This is a compendium of readings on “ progress studies ,” or essays and books which generally make the case for technological innovation, dynamism, economic growth, and abundance. I will update this list as additional material of relevance is brought to my attention.   

[Last update: 10/11/22]

Recent Essays

• Marc Andreessen, “The Techno-Optimist Manifesto,” a16z.com, October 16, 2023.
• Will Rinehart, “The Abundance Agenda,” The Exformation Newsletter, October 15, 2022.
• Sarah Constantin, “Unblocking Abundance: A Model for Activism,” Rough Diamonds, October 10, 2022.
• Derek Thompson, “The Forgotten Stage of Human Progress,” The Atlantic, May 11, 2022.
• Adam Thierer, “Where is ‘Progress Studies’ Going?” Progress Forum, April 23, 2022.
• Katherine Boyle, “The Case for American Seriousness,” Common Sense, April 18, 2022.
• William Rinehart, “Vetocracy, the Costs of Vetos and Inaction,” Center for Growth & Opportunity at Utah State University, March 24, 2022.
• James Pethokoukis, “Forget about Left Wing and Right Wing. How about an Up Wing America?” Faster Please, March 23, 2022.
• John W. Lettieri & Kenan Fikri, “The Case for Economic Dynamism and Why it Matters for the American Worker,” Economic Innovation Group, March 2022.
• Adam Kovacevich, “Saying YIMBY (Yes In My Back Yard) to “Civic Innovation,” Chamber of Progress, March 21, 2022.
• Eli Dourado, “Remove Barriers to Productivity,” City Journal, March 18, 2022.
• “A Case for Innovation and Optimism,” (A conversation with Jason Crawford), Discourse, March 2, 2022.
• Noah Smith, “A New Industrialist Roundup,” Noahpinion, February 3, 2022.
• James Pethokoukis, “When Will the Next Big Thing Arrive?” Faster Please, February 3, 2022.
• Alec Stapp & Caleb Watney,  “ Progress is a Policy Choice ,” Institute for Progress, January 20, 2022.
• Adam Thierer, “ How to Get the Future We Were Promised ,” Discourse, January 18, 2022.
• Katherine Boyle, “ Building American Dynamism ,” Future, January 14, 2022.  
• Derek Thompson, “ A Simple Plan to Solve All of America’s Problems ,” The Atlantic, January 12, 2022.
• Jason Crawford, “Progress, Humanism, Agency: An Intellectual Core for the Progress Movement,” Roots of Progress, January 11, 2022.
• Adam Thierer, “Defending Innovation Against Attacks from All Sides,” Discourse, November 9, 2021.
• Matthew Yglesias, “The Case for More Energy,” October 7, 2021.
• Jason Crawford, “ We need a new philosophy of progress ,” The Roots of Progress, August 23, 2021.
• Gale Pooley & Marian L. Tupy, “The Simon Abundance Index 2021,” Human Progress, April 22, 2021.
• Noah Smith, “ Techno-optimism for the 2020s ,” December 3, 2020. 
• Ezra Klein, “ Why We Can’t Build ,” Vox, April 22, 2020.
• Marc Andreesen, “ It’s Time to Build ,” Future, April 18, 2020.
• Eli Dourado, “ How do we move the needle on progress ?” September 26, 2019.
• José Luis Ricón, “ About the ‘Progress’ in Progress Studies ” September 6, 2019.
• Will Rinehart, “ Progress Studies: Some Initial Thoughts ,” August 30, 2019.
• Adam Thierer, “ Is There a Science of Progress ?” AIER, August 8, 2019.
• Patrick Collison and Tyler Cowen, “ We Need a New Science of Progress ,” The Atlantic, July 30, 2019.
• Tyler Cowen, “ The Case for the Longer Term ,” Cato Unbound, January 9, 2019.
• Vinod Khosla, “ We Need Large Innovations ,” Medium, January 1, 2018.
• Adam Thierer, “ How Technology Expands the Horizons of Our Humanity ,” Medium, November 19, 2018. 
• Chelsea Follett, “Utopianism: One of the Biggest Obstacles to Progress,” Human Progress, August15, 2018.
• Eli Dourado, “ How Technological Innovation Can Massively Reduce the Cost of Living ,” PlainText, January 29, 2016.

Books

• J. Storrs Hall, Where Is My Flying Car ? (Stripe Press, 2021).
• Matt Ridley, How Innovation Works: And Why It Flourishes in Freedom (New York: Harper, 2020).
• Andrew McAfee, More from Less (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2020).
• Ronald Bailey & Marian L. Tupy, Ten Global Trends Every Smart Person Should Know: And Many Others You Will Find Interesting (Cato Institute, 2020).
• Arthur M. Diamond Jr., Openness to Creative Destruction: Sustaining Innovative Dynamism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019).
• Tyler Cowen, Stubborn Attachments: A Vision for a Society of Free, Prosperous, and Responsible Individuals (San Francisco, CA: Stripe Press, 2018).
• Steven Pinker, Enlightenment Now: The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism, and Progress (New York: Viking, 2018).
• Hans Rosling, Factfulness: Ten Reasons We’re Wrong about the World—and Why Things Are Better Than You Think (New York: Flatiron Books, 2018).
• Tim Harford, 50 Things That Made the Modern Economy (New York: Riverhead Books, 2017).
• Joel Mokyr, A Culture of Growth: The Origins of the Modern Economy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2017).
• Adam Thierer, Permissionless Innovation: The Continuing Case for Comprehensive Technological Freedom , 2nd ed. (Arlington, VA: Mercatus Center at George Mason University, 2016).
• Calestous Juma, Innovation and Its Enemies: Why People Resist New Technologies (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016).
• Deirdre N. McCloskey, Bourgeois Equality: How Ideas, Not Capital or Institutions, Enriched the World (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2016).
• Joe Carlen, A Brief History of Entrepreneurship: The Pioneers, Profiteers, and Racketeers Who Shaped Our World (New York: Columbia University Press, 2016).
• Robert Bryce, Smaller Faster Lighter Denser Cheaper: How Innovation Keeps Proving the Catastrophists Wrong (New York: Public Affairs, 2014).
• Matt Ridley, The Rational Optimist: How Prosperity Evolves (New York: Harper Collins, 2010).
• Larry Downes, The Laws of Disruption: Harnessing the New Forces That Govern Life and Business in the Digital Age (New York: Basic Books, 2009).
• Amar Bhidé, The Venturesome Economy: How Innovation Sustains Prosperity in a More Connected World (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008).
• Robert Friedel, A Culture of Improvement: Technology and the Western Millennium (Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 2007).
• Benjamin M. Friedman, The Moral Consequences of Economic Growth , (New York: Vintage Books, 2006).
• Virginia Postrel, The Future and Its Enemies (New York: The Free Press, 1998).
• David Landes, The Wealth and Poverty of Nations: Why Some Are So Rich and Some are So Poor (New York: W.W. Norton & Co, 1998).
• Robert Nisbet, History of the Idea of Progress (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers, 1994).
• Joel Mokyr, Lever of Riches: Technological Creativity and Economic Progress (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990).
• Nathan Rosenberg and L. E.. Birdzell, How the West Grew Rich: The Economic Transformation of the Industrial World (New York: Basic Books, 1986).
• Samuel C. Florman, The Existential Pleasures of Engineering (New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 1976, 1994).

I recently posted an essay over at The Bridge about “The Pacing Problem and the Future of Technology Regulation.” In it, I explain why the pacing problem—the notion that technological innovation is increasingly outpacing the ability of laws and regulations to keep up—“is becoming the great equalizer in debates over technological governance because it forces governments to rethink their approach to the regulation of many sectors and technologies.”

In this follow-up article, I wanted to expand upon some of the themes developed in that essay and discuss how they relate to two other important concepts: the “Collingridge Dilemma” and technological determinism. In doing so, I will build on material that is included in a forthcoming law review article I have co-authored with Jennifer Skees, Ryan Hagemann (“Soft Law for Hard Problems: The Governance of Emerging Technologies in an Uncertain Future”) as well as a book I am finishing up on the growth of “evasive entrepreneurialism” and “technological civil disobedience.”

Recapping the Nature of the Pacing Problem

First, let us quickly recap that nature of “the pacing problem.” I believe Larry Downes did the best job explaining the “problem” in his 2009 book on The Laws of Disruption. Downes argued that “technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally” and that this “law” was becoming “a simple but unavoidable principle of modern life.”

Downes was generally a cheerleader for such developments. For him, the pacing problem is more like the pacing benefit. But Downes is in the minority among most tech policy scholars in this regard. In the field of Science and Technology Studies (STS), discussions about the pacing problem and what to do about it are omnipresent and full of foreboding gloominess.

STS is a broad field of interdisciplinary studies unified by a concern with “the impacts and control of science and technology, with particular focus on the risks, benefits and opportunities that S&T may pose” to a wide range of values. STS studies incorporates many disciplines: legal and philosophical studies, sociology, anthropology, engineering, and others. In countless essays, papers, journal articles, and books, STS scholars lament the pacing problem and often insist something must be done, often without ever getting around to explaining what that something is.

Regardless of their field of study, there is broad recognition among these scholars that new technological, social, and political realities make the pacing problem a phenomenon worth studying.  In my Bridge essay, I identified three primary drivers of the pacing problem:

• Technological driver: The power of “combinatorial innovation,” which is driven by “Moore’s Law,” fuels a constant expansion of technological capabilities.
• Social driver: As citizens quickly assimilate new tools into their daily lives and then expect that even more and better tools will be delivered tomorrow.
• Political driver: Government has grown increasingly dysfunctional and unable to adapt to those technological and social changes.

The “Collingridge Dilemma”

Although they do not always refer to it by name, STS scholars regularly stress the so-called “Collingridge dilemma” in their work. The Collingridge dilemma refers to the extreme difficulty of putting proverbial genies back in their bottles once a given technology has reached a certain inflection point in society. The concept is named after David Collingridge, who wrote about the challenges of governing emerging technologies in his 1980 book, The Social Control of Technology .

“The social consequences of a technology cannot be predicted early in the life of the technology,” Collingridge argued. “By the time undesirable consequences are discovered, however, the technology is often so much part of the whole economics and social fabric that its control is extremely difficult.” He called this the “dilemma of control,” and asserted that, “When change is easy, the need for it cannot be foreseen; when the need for change is apparent, change has become expensive, difficult and time-consuming.”

In a sense, the “Collingridge dilemma” is simply a restatement of the pacing problem but with (1) greater stress on the social drivers behind the pacing problem and, (2) an implicit solution to “the problem” in the form of preemptive control of new technologies while they are still young and more manageable.

Specifically, for many STS scholars, Collingridge’s “dilemma” is preferably solved through the application of the Precautionary Principle. The contours of the Precautionary Principle are notoriously murky and ill-defined. Nonetheless, as I discussed a great length in my last book on the subject, the Precautionary Principle generally refers to the belief that new innovations should be curtailed or disallowed until their developers can prove that they will not cause any harm to individuals, groups, specific entities, cultural norms, or various existing laws, norms, or traditions.

You can see the logic of the Collingridge dilemma and the Precautionary Principle at work everywhere in STS scholarship today. Few scholars want to admit they favor the Precautionary Principle, however, so they often use different terminology. “Anticipatory governance” or “upstream governance” are the preferred terms of art these days.

For example, in a recent law review article about “Regulating Disruptive Innovation,” Nathan Cortez argues that “new technologies can benefit from decisive, well-timed regulation” or even “early regulatory interventions.” Similarly, writing in Slate in 2014, John Frank Weaver insisted we should regulate emerging tech like artificial intelligence “early and often” to “get out ahead of” various social and economic concerns.

In his last book, A Dangerous Master: How to Keep Technology from Slipping beyond Our Control, bioethicist Wendell Wallach also argued for new forms of upstream governance and defined it as a system that allow for “more control over the way that potentially harmful technologies are developed or introduced into the larger society. Upstream management is certainly better than introducing regulations downstream, after a technology is deeply entrenched, or something major has already gone wrong,” he argued. Wallach is basically just restating the Collingridge dilemma in this regard.

The problem with all these calls for the anticipatory or upstream governance solutions to the pacing problem and the Collingridge dilemma is that, like the Precautionary Principle more generally, the specific solutions are very incoherent or sometimes completely lacking. STS scholars almost always leave the reader hanging without offering a conclusion to their gloomy, pessimistic narratives about whatever technology or technological process it is they are critiquing. Critics are quick to issue bold calls-to-action, but rarely provide a detailed blueprint.

There are some exceptions. Some STS scholars have advocated for Precautionary Principle-minded legislation or agencies, like an “Artificial Intelligence Development Act,” a “National Algorithmic Technology Safety Administration” or a federal AI agency, such as a “Federal Robotics Commission.” Meanwhile, over the past decade, many STS scholars have pushed for national privacy and cybersecurity legislation, or expansive new forms of liability for technology companies. The regulatory authority sought in these cases would be squarely precautionary in character, aimed at addressing a wide array of hypothetical harms through permissioned-based rulemaking before those problems even materialize.

Technological Determinism?

Discussions about the pacing problem and the Collingridge dilemma have an air of technological determinism to them. Technological determinism generally refers to the notion that technology almost has a mind of its own and that it will plow forward without much resistance from society or governments. Here is a more scholarly definition from Sally Wyatt, who has explained how technological determinism is generally defined in a two-part fashion:

The first part is that technological developments take place outside society, independently of social, economic, and political forces. New or improved products or ways of making things arise from the activities of inventors, engineers, and designers following an internal, technical logic that has nothing to do with social relationships. The more crucial second part is that technological change causes or determines social change.

The opposite of technological determinism is usually referred to as “social constructivism,” which as Thomas Hughes notes, “presumes that social and cultural forces determine technical change.”

Ironically, among STS scholars, technological determinist reasoning is both (a) regularly on display, and (b) generally reviled. That is, many STS scholars speaking in deterministic tones about the inevitability of certain technological developments, but then they effortlessly shift into social constructivist mode when commenting on what they hope to do about it.

One of the most well-known technology critics of the past century was French philosopher Jacques Ellul. It is impossible to read his tracts and not find deterministic reasoning flying off every other page. He argued, for example, that technology is “self-perpetuating, all-persuasive, and inescapable,” and that it represents “an autonomous and uncontrollable force that dehumanized all that it touches.” Moreover, within the field of Marxist studies, technological determinism is ubiquitous. Of course, that goes back to Marx himself and his many ideological descendants, who held strongly deterministic views about the role industrial technology played in sharping history and socio-political systems. Plenty of other STS scholars remain hard-core social constructivist, however, and insist that dealing with the pacing problem and the Collingridge dilemma really just comes down to a matter of sheer social and political willpower.

