The number of major cyberlaw and information tech policy books being published annually continues to grow at an astonishing pace, so much so that I have lost the ability to read and review all of them. In past years, I put together end-of-year lists of important info-tech policy books (here are the lists for 2008, 2009, 2010, and 2011) and I was fairly confident I had read just about everything of importance that was out there (at least that was available in the U.S.). But last year that became a real struggle for me and this year it became an impossibility. A decade ago, there was merely a trickle of Internet policy books coming out each year. Then the trickle turned into a steady stream. Now it has turned into a flood. Thus, I’ve had to become far more selective about what is on my reading list. (This is also because the volume of journal articles about info-tech policy matters has increased exponentially at the same time.)

So, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to discuss what I regard to be the five most important titles of 2012, briefly summarize a half dozen others that I’ve read, and then I’m just going to list the rest of the books out there. I’ve read most of them but I have placed an asterisk next to the ones I haven’t.  Please let me know what titles I have missed so that I can add them to the list. (Incidentally, here’s my compendium of all the major tech policy books from the 2000s and here’s the running list of all my book reviews.)

As I do each year, I need to repeat a few disclaimers.  First, what qualifies as an “important” info-tech policy book is highly subjective, but I would define it as a title that many people — especially scholars in the field — are currently discussing and that we will likely be referencing for many years to come.  But I “weight” books in the sense that narrowly-focused titles lose a few points. For example, books that deal mostly with privacy issues, copyright law, or antitrust policy are docked a few points relative to “big picture” info-tech policy books that offer a broader exploration of policy issues and which offer more wide-ranging recommendations.

Second, almost all of the books included have something profound to say about Internet policy (either directly or indirectly) and the more profound and clear the policy recommendations or implications, the higher the titles rank in terms of importance on my list.

Third, and most importantly: Just because a book appears on this list that does not necessarily mean I agree with everything in it.  In fact, as was the case in previous years, I found much with which to disagree in most of the books listed here. Simply put, the cyber-liberty I cherish is a real loser in both academic and public policy circles these days. It has very few defenders today. So, if this was simply a list of my personal favorite books, there would only be 2 or 3 titles on it. Instead, this is my effort to list important books in the field, regardless of whether I agree with the content and conclusions found in those titles.

OK, on to the list.

(1) Rebecca MacKinnon – Consent of the Network: The Worldwide Struggle for Internet Freedom

Rebecca MacKinnon’s book was the most important information technology policy book released in 2012 because it: (1) presented a splendid history of the ideas and forces shaping Internet policy debates globally; (2) offered policy insights that were extremely relevant to breaking developments in this field; and (3) set forth a call-to-arms to global Internet activists and gave them a new way of framing their issue advocacy.

MacKinnon is a former journalist and her outstanding reporting skills are on display throughout the text. Her coverage of China’s efforts to regulate the Net is outstanding. She also surveys some of the recent policy fights here and abroad over issues such as online privacy, Net neutrality regulation, free speech matters, and the copyright wars. The book demands attention for this historical work and analysis alone.

Even more importantly, however, MacKinnon makes a forceful argument for how to think about Internet freedom and democracy in new digital worlds. Her book is an attempt to take the Net freedom movement to the next level; to formalize it and to put in place a set of governance principles that will help us hold the “sovereigns of cyberspace” more accountable. Many of her proposals are quite sensible. But, as I noted in my much longer review of the book, I had a real problem with MacKinnon’s use of the term “digital sovereigns” or “sovereigns of cyberspace” and the loose definition of “sovereignty” that pervades her narrative. She too often blurs and equates private power and political power, and she sometimes leads us to believe that the problem of the dealing with the mythical nation-states of “Facebookistan” and “Googledom” is somehow on par with the problem of dealing with actual sovereign power — government power — over digital networks, online speech, and the world’s Netizenry.

Despite these nitpicks, MacKinnon has many other ideas about Net governance in the book that are less controversial and entirely sensible in my opinion. She wants to “expand the technical commons” by building and distributing more tools to help activists and make organizations more transparent and accountable. These would include circumvention and anonymization tools, software and programs that allow both greater data security and portability, and devices and network systems to expand the range of communication and participation, especially in more repressed countries. She would also like to see neitzens “devise more systematic and effective strategies for organizing, lobbying, and collective bargaining with the companies whose service we depend upon — to minimize the chances that terms of service, design choices, technical decisions, or market entry strategies could put people at risk or result in infringement of their rights.” This also makes sense as part of a broader push for improved corporate social responsibility.

Regarding the role of law, MacKinnon has a mixed view. She says: “There is a need for regulation and legislation based on solid data and research (as opposed to whatever gets handed to legislative staffers by lobbyists) as well as consultation with a genuinely broad cross-section of people and groups affected by the problem the legislation seeks to solve, along with those likely to be affected by the proposed solutions.” Of course, that’s a fairly ambiguous standard that could open the door to excessive political meddling with the Net if we’re not careful. Overall, though, she acknowledges how regulation so often lags far behind innovation. “A broader and more intractable problem with regulating technology companies is that legislation appears much too late in corporate innovation and business cycles,” she rightly notes.

MacKinnon’s book will be of great interest to Internet policy scholars and students, but it is also accessible to a broader audience interested in learning more about the debates and policies that will shape the future of the Internet and digital networks for many years to come. One other note: MacKinnon’s clearly-worded prose and cool-headed tone deserve praise and emulation. It serves as a model for how to write a thoughtful Internet policy book, even if you don’t agree with all her conclusions or recommendations.

My complete review of Consent of the Networked can be found here.

(2) Susan Crawford – Captive Audience: The Telecom Industry and Monopoly Power in the New Gilded Age

Susan Crawford’s book was probably my least favorite title of 2012, but that doesn’t mean I can discount its significance within this field. Crawford has made herself a widely-recognized and highly-charged figure in the world of Internet policy through her work as an activist, an academic, and even a government official. In Captive Audience, she doesn’t even try to hide her self-described “radicalized” views on communications policy anymore and in the process she solidifies her role as the ringleader of the growing movement to impose centralized, top-down government control on America’s broadband infrastructure.

What is most astonishing about Captive Audience is the way Crawford so audaciously waxes nostalgic for the days of regulated monopoly. Simply put, Crawford doesn’t believe that capitalism or competition have any role to play in the provision of broadband networks and services. “No competitive pressure will force these companies to act [in the public interest],” she argues on the last page of the manifesto. “Americans,” she claims, “have allowed a naive belief in the power and beneficence of the free market to cloud their vision.” She suggests we should just give up our false hope that markets can deliver such an important service and get on with the task of converting broadband into a full-blown regulated public utility.

Her proposed solutions read like the typical Big Government grab-bag of policy proposals: more government spending, more government ownership, and more government regulation (forced access regulation and rate controls) for any private carriers that are allowed to remain in operation as de facto handmaidens of the state. Crawford’s perfect world scenario would seem to be some sort of amalgam of the U.S. Postal Service and the federal highway program. While both programs have sought to provide an important service to the masses, it goes without saying that both are also an absolute basket case in terms of service management and economic viability. But, for the sake of argument, let’s say that Crawford is right and that public ownership and comprehensive government management is the way to go. Where will all this money come from for all the new government activity Crawford desires? Apparently it grows on trees because she isn’t ever willing to admit that we find ourselves in the midst of major fiscal crisis that likely constrains the ability of governments to make these investments themselves. Luckily, private wireline and wireless broadband providers have been investing tens of billions in infrastructural upgrades in recent years (don’t take my word for it, read what the Progressive Policy Institute has to say), a fact that Crawford conveniently ignores.

