generally not very sympathetic to the chicken-littleism of those who bemoan the fact that journalism is being forced to evolve and innovate by technological change, but on this point, it does indeed seem more likely that the increasingly diffuse media will act less “responsibly” by running stories that really shouldn’t be run.  As one of the panelists points out, the problem is not so much that journalists (of whatever kind) don’t want to be responsible; it’s that they can’t possibly know enough about the context of their story to appreciate why publishing the story might be damaging in surprising ways (such as exposing the capability of U.S. spy satellites by publishing a photo of a Soviet tank).  In the “good” old days of media scarcity, the small number journalists whose beat touched on national security had the luxury of being able to think through their stories and having personal relationships with someone inside the government who could be relied on to tell them whether the story really shouldn’t be run or, even more importantly, which particular aspect of a story truly deserved secrecy.  

The panelists also touched on a separate danger:  the “independence” of media will suffer from economic dependence on the government.  Would a newspaper sucking at the teet of government bail-outs really have run photos of American soldiers torturing prisoners at Abu Ghraib, for example?  Herein lies a secondary danger of the rise of Internet journalism—that traditional media will become less effective watchdogs as their bottom line suffers and government starts to supplement income once provided by advertising revenue.  Were classified ads the very thing that kept newspapers independent?  What will happen if newspapers cannot shed their physical distribution costs, or find new sources of revenue in the form of smarter advertising, subscriptions, micro-payments or donations?  Adam Thierer has discussed these tough questions and others.

Other interesting points:

• Protective orders no longer offer an effective safety valve by which certain parties can gain access to classified materials because the ease of Internet publishing means that such orders too often lead to disclosure.
• 80% of leaks of classified documents are made by persons inside the Executive branch for political purposes (usually in order to advance a pet policy).  If that’s true, then maybe the “problem” (to the extent that leaks really are a problem, as some leaks certainly are) is more on the “supply” side (at the leaks’ source) and less on the “demand” side (investigative journalism).  If so, perhaps the ethics of journalistic responsibility matter less than we might think. 

The New York Times, that dinosaur of old media, is currently live-blogging the most important Congressional debate since that epochal, thoughtful discussion back in October 2002 as to whether Iraq posed a clear and present danger to the United States justifying a declaration of war—I mean, total non-debate that preceded Congress’s decision to issue President a blank checkthat has proved nearly as expensive as the blank check currently before the Congress.

The highlight of the debate thus far:

11:39 a.m. | No socialism!: After Jeb Hensarling, a Republican representative from Texas, affirmed that he was voting against the bill because it smacks of socialism and might represent limits on liberty, Barney Frank, a Democratic representative from Massachusetts, said that he is “ever mindful” that George Bush might “lead us down the road to socialism,” and so Congress would monitor the bailout closely.

Wow.  When Barney Frank, just about the closest thing to an avowed socialist in Congress after Bernie Sanders, warns about the dangers of a Republican president and supposed “free market” champion leading us down the “Road to (socialist) Serfdom,” we should all feel a terrible chill.  To paraphrase the over-paraphrased Yeats:

Surely some revelation is at hand Surely the Second Coming is at hand! … what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards [Washington] to be born?