Techno-determinist thinking is usually on display in more vivid terms among technological optimists. Reading the writings of futurists like Ray Kurzweil and Kevin Kelly, one cannot help but get the sense that they are pining for the day when we are all just assimilated into The Matrix. There is an air of utter futility associated with humanity’s efforts to resist the spread of various technological systems and processes. Philosopher Michael Sacasas refers to this mentality as “the Borg Complex,” which, he says, is often “exhibited by writers and pundits who explicitly assert or implicitly assume that resistance to technology is futile.”

The point I am trying to make here is that technological determinism is at work in all sorts of scholarship and punditry. Regardless of whether one subscribes to what Ian Barbour has labelled the warring viewpoints of “Technology as Liberator” or “Technology as a Threat,” very different people can hold strongly deterministic viewpoints.

Soft Determinism

The problem with all this talk about determinism—technological, social, political, or whatever—is that the lines are never quite as bright as some suggest. “Hard” determinism of any of these varieties simply cannot be correct. We have too many historical examples that run counter to both narratives.

Personally, I’ve always subscribed to what some refer to as “ soft technological determinism.” Technological historian Merritt Roe Smith defines “soft determinism” as the view “which holds that technological change drives social change but at the same time responds discriminatingly to social pressures,” as compared to “hard determinism,” which “perceives technological development as an autonomous force, completely independent of social constraints.”

Konstantinos Stylianou has offered a variant of soft determinism that zeroes in on better understanding the unique attributes of specific technologies and political systems when considering how difficult they may be to control. He argues that “there are indeed technologies so disruptive that by their very nature they cause a certain change regardless of other factors,” such as the Internet. Stylianou concludes that:

It seems reasonable to infer that the thrust behind technological progress is so powerful that it is almost impossible for traditional legislation to catch up. While designing flexible rules may be of help, it also appears that technology has already advanced to the degree that is able to bypass or manipulate legislation. As a result, the cat-and-mouse chase game between the law and technology will probably always tip in favor of technology. It may thus be a wise choice for the law to stop underestimating the dynamics of technology, and instead adapt to embrace it.

That may sound like just more hard deterministic thinking, but it represents a softer variety that holds that the special characteristics of some technologies are indeed altering our capacity to govern many newer sectors using traditional regulatory mechanisms. In my new law review article with Jennifer Skees and Ryan Hagemann, we conclude that this is the key factor motivating the gradual move away from “hard law” and toward “soft law” governance tools for a great many emerging technologies.

To be clear, this does not mean we are going to soon reach the proverbial “end of politics” or the “death of the nation-state” due to technology, or anything like that. As I point out in my forthcoming book, that sort of talk is silly. Some technology enthusiasts or libertarians use techno-determinist talk as if they are preaching a gospel of liberation theology—liberation from the state through technology emancipation, that is.

In reality, technology giveth and technology taketh away. Technology can empower people and institutions and help them challenge laws, regulations, and entire political systems. My forthcoming book documents how many “evasive entrepreneurs” are doing just that today, and with increasing regularity. But technology empowers government actors, too. In an unpublished 2009 manuscript entitled, “Does Technology Drive the Growth of Government?” my Mercatus Center colleague Tyler Cowen noted how growth of big government in the 20th century was greatly facilitated by various modern technologies (advanced transportation and communications networks, in particular). “Future technologies may either increase or decrease the role of government in society,” he noted, “but if history shows one thing, it is that we should not neglect technology in understanding the shift from an old political equilibrium to a new one.”

Thus, those who think that the pacing problem is a one-way ratchet to emancipation from state control need to realize that technology can be used for good and bad ends, and it can be used (and abused) by governments to expand their powers and limit our liberties. Similarly, those tech critics and STS scholars who lament how the pacing problem will undermine governments, democracy, or other institutions or values without radical interventions also are going too far. They need to recognize that while it is true many new technologies will march forward at a steady clip, it does not mean that society is powerless to bring some order to technological processes. We shape our tools and then our tools shape us. And then we create still more tools to improve upon previous tools, and the process goes on and on.

John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid put it best in this 2001 essay responding to “doom-and-gloom technofuturists”:

[T]echnological and social systems shape each other. The same is true on a larger scale. . . . Technology and society are constantly forming and reforming new dynamic equilibriums with far-reaching implications. The challenge . . . is to see beyond the hype and past the over-simplifications to the full import of these new sociotechnical formations.

So yes, the pacing problem is real, and it will continue to raise problems for social and political systems. But as Brown and Paul Duguid suggest, we’ll constantly adapt, form and reform new dynamic equilibriums, and then “muddle through,” just as we have so many times before.

Related Reading

• “The Pacing Problem and the Future of Technology Regulation”
• “Muddling Through: How We Learn to Cope with Technological Change”
• “A Short Response to Michael Sacasas on Advice for Tech Writers”
• “Are “Permissionless Innovation” and “Responsible Innovation” Compatible?”
• “Wendell Wallach on the Challenge of Engineering Better Technology Ethics”
• “Book Review: Calestous Juma’s “Innovation and Its Enemies’”
• “Evasive Entrepreneurialism and Technological Civil Disobedience: Basic Definitions”

[first published at The Bridge on August 9, 2018]

What happens when technological innovation outpaces the ability of laws and regulations to keep up?

This phenomenon is known as “the pacing problem,” and it has profound ramifications for the governance of emerging technologies. Indeed, the pacing problem is becoming the great equalizer in debates over technological governance because it forces governments to rethink their approach to the regulation of many sectors and technologies.

The Innovation Cornucopia

Had Rip Van Winkle woken up his famous nap today, he’d be shocked by all the changes around him. At-home genetics tests, personal drones, driverless cars, lab-grown meats, and 3D-printed prosthetic limbs are just some of the amazing innovations that would boggle his mind. New devices and services are flying at us so rapidly that we sometimes forget that most did not even exist a short time ago. At this point, it feels like our smartphones have been in our lives forever, but even just a decade ago, very few of us had one. Likewise, plenty of people now regularly enjoy the benefits of the sharing economy, but ten years ago, Uber, Lyft, and Airbnb did not even exist. Most of the social networking platforms or online video and audio streaming services that we use today had not even been created 15 years ago. Back then, Netflix’s DVD mail subscription service seemed downright revolutionary.

With every innovation comes more questions about how the law should keep pace, or whether it even can. “There has always been a pacing problem,” observes Yale University bioethicist Wendell Wallach, author of  A Dangerous Master: How to Keep Technology from Slipping beyond Our Control. But what Wallach and many other scholars worry about today is that the pace of change has been kicked into overdrive, making it more difficult than ever for traditional legal schemes and regulatory mechanisms to stay relevant. Larry Downes refers to this as “The Law of Disruption.” In his 2009 book on this “law,” Downes showed how “technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally” and that this law was becoming “a simple but unavoidable principle of modern life.”

Moore’s Law Quickens the Pace

There are three primary reasons the pacing problem is such a force in our modern world. The root cause lies in the power of “combinatorial innovation,” which is driven by “Moore’s Law.”  The Information Revolution spawned a stunning array of new technological capabilities that build on top of one another in a symbiotic fashion. Think about the shared foundational elements of most modern inventions: microchips, sensors, digital code, big data, cloud computing, remote data storage, wireless networking and geolocation capabilities, machine-learning, cryptography, and more. Each of these underlying capabilities is becoming faster, cheaper, smaller, more powerful, and easier to find and use. Innovators are combining them as part of their ongoing search for new and better ways of doing things.

Moore’s Law powers these developments. Moore’s Law is the principle named after Intel co-founder Gordon E. Moore, who first observed in 1965 that “computing would dramatically increase in power, and decrease in relative cost, at an exponential pace” in coming years. Indeed, it has continued to do so for the past half century for many information technologies. A recent Technology Policy Institute white paper noted that “data transit prices fell from about $1200 per Mbps in 1998 to $0.02 per Mbps in 2017.”

These forces are now revolutionizing other sectors as “software eats the world” and innovators utilize these new technologies to address nearly every conceivable need and want. In the field of genetics, the biological equivalent of Moore’s Law is known as the “Carlson curve.” The past two decades have seen the cost of sequencing a human genome fall from over $100 million to under $1,000, a rate nearly three times faster than Moore’s Law.

What the Public Wants, the Public Gets

The second reason the pacing problem is accelerating is that the public wants it to! It is true that many people say they are uneasy with many emerging technologies. When new gadgets and services first gain attention, a “technopanic” attitude often ensues. That is unsurprising because, as others have noted, “fear has gone hand in hand with technological advancements throughout history.”

But societal attitudes toward technological change often shift rapidly. They do so even faster today as citizens quickly assimilate new tools into their daily lives and then expect that even more and better tools will be delivered tomorrow. As more people begin to realize how new technologies improve our lives in meaningful ways, it becomes extremely hard for policymakers to take those innovations away or even tell us not to expect better ones. This relationship between technological change and societal expectations acts as an extraordinarily powerful check on the ability of regulators to “roll back the clock” on innovative activities.

Broken Government Exacerbates the Problem

Finally, the pacing problem is becoming more acute because “demosclerosis” and “kludgeocracy” have taken hold within American government. Jonathan Rauch coined the term demosclerosis in his 1999 book Government’s End: Why Washington Stopped Working to describe “government’s progressive loss of the ability to adapt.” “[A]s layer is dropped upon layer,” he argued, “the accumulated mass becomes gradually less rational and less flexible.”

Instead of cleaning up old legalistic messes and adapting to the times, government solutions are more often clumsily cobbled together to patch past problems and create temporary solutions. Steven Teles refers to this as kludgeocracy. “The complexity and incoherence of our government often make it difficult for us to understand just what that government is doing,” Teles says. Kludgeocracy creates serious costs for individual citizens, governments themselves, and to our democratic systems more generally, he argues. Taken together, demosclerosis and kludgeocracy breed highly dysfunctional governments and make it even easier for the pacing problem to speed ahead.

Can Policymakers Adapt?

Regulators are not oblivious to the challenges posed by the pacing problem. “I have said more than once that innovation moves at the speed of imagination and that government has traditionally moved at, well, the speed of government,” remarked Michael Heurta, head of the Federal Aviation Administration, in a 2016 speech regarding drones. Shortly after Huerta made those comments, the Department of Transportation released a report on the regulation of driverless car technology which noted that “The speed with which [driverless cars] are advancing, combined with the complexity and novelty of these innovations, threatens to outpace the Agency’s conventional regulatory processes and capabilities.”

Food and Drug Administration (FDA) regulators have increasingly referenced the pacing problem when discussing the challenge of keeping up with new medical innovations.  The New York Times recently asked Dr. Peter Marks, director of the FDA’s Center for Biologics Evaluation and Research, how the agency planned to deal with hundreds of “rogue” stem cell treatment clinics. “There are hundreds and hundreds of these clinics,” he said. “We simply don’t have the bandwidth to go after all of them at once.”

The pacing problem has even crept into antitrust enforcement. The US Department of Justice (DOJ) sought to break up Microsoft in the late 1990s, but as the legal proceedings dragged on through the early 2000’s, the market moved and made the DOJ’s case moot. Google Chrome and Mozilla Firefox emerged as legitimate competitors to Microsoft’s Internet Explorer without regulatory remedy. In the end, Microsoft reached a settlement with the DOJ that fell far short of the government’s original ambitions to bust up the firm, all because the market moved at a pace much faster than the regulator’s pace. More recent antitrust action in the US and EU also suffer from the pacing problem. Multi-year antitrust investigations reach conclusions that don’t reflect market trends in the intervening years and offer remedies that may be “too little, too late,” especially in the information technology sector.

Is the Pacing Problem Really the Pacing Benefit?

What should policymakers do in light of these new challenges? The extremes will not work. Lawmakers or regulators cannot simply double-down on the lethargic and unwieldy technocratic regulatory schemes of the past. Command-and-control tactics are not going to be effective in an age when technology evolves in a quicksilver fashion. In a world where “innovation arbitrage” is easier than ever, repressive crackdowns on new tech will often backfire. Evasive entrepreneurs will often move to those jurisdictions where their innovative acts are treated more hospitably. That, too, exacerbates the pacing problem.

From the perspective of many innovation advocates, this will make it seem like the pacing problem is more like the pacing  benefit. Generally speaking, that intuition is sound. Innovation is the fundamental driver of human betterment. We need more “moonshots”—“radical but feasible solutions to important problems”—to ensure that current and future generations enjoy more choices, greater mobility, increased wealth, better health, and longer lifespans. We don’t want archaic regulatory schemes and regimes holding that back.

Constructive Solutions

But policymakers will not abandon oversight of emerging technologies altogether, nor should we want them to. The potential harms associated with some new technologies could be significant enough that a certain degree of regulatory oversight will be required. But the pacing problem means the old, inflexible, top-down approaches will need to be discarded and that the administrative state itself must become more entrepreneurial.

In a forthcoming law review article entitled, “Soft Law for Hard Problems: The Governance of Emerging Technologies in an Uncertain Future,” Jennifer Skees, Ryan Hagemann, and I discuss how “soft law” mechanisms—multi-stakeholder processes, industry best practices and standards, workshops, agency guidance, and more—can help fill the governance gap as the pacing problem accelerates. Many agencies are already tapping soft law tools to help guide the development of new technologies such as driverless cars, drones, the Internet of Things, mobile medical applications, artificial intelligence, and others. In fact, we argue that soft law has already become the dominant form of technological governance for emerging tech in the US.

Critics might decry soft law as either being too lax (and open to private abuse) or too informal (and open to government abuse), but the pacing problem makes both arguments increasingly irrelevant. We need a new governance vision for the technological age. Our new governance systems must be more flexible and adaptive than the heavy-handed regulatory regimes that preceded them.

___________________

Related Reading

• Adam Thierer, “Evasive Entrepreneurialism and Technological Civil Disobedience: Basic Definitions,” The Bridge, July 20, 2018.
• Adam Thierer, “Making the World Safe for More Moonshots,” The Bridge, February 5, 2018.
• Jennifer Skees, “Do You Need a License to Innovate?” The Bridge, June 29, 2018,
• Andrea O’Sullivan & Adam Thierer, “3D Printers, Evasive Entrepreneurs and the Future of Tech Regulation,” The Bridge, August 1, 2018.
• Adam Thierer, “Does “Permissionless Innovation” Even Mean Anything?” Technology Liberation Front, May 18, 2017.
• Adam Thierer, “Wendell Wallach on the Challenge of Engineering Better Technology Ethics,” Technology Liberation Front,  April 20, 2016,

“The quickest way to find out who your enemies are is to try doing something new.” Thus begins Innovation and Its Enemies, an ambitious new book by Calestous Juma that will go down as one of the decade’s most important works on innovation policy.