More importantly, Crawford never fully confronts the fact that the era of regulated monopoly she cherishes was an unmitigated croynist disaster for consumers. That era had nothing to do with the “public interest” and everything to do with protecting the private interests of regulated entities — namely, Ma Bell on the communications side and broadcasters on the media side. She also doesn’t address the lackluster state of innovation during the 70 or so years during which time communications and media markets were under the tight grip of federal and state regulators, who controlled rates, restricted new entry, and discouraged innovation at virtually every juncture. If one is going to recommend a return to the regulatory past, they had better grapple with that uncomfortable, anti-consumer, anti-innovation history. Crawford utterly fails to in Captive Audience.

While the book is nominally about broadband regulation, the bulk of it is actually dedicated to taking on one company — Comcast — and specifically picking apart its recent merger with NBC Universal. For Crawford, the Comcast-NBC deal represented something akin to the Mayan apocalypse of media policy. She wants us to believe that the deal has forever solidified Comcast’s grasp on both programming and broadband markets. Comcast chief Brian Roberts is presented as the nefarious villain of the narrative; Crawford paints him as a cross between Gordon Gecko and Mr. Burns from “The Simpsons.” Usually such neurotic narratives are reserved for Rupert Murdoch and how he is supposedly plotting mass media domination to brainwash the minds of the masses. But Crawford suggests that Roberts is the new Bond villain du jour and chapter after chapter are devoted to demonizing him, his father, and other execs at Comcast. She argues that “Comcast now owns the Internet in America” and that the company is “squeezing independent online video” providers out of the market.

Despite all this hand-wringing, the situation in the video marketplace has never looked brighter. Crawford fails to put things in historical perspective and examine consumer choices in this market today relative to the past — a point I made in this debate with her last year. Of course, she probably didn’t want to seriously examine that evidence because by every metric available — and I published an entire report called Media Metrics a few years ago proving this — Americans have more and better viewing options at their disposal than ever before in history. We have more channels and more content available over more platforms (cable, satellite, telco, online, DVD, mail, etc) and more devices than ever before. Consumers have an unprecedented ability to access, record, time-shift, interact with, and even manipulate and redistribute video content. Of course, all this choice and quality comes at a cost, as Crawford continuously complains throughout the text. Apparently, in her view, all these great new programming options and technologies should just fall to us like manna from heaven with no price tag attached.

If you want to see what the opposite of Internet freedom and digital capitalism looks like, look no further than this book. It is the definitive articulation of the cyber-planner’s ethos. Of course, that’s also what makes Captive Audience one of the most important books of 2012. But if you really must read such one-sided propaganda — since this book will, no doubt, be assigned in many cyberlaw and media studies classes across America — then I encourage you to also read Christopher Yoo’s Dynamic Internet and Randy May’s edited collection of essays on Communications Law and Policy in the Digital Age, both of which are mentioned below. Both of those books offer a refreshingly level-headed examination of the true state of this marketplace. I’d also recommend you check out these recent essays by Bret Swanson and Richard Bennett for a hard look at the shoddy numbers and assumptions underlying many of the broadband policy critiques you hear out there today from Crawford and others.

(3) John Palfrey & Urs Gasser – Interop: The Promise and Perils of Highly Interconnected Systems

What makes Palfrey & Gasser’s book so important is that the authors aim to develop “a normative theory identifying what we want out of all this interconnectivity” that the information age has brought us. They correctly note “there is no single, agreed-upon definition of interoperability” and that “there are even many views about what interop is and how it should be achieved.” Generally speaking, they argue increased interoperability — especially among information networks and systems — is a good thing because it “provides consumers greater choice and autonomy,” “is generally good for competition and innovation,” and “can lead to systemic efficiencies.”

But they wisely acknowledge that there are trade-offs, too, noting that “this growing level of interconnectedness comes at an increasingly high price.” Whether we are talking about privacy, security, consumer choice, the state of competition, or anything else, Palfrey and Gasser argue that “the problems of too much interconnectivity present enormous challenges both for organizations and for society at large.” Their chapter and privacy and security offers many examples, but one need only look around at their own digital existence to realize the truth of this paradox. The more interconnected our information systems become, and the more intertwined our social and economic lives become with those systems, the greater the possibility of spam, viruses, data breaches, and various types of privacy or reputational problems. Interoperability giveth and it taketh away.

Ultimately, however, the authors fail to develop a clear standard for when interoperability is good and when governments should take steps to facilitate or mandate it. They argue that “there is no single form or optimal amount of interoperability that will suit every circumstance” and that “most of the specifics of how to bring interop about [must] be determined on a case-by-case basis. Yet, Palfrey and Gasser also make it clear they want government(s) to play an active role in ensuring optimal interoperability. They say they favor “blended approaches that draw upon the comparative advantages of the private and public sector,” but they argue that government should feel free to tip or nudge interoperability determinations in superior directions to satisfy “the public interest.” “If deployed with skill,” they argue, “the law can play a central role in ensuring that we get as close as possible to optimal levels of interoperability in complex systems.”

The fundamental problem this “public interest” approach to interoperability regulation is that it is no better than the “I-know-it-when-I-see-it” standard we sometimes at work in the realm of speech regulation. It’s an empty vessel, and if it is the lodestar by which policymakers make determinations about the optimal level of interoperability, then it leaves markets, innovators, and consumers subject to the arbitrary whims of what a handful of politicians or regulators think constitutes “optimal interoperability,” “appropriate standards,” and “best available technology.”

In my absurdly long review of their book, I offered an alternative framework that suggests patience, humility, and openness to ongoing marketplace experimentation as the primary public policy virtues that lawmakers should instead embrace. Ongoing marketplace experimentation with technical standards, modes of information production and dissemination, and interoperable information systems, is almost always preferable to the artificial foreclosure of this dynamic process through state action. The former allows for better learning and coping mechanisms to develop while also incentivizing the spontaneous, natural evolution of the market and market responses. The latter (regulatory foreclosure of experimentation) limits that potential.

Defining “optimal interoperability,” is not just difficult as Palfrey and Gasser suggest, but I would argue that it is a pipe dream. Sometimes consumers demanded a certain amount interoperability and they usually get it. But it seems equally obvious that consumers don’t always demand perfect interoperability. Just look at your iPhone or Xbox for proof. Quite often, a lack of interoperability helps firms finance important new products and services while simultaneously ensuring users a tailored and potentially more secure and satisfying experience. Importantly, however, non-interoperability also spurs new forms of innovation from rivals looking to leap-frog the old front-runners. Progress flows from this never-ending cycle of technological change and industrial churn.

In sum, we cannot define or determine “optimal interoperability” in an a priori fashion; only ongoing experimentation can help us determine what truly lies in “the public interest.” Despite my different approach and conclusions, Palfrey and Gasser’s book perfectly frames what should be a very interesting ongoing debate over these issues and for that reason will be required reading on this subject for years to come.

Again, my longer review of Palfrey and Gasser’s book can be found here, and listen to John Palfrey’s podcast discussion with Jerry Brito here.]

(4) Christopher Yoo – The Dynamic Internet: How Technology, Users, and Businesses are Transforming the Network

Christopher Yoo’s book was my personal favorite of the year, but it won’t capture as much interest and recognition as some of the other titles on this list. The book offers a concise overview of how Internet architecture has evolved and a principled discussion of the public policies that should govern the Net going forward. Yoo makes two straight-forward arguments. First, the Internet is changing. In Part 1 of the book, Yoo offers a layman-friendly overview of the changing dynamics of Internet architecture and engineering. He documents the evolving nature of Internet standards, traffic management and congestion policies, spam and security control efforts, and peering and pricing policies. He also discusses the rise of peer-to-peer applications, the growth of mobile broadband, the emergence of the app store economy, and what the explosion of online video consumption means for ongoing bandwidth management efforts. Those are the supply-side issues. Yoo also outlines the implications of changes in the demand-side of the equation, such as changing user demographics and rapidly evolving demands from consumers. He notes that these new demand-side realities of Internet usage are resulting in changes to network management and engineering, further reinforcing changes already underway on the supply-side.