Juma, who is affiliated with the Harvard Kennedy School’s Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs, has written a book that is rich in history and insights about the social and economic forces and factors that have, again and again, lead various groups and individuals to oppose technological change. Juma’s extensive research documents how “technological controversies often arise from tensions between the need to innovate and the pressure to maintain continuity, social order, and stability” (p. 5) and how this tension is “one of today’s biggest policy challenges.” (p. 8)

What Juma does better than any other technology policy scholar to date is that he identifies how these tensions develop out of deep-seated psychological biases that eventually come to affect attitudes about innovations among individuals, groups, corporations, and governments. “Public perceptions about the benefits and risks of new technologies cannot be fully understood without paying attention to intuitive aspects of human psychology,” he correctly observes. (p. 24)

Opposition to Change: It’s All in Your Head

Juma documents, for example, how “status quo bias,” loss aversion, and other psychological tendencies tend to encourage resistance to technological change. [Note: I discussed these and other “root-cause” explanations of opposition to technological change in Chapter 2 of my book, Permissionless Innovation: The Continuing Case for Comprehensive Technological Freedom, as well as in my 2012 law review article on “Technopanics, Threat Inflation, and the Danger of an Information Technology Precautionary Principle.”]  Juma notes, for example, that “society is most likely to oppose a new technology if it perceives that the risks are likely to occur in the short run and the benefits will only accrue in the long run.” (p. 5) Moreover, “much of the concern is driven by perception of loss, not necessarily by concrete evidence of loss.” (p. 11)

Juma’s approach to innovation policy studies is strongly influenced by the path-breaking work of Austrian economist Joseph Schumpeter, who long ago documented how entrepreneurial activity and the “perennial gales of creative destruction” were the prime forces that spurred innovation and propelled society forward. But Schumpeter was also one of the first scholars to realize that psychological fears about such turbulent change was what ultimately lead to much of the short-term opposition to new technologies that, in due time, we eventually come to see as life-enriching or even life-essential innovations.  Juma uses Schumpeter’s insight as the launching point for his exploration and he successfully verifies it using meticulously-detailed case studies.

Case Study-Driven Analysis

My favorite case study in the book discusses how the dairy industry fought the creation and spread of margarine (excuse the pun!). I had no idea how ugly that situation got, but Juma provides all the gory details in what I consider one of the very best crony capitalist case studies ever penned.

In particular, in a subsection of that chapter entitled “The Laws against Margarine,” he provides a litany of examples of how effective the dairy industry was in convincing lawmakers to enact ridiculous anti-consumer regulations to stop margarine, even though the product offered the public a much-needed, and much more affordable, substitute for traditional butter. At one point, the daily industry successfully lobbied five states to adopt rules mandating that any imitation butter product had to be dyed pink! Other states enacted labelling laws that required butter substitutes to come in ominous-looking black packaging. Again, all this was done at the request of the incumbent dairy industry and the National Dairy Council, which would resort to almost any sort of deceptive tactic to keep a cheaper competing product out of the hands of consumers.

And so it goes in chapter after chapter of Juma’s book. The amount of detail in each of these unique case studies is absolutely stunning, but they nonetheless remain highly readable accounts of sectoral protectionism, special interest rent-seeking, and regulatory capture. In this way, Juma is plowing some familiar ground already covered by other economic historians and political scientists, such as Joel Mokyr and Mancur Olson, both of whom are mentioned in the book, as well as a long line of public choice scholars who are, somewhat surprisingly, not discussed in the text. Nonetheless, Juma’s approach is still fresh, unique, and highly informative. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many distinct and highly detailed case studies assembled in one place by a single scholar.  What Juma has done here is truly impressive.

Related Innovation Policy Paradigms

Beyond Schumpeter’s clear influence, Juma’s approach to studying innovation policy also shares a great deal in common with two other unmentioned innovation policy scholars, Virginia Postrel and Robert D. Atkinson.

Postrel’s 1998 book, The Future and Its Enemies, contrasted the conflicting worldviews of “dynamism” and “stasis” and showed how the tensions between these two visions would affect the course of human affairs. She made the case for embracing dynamism — “a world of constant creation, discovery, and competition” — over the “regulated, engineered world” of the stasis mentality. Similarly, in his 2004 book, The Past and Future of America’s Economy, Atkinson documented how “American history is rife with resistance to change,” and in recounting some of the heated battles over previous technological revolutions he showed how two camps were always evident: “preservationists” and “modernizers.”

When Juma repeatedly recounts the fight between “innovation and incumbency” in his case studies, he is essentially describing the same paradigmatic divide that Postrel and Atkinson highlight in their works when they discuss “dynamist” vs. “stasis” tensions and the “modernizers” vs. “preservationists” battles that we have seen throughout history. [Note: In my 2014 essay on, “Thinking about Innovation Policy Debates: 4 Related Paradigms,” I discussed Postrel and Atkinson’s books and other approaches to understanding tech policy divisions and then related them to the paradigms I contrast in my work: the so-called “precautionary principle” vs. “permissionless Innovation” mindsets.]

Finally, Juma’s book could also be compared to another freshly released book, The Politics of Innovation, by Mark Zachary Taylor. Taylor’s book is also essential reading on this lamentable history of industrial protectionism and the resulting political opposition to change we have seen over time. [Note: Brent Skorup and provided many other high-tech cronyist case studies like these in our 2013 law review article, “A History of Cronyism and Capture in the Information Technology Sector.”]

To counter the prevalence of special interest influence and poor policymaking more generally, Juma stresses the need for evidence-based analysis and a corresponding rejection of fear-mongering and deceptive tactics by public officials and activist groups. He’s particularly concerned with “the use of demonization and false analogies to amplify the perception of risks associated with a new product.”

Accordingly, he would like to see improved educational and risk communication efforts aimed at better informing the public about risk trade-offs and the many potential future benefits of emerging technologies. “Learning how to communicate to the general public is an important aspect of reducing distrust [in new technologies],” Juma argues. (p. 312)

On the Pacing Problem

But Juma never really adequately squares that recommendation with another point he makes throughout the text about how “the pace of technological innovation is discernibly fast,” (p. 5) and how it is accelerating in an exponential fashion. “The implications of exponential growth will continue to elude political leaders if they persist in operating with linear worldviews.” (p. 14) But if it is indeed the case that things are moving that fast, then are we not potentially doomed to live in never-ending cycles of technopanics and misinformation campaigns about new technologies no matter how much education we try to do?

Regardless, Juma’s argument about the speed of modern technological change is quite valid and shared by many other scholars. He is essentially making the same case that Larry Downes did in his excellent 2009 book, The Laws of Disruption: Harnessing the New Forces That Govern Life and Business in the Digital Age. Downes argued that lawmaking in the information age is inexorably governed by the “law of disruption” or the fact that “technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally.”  This law, Downes said, is “a simple but unavoidable principle of modern life,” and it will have profound implications for the way businesses, government, and culture evolve going forward.  “As the gap between the old world and the new gets wider,” he argued, “conflicts between social, economic, political, and legal systems” will intensify and “nothing can stop the chaos that will follow.”

Again, Juma makes that same point repeatedly throughout the chapters of his book. This is also a restatement of the so-called “pacing problem,” as it is called in the field of the philosophy of technology. I discussed the pacing problem at length in my recent review of Wendell Wallach’s important new book, A Dangerous Master: How to Keep Technology from Slipping beyond Our Control. Wallach nicely defined the pacing problem as “the gap between the introduction of a new technology and the establishment of laws, regulations, and oversight mechanisms for shaping its safe development.” “There has always been a pacing problem,” he noted but, like Juma, Wallach believes that modern technological innovation is occurring at an unprecedented pace, making it harder than ever to “govern” using traditional legal and regulatory mechanisms.

New Approaches to Technological Governance Needed

Both Wallach in A Dangerous Master and Juma in Innovation and Its Enemies struggle with how to solve this problem. Wallach advocates “soft law” mechanisms or even informal “Governance Coordinating Committees,” which would oversee the development of new technology policies and advise existing governmental institutions. Juma is somewhat ambiguous regarding potential solutions, but he does stress the general need for a flexible approach to policy, as he notes on pg. 252:

It is important to make clear distinctions between hazards and risks. It is necessary to find a legal framework for addressing hazards. But such a framework should not take the form of rigid laws whose adoption needs to be guided by evidence of harm. More flexible standards that allow continuous assessment of emerging safety issues related to a new product are another way to address hazards. This approach would allow for evidence-based regulation.

Beyond that Juma wants to see “entrepreneurialism exercised in the public arena” (p. 282) and calls for “decisive leaders to champion the application of new technologies.” (p. 283) He argues such leadership is needed to ensure that life-enriching technologies are not derailed by opponents of change.

On the other hand, Juma sees a broader role for policymakers in helping to counter some of the potential side effects associated with many emerging technologies. He highlights three primary areas of concern. First, he suggests political leaders might need to find ways “to help balance the benefits and risks of automation” due to the rapid rise of robotics and artificial intelligence. Second, he notes that synthetic biology and gene-editing will give rise to many thorny issues that require policymakers to balance “potentially extraordinary benefits and the risk of catastrophic consequences.” (p. 284)  Finally, he points out that medicine and healthcare are set to be radically transformed by emerging technologies, but they are also threatened by archaic policies and practices in many countries.

In each case, Juma hopes that “decisive,” “adaptive” and “flexible” leaders will steer a sensible policy course with an eye toward limiting “the spread of political unrest and resentment toward technological innovation.” (p. 284)  That’s a noble goal, but Juma remains a bit vague on the steps needed to accomplish that balancing act without tipping public policy in favor a full-blown precautionary principle-based regime for new technologies. Juma clearly wants to avoid that result, but it remains unclear how or where he would draw clear lines in the sand to prevent it from occurring while at the same time achieving “decisive leadership” aimed at balancing potential risks and benefits.

Similarly, his repeated calls in the closing chapter for “inclusive innovation” efforts and strategies sounds sensible in theory, but Juma speaks in abstract generalities about what the term means and doesn’t provide a clear vision for how that would translate into concrete actions that would not end up giving vested interests a veto over new forms of technological innovation that they disfavor.

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

Generally speaking, however, Juma wants this balance struck in favor of greater openness to change and an ongoing freedom to experiment with new technological capabilities. As he notes in his concluding chapter:

The biggest risk that society faces by adopting approaches that suppress innovation is that they amplify the activities of those who want to preserve the status quo by silencing those arguing for a more open future. […] Keeping the future open and experimenting in an inclusive and transparent way is more rewarding that imposing the dictum of old patterns. (pgs. 289, 316)

In that regard, the thing I liked most about Innovation and Its Enemies is the way throughout the text that Juma stressed the symbiotic relationship between risk-taking and progress. One of the ways he does so is by kicking off every chapter with a fun quote on that theme from some notable figure. He includes gems like these:

• “Nothing will ever be attempted if all possible objections must be first overcome.” – Samuel Johnson
• “Only those will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” – T.S. Eliot
• “If you risk nothing, then you risk everything.” – Geena Davis
• “Test fast, fail fast, adjust fast.” – Tom Peters

Of course, I was bound to enjoy his repeated discussion of this theme because that was the central thesis of my latest book, in which I made the argument that, “if we spend all our time living in constant fear of worst-case scenarios—and premising public policy upon such fears—then many best-case scenarios will never come about.” Or more simply, as the old saying goes: “nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

On Pastoral Myths

I also liked the way that Juma used his case studies to remind us how “the topics may have changed, but the tactics have not.” (p. 143) For example, much of the fear-mongering and deceptive tactics we have seen through the years are based on “pastoral ideals,” i.e., appeals to nature, farm life, old traditions, of just the proverbial “good old days,” whenever those supposedly were! “Demonizing innovation is often associated with campaigns to romanticize past products and practices,” Juma notes. “Opponents of innovation hark back to traditions as if traditions themselves were not inventions at some point in the past.” (p. 309)  So very true!

That was especially the case in battles over new farming methods and technologies, when opponents of change were frequently “championing a moral cause to preserve a way of life,” as Juma discusses in several chapters. (p. 129) New products or methods of production were repeatedly but wrongly characterized as dangerous simply because they were not supposedly “natural” or “traditional” enough in character.

Of course, if all farming and other work was to remain frozen in some past “natural” state, we’d all still be hunters and gathers struggling to find the next meal to put in our bellies. Or, if we were all still on the farms of the “good old days,” then we’d still be stuck using an ox and plow in the name of preserving the “traditional” ways of doing things.

Humanity has made amazing strides—including being able to feed more people more easily and cheaply than ever before—precisely because we broke with those old, “natural” traditions. Alas, many vested interests and even quite a few academics today still employ these same pastoral appeals and myths to oppose new forms of technological change. Juma’s case studies powerfully illustrate why that dynamic continues to be a driving force in innovation policy debates and how it has delayed the diffusion of many important new goods and services throughout history. When the opponents of change rest their case on pastoral myths and nostalgic arguments about the good old days we should remind them that the good old days weren’t really that great after all.

Conclusion

In closing, Innovation and Its Enemies earns my highest recommendation. Even though 2016 is only half done as I write this, Professor Juma’s book is probably already a shoo-in as my choice for best innovation policy book of the year. And I am certain that it will also go down as one of the decade’s most important innovation policy books. Buy the book now and read every word of it. It is well worth your time.

Additional material related to Juma’s book:

• Calestous Juma’s website at the Harvard Kennedy School
• Official book page for Innovation and Its Enemies
• Concise summary of the book from AAAS: “Why important innovations stall; understanding obstacles to change is key to future”
• Steven Overly, “Humans once opposed coffee and refrigeration. Here’s why we often hate new stuff,” Washington Post, July 21, 2016.
• Matt Ridley’s review of the book for The Times of London.

Other Related Books

In addition to the books that I already mentioned throughout this review, readers who find Juma’s book and the issues he discusses in it of interest should also consider reading these other books on innovation policy, technological governance, and regulatory capture.  Although many of them are more squarely focused on the information technology sector or other emerging technology fields, they all relate to the general subject matter and approach found throughout Juma’s book. [NOTE: Links, where provided, are to my reviews of these books.]

• The Inevitable: Understanding the 12 Technological Forces That Will Shape Our Future, by Kevin Kelly (2016)
• Innovative Governance Models for Emerging Technologies, Gary E. Marchant, Kenneth W. Abbott & Braden Allenby (eds.), (2013)
• Consent of the Networked: The Worldwide Struggle for Internet Freedom ,by Rebecca MacKinnon (2012)
• Networks and States: The Global Politics of Internet Governance, by Milton Mueller (2010)
• The Master Switch: The Rise and Fall of Information Empires, by Tim Wu (2010)
• The Rational Optimist: How Prosperity Evolves, by Matt Ridley (2010)
• Blown to Bits: Your Life, Liberty, and Happiness After the Digital Explosion, by Hal Abelson, Ken Ledeen, and Harry Lewis (2008)
• Radical Evolution: The Promise and Peril of Enhancing Our Minds, Our Bodies — and What It Means to Be Human, by Joel Garreau (2005)
• The Creation of Media, by Paul Starr (2005)
• Ruling the Waves: Cycles of Discovery, Chaos, and Wealth from the Compass to the Internet, by Debora Spar (2004)
• Questioning Technology, by Andrew Feenberg (1999)
• Thinking through Technology: The Path between Engineering and Philosophy, by Carl Mitcham (1994)
• Technologies of Freedom: On Free Speech in an Electronic Age, by Ithiel de Sola Pool (1983)

Wallach’s latest book is entitled, A Dangerous Master: How to Keep Technology from Slipping beyond Our Control. And, as I’ve noted here recently, the greatly expanded second edition of my latest book, Permissionless Innovation: The Continuing Case for Comprehensive Technological Freedom, has just been released.