Yoo’s second point in the book flows logically from the first: as the Internet continues to evolve in such a highly dynamic fashion, public policy must as well. Yoo is particularly worried about calls to lock in standards, protocols, and policies from what he regards as a bygone era of Internet engineering, architecture, and policy. “The dramatic shift in Internet usage suggests that its founding architectural principles form the mid-1990s may no longer be appropriate today,” he argues. “[T]he optimal network architecture is unlikely to be static. Instead, it is likely to be dynamic over time, changing with the shifts in end-user demands,” he says. Thus, “the static, one-size-fits-all approach that dominates the current debate misses the mark.”

Yoo makes a particular powerful case for flexible network pricing policies. His outstanding chapter on “The Growing Complexity of Internet Pricing” offers an excellent overview of the changing dynamics of pricing in this arena and explains why experimentation with different pricing methods and business models must be allowed to continue. Getting pricing right is essential, Yoo notes, if we hope to ensure ongoing investment in new networks and services. He also notes how foolish it is to expect the government to come in and save the day thought massive infrastructure investment to cover the hundreds of billions of dollars needed to continue to build-out high-speed services.

Throughout the second half of his book, Yoo explains why it would be a disaster for consumers and high-tech innovation if policymakers limited pricing flexibility and experimentation with new business models and technological standards. He argues that public policy should generally seek to avoid ex ante forms of preemptive, prophylactic Internet regulation and instead rely on an ex post approach when and if things go wrong. Essentially, he wants policymakers to embrace “techno-agnosticism” toward ongoing debates over standards, protocols, business models, pricing methods, and so on. Lawmakers should not be preemptively tilting the balance in one direction or the other or, worse yet, restricting experimentation that can help us find superior solutions.

And even under that model of retrospective review, Yoo makes it clear throughout the book that there should be a very high bar established before any regulation is pursued. This is particularly true because of the First Amendment values at stake when the government attempts to regulate speech platforms. In Chapter 9 of the book, Yoo walks the reader through all the relevant case law on this front and makes it clear how “the Supreme Court has repeatedly recognized that the editorial discretion exercised by intermediaries serves important free speech values.” Yoo also makes the case that a certain degree of intermediation helps serve consumer needs by helping them more easily find the content and services they desire. Law should not seek to constrain that and, under current Supreme Court First Amendment jurisprudence, it probably cannot.

To me, Yoo’s approach strikes the right balance for Net governance and public policy in the information age. It all comes down to flexibility and freedom. If the Internet and all modern digital technologies are to thrive, we must reject the central planner’s mindset that dominated the analog era and forever bury all the static thinking it entailed.

My complete review of Yoo’s Dynamic Internet is here.

(5) Brett Frischmann – Infrastructure: The Social Value of Shared Resources

Frischmann’s book offers a nice contrast with Yoo’s in that it suggests a far more ambitious role for the state in shaping the future of digital networks and online platforms. Although not strictly a book about information technology infrastructure, Frischmann spends a great deal of time making the case for a greater government action in the realm of communications policy and for open access and Net neutrality regulation in particular. (There’s also a chapter on intellectual property issues that tech policy wonks will find of interest). The book is a veritable paean to open access regulation; Frischmann aims to persuade the reader that “society is better off sharing infrastructure openly” and devotes considerable energy to hammering that point home in one context after another.

In my review of the book, which was part of 2-day symposium on the book over at the Concurring Opinions blog, I took Frischmann’s book to task for its almost complete absence of public choice insights and his general disregard for thorny “supply-side” questions.  Frischmann is so single-mindedly focused on making the “demand-side” case for better appreciating how open infrastructures “generate spillovers that benefit society as a whole” and facilitate various “downstream productive activities,” that he short-changes the supply-side considerations regarding how infrastructure gets funded and managed to begin with.

The book also ignored the omnipresent threat of regulatory capture and the fact that any major infrastructure regulatory system big enough and important to be captured by special interests and affected parties often will be. Frischmann acknowledges the problem of capture in just a single footnote in the book and admits that “there are many ways in which government failures can be substantial,” but he asks the reader to quickly dispense with any worries about government failure since he believes “the claims rest on ideological and perhaps cultural beliefs rather than proven theory or empirical fact.”  I found that assertion outrageous and argued that, to the contrary, decades of scholarship has empirically documented the reality of government failure and its costs to society, as well as the plain old-fashioned inefficiency often associated with large-scale government programs. For infrastructure projects in particular, the combination of these public choice factors usually adds up to massive inefficiencies and cost overruns.

For those reasons, I argued in my review that society would be better off adopting a “3-P” approach to infrastructure management: privatize, property-tize, and price. But Frischmann is dead set against such thinking and makes it clear that everything must be subservient to the goal of “openness” and commons-based management. Unsurprisingly, therefore, this leads him to suggest that we need “a dramatic shift — perhaps a paradigm shift — away from the conventional position favoring market provisioning and markets ‘free’ from government intervention.” But the problem with that reasoning, as I pointed out in my review, is that most of the infrastructure that Frischmann cites as failing us today is already managed in the fashion he favors! Nonetheless, he wants to pile on still more commons-based government control / ownership solutions even though they are the primary cause of our infrastructure problems today. In this sense, Frischmann’s approach parallels Susan Crawford’s in her book Captive Audience, discussed above. They both seek to gloss over the ugly realities of traditional public infrastructure (mis-)management and they imply that we just need to build a better breed of bureaucrats who will somehow be immune to all the problems of the past. Needless to say, I don’t place much faith in such efforts.

Despite these serious deficiencies, students and scholars studying infrastructure theory will benefit from Frischmann’s excellent treatment of public goods and social goods; spillovers and externalities; proprietary versus commons systems management; common carriage policies and open access regulation; congestion pricing strategies; and the debate over price discrimination for infrastructural resources. He at least does a nice job outlining these concepts and controversies, even if he ultimately fails to make the case for radically expanding government control of infrastructural resources.

Again, you can read my entire review of Frischmann’s book here.

— Other Major Releases in 2012 —

Julie E. Cohen – Configuring the Networked Self: Law, Code, and the Play of Everyday Practice

Cohen’s book represents an effort to move “beyond the bounds of traditional liberal political theory” by transcending what she labels the traditional “information-as-freedom” versus “information-as-control” paradigms. Her aim is to promote “cultural environmentalism” and “the structural conditions of human flourishing.” She argues that “a commitment to human flourishing demands a more critical stance toward the market-driven evolution of network architectures.” In other words, don’t trust markets.

I didn’t find her case very convincing and it didn’t help that the book is filled with impenetrable prose that sometimes leaves the reader’s head a bit numb. (Two representative samples: “With respect to space, surveillance employs a twofold dynamic of containerization and affective modulation in order to pursue large-scale behavioral modification.” … and… “Here the performative impulse introduces static into the circuits of the surveillant assemblage; it seeks to reclaim bodies and reappropriate spaces.” Say what? Write in plain English, professor!)

The closing chapter also includes a strange reinterpretation of Ludditism. Cohen argues: “the tale of the Luddites poses an important challenge for scholars and policy makers in the emerging networked information society. If technologies do not have natural trajectories, it is our obligation to seek pathways of development that promote the well-being of situated, embodied users and communities. When our preferred policy prescriptions persistently produce information architectures and institutions that undermine human flourishing in critical ways, it is time to question them and to experiment with ways of doing better.”  Hmmm… I’m not sure I want to know what that would mean in practice!