Of all the books of technological criticism or skepticism that I’ve read in recent years—and I have read stacks of them!— A Dangerous Master is by far the most thoughtful and interesting. I have grown accustomed to major works of technological criticism being caustic, angry affairs. Most of them are just dripping with dystopian dread and a sense of utter exasperation and outright disgust at the pace of modern technological change.

Although he is certainly concerned about a wide variety of modern technologies—drones, robotics, nanotech, and more—Wallach isn’t a purveyor of the politics of panic. There are some moments in the book when he resorts to some hyperbolic rhetoric, such as when he frets about an impending “techstorm” and the potential, as the book’s title suggests, for technology to become a “dangerous master” of humanity. For the most part, however, his approach is deeper and more dispassionate than what is found in the leading tracts of other modern techno-critics.

Many Questions, Few Clear Answers

Wallach does a particularly good job framing the major questions about emerging technologies and their effect on society. “Navigating the future of technological possibilities is a hazardous venture,” he observes. “It begins with learning to ask the right questions—questions that reveal the pitfalls of inaction, and more importantly, the passageways available for plotting a course to a safe harbor.” (p. 7) Wallach then embarks on a 260+ page inquiry that bombards the reader with an astonishing litany of questions about the wisdom of various forms of technological innovation—both large and small. While I wasn’t about to start an exact count, I would say that the number of questions Wallach poses in the book runs well into the hundreds. In fact, many paragraphs of the book are nothing but an endless string of questions.

Thus, if there is a primary weakness with A Dangerous Master, it’s that Wallach spends so much time formulating such a long list of smart and nuanced questions that some readers may come away disappointed when they do not find equally satisfying answers. On the other hand, the lack of clear answers is also completely understandable because, as Wallach notes, there really are no simple answers to most of these questions.

Just Slow Down!

Moving on to substance, let me make clear where Wallach and I generally see eye-to-eye and where we part ways.

Generally speaking, we agree about the need to come up with better “soft governance” systems for emerging technologies, which might include multistakeholder process, developer codes of conduct, sectoral self-regulation, sensible liability rules, and so on. (More on those strategies in a moment.)

But while we both believe it is wise to consider how we might “bake-in” better ethics and norms into the process of technological development, Wallach seems much more inclined than me to expect that we will be able to pre-ordain (or potentially require?) all this happens before much of this experimentation and innovation actually moves forward. Wallach opens by asking:

Determining when to bow to the judgment of experts and whether to intervene in the deployment of a new technology is certainly not easy. How can government leaders or informed citizens effectively discern which fields of research are truly promising and which pose serious risks? Do we have the intelligence and means to mitigate the serious risks that can be anticipated? How should we prepare for unanticipated risks? (p. 6)

Again, many good questions here! But this really gets to the primary difference between Wallach’s preferred approach and my own: I tend to believe that many of these things can only be worked out through ongoing trial and error, the constant reformulation of the various norms that govern the process of innovation, and the development of sensible ex post solutions to some of the most difficult problems posed by turbulent technological change.

By contrast, Wallach’s generally attitude toward technological evolution is probably best summarized by the phrases: “Slow down!” and, “Let’s have a conversation about it first!” As he puts it in his own words: “Slowing down the accelerating adoption of technology should be done as a responsible means to ensure basic human safety and to support broadly shared values.” (p. 13)

But I tend to believe that it’s not always possible to preemptively determine which innovations to slow down, or even how to determine what those “shared values” are that will help us make this determination. More importantly, I worry that there are very serious potential risks and unintended consequences associated with slowing down many forms of technological innovation, which could improve human welfare in important ways. There can be no prosperity, after all, without a certain degree of risk-taking and disruption.

Getting Out Ahead of the Pacing Problem

Yet, what concerns Wallach most is the much-discussed issue from the field of the philosophy of technology, the so-called “pacing problem.” Wallach concisely defines the pacing problem as “the gap between the introduction of a new technology and the establishment of laws, regulations, and oversight mechanisms for shaping its safe development.” (p. 251) “There has always been a pacing problem,” he notes, but he is concerned that technological innovation—especially highly disruptive and potentially uncontrollable forms of innovation—is now accelerating at an absolutely unprecedented pace.

(Just as an aside for all the philosophy nerds out there…  Such a rigid belief in the “pacing problem” represents a techno-deterministic viewpoint that is, ironically, sometimes shared by technological skeptics like Wallach as well as technological optimists like Larry Downes and even many in the middle of this debate, like Vivek Wadhwa. See, for example, The Laws of Disruption by Downes and “Laws and Ethics Can’t Keep Pace with Technology” by Wadhwa. Although these scholars approach technology ethics and politics quite differently, they all seem to believe that the pace of modern technological change is so relentless as to almost be an unstoppable force of nature. I guess the moral of the story is that, to some extent, we’re all technological determinists now!)

Despite his repeated assertions that modern technologies are accelerating at such a potentially uncontrollable pace, Wallach nonetheless hopes we can achieve some semblance of control over emerging technologies before they reach a critical “inflection point.” In the study of history and science, an inflection point generally represents a moment when a situation and trend suddenly changes in a significant way and things begin moving rapidly in a new direction. These inflections points can sometimes develop quite abruptly, ushering in major changes by creating new social, economic, or political paradigms. As it relates to technology in particular, inflection points can refer to the moment with a particular technology achieves critical mass in terms of adoption or, more generally, to the time when that technology begins to profoundly transform the way individuals and institutions act.

Another related concept that Wallach discusses is the so-called “Collingridge dilemma,” which refers to the notion that it is difficult to put the genie back in the bottle once a given technology has reached a critical mass of public adoption or acceptance. The concept is named after David Collingridge, who wrote about this in his 1980 book, The Social Control of Technology. “The social consequences of a technology cannot be predicated early in the life of the technology,” Collingridge argued. “By the time undesirable consequences are discovered, however, the technology is often so much part of the whole economics and social fabric that its control is extremely difficult.”

On “Having a Discussion” & Coming Up with “a Broad Plan”

These related concepts of inflection points and the Collingridge dilemma constitute the operational baseline of Wallach’s worldview. “In weighing speedy development against long-term risks, speedy development wins,” he worries. “This is particularly true when the risks are uncertain and the perceived benefits great.” (p. 85)

Consequently, throughout his book, Wallach pleads with us to take what I will call Technological Time Outs. He says we need to pause at times so that we can have “a full public discussion” (p. 13) and make sure there is a “broad plan in place to manage our deployment of new technologies” (p. 19) to make sure that innovation happens only at “a humanly manageable pace” (p. 261) “to fortify the safety of people affected by unpredictable disruptions.” (p. 262) Wallach’s call for Technological Time Outs is rooted in his belief that “the accelerating pace [of modern technological innovation] undermines the quality of each of our lives.” (p. 263)

That is Wallach’s weakest assertion in the book and he doesn’t really offer much evidence to prove that the velocity of modern technological is hurting us rather than helping us, as many of us believe. Rather, he treats it as a widely accepted truism that necessitates some sort of collective effort to slow things down if the proverbial genie is about to exit the bottle, or to make sure those genies don’t get out of their bottles without a lot of preemptive planning regarding how they are to be released into the world. In the following passage on pg. 72, Wallach very succinctly summarizes his approach recommended throughout A Dangerous Master:

this book will champion the need for more upstream governance: more control over the way that potentially harmful technologies are developed or introduced into the larger society. Upstream management is certainly better than introducing regulations downstream, after a technology is deeply entrenched or something major has already gone wrong. Yet, even when we can access risks, there remain difficulties in recognizing when or determining how much control should be introduced. When does being precautionary make sense, and when is precaution an over-reaction to the risks? (p. 72)

Those who have read my Permissionless Innovation book will recall that I open by framing innovation policy debates in almost exactly the same way as Wallach suggests in that last line above. I argue in the first lines of my book that:

The central fault line in innovation policy debates today can be thought of as ‘the permission question.’  The permission question asks: Must the creators of new technologies seek the blessing of public officials before they develop and deploy their innovations? How that question is answered depends on the disposition one adopts toward new inventions and risk-taking, more generally.  Two conflicting attitudes are evident. One disposition is known as the ‘precautionary principle.’ Generally speaking, it refers to the belief that new innovations should be curtailed or disallowed until their developers can prove that they will not cause any harm to individuals, groups, specific entities, cultural norms, or various existing laws, norms, or traditions. The other vision can be labeled ‘permissionless innovation.’ It refers to the notion that experimentation with new technologies and business models should generally be permitted by default. Unless a compelling case can be made that a new invention will bring serious harm to society, innovation should be allowed to continue unabated and problems, if any develop, can be addressed later.

So, by contrasting these passages, you can see what I am setting up here is a clash of visions between what appears to be Wallach’s precautionary principle-based approach versus my own permissionless innovation-focused worldview.

How Much Formal Precaution?

But that would be a tad bit too simplistic because just a few paragraphs after Wallach makes the statement just above about “upstream management” being superior to ex post solutions formulated “after a technology is deeply entrenched,” Wallach begins slowly backing away from an overly-rigid approach to precautionary principle-based governance of technological processes and systems.

He admits, for example, that “precautionary measures in the form of regulations and governmental oversight can slow the development of research whose overall society impact will be beneficial,” (p. 26) and that can “be costly” and “slow innovation.” For countries, Wallach admits, this can have real consequences because “Countries with more stringent precautionary policies are at a competitive disadvantage to being the first to introduce a new tool or process.” (p. 74)

So, he’s willing to admit that what we might call a hard precautionary principle usually won’t be sensible or effective in practice, but he is far more open to soft precaution. But this is where real problems begin to develop with Wallach’s approach, and it presents us with a chance to turn the tables on him a bit and begin posing some serious questions about his vision for governing technology.

Much of what follows below are my miscellaneous ramblings about the current state of the intellectual dialogue about tech ethics and technological control efforts. I have discussed these issues at greater length in my new book as well as a series of essays here in past years, most notably: “On the Line between Technology Ethics vs. Technology Policy; “What Does It Mean to “Have a Conversation” about a New Technology?”; and, “Making Sure the “Trolley Problem” Doesn’t Derail Life-Saving Innovation.”

As I’ve argued in those and other essays, my biggest problem with modern technological criticism is that specifics are in scandalously short supply in this field! Indeed, I often find the lack of details in this arena to be utterly exasperating. Most modern technological criticism follows a simple formula:

TECHNOLOGY –>> POTENTIAL PROBLEMS –>> DO SOMETHING!

But almost all the details come in the discussion about the nature of the technology in question and the apparent many problems associated with it. Far, far less thought goes into the “DO SOMETHING!” part of the critics’ work. One reason for that is probably self-evident: There are no easy solutions. Wallach admits as much at many junctures throughout the book. But that doesn’t excuse the need for the critics to give us a more concrete blueprint for identifying and then potentially rectifying the supposed problems.

Of course, the other reason that many critics are short of specifics is because what they really mean when they quip how much we need to “have a conversation” about a new disruptive technology is that we need to have a conversation about stopping that technology.

Where Shall We Draw the Line between Hard and Soft Law?

But this is what I found most peculiar about Wallach’s book: He never really gives us a good standard by which to determine when we should look to hard governance (traditional top-down regulation) versus soft governance (more informal, bottom-up and non-regulatory approaches).

On one hand, he very much wants society to exercise greatly restraint and precaution when it comes to many of the technologies he and others worry about today. Again, he’s particularly concerned about the potential runaway development and use of drones, genetic editing, nanotech, robotics, and artificial intelligence. For at least one class of robotics—autonomous military robots—Wallach does call for immediate policy action in the form of an Executive Order to ban “killer” autonomous systems. (Incidentally, there’s also a major effort underway called the “Campaign to Stop Killer Robots” that aims to make such a ban part of international law through a multinational treaty.)

But Wallach also acknowledges the many trade-offs associated with efforts to preemptively controls on robotics and other technology. Perhaps for that reason, Wallach doesn’t develop a clear test for when the Precautionary Principle should be applied to new forms of innovation.

Clearly there are times when it is appropriate, although I believe it is only in an extremely narrow subset of cases. In the 2 ^nd Edition of my Permissionless Innovation book, I tried to offer a rough framework for when formal precautionary regulation (i.e., highly-restrictive policy defaults are necessary, such as operational restrictions, licensing requirements, research limitations, or even formal bans) might be necessary. I do not want to interrupt the flow of this review of Wallach’s book too much, so I have decided to just cut-and-paste that portion of Chapter 3 of my book (“When Does Precaution Make Sense?”) down below as an appendix to this essay.

The key takeaway of that passage from my book is that all of us who study innovation policy and the philosophy of technology—Wallach, myself, the whole darn movement—have done a remarkably poor job being specific about precisely when formal policy precaution is warranted. What is the test? All too often, we get lazy and apply what we might call an “I-Know-It-When-I-See-It” standard. Consider the possession of bazookas, tanks, and uranium. Almost all of us would agree that citizens should not be allowed to possess or use such things. Why? Well, it seems obvious, right? They just shouldn’t! But what is the exact standard we use to make that determination.

In coming years, I plan on spending a lot more time articulating a better test by which Precautionary Principle-based policies could be reasonably applied. Those who know me may be taken aback by what I just said. After all, I’ve spend many years explaining why Precautionary Principle-based thinking threatens human prosperity and should be rejected in the vast majority of cases. But that doesn’t excuse the lack of a serious and detailed exploration of the exact standard by which we determine when we should impose some limits on technological innovation.

Generally speaking, while I strongly believe that “permissionless innovation” should remain the policy default for most technologies, there certainly exists some scenarios where the threat of harm associated with a new innovation might be highly probable, tangible, immediate, irreversible, and catastrophic in nature. If so, that could qualify it for at least a light version of the Precautionary Principle. In a future paper or book chapter I’m just now starting to research, I hope to fuller develop those qualifiers and formulate a more robust test around them.

I would have very much liked to see Wallach articulate and defend a test of his own for when formal precaution would make sense. And, by extension, when should we default to soft precaution, or soft law and informal governance mechanisms for emerging technologies.