Regardless, Cohen’s book has a lot to say about modern privacy and copyright battles and will be of great interest to scholars in those specific fields of study.  You can find all the chapters online here.

Cole Stryker – Hacking the Future: Privacy, Identity, and Anonymity on the Web

Stryker’s Hacking the Future provides a concise overview of the battles over online anonymity that have raged since the Net’s early days and he outlines the many new threats to it. “What we are seeing is an all-out war on anonymity, and thus free speech, waged by a variety of armies with widely diverse motivations, often for compelling reasons,” he says. The book will be a great use to those covering ongoing policy debates over cybersecurity, the “nymwars” and online authentication / identification debates, post-Arab Spring political activism & “hactivism,” encryption issues, social networking privacy, troll culture and cyberbullying, and much more. Stryker makes a strong case for the continuing importance of online anonymity but isn’t scared to ask hard questions about the trade-offs society faces when some can mask their online identities. But he also explores the question of whether anonymity can survive given recent technological and policy-related developments, both of which aim to make individuals more identifiable online. I particularly enjoyed Chapter 10’s breakdown of the “Faces of Anonymity,” in which Stryker crafts a detailed taxonomy of anonymous character types online.

He also offers a run-down of the tools and steps that people can take advantage of if they want to ensure their anonymity / privacy online, including: cookie blocking, private browsing tools, disabling HTML in email and limiting or disabling broswer extensions, clearing browser histories, and using encryption tools, proxy servers, and VPN tunneling. “The question we have to ask ourselves,” Stryker notes, is “Does the accessibility of these anonymizing technologies make the world a safer, more equitable place, better place?” He answers: “It’s difficult to measure, but their abolition certainly wouldn’t.” He also draws this interesting parallel with efforts to regulate firearms: “The logic here is not unlike that used by those who oppose gun control: if guns are made illegal, then only criminals will have guns, leaving well-meaning folks defenseless. The reasoning is compelling within the identity space,” he argues, “regardless of what you might think about the merits of gun control.”

Two other notes: First, Wide Open Privacy: Strategies For The Digital Life by J.R. Smith & Siobhan MacDermott makes a nice compliment to Hacking the Future. It also offers a breakdown of privacy-enhancing technologies and outlines other strategies to safeguard your online anonymity. Second, if you are interested in digging even deeper in the Luzsec side of this story, you should check out Parmy Olson’s W e are Anonymous: Inside the Hacker Wor ld of Lulzsec, Anonymous and the Global Cyber Insurgency. It’s a splendid history but doesn’t have as much to say about the various policy issues that Stryker tackles in Hacking the Future. Or just listen to Olson’s podcast discussion with Jerry Brito. Speaking of that Brito character…

Jerry Brito (ed.) – Copyright Unbalanced: From Incentive to Excess

My Mercatus Center colleague Jerry Brito put together this important collection of essays by various conservatives and libertarian authors to highlight growing concerns about copyright policy. Contributors include Tom W. Bell, David G. Post, Reihan Salam, Patrick Ruffini, Tim Lee, Christina Mulligan, and Eli Dourado (also of Mercatus). Their essays suggest that the tide may be turning against copyright among free market analysts. Their chapters explore the increasingly complexity of copyright law and the rising costs associated with its enforcement and make a powerful case for reform of, or at least restraints on, the current copyright system. The consensus seemed to revolve around a few key reforms: significantly shortened copyright terms, the reintroduction of formalities (i.e., registration), and limits on criminal prosecution and civil asset forfeiture. The authors also make a strong case that public choice problems pervade today’s copyright system and that we should be concerned that cronyism is increasing creeping into the politics of copyright law and its seemingly endless expansion.

If you interested in a different take on IP issues to balance out Brito’s collection, I’d recommend picking up the forthcoming Laws of Creation: Property Rights in the World of Ideas by Ronald A. Cass and Keith N. Hylton. It’s a 2013 release but it is already in stock. I’m reading an advance copy from the publisher right now and will likely have more to say about it in a forthcoming post.

Randolph J. May (ed.) – Communications Law and Policy in the Digital Age: The Next Five Years

My former colleague Randy May put together this nice collection of essays by some of America’s leading communications and media policy scholars, including Bruce Owen, Christopher Yoo, James Speta, Daniel Lyons and others. The authors offer a generally skeptical take on the expansion of communications and broadband regulation and the growing power of the Federal Communications Commission over these markets. In particular, many of the contributors take the FCC to task for sketchy assertions of jurisdiction and the agency’s efforts to expand its imperial regulatory ambitions without always having the clear statutory authority to do so. The chapters by James Speta and Seth Cooper are particularly good in that regard. Admin law geeks will eat them up.

Those analysts following the ongoing Net neutrality wars will also find the book informative, even if they disagree with the generally skeptical take on the issue from contributors. Spectrum and universal service policy wonks will also appreciate the excellent chapters on those two issues from Michele P. Connolly and Daniel A. Lyons, respectively. And the closing chapter by Bruce Owen is, like everything Bruce does, a masterpiece. Owen is probably the most respected media economist on the planet and his decades of experience in this field shines through in his powerful essay on “Communications Policy Reform, Interest Groups, and Legislative Capture.” He crafts a political economy of the regulatory state and points out that the explosion of rent-seeking and legislative/regulatory capture in this sector is unlikely to dissipate. “Therefore,” Owen argues, “communications policy likely will continue to be subject to welfare-suppressing regulation because such regulation is consistent with the interests of legislators,” who are often beholden to special interests and their campaign dollars.

Joshua Gans – Information Wants to Be Shared

I really enjoyed this book. It’s an insightful exploration of modern media economics filled with interesting questions and scenarios about how information markets will evolve in the future. What will sustain movies, music, book, local reporting, and so on in the future? Gans does a terrific job making these issues easy to understand and doesn’t try to evangelize as much as the many others who have written on these issues. If you’ve read and enjoyed Carl Shapiro and Hal Varian’s classic text, Information Rules, then you will find Gans’ book to be the perfect compliment.

Gans doesn’t have a lot to say about public policy, however. This is really more of a business book suited for industry analysts and business school students. Nonetheless, some of its implications for policy are clear since many of these business model debates boil over into the policy arena.

P.S. I should mention that, even if you don’t pick up his new book, you should be following Gans’ “Digitopoly” blog. It is always worth reading.

Andrew Keen – Digital Vertigo: How Today’s Online Social Revolution Is Dividing, Diminishing, and Disorienting Us

If you’re into ‘the-whole-world-is-going-to-Hell-and-the-Internet-is-to-blame’ screeds, Andrew Keen will never disappoint. In Digital Vertigo as well as his earlier book, The Cult of the Amateur, Keen is grumpy about, well, just about everything under the sun. In the earlier book, it was the Web 2.0 world of blogging and “amateur” content creation — most notably Wikipedia and YouTube — that earned Keen’s wrath. In the new book, it is users themselves and the social sharing sites and technologies that they favor that Keen goes off on.

Specifically, Keen is worried that our increased reliance on new online and interactive technologies is spawning a “hypervisible age of great exhibitionism” that sacrifices privacy and individuality at the altar of sharing and social status-seeking. He also makes sweeping claims that we are now living in “a world in which many of us have forgotten what it means to be human,” or that “we are forgetting who we really are.” As I noted in my Forbes review of the book, it’s classic technopanic talk. Not only does Keen fail to substantiate such claims, but he also doesn’t bother to even offer the reader any sort of practical plan for how to achieve a more balanced digital life.