We turn to that issue next.

Toward Soft Governance & the Engineering of Better Technological Ethics

Even though Wallach doesn’t provide us with a test for determining when precaution makes sense or when we should instead default to soft governance, he does a much better job explaining the various models of soft law or informal governance that might help us deal with the potential negative ramifications of highly disruptive forms of technological change.

What Wallach proposes, in essence, is that we bake a dose of precautionary directly into the innovation process through a wide variety of informal governance/oversight mechanisms. “By embedding shared values in the very design of new tools and techniques, engineers improve the prospect of a positive outcome,” he claims. “The upstream embedding of shared values during the design process can ease the need for major course adjustments when it’s often too late.” (p. 261)

Wallach’s favored instrument of soft governance is what he refers to as “Governance Coordinating Committees” (GCCs). These Committees would coordinate “the separate initiatives by the various government agencies, advocacy groups, and representatives of industry” who would serve as “issue managers for the comprehensive oversight of each field of research.” (p. 250) He elaborates and details the function of GCCs as follows:

These committees, led by accomplished elders who have already achieved wide respect, are meant to work together with all the interested stakeholders to monitor technological development and formulate solutions to perceived problems. Rather than overlap with or function as a regulatory body, the committee would work together with existing institutions. (p. 250-51)

Wallach discussed the GCC idea in much greater detail in a 2013 book chapter he penned with Gary E. Marchant for a collected volume of essays on Innovative Governance Models for Emerging Technologies. (I highly recommend you pick up that book if you can afford it! Many terrific essays in that book on these issues.) In their chapter, Marchant and Wallach specify some of the soft law mechanisms we might use to instill a bit of precaution preemptively. These mechanisms include: “codes of conduct, statements of principles, partnership programs, voluntary programs and standards, certification programs and private industry initiatives.”

If done properly, GCCs could provide exactly the sort of wise counsel and smart recommendations that Wallach desires. In my book and many law review articles on various disruptive technologies, I have endorsed many of the ideas and strategies Wallach identifies. I’ve also stressed the importance of many other mechanisms, such as education and empowerment-based strategies that could help the public learn to cope with new innovations or use them appropriately. In addition, I’ve highlighted the many flexible, adaptive ex post remedies that can help when things go wrong. Those mechanisms include common law remedies such as product defects law, various torts, contract law, property law, and even class action lawsuits. Finally, I have written extensively about the very active role played by the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and other consumer protection agencies, which have broad discretion to police “unfair and deceptive practices” by innovators.

Moreover, we already have a quasi-GCC model developing today with the so-called “multistakeholder governance” model that is often used in both informal and formal ways to handle many emerging technology policy issues.  The Department of Commerce (the National Telecommunications and Information Administration in particular) and the FTC have already developed many industry codes of conduct and best practices for technologies such as biometrics, big data, the Internet of Things, online advertising, and much more. Those agencies and others (such as the FDA and FAA) are continuing to investigate other codes or guidelines for things like advanced medical devices and drones, respectively. Meanwhile, I’ve heard other policymakers and academics float the idea of “digital ombudsmen,” “data ethicists,” and “private IRBs” (institutional review boards) as other potential soft law solutions that technology companies might consider. Perhaps going forward, many tech firms will have Chief Ethical Officers just as many of them today have Chief Privacy Officers or Chief Security Officers.

In other words, there’s already a lot of “soft law” activities going on in this space. And I haven’t even begun an inventory of the many other bodies or groups that already exist in each sector today that has set forth their own industry self-regulatory codes, but they exist in almost every field that Wallach worries about.

So, I’m not sure how much his GCC idea will add to this existing mix, but I would not be opposed to them playing the sort of coordinating “issue manager” role he describes. But I still have many questions about GCC’s, including:

• How many of them are needed and how we will know which one is the definitive GCC for each sector or technology?
• If they are overly formal in character and dominated by the most vociferous opponents of any particular technology, a real danger exists that a GCC could end up granting a small cabal a “heckler’s veto” over particular forms of innovation.
• Alternatively, the possibility of “regulatory capture” could be a problem for some GCCs if incumbent companies come to dominate their membership.
• Even if everything went fairly smoothly and the GCCs produced balanced reports and recommendations, future developers might wonder if and why they are to be bound by older guidelines.
• And if those future developers choose not to play by the same set of guidelines, what’s the penalty for non-compliance?
• And how are such guidelines enforced in a world where what I’ve called “global innovation arbitrage” is an increasing reality?

Challenging Questions for Both Hard and Soft Law

To summarize, whether we are speaking of “hard” or “soft” law approaches to technological governance, I am just not nearly as optimistic as Wallach seems to be that we will be able to find consensus on these three things:

(1) what constitutes “harm” in many of these circumstances;

(2) which “shared values” should prevail when “society” debates the shaping of ethics or guiding norms for emerging technologies but has highly contradictory opinions about those values (consider online privacy as a good example, where many people enjoy hyper-sharing while other demand hyper-privacy); and,

(3) that we can create a legitimate “governing body” (or bodies) that will be responsible for formulating these guidelines in a fair way without completely derailing the benefits of innovation in new fields and also remaining relevant for very long.

Nonetheless, as he and others have suggested, the benefit of adopting a soft law/informal governance approach to these issues is that it at least seeks to address these questions in more flexible and adaptive fashion. As I noted in my book, traditional regulatory systems “tend to be overly rigid, bureaucratic, inflexible, and slow to adapt to new realities. They focus on preemptive remedies that aim to predict the future, and future hypothetical problems that may not ever come about. Worse yet, administrative regulation generally preempts or prohibits the beneficial experiments that yield new and better ways of doing things.” ( Permissionless Innovation, p. 120)

So, despite the questions I have raised here, I welcome the more flexible soft law approach that Wallach sets forth in his book. I think it represents a far more constructive way forward when compared to the opposite “top-down” or “command-and-control” regulatory systems of the past. But I very much want to make sure that even these new and more flexible soft law approaches leave plenty of breathing room for ongoing trial-and-error experimentation with new technologies and systems.

Conclusion

In closing, I want to reiterate that not only did I appreciate the excellent questions raised by Wendell Wallach in A Dangerous Master, but I take them very seriously. When I sat down to revise and expand my Permissionless Innovation book last year, I decided to include this warning from Wallach in my revised preface: “The promoters of new technologies need to speak directly to the disquiet over the trajectory of emerging fields of research. They should not ignore, avoid, or superficially dampen criticism to protect scientific research.” (p. 28–9)

As I noted, in response to Wallach: “I take this charge seriously, as should others who herald the benefits of permissionless innovation as the optimal default for technology policy. We must be willing to take on the hard questions raised by critics and then also offer constructive strategies for dealing with a world of turbulent technological change.”

Serious questions deserve serious answers. Of course, sometimes those posing those questions fail to provide many answers of their own! Perhaps it is because they believe the questions answer themselves. Other times, it’s because they are willing to admit that easy answers to these questions typically prove quite elusive. In Wallach’s case, I believe it’s more the latter.

To wrap up, I’ll just reiterated that both Wallach and I share a common desire to find solutions to the hard questions about technological innovation. But the crucial question that probably separates his worldview and my own is this: Whether we are talking about hard or soft governance, how much faith should we place in preemptive planning vs. ongoing trial and error experimentation to solve technological challenges? Wallach is more inclined to believe we can divine these things with the sagacious foresight of “accomplished elders” and technocratic “issue managers,” who will help us slow things down until we figure out how to properly ease a new technology into society (if at all). But I believe that the only way we will find many of the answers we are searching for is by allowing still more experimentation with the very technologies that he and others seek to control the development of. We humans are outstanding problem-solvers and have the uncanny ability among all mammals to adapt to changing circumstances. We roll with the punches, learn from them, and become more resilient in the process. As I noted in my 2014 essay, “Muddling Through: How We Learn to Cope with Technological Change”:

we modern pragmatic optimists must continuously point to the unappreciated but unambiguous benefits of technological innovation and dynamic change. But we should also continue to remind the skeptics of the amazing adaptability of the human species in the face of adversity. [. . .] Humans have consistently responded to technological change in creative, and sometimes completely unexpected ways. There’s no reason to think we can’t get through modern technological disruptions using similar coping and adaptation strategies.

Will the technologies that Wallach fears bring about a “techstorm” that overwhelms our culture, our economy, and even our very humanity? It’s certainly possible, and we should continue to seriously discuss the issues that he and other skeptics raise about our expanding technological capabilities and the potential for many of them to do great harm. Because some of them truly could.

But it is equally plausible—in fact, some of us would say, highly probable—that instead of overwhelming us, we learn how to bend these new technological capabilities to our will and make them work for our collective benefit. Instead of technology becoming “a dangerous master,” we will instead make it our helpful servant, just as we have so many times before.

APPENDIX: When Does Precaution Make Sense?

[excerpt from chapter 3 of Permissionless Innovation: The Continuing Case for Comprehensive Technological Freedom. Footnotes omitted. See book for all references.]

But aren’t there times when a certain degree of precautionary policymaking makes good sense? Indeed, there are, and it is important to not dismiss every argument in favor of precautionary principle–based policymaking, even though it should not be the default policy rule in debates over technological innovation.

The challenge of determining when precautionary policies make sense comes down to weighing the (often limited) evidence about any given technology and its impact and then deciding whether the potential downsides of unrestricted use are so potentially catastrophic that trial-and-error experimentation simply cannot be allowed to continue. There certainly are some circumstances when such a precautionary rule might make sense. Governments restrict the possession of uranium and bazookas, to name just two obvious examples.

Generally speaking, permissionless innovation should remain the norm in the vast majority of cases, but there will be some scenarios where the threat of tangible, immediate, irreversible, catastrophic harm associated with new innovations could require at least a light version of the precautionary principle to be applied.  In these cases, we might be better suited to think about when an “anti-catastrophe principle” is needed, which narrows the scope of the precautionary principle and focuses it more appropriately on the most unambiguously worst-case scenarios that meet those criteria.

But most cases don’t fall into this category. Instead, we generally allow innovators and consumers to freely experiment with technologies, and even engage in risky behaviors, unless a compelling case can be made that precautionary regulation is absolutely necessary.  How is the determination made regarding when precaution makes sense? This is where the role of benefit-cost analysis (BCA) and regulatory impact analysis is essential to getting policy right.  BCA represents an effort to formally identify the tradeoffs associated with regulatory proposals and, to the maximum extent feasible, quantify those benefits and costs.  BCA generally cautions against preemptive, precautionary regulation unless all other options have been exhausted—thus allowing trial-and-error experimentation and “learning by doing” to continue. (The mechanics of BCA are discussed in more detail in section VII.)

This is not the end of the evaluation, however. Policymakers also need to consider the complexities associated with traditional regulatory remedies in a world where technological control is increasingly challenging and quite costly. It is not feasible to throw unlimited resources at every problem, because society’s resources are finite.  We must balance risk probabilities and carefully weigh the likelihood that any given intervention has a chance of creating positive change in a cost-effective fashion.  And it is also essential to take into account the potential unintended consequences and long-term costs of any given solution because, as Harvard law professor Cass Sunstein notes, “it makes no sense to take steps to avert catastrophe if those very steps would create catastrophic risks of their own.”  “The precautionary principle rests upon an illusion that actions have no consequences beyond their intended ends,” observes Frank B. Cross of the University of Texas. But “there is no such thing as a risk-free lunch. Efforts to eliminate any given risk will create some new risks,” he says.

Oftentimes, after working through all these considerations about whether to regulate new technologies or technological processes, the best solution will be to do nothing because, as noted throughout this book, we should never underestimate the amazing ingenuity and resiliency of humans to find creative solutions to the problems posed by technological change.  (Section V discusses the importance of individual and social adaptation and resiliency in greater detail.) Other times we might find that, while some solutions are needed to address the potential risks associated with new technologies, nonregulatory alternatives are also available and should be given a chance before top-down precautionary regulations are imposed. (Section VII considers those alternative solutions in more detail.)

Finally, it is again essential to reiterate that we are talking here about the dangers of precautionary thinking as a public policy prerogative—that is, precautionary regulations that are mandated and enforced by government officials. By contrast, precautionary steps may be far more wise when undertaken in a more decentralized manner by individuals, families, businesses, groups, and other organizations. In other words, as I have noted elsewhere in much longer articles on the topic, “there is a different choice architecture at work when risk is managed in a localized manner as opposed to a society-wide fashion,” and risk-mitigation strategies that might make a great deal of sense for individuals, households, or organizations, might not be nearly as effective if imposed on the entire population as a legal or regulatory directive.

Finally, at times, more morally significant issues may exist that demand an even more exhaustive exploration of the impact of technological change on humanity. Perhaps the most notable examples arise in the field of advance medical treatments and biotechnology. Genetic experimentation and human cloning, for example, raise profound questions about altering human nature or abilities as well as the relationship between generations.

The case for policy prudence in these matters is easier to make because we are quite literally talking about the future of what it means to be human.  Controversies have raged for decades over the question of when life begins and how it should end. But these debates will be greatly magnified and extended in coming years to include equally thorny philosophical questions.  Should parents be allowed to use advanced genetic technologies to select the specific attributes they desire in their children? Or should parents at least be able to take advantage of genetic screening and genome modification technologies that ensure their children won’t suffer from specific diseases or ailments once born?

Outside the realm of technologically enhanced procreation, profound questions are already being raised about the sort of technological enhancements adults might make to their own bodies. How much of the human body can be replaced with robotic or bionic technologies before we cease to be human and become cyborgs?  As another example, “biohacking”—efforts by average citizens working together to enhance various human capabilities, typically by experimenting on their own bodies —could become more prevalent in coming years.  Collaborative forums, such as Biohack.Me, already exist where individuals can share information and collaborate on various projects of this sort.  Advocates of such amateur biohacking sometimes refer to themselves as “grinders,” which Ben Popper of the Verge defines as “homebrew biohackers [who are] obsessed with the idea of human enhancement [and] who are looking for new ways to put machines into their bodies.”

These technologies and capabilities will raise thorny ethical and legal issues as they advance. Ethically, they will raise questions of what it means to be human and the limits of what people should be allowed to do to their own bodies. In the field of law, they will challenge existing health and safety regulations imposed by the FDA and other government bodies.

Again, most innovation policy debates—including most of the technologies discussed throughout this book—do not involve such morally weighty questions. In the abstract, of course, philosophers might argue that every debate about technological innovation has an impact on the future of humanity and “what it means to be human.” But few have much of a direct influence on that question, and even fewer involve the sort of potentially immediate, irreversible, or catastrophic outcomes that should concern policymakers.