Bruce Schneier – Liars & Outliers: Enabling the Trust that Society Needs to Thrive

Security expert Bruce Schneier’s latest book was a terrific read and easily one of my favorites of the year. It wasn’t a book about technology policy per se, but it certainly has important ramifications for it. Schneier explains four “societal pressures” combine to help create and preserve trust within society. Those pressures include: (1) Moral pressures; (2) Reputational pressures; (3) Institutional pressures; and (4) Security systems. By “dialing in” these societal pressures in varying degrees, trust is generated over time within groups. Of course, these societal pressures also fail on occasion, Schneier notes. He explores a host of scenarios — in organizations, corporations, and governments — when trust breaks down because defectors seek to evade the norms and rules the society lives by. These defectors are the “liars and outliers” in Schneier’s narrative and his book is an attempt to explain the complex array of incentives and trade-offs that are at work and which lead some humans to “game” systems or evade the norms and rules others follow.

Indeed, Schneier’s book serves as an excellent primer on game theory as he walks readers through complex scenarios such as prisoner’s dilemma, the hawk-dove game, the free-rider problem, the bad apple effect, principle-agent problems, the game of chicken, race to the bottom, capture theory, and more. These problems are all quite familiar to economists, psychologists, and political scientists, who have spent their lives attempting to work through these scenarios. Schneier has provided a great service here by making game theory more accessible to the masses and given it practical application to a host of real-world issues.

The most essential lesson Schneier teaches us is that perfect security is an illusion, and this is where the implications for tech policy come in. We can rely on those four societal pressures in varying mixes to mitigate problems like theft, terrorism, fraud, online harassment, and so on, but it would be foolish and dangerous to believe we can eradicate such problems completely. “There can be too much security,” Schneier explains, because, at some point, constantly expanding security systems and policies will result in rapidly diminishing returns. Trying to eradicate every social pathology would bankrupt us and, worse yet, “too much security system pressure lands you in a police state,” he correctly notes.

Despite these challenges, Schneier reminds us that there is cause for optimism. Humans adapt better to social change than they sometimes realize, usually by tweaking the four societal pressures Schneier identifies until a new balance emerges. While liars and outliers will always exist, society will march on.

See my longer review of Schneier’s excellent book over at Forbes. I highly recommend you pick up Liars & Outliers no matter what your field of study. It is outstanding.

… and still more titles from 2012 (* asterisk means I didn’t find time to finish them)…

• E. Gabriella Coleman – Coding Freedom: The Ethics and Aesthetics of Hacking *
• Sean A. Pager & Adam Candeub (eds.) – Transnational Culture in the Internet Age *
• John Naughton – From Gutenberg to Zuckerberg: What You Really Need to Know about the Internet
• Erik Brynjolfsson & Andrew McAfee – Race Against the Machine: How the Digital Revolution is Accelerating Innovation, Driving Productivity, and Irreversibly Transforming Employment and the Economy [listen to McAfee’s podcast discussion with Jerry Brito]
• Chris Reed – Making Laws for Cyberspace *
• J.R. Smith & Siobhan MacDermott – Wide Open Privacy: Strategies For The Digital Life
• Virginia Eubanks – Digital Dead End: Fighting for Social Justice in the Information Age *
• Lori Andrews – I Know Who You Are and I Saw What You Did: Social Networks and the Death of Privacy
• Hassan Masum and Mark Tovey (eds.) – The Reputation Society: How Online Opinions Are Reshaping the Offline World *
• Reed Hundt & Blair Levin – The Politics of Abundance: How Technology Can Fix the Budget, Revive the American Dream, and Establish Obama’s Legacy *
• Kal Raustiala & Christopher Sprigman – The Knockoff Economy: How Imitation sparks Innovation* [listen to Sprigman’s podcast discussion with Jerry Brito]
• Jason Mazzone, Copyfraud and Other Abuses of Intellectual Property Law * [listen to Mazzone’s podcast discussion with Jerry Brito]
• Clay A. Johnson – The Information Diet: A Case for Conscious Consumption
• Julian Assange – Cypherpunks: Freedom and the Future of the Internet
• Andy Greenberg – This Machine Kills Secrets: How WikiLeakers, Cypherpunks, and Hacktivists Aim to Free the World’s Information

… and, again, here are the lists of important books from 2008, 2009, 2010, and 2011.

I recently finished Tyler Cowen’s latest book, Create Your Own Economy: The Path to Prosperity in a Disordered World.  Like everything he writes, this book is worth reading and it will be of interest to those who follow technology policy debates since Cowen makes a passionate case for “Internet optimism” in the face of recent criticisms of the Internet and the Information Age in general.

Cowen is a Professor of Economics at George Mason University and the co-author, along with Alex Tabarrok, of the wonderful  MarginalRevolution.com blog.  And if you haven’t read Cowen’s In Praise of Commercial Culture, stop what you’re doing and go get yourself a copy right now. Brilliant book.  Compared to that book, Create Your Own Economy is a difficult book to summarize.  Seriously, this book is all over the place… but in a good way.  Even though it sometimes feels like “Tyler’s Miscellaneous Ramblings,” those ramblings will keep you engaged and entertained.  Cord Blomquist did a pretty good job of summarizing the general themes of the book in this post two months ago when he noted that, “despite cultural reflexes that would have us do otherwise, we should embrace… new technologies as means to be more selective about what information we absorb and therefore welcome the increased volume of bytes into our lives.  In his new book, [Cowen] explores technology as a vehicle to help you determine what you really value, not a series of a email-powered torture devices.”  That’s a pretty good summation, but the book is about much more than that.

Instead of a full-blown review, I want to focus on some of passages from Cowen’s book about coping with information overload, which I think readers here might find of interest. In doing so, I will contrast Cowen’s views with those of John Freeman, who just penned “A Manifesto for Slow Communication” in The Wall Street Journal. As we will see, Cowen and Freeman’s differences exemplify the heated ongoing debate taking place among “Internet optimists &  pessimists,” which I have discussed here many times before.  

My favorite chapter of Cowen’s book is entitled, “Why Modern Culture is Like Marriage, In All Its Glory.”  In it, Cowen takes on those who claim citizens are now being overwhelmed by a deluge of digital information, or are suffering from “information overload.”  In particular, Cowen addresses criticisms such as those leveled by social critics like Nick Carr, who penned a widely-read Atlantic article last year entitled, “Is Google Making Us Stupid?”  Cowen responds:

[Carr] missed how people can construct wisdom — and long-term dramatic interest in their own self-education–from accumulating, collecting, and ordering small bits of information. What we’re growing impatient with is bits that are fed to us and that we really do not want. Contrary to Carr, we still have a long attention span when it comes to the broader picture, and if anything Google lengthens our attention span by allowing us to follow the same story over many years’ time. (p. 54)

Additionally, Cowen points out, search tools like Google and other information gathering and processing technologies actually “lengthens our attention spans in another way, namely by allowing greater specialization of knowledge”:

We don’t have to spend as much time looking up various facts and we can focus on the particular areas of interest, if only because general knowledge is so readily available.  It’s never been easier to wrap yourself up in a long-term intellectual project, yet without losing touch with the world around you. As for information overload, it is you who chooses how much “stuff” you want to experience and how many small bits you want to put together. […]  The quantity of information coming our way has exploded, but so has the quality of our filters. (p. 55)

This is an important point and one made previously by Chris Anderson in The Long Tail. I was a bit surprised that Cowen failed to reference him on this point.  Anderson defined filters as “the catch-all phrase for recommendations and all the other tools that help you find quality in the Long Tail” and noted that “these technologies and services sift through a vast array of choices to present you with the ones that are most right for you.” (p. 108 of 2006 hardback edition)  “The job of filters is to screen out [the] noise” (p. 115) or all the information clutter (crap?) that is out there.