In most cases, therefore, we should let trial-and-error experimentation continue because “experimentation is part and parcel of innovation” and the key to social learning and economic prosperity.  If we froze all forms of technological innovation in place while we sorted through every possible outcome, no progress would ever occur. “Experimentation matters,” notes Harvard Business School professor Stefan H. Thomke, “because it fuels the discovery and creation of knowledge and thereby leads to the development and improvement of products, processes, systems, and organizations.”

Of course, ongoing experimentation with new technologies always entails certain risks and potential downsides, but the central argument of this book is that (a) the upsides of technological innovation almost always outweigh those downsides and that (b) humans have proven remarkably resilient in the face of uncertain, ever-changing futures.

In sum, when it comes to managing or coping with the risks associated with technological change, flexibility and patience is essential. One size most certainly does not fit all. And one-size-fits-all approaches to regulating technological risk are particularly misguided when the benefits associated with technological change are so profound. Indeed, “[t]echnology is widely considered the main source of economic progress”; therefore, nothing could be more important for raising long-term living standards than creating a policy environment conducive to ongoing technological change and the freedom to innovate.

Throughout the year, I collect some of the more notable tech policy-related essays that I’ve read and then publish an end-of-year list here. (Here, for example, are my end-of-year lists from 2014 and 2013.) So, here are some of my favorite essays and editorials from 2015. (Note: They are just in chronological order. No ranking here.)

1. Larry Downes – “Take note Republicans and Democrats, this is what a pro-innovation platform looks like,” Washington Post, January 7. (Downes explains how governments need to adapt to accommodate and embrace new forms of technological innovation. He notes: “Here at home, the opportunity to wrap themselves in the flag of innovation is knocking for both parties, but so far there are few takers. Republicans and Democrats regularly invoke the rhetoric of innovation, entrepreneurship, and the transformative power of technology. But in reality neither party pursues policies that favor the disruptors. Instead, where lawmakers once took a largely hands-off approach to Silicon Valley, as the Internet revolution enters a new stage of industry transformation, the temptation to intervene, to usurp, to micromanage, to circumscribe the future — becomes irresistible.”) Equally excellent was Larry’s essay later in the year, “Fewer, Faster, Smarter.” (“As the technology revolution proceeds, the concept of government may return to its pre-industrial roots, setting the most basic rules of the economy and standing by as regulator of last resort when markets fail for some or all consumers over an extended period of time. Even then, the solution may simply be to tweak the incentives to encourage better behavior, rather than more full-fledged—and usually ill-fated—micromanagement of fast-changing industries.”)
2. Bryant Walker Smith – “Slow Down That Runaway Ethical Trolley,” CIS Blog, January 12. (Smith, a leading expert on autonomous vehicle systems, notes that, while serious ethical dilemmas will always be present with such technologies, we should not allow the perfect to be the enemy of the good. “The fundamental ethical question, in my opinion, is this: In the United States alone, tens of thousands of people die in motor vehicle crashes every year, and many more are injured. Automated vehicles have great potential to one day reduce this toll, but the path to this point will involve mistakes and crashes and fatalities. Given this stark choice, what is the proper balance between caution and urgency in bringing these systems to the market? How safe is safe enough?”)
3. Tim Worstall – “Google gets my data, I get search and email and that. Help help, I’m being OPPRESSED!” The Register, February 4. (A wicked tongue-lashing of the critics of the data-driven economy.)
4. Aki Ito – “Six Things Technology Has Made Insanely Cheap: Behold the power of American progress,” Bloomberg Business, February 5. (The title says it all.)
5. Andrew McAfee – “Who are the humanists, and why do they dislike technology so much?” Financial Times, July 7, 2015. (A brief but brilliant exploration of the philosophical fight over differing conceptions of “humanism.” McAfee, appropriately in my opinion, calls into question technological critics who self-label themselves “humanists” and then suggest that those who believe in the benefits of technological innovation and progress are somehow opposed to humanity. In reality, of course, nothing could be further from the truth!)
6. Jocelyn Brewer – “Techno-Fear is Hurting Kids, Not Their Use of Digital Devices,” July 7, 2015. (A beautiful piece that makes it clear why “the Internet… is not addictive. Technology is not a drug.” Brewer continues on to make the case for avoiding fear-based messaging about Internet problems and instead adopting a more sensible approach: “Rather than trotting out interminable lists of the negative consequences of our adoption of technology lets raise awareness of how to avoid the pitfalls of not approaching this new era with solutions and proactive thinking.” Amen, sister!)
7. Evan Ackerman – “We Should Not Ban ‘Killer Robots,’ and Here’s Why,” IEEE Spectrum, July 29, 2015, (A thought-provoking piece about a controversial subject in which Ackerman argues that “banning the technology is not going to solve the problem if the problem is the willingness of humans to use technology for evil”)
8. Tim O’Reilly – “Networks and the Nature of the Firm,” Medium, August 14, 2015.  (Explores the economics of the sharing economy and “the huge economic shift led by software and connectedness.”)
9. Joe Queenan – “America’s Need for Pointless Updates and Cat Videos,” Wall Street Journal, December 3, 2015. (“The back-to-nature, turn-off-your-cellphone movement is based on a false assumption.  . . .  Time not spent doing dumb stuff would otherwise be wasted doing other dumb stuff. It’s called ‘play,’ without which Jack is a dull boy. It is a variation on the old saying that nature abhors a vacuum. So nature created the Internet.”)
10. Dominic Basulto – “Can we just stop with all these tech dystopia stories?” Washington Post, Dec 8, 2015. (“Yes, a dystopian future is possible, but so is a utopian future. Most likely, the answer is somewhere in the middle, the way it’s been for millennia.”)

I was delivering a lecture to a group of academics and students out in San Jose recently [see the slideshow here] and someone in the crowd asked me to send them a list of some of the many books I had mentioned during my talk, which was about future policy clashes over various emerging technologies. I cut the list down to the five books that I believe best frame the nature of debates over innovation and technology policy. They are:

• Virginia Postrel, The Future and Its Enemies (1998): Contrasts the conflicting worldviews of “dynamism” and “stasis” and shows how the tensions between these two visions influences debates over technological progress. No book has had a greater influence on my own thinking about debates over innovation and progress.
• Joel Garreau, Radical Evolution: The Promise and Peril of Enhancing Our Minds, Our Bodies — and What It Means to Be Human (2005). Describes how debates about emerging technologies are typically framed in terms of “Heaven” versus “Hell” scenarios. He then offers an alternative “Prevail” paradigm explaining how we “muddle through” and prosper in the face of adversity.
• Joel Mokyr, Lever of Riches: Technological Creativity and Economic Progress (1990): One of the finest histories of technological innovation ever penned. It’s certainly my favorite. It explores how earlier technologies evolved and created social and economic tensions.
• Matt Ridley, The Rational Optimist: How Prosperity Evolves (2010): Makes the case for “rational optimism” in debates about technology and innovation and takes on pessimistic critics of technological change.
• Larry Downes, The Laws of Disruption: Harnessing the New Forces That Govern Life and Business in the Digital Age (2009): Explains how lawmaking in the information age is inexorably governed by the “law of disruption” or the fact that “technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally.” That fact, he explains, has profound ramifications for all technology policy debates going forward.

If you haven’t read these amazing books yet, add them to your collection  right now! They are worth reading again and again. They will forever change the way you think about debates over technology and innovation.

“Why hasn’t Europe fostered the kind of innovation that has spawned hugely successful technology companies?” asks James B. Stewart in an important new column for the New York Times (“A Fearless Culture Fuels U.S. Tech Giants“).

That’s a great question, and one that I have tried to answer in a series of recent essays. (See, for example, “Europe’s Choice on Innovation” and “Embracing a Culture of Permissionless Innovation.”) What I have suggested in those essays is that the starkly different outcomes on either side of the Atlantic in terms of recent economic growth and innovation can primarily be explained by cultural attitudes toward risk-taking and failure. “For innovation and growth to blossom, entrepreneurs need a clear green light from policymakers that signals a general acceptance of risk-taking—especially risk-taking that challenges existing business models and traditional ways of doing things,” I have argued. And the most powerful proof of this is to examine the amazing natural experiment that has played out on either side of the Atlantic over the past two decades with the Internet and the digital economy.

For example, an annual Booz & Company report on the world’s most innovative companies revealed that 9 of the top 10 most innovative companies are based in the U.S. and that most of them are involved in computing and digital technology. None of them are based in Europe, however. Another recent survey revealed that the world’s 15 most valuable Internet companies (based on market capitalizations) have a combined market value of nearly $2.5 trillion, but none of them are European while 11 of them are U.S. firms. Again, it is America’s tech innovators that dominate that list.

Many European officials and business leaders are waking up to this grim reality and are wondering how to reverse this situation. In his  Times essay, Stewart quotes Danish economist Jacob Kirkegaard of the Peterson Institute for International Economics, who notes that Europeans “all want a Silicon Valley. . . . But none of them can match the scale and focus on the new and truly innovative technologies you have in the United States. Europe and the rest of the world are playing catch-up, to the great frustration of policy makers there.”

OK, but why is that? Again, it comes down to those different cultural attitudes about risk and the stark differences over the potential lessons to be gained from allowing firms, business models, and entire professions to fail and/or be significantly disrupted.

Stewart quotes German economist Petra Moser on this point. He noted that “Europeans are worried. . . . They’re trying to recreate Silicon Valley in places like Munich, so far with little success,” she said. “The institutional and cultural differences are still too great.” In Europe, stability is prized,” she says. Here’s the key passage from the Stewart piece elaborating on this point:

Often overlooked in the success of American start-ups is the even greater number of failures. “Fail fast, fail often” is a Silicon Valley mantra, and the freedom to innovate is inextricably linked to the freedom to fail. In Europe, failure carries a much greater stigma than it does in the United States. Bankruptcy codes are far more punitive, in contrast to the United States, where bankruptcy is simply a rite of passage for many successful entrepreneurs.

Moreover, he notes, “Europeans are also much less receptive to the kind of truly disruptive innovation represented by a Google or a Facebook.”

And that remains the heart of the problem for Europe. What many leaders there fail to appreciate, as I noted in my earlier essays, is that:

Innovation is more likely in systems that maximize breathing room for ongoing economic and social experimentation, evolution, and adaptation. Societies that appreciate those values—and allow them to influence both social norms and policy decisions—are likely to experience greater economic growth. By contrast, those that deride such values and adopt a more precautionary policy approach are more likely to discourage innovation and languish economically.

The remarkable aversion to failure and its affect on deterring entrepreneurialism and long-term growth in Europe and elsewhere cannot be overstated. As I will argue in a forthcoming book chapter on this topic, we can conclude, paradoxically, that individuals, institutions, and countries that over-zealously seek to avoid the possibility of certain short-term failures are actually far more prone to potentially far more dangerous and systemic failures in the long-term. Put more simply: the more you try to avoid all the little failures, the harder you fail more generally. This is Europe’s fundamental predicament circa 2015.

Of course, changing long-entrenched cultural attitudes toward risk and failure can be challenging and take many years, even decades. But the path forward–at least in terms of legal policy and regulatory reforms–has been charted by Larry Downes in his new Harvard Business Review essay, “How Europe Can Create Its Own Silicon Valley.” EU policymakers, he correctly observes, will “have to learn to appreciate in the first place the profound role regulation (or the lack of it) plays in the creation of economic value in the Internet economy.” Downes then continues on to itemize some of the policy changes that would help put Europe on the right track to unlock the amazing entrepreneurial spirit that lies dormant across the continent.

Whether or not the Europeans are willing to take those steps remains to be seen. Regardless, the lesson for U.S. policymakers should be clear: If you want to continue to produce world-beating tech innovators, you must avoid Europe’s overly precautionary and highly risk-averse approach to policy. “Permissionless innovation” remains the better default policy position toward new entrepreneurs and technologies, no matter how disruptive they may be in the short-term.

My friend and frequent co-blogger Larry Downes has shown how lawmaking in the information age is inexorably governed by “The Law of Disruption” or the fact that “technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally.” This law is “a simple but unavoidable principle of modern life,” he said, and it will have profound implications for the way businesses, government, and culture evolve going forward. “As the gap between the old world and the new gets wider,” he argues, “conflicts between social, economic, political, and legal systems” will intensify and “nothing can stop the chaos that will follow.” This has profound ramifications for high-tech policymaking, or at least it should.

A powerful illustration of the Law of Disruption in action comes from this cautionary tale told by telecom attorney Jonathan Askin in his new essay, “A Remedy to Clueless Tech Lawyers.” In the early 2000s, Askin served as legal counsel to Free World Dialup (FWD), “a startup that had the potential to dramatically disrupt the telecom sector” with its peer-to-peer IP network that could provide free global voice communications. Askin notes that “FWD paved the way for another startup—Skype. But FWD was Skype before Skype was Skype. The difference was that FWD had U.S. attorneys who put the reigns on FWD to seek FCC approvals to launch free of regulatory constraints.” Here’s what happened to FWD according to Askin:

In lightning regulatory speed (18 months), the FCC acknowledged that FWD was not a telecom provider subject to onerous telecom regulations. Sounds like a victory, right? Think again. During the time it took the FCC to greenlight FWD, the foreign founders of Skype proceeded apace with no regard for U.S. regulatory approvals. The result is that Skype had a two-year head start and a growing embedded user base, making it difficult for FWD, constrained by its U.S.-trained attorneys, to compete.

FWD would eventually shut down while Skype still thrives.

This shows how, no matter how well-intentioned any particular laws or regulation may be, they will be largely ineffective and possibly quite counter-productive when stacked against the realities of the fundamental “law of disruption” because they simply will not be able to keep up with the pace of technological change. “Emerging technologies change at the speed of Moore’s Law,” Downes notes, “leaving statutes that try to define them by their technical features quickly out of date.”

With information markets evolving at the speed of Moore’s Law, I have argued here before that we should demand that public policy do so as well. We can accomplish that by applying Moore’s Law to all current and future technology policy laws and regulations through two simple principles:

• Principle #1 – Every new technology proposal should include a provision sunsetting the law or regulation 18 months to two years after enactment. Policymakers can always reenact the rule if they believe it is still sensible.
• Principle #2 – Reopen all existing technology laws and regulations and reassess their worth. If no compelling reason for their continued existence can be identified and substantiated, those laws or rules should be repealed within 18 months to two years. If a rationale for continuing existing laws and regs can be identified, the rule can be re-implemented and Principle #1 applied to it.

If critics protest that some laws and regulation are “essential” and can make the case for new or continued action, nothing is stopping Congress from legislating to continue those efforts. But when they do, they should always include a 2-year sunset provision to ensure that those rules and regulations are given a frequent fresh look.

Better yet, we should just be doing a lot less legislating and regulating in this arena. The only way to ensure that more technologies and entrepreneurs don’t end up like FWD is to make sure they don’t have to deal with mountains of regulatory red tape to begin with.