Cowen argues that the filtering technologies are getting better at this sifting and processing process, but so too are humans, he says.  The key to this, he argues, is that we are getting better are “ordering” information.  And something real exciting (other might say scary!) is happening to us:

Fundamentally the relationship between human minds and human cultures is changing. … There is quite literally a new plane for organizing human thoughts and feelings and we are jumping on these opportunities at an unprecedented pace.  (p. 9)  […] For a typical person, you encounter the web, and you feel overwhelmed, but you figure out how to impose some local coherence in your own way, if only by using Google search or going to your “favorite places” bookmarks.  You resort to some mental ordering, usually with the aid of technology. At first you’re just struggling to keep up, but the more time you spend on the web, the more you are in control. You move from bookmarks to Facebook to Twitter and then to hyper-specialized sites for ordering the details of your life. You move from bewilderment to a sense of increasing mastery. Economists have studies our species as homo economicus, and a few decades ago, when social science colleagues investigated our game-playing nature, homo ludens was born. Today a new kind of person creates his or her very own economy in his or her head.  The age of homo ordo is upon us. (p. 13)

Cowen is firmly aligning himself with what I have referred to as the “Internet Optimist” school of thinking.  As I pointed out in my “Internet Optimists vs. Internet Pessimists” essay last September, recent commentators on the impact of Internet on culture and economics tend to fall into one of these two camps.  There’s very little middle ground.

The optimists argue that the Internet and Information Age are improving the general lot of mankind and bringing about a better order.  Even if some norms and institutions are being forced to adapt or disappear, that’s a small price to pay for the amazing advancements that the Internet has brought us.  The Internet pessimists see things quite differently.  Net skeptics such as the late Neil Postman, Carr, Andrew Keen, Lee Siegel, and Mark Helprin have argued that the Internet is destroying popular culture and professional media, that it is calling “truth” and “authority” into question by over-glamorizing amateurism and user-generated content, and that increased personalization and customization is damaging deliberative democracy by leading to homogenization, close-mindedness, and an online echo-chamber. Here’s the chart I used in a previous essay to highlight the differences between these two camps:

Now joining the ranks of the skeptics is John Freeman, the acting editor of Granta magazine and the author of the forthcoming book, The Tyranny of E-mail: The Four-Thousand-Year Journey to Your Inbox, which is due out in October.  As mentioned above, an excerpt from the book appeared in weekend edition of The Wall Street Journal. In that essay, Freeman makes an eloquent case that we should all take a collective pause and consider what the Internet and all this information and digital gadgetry means for life and how we live it:

In the past two decades, we have witnessed one of the greatest breakdowns of the barrier between our work and per­sonal lives since the notion of leisure time emerged in Victorian Britain as a result of the Industrial Age. It has put us under great physical and mental strain, altering our brain chemistry and daily needs. It has isolated us from the people with whom we live, siphoning us away from real-world places where we gather. It has encouraged flotillas of unnecessary jabbering, making it difficult to tell signal from noise. It has made it more difficult to read slowly and enjoy it, hastening the already declining rates of literacy. It has made it harder to listen and mean it, to be idle and not fidget. This is not a sustainable way to live. This lifestyle of being constantly on causes emotional and physical burnout, work­place meltdowns, and unhappiness. How many of our most joyful memories have been created in front of a screen? If we are to step off this hurtling machine, we must reassert principles that have been lost in the blur. It is time to launch a manifesto for a slow communication movement, a push back against the machines and the forces that encourage us to remain connected to them. Many of the values of the Internet are social improvements—it can be a great platform for solidarity, it rewards curiosity, it enables convenience. This is not the mani­festo of a Luddite, this is a human manifesto. If the technology is to be used for the betterment of human life, we must reassert that the Internet and its virtual information space is not a world unto itself but a supplement to our existing world…

I take Freeman at his word that he is not out to pen a Luddite manifesto and I very much  look forward to reading his book.  I do hope he makes a better case than some other Internet skeptics — especially Keen, Siegel, and Helprin — who have unfortunately crossed that Luddite line with their tedious, anti-all-things-digital screeds.  Simply stated, the pessimists need a better spokesman.  They raise valid concerns that deserve to be taken seriously and yet it is extremely difficult to take them seriously when they persist in their seeming outright hostility to almost all technological change. The skeptics need a more balanced, less fanatical approach to addressing concerns about the Information Age and information overload.  I hope Mr. Freeman can provide it.  I look forward to his book to see if he has.

Nonetheless, I generally side with Cowen and the Internet optimists — at least when it comes to concerns about information overload.  I guess I have have a bit more faith in humans than the pessimists do. We humans adapt. We learn to cope. We’re actually pretty good at it, too. It’s not like this is the first social or technological revolution we’ve lived through, after all.  In fact, one could make a good case that many previous revolutions were far more jarring than our modern Digital Revolution.

Of course, that’s not to say that change can’t be gut-wrenching and destructive — of both economies and cultures. When I engage in debate with conservative-minded friends about the supposed destructive influences of new forms of pop culture (rock-and-roll or video games, for example), I don’t deny that new media and communications technologies alter culture and behavior in many ways, some negative. But, again, we adapt and learn to cope. The world goes on. It doesn’t get better in every way, but it does in most. I love industrial rock music and violent video games.  Am I a bad person? An uniformed one?  Well, guess what… there are millions out there like me who are getting along just fine, raising a family, holding down steady work, and being good little community citizens.  Perhaps I would swear less if I didn’t grow up listening to punk rock. Then again, my dad and his dad hated all forms of rock music but swore like sailors with their pants on fire.

Regardless, even if you align with the skeptics and believe that, on balance, things (speech, culture, communications, or whatever else) are getting worse because of the Internet and digital media, it begs the obvious questions: What, exactly do you want to do about it?  While I can appreciate the concerns raised by social and technological critics such as Mr. Freeman, they rarely seem to be willing to explain how far they would go to reverse whatever problem it is they have identified.  As Ben Casnocha pointed out in this excellent review of Tyler Cowen’s book, which appeared in The American:

The factor most in Cowen’s favor is the wind at the backs of all techno-optimists like his brethren Clay Shirky and Don Tapscott: the forward momentum of technological development. You cannot turn back the clock. It is impossible to envision a future where there is less information and fewer people on social networks. It is very possible to envision increasing abundance along with better filters to manage it. The most constructive contributions to the debate, then, heed Moore’s Law in the broadest sense and offer specific suggestions for how to harness the change for the better.

I generally agree with Mr. Casnocha except I would argue that, at least in theory, it would be possible to turn back the clock with repressive enough means.  About the closest that any of the Internet pessimists ever came to explaining what that might mean in practice was this 2007 article by Andrew Keen in Advertising Age in which he claimed that the only way to save traditional media outlets and their advertising support mechanisms was to “re-create media scarcity”:

That means less user-generated content and more professionally created information and entertainment, less technology and more creativity. The advertising community desperately needs more gatekeepers, more professional creative authorities, more so-called media “elites” who will curate, filter and organize content. That’s the way to re-establish the value of the message. It’s the one commercial antidote to Web 2.0’s radically destructive cultural democracy.

One wonders, how we go about “re-creating scarcity” in this sense. Who exactly brings in the regulatory wrecking ball and starts tearing down digital abundance?  And is that really a sensible solution?  Instead of calling for solutions that would be both intrusive and destructive, can’t we embrace the best of the modern digital age and try to temper its worst elements using other means?

The problem with the Internet optimists, by contrast, is that they only tend to see the upside of the Information Age. They sometimes fall into the trap of being pollyannas who look out at the unfolding landscape and see only rainbows in the air. Optimists need to place technological progress in context and appreciate that, as Neil Postman argued in Technopoly, there are some moral dimensions to technological progress that deserve attention. For example, if Cowen is correct that “the age of homo ordo is upon us” and we humans are now engaging in unprecedented amount of sorting, organizing, categorizing, and so on, is that entirely salubrious? Or, as the pessimists suggest, might there be downsides to that development worth exploring?

But the pessimists need to refocus their concerns and criticisms into more level-headed, practical prescriptions instead of going off the Luddite deep-end with talk of “re-creating scarcity” or “destroying the machine,” as Siegel and Helprin say.  Toward that end, I like a lot of the advice that John Freeman offers in closing of  his essay:

We need context in order to live, and if the environment of electronic communication has stopped providing it, we shouldn’t search online for a solution but turn back to the real world and slow down. To do this, we need to uncouple our idea of progress from speed, separate the idea of speed from effi­ciency, pause and step back enough to realize that efficiency may be good for business and governments but does not always lead to mindfulness and sustainable, rewarding relationships. We are here for a short time on this planet, and reacting to demands on our time by simply speeding up has canceled out many of the benefits of the Internet, which is one of the most fabulous technological inventions ever conceived. We are connected, yes, but we were before, only by gossamer threads that worked more slowly. Slow communication will preserve these threads and our ability to sensibly choose to use faster modes when necessary. It will also preserve our sanity, our families, our relationships and our ability to find happiness in a world where, in spite of the Internet, saying what we mean is as hard as it ever was. It starts with a simple instruction: Don’t send.

At times, I have talked here about my attempts to strike a more sensible balance between my online and offline lives. After my two kids were born, I became acutely aware of the need to take more “digital sabbaticals” or a weekly “technology Sabbath.”  I now try to find specific moments each day to shut the lid on my laptop, toss my mobile phone in the drawer, and turn off all my other digital gizmos and gadgets and just go do something terribly old-fashion or archaic.  Alas, the struggle continues. Even when I swear off digital gadgets or connectivity for a few hours, I still find myself sneaking a peak at e-mail traffic piling up on my phone.

In closing, as an information historian, I find this debate between the Internet optimists and pessimists incredibly interesting. Indeed, we can trace the intellectual roots of this struggle all the way back to the well-known allegorical tale from Plato’s Phaedrus about the dangers of the written word and the great debate between the god Theuth and King Thamus. When Theuth boasted of how his invention of writing would improve the wisdom and memory of the masses relative to the oral tradition of learning, King Thamus shot back, “the discoverer of an art is not the best judge of the good or harm which will accrue to those who practice it.”  King Thamus then passed judgment himself about the impact of writing on society, saying he feared that the people “will receive a quantity of information without proper instruction, and in consequence be thought very knowledgeable when they are for the most part quite ignorant.” (Of course, I’d like to think that Theuth got the better of that one!)

And so the great debate about the impact of technological change on culture, learning, and morality continues.  And don’t expect it to ever end.  Just wait till virtual reality technology goes mainstream!  Oh my, that’s going to bring out a whole new batch of Theuthian technophiles and Thamusian technophobes.  And I greatly look forward to the discussion.

P.S. I have a lengthy article in the works entitled, ” Theuth, Thamus & the Great Debate over Technology & Culture,” and I’m currently looking for a publisher.  If anyone out there is interested, please let me know!  It will build on what I have said in this essay as well as those below:

• Grouping Recent Net Books: Internet Optimists vs. Pessimists
• The Pragmatic (Internet) Optimist’s Creed
• Book Review: Nick Carr’s Big Switch
• Book Review: Lee Siegel’s Against the Machine
• Thoughts on Andrew Keen, Part 1: Why an Age of Abundance Really is Better than an Age of Scarcity
• Thoughts on Andrew Keen, Part 2: The Dangers of the Stasis Mentality
• Book Review: Digital Barbarism by Mark Helprin
• Review of Cass Sunstein’s Republic.com (in Regulation magazine)

In a previous essay, I critiqued Andrew Keen’s thesis that our culture was better off in the age of scarcity than it is in today’s world of media and cultural abundance. In this essay, I want to make a few comments about his latest anti-Web 2.0 rant regarding how, in addition to destroying art and culture, the age of abundance and “amateur” content creation is going to result in the death of advertising.

In an AdWeek guest editorial this week, Keen argues that:

Web 2.0 is, in truth, the very worst piece of news for the advertising industry since the birth of mass media. In the short term, the Web 2.0 hysteria marks the end of the golden age of advertising; in the long term, it might even mark the end of advertising itself.

[…]

[F]or the advertiser, media content is indeed losing its value, a value historically derived from its scarcity. This devaluation of media isn’t hard to quantify: It can be measured everywhere, in falling CPM and the failure of social networks to develop viable business models. No new technology—neither the false dawn of mobile, nor the holy grail of personalized, targeted advertising—is going to save the advertising business now. No, the truth is that advertising can only be saved if we can re-create media scarcity. That means less user-generated content and more professionally created information and entertainment, less technology and more creativity. The advertising community desperately needs more gatekeepers, more professional creative authorities, more so-called media “elites” who will curate, filter and organize content. That’s the way to re-establish the value of the message. It’s the one commercial antidote to Web 2.0’s radically destructive cultural democracy.

Oh my, where to begin…

Well, Keen is right about one thing (and only one thing) here: The end of the age of scarcity is certainly shaking up the advertising world. Bob Garfield of Ad Age wrote an interesting set of articles on this issue recently under the title “Chaos Scenario.” (Part 1 and Part 2.) When Bob called me for a comment for Part 2 of that series, here’s what I told him:

“It’s a very different kind of world. The problem is, the expectations are there to capture that mass audience that long ago disappeared. We are witnessing the gradual death of the business models that thrived in that age of scarcity.”

So, in a sense, I agree with Keen that the death of scarcity will challenge traditional advertising arrangements and media business models. Unlike Keen, however, I am not Chicken Little-ish in my outlook of things and I certainly do not believe that the end of scarcity “might even mark the end of advertising itself.” Just because media and advertising are changing doesn’t mean they are dying. They are just evolving. As John Gartner of the Marketing Shift blog notes, “Advertising won’t die. But it will never be the same.”

Indeed, there are some incredibly innovative advertising strategies being developed today in response to the changing nature of media development, distribution, and consumption. For example, I knew the world had changed in a major way when a friend sent me the link to the latest Geico ad that had been posted on YouTube and I spent the next twenty minutes watching a whole batch of new and old Geico ads. [I don’t know who developed those ads, but they deserve a raise! Brilliant stuff.] But I’ve also found myself watching ads in other strange places lately. The Microsoft XBox 360 Marketplace, for example, has many ads and promo clips that I find myself viewing regularly. And yes, I’ve even clicked on a few ads I’ve found on my mobile phone.

But Keen doesn’t seem willing to acknowledge that such innovative changes are occurring or that they might be a perfectly healthy evolution of the marketplace. Instead, he makes the preposterous argument that “advertising can only be saved if we can re-create media scarcity” and that “The advertising community desperately needs more gatekeepers, more professional creative authorities, more so-called media “elites” who will curate, filter and organize content. That’s the way to re-establish the value of the message. It’s the one commercial antidote to Web 2.0’s radically destructive cultural democracy.”

There are times when I am reading Keen’s book and articles like this and I find myself wondering: Does he really believe this stuff, or is he just a savvy idea marketer who understands that the best way to sell books its to be more over-the-top than the last guy?