Here’s the video from a recent panel I sat on at the 4th annual Privacy Identity Innovation conference (pii2013) in downtown Seattle on September 17, 2013. The panel was entitled, “Emerging Technologies and the Fine Line between Cool and Creepy,” a topic I have written much about here in recent blog posts as well as in law review articles.  The panel was expertly moderated by the awesome Natalie Fonseca, co-founder and executive producer of the pii2013 event as well as the always excellent Tech Policy Summit. Other panelists included Terence Craig, Co-founder and CEO, PatternBuilders and Co-author, Privacy and Big Data, Jamela Debelak, Technology and Liberty Director, ACLU of Washington, and my friend Larry Downes, Consultant and Author of The Laws of Disruption, among other excellent books. We discussed how to balance out the competing tensions surround new information technologies and stressed the various ways we could alleviate the primary concerns about many of them.

(The video, which is embedded down below, lasts just under 40 minutes. The audio is a little uneven because I was too stupid to keep the microphone close to my mouth. Sorry about that!)

Attendees at the State of the ‘Net conference will be thrilled to know that Larry Downes will be making an encore performance Wednesday afternoon, January 23rd, in the Rayburn House Office Building. The noontime briefing is entitled “A Rational Response to the Privacy ‘Crisis’.” It’s appropriately named because he’ll be discussing ideas from his recent Cato policy analysis: “A Rational Response to the Privacy ‘Crisis’.”

We don’t expect news reports to exhibit the tightest legal reasoning, of course, but Sunday’s New York Times story on location privacy made a runny omelet of some important legal issues relating to privacy.

The starting point is United States v. Jones, a case the Supreme Court decided last January. The Court held that government agents violated the Fourth Amendment when they attached a GPS tracking device to a vehicle without a warrant and used it to determine the location of a suspect for four weeks. Location information can be revealing.

“Some advocacy groups view location tracking by mobile apps and ad networks as a parallel, warrantless commercial intrusion,” says the story. A location privacy bill forthcoming from Senator Al Franken (D-MN) “suggests that consumers may eventually gain some rights over their own digital footprints.”

Jones was about government agents—their freedom of action specifically disabled by the Fourth Amendment—invading a recognized property right (in one’s car) to gather data. There is little analogy to location tracking by mobile devices, apps, and networks, which are privately provided, voluntarily adopted, and which violate no recognized right. Indeed, their tracking provides various consumer benefits. The Times piece equivocates between the government’s failure to get a legally required search warrant in Jones and uses of data that some may feel “unwarranted,” in the sense of being “uncalled for under the circumstances.”

The first line of Larry Downes’ new Cato Policy Analysis, “A Rational Response to the Privacy ‘Crisis’,” could have been written for the Times‘ sloppy analogy:

“What passes today as a ‘debate’ over privacy lacks agreed-upon terms of reference, rational arguments, or concrete goals,” Downes says. The paper examines how the “creepy factor” permeates privacy debates rather than crisp thinking and clear-headed examination.

It’s not that location tracking doesn’t generate legitimate privacy concerns. It does. People don’t know how location information is collected and used. They don’t always know how to stop its collection. And the future consequence of location information collected today is unclear. But the capacity of private actors to harm individuals with location data is limited. Their incentive to do so is even smaller. And avoiding location tracking is simply done (at significant costs to convenience).

As Downes’ piece illustrates, we’ve seen this kind of debate before, and we’ll see it again: A particular innovation spurs privacy concerns and a backlash (whipped by legislators and regulators). A negotiation between consumers and industry, facilitated by the news media, advocates, and a variety of other actors, produces the way forward. As often as not, the way forward is a partial or complete embrace of the technology and its benefits. Plenty of times, the threat never materializes ( see pervasive RFID).

Downes explores the legal explanation for what happens when consumers adopt new technologies that use personal information to produce custom content and services—this question of “rights over … digital footprints.” He finds that licensing is the best explanation for what is happening. When consumers use the many online services available to them, they license data that they might otherwise control.

The legal framework Downes puts forward sets the stage for iterative, contract-based development of rules for how data may be used in the information economy. It cuts against top-down dictates like Franken’s proposal to regulate future technologies today, knowing so little of how technology or society will develop.

Ultimately, no legislature can resolve the deep and conflicted cultural issues playing out in the privacy debate. Downes characterizes that debate as revealed tension between Americans’ Davey Crockett side—the privacy-protective frontiersmen—and our collective Puritanism. We are participants in and parts of a very watchful society.

It’s worth a read, Larry Downes’s “A Rational Response to the Privacy ‘Crisis’.”

A reporter recently interviewed me for a story and asked a terrific question: Why is it that business model disruption and creative destruction seem to have sped up in recent times?  My guess — and excuse me if this seems too obvious — is that it must have something to do with the very nature of intangible, digital technologies of the new economy versus the tangible, analog technologies of the old economy. That is, in markets built largely upon binary code, the pace and nature of change becomes relentlessly hyper-Schumpeterian precisely because digital technologies and platforms are more easily disintermediated and leap-frogged than earlier tangible technologies and platforms were.  And so we get creative destruction on steroids.

Consider, for example, what constituted a “social networking site” in the old days versus today. Our old social networking sites and services in the past were town squares, parks, school parking lots, shopping malls, as well as media like newspapers, magazines, and even the mail. When we socially networked in those environments, we were creatures of our fixed, “real-space” environments as well as their many natural constraints. Disrupting, replacing, or even replicating those environments, technologies, or platforms was a monumental undertaking precisely because of the enormous costs associated with doing so.

Today, by contrast, our social networking spaces are increasingly intangible and digital. Disruption becomes much easier, and significantly cheaper, in a digital environment. This explains how the walled garden communities of the late 1990s (AOL, CompuServe, etc.) disappeared in less than a decade and gave way to sites like MySpace, which itself has already been disrupted by the likes of Facebook and Twitter, among others. And so the cycle continues, and it seems to be speeding up, probably because so much more of our modern economy is built on foundations of code.

This is not to say that every digital age giant will be easily displaced or disappear overnight. But the possibility of that happening has increased exponentially compared to the relative likelihood of the disruption of comparable platforms and technologies in the past.  The lesson here seems rather straightforward: tangibility matters.

[For further reading on this point, see “The Laws of Disruption” by Larry Downes and I also discussed some of these issues in my paper, “The Perils of Classifying Social Media Platforms as Public Utilities.”]

I’ve reviewed many tech policy books here over the years, but have only found myself in agreement with a couple of titles. One of my favorites is “The Laws of Disruption” by fellow TLF co-blogger Larry Downes.  [My short review is here]  Larry does a terrific job documenting the technological forces (or “laws” as he calls them) that our reshaping the modern economy.

The fundamental law of disruption he identifies is: ” Technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally.” Downes says this law is “a simple but unavoidable principle of modern life” and that it will have profound implications for the way businesses, government, and culture evolve going forward. “As the gap between the old world and the new gets wider,” he argues, “conflicts between social, economic, political, and legal systems” will intensify and “nothing can stop the chaos that will follow.”  He’s exactly right and I’ll be elaborating on that “law” in more detail in a new paper with Jerry Brito as well as in my next book, which I’m finishing up currently.

Anyway, with Larry’s “law” in mind, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I was reading this Reuter‘s summary of a recent editorial from the People’s Daily, the main newspaper of China’s ruling Communist Party. The commentary lambasted the Internet, social networking technologies, and online culture. It contained this gem of quote that proves the Chinese government has a firm grasp of the Law of Disruption: “We have failed to take into sufficient account just how much the Internet is a double-edged sword, and have a problem of allowing technology to advance while administration and regulation lag.”

So, the Chinese certainly get it. Regrettably, they are not about to stop trying to control the Internet, social networking platforms, or digital technology. In fact, the editorial also noted that, “Unless administration is vigorous, criminal forces, hostile forces, terrorist organizations and others could manipulate public sentiment by manufacturing bogus opinion on the Internet, damaging social stability and national security.” Ah yes, all the old “safety and security” bogeymen. If we don’t have control, the sky will fall! Lots of people think that these days, not just Chinese commies. That pessimistic Chicken Littlism is exactly what my next book aims to debunk.

Instead of living in a state of denial about the Law of Disruption or, worse yet, actively ignoring by seeking to slow or control technological change, we should instead be embracing it and finding ways to cope and adjust to the new realities of a world ubiquitous connectivity and information abundance. Progress depends on it.

Over this past week, a lot of people were making hay over this recent ReadWriteWeb story, “Facebook’s Zuckerberg Says The Age of Privacy is Over.” Seems that some people were taking issue with Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg’s suggestion that Facebook’s recent site policy changes, which generally encouraged more sharing or information, were in line with public expectations.  Most people put words in Zuckerberg’s mouth and accused him of saying that “privacy is over” or that he claimed he “is a prophet,” neither of which he actually said.  But let’s ignore the fact that some people made stuff up and get back to the point: What set people off about Facebook’s recent site changes and Zuckerberg’s rationalization of them?

I think it goes back to the fact that a lot of people want to have their cake and eat it too. “It is the paradox of the cyber era,” notes Washington Post columnist Michael Gerson: We are “a nation of exhibitionists demanding privacy.”  Indeed, that’s true, but there’s a good reason why this so-called “privacy paradox” exists. As Larry Downes, author of the brilliant new book, The Laws of Disruption, argues:

People value their privacy, but then go out of their way to give it up. There’s nothing paradoxical about it. We do value privacy. It’s just that we’re willing to trade it for services we value even more. Consumers intuitively look at the information being requested and decide whether the value they receive for disclosing it is worth the cost of their privacy. (p. 80)

That’s exactly right. When confronted with real world choices about privacy and information sharing, we often are willing to accept some trade-offs in exchange for something of value. But when we are asked about this process we are loathe to admit that we would willingly engage in such privacy-for-services trade-offs even if we do it every day of our lives.  As Michael Arrington of TechCrunch rightly points out:

the rest of us seem to be ok with Gmail. And our phone. That’s because the benefits of those products far outweigh the privacy costs. And people are going to be just fine with Facebook, too.

And he notes there are other examples of where people seemingly make these trade-offs every day, even if it seems illogical to others why they would do so.

The most articulate counter-argument to all this comes from Michael Zimmer, an assistant professor in the School of Information Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, who says:

Users want to be able to control what information they provide and to whom it is visible. That’s the essence of privacy, and it’s still very much in demand. That doesn’t make one a Luddite. It makes one a responsible user of information technology.

Well, I can generally agree with all that, but the question is what it means in practice.  After all, we’re all in favor of giving consumers more choices and empowering them to make decisions for themselves. Berin Szoka and I have again and again and again argued that:

In an ideal world, adults would be fully empowered to tailor privacy decisions, like speech decisions, to their own values and preferences (“household standards”).  Consumers would have (1) the information necessary to make informed decisions and (2) the tools and methods necessary to act upon that information. Importantly, those tools and methods would give them the ability to block the things they don’t like—annoying ads or the collection of data about them, as well as objectionable content—while also helping them find the information and content they desire.

But let’s be clear about something. Even as we move closer to this ideal state, there are still many citizens who will choose to never take advantage or privacy-enhancing tools and will never read a single privacy policy. But if you ask most of those people in a random survey, “Do you care about your privacy?” what do you think they are going to say? Well, it should be as obvious as what the answer would be to a poll question like: “Do you love your mother?”  Yes, of course we do!  But, again, how does that translate to real-world behavior? More importantly, what are the ramifications for public policy?

Last month, I sat on a panel about polls and privacy expectations at the Federal Trade Commission’s December 7th workshop on “Exploring Privacy.” I argued that, while privacy polls and surveys may offer us some interesting insights into how some in the public think about advertising and privacy in the abstract, ultimately, polls and surveys are no substitute for real-world experiments in which people make real choices, in real time, often with real money, and face many real trade-offs. [See Berin’s paper on this issue.]

I also argued that privacy is a highly subjective condition and that consumers are empowered with many real privacy controls such that they can make the privacy choices that are right for them. [See this ongoing series and this paper.] Moreover, it remains unclear what the harms are that privacy regulatory advocates are really trying to protect us against.  For these reasons, I argued that rational ignorance may often be at work since many consumers likely won’t feel the need to read privacy policies or take steps to “protect their privacy” online. Or, people just implicitly accept the fact that they are getting something of value even if it means they might also be sharing some information about themselves with others.

Which brings us back to Zuckerberg’s comments.  People expressed outrage — even if he didn’t say the things they accused him of saying — and many rushed to claim that privacy is still alive and well and worthy of protection, even if it means an onerous federal data regulation regime.  But I wonder… how many of those people left Facebook or changed their behavior in any other way after they expressed that outrage?  I suspect most people went right along with their lives and probably jumped right back on Facebook and starting sharing even more about themselves with the world.

2009 was not as big of a year for Internet and information technology (“info-tech”) policy books as 2008 was, but there were still some notable titles released that offered interesting perspectives about the future of the Net and the impact the Digital Revolution is having on our lives, culture, and economy.  So, like last year, I figured I would throw together my list of the 10 most important info-tech policy books of the year.

First, let me repeat a few of the same caveats and disclaimers that I set forth last year.  What qualifies as an “important” info-tech policy book? Simply put, it’s a title that many people are currently discussing and that we will likely be referencing for many years to come.  However, I want to be clear that merely because a book appears on my list it does not necessarily mean I agree with everything said in it. In fact, as was the case in previous years, I found much with which to disagree in my picks for the most important books of 2009 and I find that the cyber-libertarianism I subscribe to has very few fans out there.

Another caveat: Narrowly-focused titles lose a few points on my list. For example, if a book deals mostly with privacy issues, copyright law, or antitrust policy, it does not exactly qualify as the same sort of “tech policy book” as other titles found on this list since it is a narrow exploration of just one set of issues with a bearing on technology policy.

With those caveats in mind, here are my choices for the Most Important Info-Tech Policy Books of 2009.

(1) Chris Anderson – Free: The Future of a Radical Price

Chris Anderson’s 2006 book The Long Tail will be remembered as one of the most influential tech policy books of the decade.  It changed the way we talk about the digital marketplace and it instantly garnered a huge audience outside of the nerdy world of Internet policy.  While Free: The Future of a Radical Price will forever live in the shadow of The Long Tail, it too is an important book and in many ways it is a much better one.

In The Long Tail, Anderson tried too hard to invent the latest business theory du jour, and in doing so he went much too far in proclaiming that, as the subtitle of the book argued, “the future of the business is selling less of more.”  That’s just not true. While there’s certainly a lot more action in the long tail than ever before since it is so much more accessible, that does not mean the entire future of business lies in “selling less of more.”  To the contrary, the fat head of the tail is just as profitable as ever.