Sadly, Keen seems to be a true believer in the Coming Cultural End Times and the collapse of all things once sacred (at least that which he holds sacred). As I pointed out in my previous essay about Keen, his view of the world is unapologetically techno-conservative and culturally elitist. Indeed, he is the living embodiment of what Virgina Postrel calls “the stasis mentality.”

Keen’s work really got me thinking about Virginia Postrel’s wonderful book The Future and Its Enemies: The Growing Conflict over Creativity, Enterprise, and Progress, which is now almost ten years old. In her book, Postrel paints a brilliant picture of how many debates about technology and progress will unfold in the future. She contrasts stasis thinking with dynamism, and her work is worth quoting extensively here because it perfectly unlocks the mystery behind Keen’s thinking:

How we feel about the evolving future tells us who we are as individuals and as a civilization: Do we search for stasis—a regulated, engineered world? Or do we embrace dynamism—a world of constant creation, discovery, and competition? Do we value stability and control, or evolution and learning? Do we declare with Appelo that “we’re scared of the future” and join Adams in decrying technology as “a killing thing”? Or do we see technology as an expression of human creativity and the future as inviting? Do we think that progress requires a central blueprint, or do we see it as a decentralized, evolutionary process? Do we consider mistakes permanent disasters, or the correctable by-products of experimentation? Do we crave predictability, or relish surprise? These two poles, stasis and dynamism, increasingly define our political, intellectual, and cultural landscape. The central question of our time is what to do about the future. And that question creates a deep divide.

Indeed it does, and that is the divide that now exists between Andrew Keen and most of the rest of us who have fully embraced (or at least learned to cope with) the sweeping changes brought about by the rise of the Internet, user-generated content, and “amateur” culture in general. No doubt, as Keen suggests, disintermediation has been a destabilizing force. The death of scarcity and the rise of abundance have shaken up the old order. But it is not all for the worse. While the creative destruction of the capitalist marketplace is always difficult, in the long run, it typically brings about better business models and modes of thinking.

But Keen wants to wind back the clock and “re-create scarcity” to save traditional business models. How would that even work? He never seems to get around to providing clear answers to that question, and for good reason: It would likely be incredibly intrusive and destructive. Virginia Postrel perfectly identified the logical implications of the stasis mentality that Keen represents when she wrote:

Stasist social criticism… brings up the specifics of life only to sneer at or bash them. Critics assume that readers will share their attitudes and will see contemporary life as a problem demanding immediate action by the powerful and wise. This relentlessly hostile view of how we live, and how we may come to live, is distorted and dangerous. It overvalues the tastes of an articulate elite, compares the real world of trade-offs to fantasies of utopia, omits important details and connections, and confuses temporary growing pains with permanent catastrophes. It demoralizes and devalues the creative minds on whom our future depends. And it encourages the coercive use of political power to wipe out choice, forbid experimentation, short-circuit feedback, and trammel progress.

And therein lies the ultimate danger of the stasis mindset that Keen embodies: It isn’t just silly, it’s downright destructive and a significant threat to our liberties.

Andrew Keen is the web’s favorite whipping boy these days, and in some ways he has it coming. His latest book, The Cult of the Amateur: How Today’s Internet is Killing Our Culture, is an anti-all-things-Web 2.0 screed. Keen lambastes “Internet democracy” (specifically the Wiki model of collaborative creation) and decries the rising tide of user-generated everything. When you get right down to it, Keen’s view of the world is unapologetically techno-conservative and culturally elitist. He’s angry that there are fewer intermediaries minding the culture. As a result, he argues, “professional” media (by which he means to say “better” media) is giving way to “amateur” media (which he regards as synonymous with, well… crap).

Unsurprisingly, the blogosphere has fought back with a vengeance and called Keen every nasty name in the book. But the best and most level-headed critique of Keen’s work is still this old essay by the ever-insightful Clay Shirky. Clay’s response rightly concedes that Keen in correct in pointing out that some important things have been lost with the rise of the Internet. There certainly are fewer intermediaries filtering our culture for us, and that will sound like a great thing to many of us. But it’s important to realize that some of those mediating forces serve a valuable role. Editors, for example, play an important, but often overlooked, role in terms of improving the quality of great deal of media content of all varieties (journalism, books, movies, music, etc). The blogosphere is becoming an editor-free zone, and at times it really shows. There are times when some particularly insulting things are said or silly mistakes are made that probably would have been corrected had a good editor been responsible for overseeing the final product.

On the other hand, the unfiltered Web 2.0 experience is wonderfully refreshing. Sometimes it’s nice to see what the uninhibited exchange of ideas results in. Regardless, the bottom line is that the editing profession (broadly defined) is changing because of the Internet. That is undeniable. And other mediating forces or institutions are seeing their power or relative importance in the cultural creation process diminished as the Internet-spawned disintermediation continues unabated.

Will that create short term problems? Undeniably. But Keen thinks these developments are contributing to a sort of cultural catastrophe and that we are collectively much worse off because of this disintermediation and empowerment of the “amateur.” This goes much too far in my opinion.

What Keen doesn’t seem willing to tolerate is that when everyone has a voice, a lot more silly things are going to be said and heard. Back in the days before we all had our own soapboxes (websites, blogs, social networks, YouTube posts, etc.) we all had opinions, but we had few ways to get those opinions out. Now that the Internet has become the great leveler and given everyone the ability to be a one-person newspaper or broadcaster to the world, the dream of a more fully empowered citizenry is slowly becoming a reality. The upside is that everyone gets an equal chance to be heard. But the downside is that everyone gets an equal chance to be heard! That is, with the good comes some bad. There are wonderful contributions to culture and human communications being made by average Joes and Janes across the globe because of the Web. But let’s face it, there’s a lot of crap out there too. Cutting through the cultural clutter can been a real challenge, and even with the best search tools in the world at your disposal, it can still be difficult to find that diamond in the rough.

But aren’t we better off as a society because of the opportunities now at our disposal? Isn’t an age of media and cultural abundance–warts and all–still preferable to the age of scarcity which preceded it? Think about the big picture. As I pointed out in my recent City Journal essay on “The Media Cornucopia”:

Throughout most of history, humans lived in a state of extreme information poverty. News traveled slowly, field to field, village to village. Even with the printing press’s advent, information spread at a snail’s pace. Few knew how to find printed materials, assuming that they even knew how to read. Today, by contrast, we live in a world of unprecedented media abundance that once would have been the stuff of science-fiction novels. We can increasingly obtain and consume whatever media we want, wherever and whenever we want: television, radio, newspapers, magazines, and the bewildering variety of material available on the Internet.

I think we are definitely better off because of this seismic shift in our communications and media environment. The human conversation is more diverse than ever before, and we have been empowered to experience the full range of culture and human creativity (for better and for worse!)

Moreover, the old mediating institutions aren’t dead yet. There are still plenty of large-scale media operations and content creators / editors that are alive and well producing a wide variety of culture. It’s just that they now face a lot more competition than ever before, and from sources of a very different nature (small-scale, independent, and wonderfully “amateur-ish.”)

Finally, let’s not forget that the age of scarcity and mediated culture that Keen seems to put on pedestal created a lot of crap too! Sure, the Internet era gave us Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, and plenty of pathetic, time-wasting YouTube videos. But the age of media “professionalism” gave us “Three’s Company,” the Bay City Rollers, and “Killer Klowns from Outer Space.” Each era produced its fair share of quality and crap. There’s just more of both these days and that’s what Keen doesn’t seem willing to accept. But I’ll take that deal any day over the limited choices of the bygone scarcity era he seems eager to reestablish.

[Note: Part 2 of this essay can be found here.]