Free certainly contains some of the flamboyance on display in The Long Tail, but Anderson has matured as a writer and is now far more willing to point out the limitations of his theories in a business sense.  He does a splendid job in Free of creating a taxonomy of free-oriented business models to guide discussions about these issues.  And he explains how “free” can be part of many different business models and strategies. His historical treatment of the issues is outstanding and includes many entertaining examples of how these “free” strategies have been used over time to offer innovative new goods and services.

The reason his book is important for Internet policy discussions is obvious: “free” is increasingly viewed as a threat to many existing companies, industry sectors, and traditional media business models.  For example, battles about the future of journalism and search engine indexing of news sites are obviously tied up with battles over “free.”  And, it goes without saying that the traditional entertainment industry business models are increasingly challenged by “free” as many struggle to adapt to the new realities of the online world, in which “free” (primarily advertising-supported  and “freemium” models) seems to be the only model with any legs.

Much like my top pick for 2008 book of the year, Jonathan Zittrain’s The Future of the Net and How to Stop It, Chris Anderson’s Free is the most important information technology book of the year because it is the one we will still be talking about the most a decade from now.  However, unlike Zittrain’s book and thesis, which I think will be largely discredited in another ten years, Anderson’s book will likely be viewed as an important and lasting contribution to the field.

(2) Larry Downes – The Laws of Disruption: Chaos and Control in Your Virtual Future

The Laws of Disruption is the closest thing you will find to a genuine cyber-libertarian manifesto these days.  But Downes isn’t a rigid ideologue; his skepticism of government regulation of the high-tech economy is based more on practical considerations and the fundamental “law of disruption”: “technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally.” Downes says this law is “a simple but unavoidable principle of modern life” and that it will have profound implications for the way businesses, government, and culture evolve going forward. “As the gap between the old world and the new gets wider,” he argues, “conflicts between social, economic, political, and legal systems” will intensify and “nothing can stop the chaos that will follow.” In this sense, The Laws of Disruption reads like an addendum to one of Alvin Toffler’s old books on technology and futurism in that Downes is essentially walking us through the practical consequences of life in a “post-industrial society.”

In terms of what it all means for public policy, Downes doesn’t so much fear legal and regulatory over-reach the way many cyber-libertarians do. Rather, he thinks most regulatory schemes just won’t work. In essence, he is a technological fatalist or consequentialist: Progress happens whether we like it or not, so get used to it!  Thus, the “laws of disruption” he articulates serve primarily as “Just-Don’t-Bother” warnings to over-eager government meddlers. “The best way to regulate innovation is to leave it alone,” he counsels.

In terms of structure, The Laws of Disruption resembles Blown to Bits: Your Life, Liberty, and Happiness After the Digital Explosion by Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis, (which I reviewed here last year and named to my 2008 list). Both books survey a vast swath of territory — privacy, copyright, security, etc — and each chapter offers unique perspectives on each debate. In that sense, the book is useful to readers if for no other reason than you get a taste for how a wide variety of issues are playing out. Downes also owes much to Clayton M. Christensen and his seminal 1997 book The Innovator’s Dilemma: When New Technologies Cause Great Firms to Fail. Like that book, The Laws of Disruption is a business book with a strong policy hook.  That is, both books focus on advice-dishing for companies and innovators looking to “stay ahead of the curve” in the midst of relentless, gut-wrenching technological change, but the books also include important lessons regarding the public policies that should govern high-tech sectors.

I highly recommended The Laws of Disruption and found it to be the most enjoyable of all the books I read this year.

(3) Dawn C. Nunziato – Virtual Freedom: Net Neutrality and Free Speech in the Internet Age

Dawn Nunziato is the perfect foil for Larry Downes. Her book is a manifesto for cyber-collectivism and “media access theory.”  (For those unfamiliar with media access theory, see my old essay: “Your Soapbox is My Soapbox! Thoughts on the Media Access Movement in General and the Media & Democracy Coalition’s ‘Bill of Media Rights’ in Particular.”)  She attempts to bring media access theory up to date by taking the ideas made famous by Jerome Barron, Owen Fiss, Cass Sunstein, and others, and applying them to the Internet and digital technologies.  Like those earlier legal thinkers, she argues for “an affirmative conception” of the First Amendment that would allow government to use the First Amendment to “facilitate the conditions necessary for democratic self-government” (whatever that means). Net neutrality regulation becomes one of many ways she would put this theory into action. Importantly, she would not stop with ISPs. She makes the case for extending the entire regulatory regime to Google and search platforms. Welcome to the Brave New World of the the FCC as the Federal Search Commission or Federal Cloud Commission!

Her attempt to cast Net neutrality as the Internet’s First Amendment is a grotesque contortion of the real First Amendment, and a complete betrayal of the Founder’s original intentions.  As I made clear in my recent essay on “Net Neutrality Regulation & the First Amendment,” the Internet’s First Amendment is the First Amendment, not some new, top-down, heavy-handed regulatory regime that puts the Federal Communications Commission in control of the Digital Economy. Her conception of the First Amendment would convert it from a shield against government control into a sword that the government could use as it wished. It would mean that “Congress shall make no law…” would suddenly be replaced by “Congress shall make whatever law it wants” so long as it serves some amorphous “public interest.” Can you say “tyranny of the majority”?

Regardless, event though I find her views to be morally repugnant and the antithesis of true digital freedom, Nunziato’s book is a concise articulation of that vision and it deserves everyone’s attention. It serves as a blueprint for where the Net neutrality wars are taking us.

(4) David Bollier – Viral Spiral: How the Commoners Built a Digital Republic of Their Own

David Bollier’s Viral Spiral is the first major history of the “digital commons” / “free culture” movement, and despite my many person disagreements with him and this movement, it is an excellent treatment of the topic. Bollier surveys this growing intellectual movement from its early open source days to the rise of the Creative Commons and on into the present.  The cast of characters in this drama will be well-known to anyone involved in modern tech policy debates: Richard Stallman, Lawrence Lessig, Jonathan Zittrain, Yochai Benkler, et al.

There is absolutely no doubt that this intellectual movement is winning the war of ideas in cyberlaw front today, as I noted in a recent debate with Lessig and Zittrain over at Cato Unbound.  As a cyber-libertarian, I find myself occasionally at odds with these guys and this movement on a variety of policy issues, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying David Bollier’s treatment of this movement and these issues.

(5) David Post – In Search of Jefferson’s Moose: Notes on the State of Cyberspace

David Post is one of the early intellectual giants in the field of cyberlaw. Back in the days when most of us were still just trying to get our 14.4 modems to work properly to get on Al Gore’s “Information Highway,” David Post was writing essays and law review articles that were a decade ahead of their time.  In particular, his work on Internet governance and jurisdictional matters was path-breaking, and much of it is updated and extended in Jefferson’s Moose.

I must admit, however, that I was hoping for a bit more from David in this book.  Beyond just being a first-rate intellectual in this space, he is also one of the few remaining defenders of “Internet exceptionalism,” and he has genuine cyber-libertarian leanings.  After waiting almost 10 years for David to wrap this thing up after he first told me about it back around 2000, I was thinking he might come up with the sort of cyber-libertarian manifesto I’ve always hoped he would write.  Although he fell a bit short in that regard, it doesn’t mean it’s not a good book. It is. You will enjoy it no matter what cyber-philosophy you subscribe to.

Read my entire review of Jefferson’s Moose here.

(6) Dennis Baron – A Better Pencil: Readers, Writers, and the Digital Revolution

Baron’s A Better Pencil is a splendid history of techno-pessimism and the endless battles about the impact of new technologies on life and learning, something I have written about here before in my essays on “Internet optimists vs. pessimists” (See: 1, 2, 3).   Baron notes that almost as soon as people learned to put chisel to stone and then quill to paper, a great debate began about the impact of new communications technology on culture and education. And that debate rages on today with a new generation of optimists and skeptics battling over the impact that computing, the Internet, and digital technologies have on our lives and on how we learn about the world.

Baron walks us through a litany of historical examples—the printing press, the telegraph, telephones, typewriters, pocket calculators, personal computers, word processors, webpages, blogs, social-networking sites, and more—and identifies the usual pattern: we greet each new technology with deep distrust and dire warnings, but in time we adapt to the new realities. Indeed, as a species, we have an unparalleled ability to learn new ways of doing things. We don’t always like technological change, and often we deeply resent or fear it, but in the end, we learn to live with it and eventually to embrace it.  With the rise of the Internet and digital technologies, we see this pattern unfolding once again. But Baron counsels patience and understanding instead of the sort f hysteria and backlash we see from the likes of Andrew Keen, Lee Siegel and others.  It’s a refreshing and uplifting perspective.

Highly recommended. See my complete review of Baron’s A Better Pencil over at the City Journal website.

(7) Mark Helprin – Digital Barbarism: A Writer’s Manifesto

No book has been more disappointing to me in recent memory than Mark Helprin’s Digital Barbarism. As someone who still finds a lot to defend in copyright law, I was excited when I learned that one of America’s most gifted authors–and the author of my favorite literary work of the late 20th century (A Soldier of the Great War)–was taking a crack defending copyright in a short manifesto.

Alas, as I argued in my review of the book for National Review, while Helprin occasionally rises to great heights in his defense of copyright, he too often sinks to lamentable lows–by resorting to the same unbecoming rhetorical tactics used by the “cyber-mob” he seeks to condemn. Indeed, his book is filled with gratuitous vitriol and neo-Luddite ramblings about the Internet and Information Age that severely detract from his defense of copyright. Channeling the ghost of the late social critic Neil Postman, Helprin’s critique of copyright skeptics quickly turns into an all-out assault on modern digital culture and cyberspace. He argues that we are witnessing “the decline of culture,” the “mechanization of the soul,” our “intellectual and spiritual destruction,” and the rise of a movement of “wacked-out muppets led by little professors in glasses” that “threatens in a decade or two to dissolve the accomplishments of millennia, reordering the ways in which we think, write, and communicate.” And it just gets worse from there. Much like recent rants by Andrew Keen and Lee Siegel, Helprin speaks repeatedly about the “surrender of human nature” to “the machine revolution” and the corresponding need to “control the machine.”

How a man who has penned some of the most beautiful prose in modern times could craft an off-the-rails screed of this magnitude remains incomprehensible  to me.  What’s worse is that he set back the cause of defending what’s best about copyright in the process. Luckily for Helprin, there’s plenty of hysteria on the other side, as the next book on my list makes clear.

(8) William Patry – Moral Panics and the Copyright Wars

Bill Patry is an angry man. He is the anti-Helprin. The vitriol that Helprin directs against the copyright-haters is reversed in this screed and turned against not just copyright holders and content creators, but against the entire capitalist system. Patry, who is the author of a multi-volume treatise on copyright law, has done the intellectual equivalent of “going postal” within his own intellectual community. He has turned his intellectual guns on anyone and everyone who has ever had a kind word to say about copyright. He cannot find one nice thing to say about copyright or anyone who defends copyright in this book. Not one.

What’s most ironic about the book is that Patry seems utterly oblivious to the fact that in the process of critiquing the inflammatory rhetoric and “misuse of language” occasionally emanating from some copyright defenders, he goes completely over the top himself and engages in even more egregious rhetorical flourishes. Choice gems from the book include: “digital guillotines,” copyright as “cancer,” “copyright dwarves,” Maoism, the “sins” of copyright, “socialism for the wealthy,” and a comparison of the DMCA to “Mussolini’s Fascist Italy.”  Apparently when it comes to the “misuse of language,” Patry believes that two wrongs make a right.

And then there is his mind-boggling conclusion that: “I cannot think of a single significant innovation in either the creation or distribution of works of authorship that owes its origins to the copyright industries.”  Apparently, every great book, every great movie, every great video game, and ever great musical composition of the past century was done solely for the love of it all. Copyright had apparently had absolutely nothing to do with it according to Patry’s logic. That is just an astonishingly naive notion, in my opinion. Apparently this man’s hatred for copyright-related industries is so intense that it has blinded him to any potentially positive effects of copyright law. If nothing else, it would have been nice to see Mr. Patry address how it is that America is the world’s leading creator and exporter of creative arts.  Certainly copyright law must have had something to do with that!

Chapter 5 of his book makes it clear that Patry’s critique of copyright is actually rooted in a much deeper suspicion about capitalism itself.  He speaks of “the myth of economic freedom” and claims that “free market fundamentalism… destroyed much of the world’s economies.”  He then launches into a neo-Marxist critique of property rights more generally, treating property as a zero-sum game of winners and losers.  At times it all begins to sound like a rant from an old Herbert Marcuse book with questions like: “why are the interests of one social group favored over another?” and “What social objective is being furthered by the decision to privilege one group over another?”  And there’s all sorts of talk about “regulation in the public interest,” which I have critique as a meaningless non-standard here many times before.

In the end, Patry’s book will–along with Helprin’s–long be remember as marking the nadir in the “copyright wars;” a moment when grown men of great intelligence decided to trade in their integrity for the opportunity to engage in below-the-belt rhetorical cheap shots that would typically be reserved for college student debating politics over beers and shots at two in the morning.  They should both be ashamed of themselves.

(9) Gary Reback – Free the Market!  Why Only Government Can Keep the Marketplace Competitive

Gary Reback’s over-the-top ode to antitrust as the great savior of capitalism reads like an extended love letter. As I noted in my lengthy critique of his book, his fairy tale narrative of antitrust as the savior of capitalism is hopelessly one-sided, and his recommendations to expand antitrust enforcement wouldn’t “Free the Market” as he argues in his book’s shameful title, but would instead wrap it in regulatory chains.

He repeatedly insults the intelligence of the reader by claiming antitrust is supposedly not a form of economic regulation and that is can only have beneficial effects. He wants antitrust officials to intervene early and often in high-tech markets to guide markets to a supposedly better place. Reback considers just about everything “the Chicago School” taught us to be antitrust apostasy and he would like to erase four decades worth of economic literature and evidence that suggests antitrust law is a form of economic regulation and does have unintended consequences that often hurt consumer welfare.  Even if you are not an inherent antitrust skeptic like me, I think most people would hope for a better treatment of the other side of this story.

Read my lengthy review of Reback’s Strangle Free the Market here.

(10) tie – Tyler Cowen – Create Your Own Economy: The Path to Prosperity in a Disordered World and John Freeman – The Tyranny of E-Mail: The Four-Thousand-Year Journey to Your Inbox

OK, so I just couldn’t figure out which of these two to cut from the list so I took the easy way out by having them tie for the last slot!  In this case, however, there’s another reason it makes sense for both of them to round out the list: Both Freeman and Cowen explore how humans are coping with information overload–albeit from two very different perspectives.

As I noted in my lengthy essay on the topic earlier this year, Cowen is an unrepentant optimist. He believes humans have the ability to adapt to new technological realities and a world of information abundance. In fact, Cowen argues, new tools and information gathering and processing technologies actually “lengthens our attention spans in another way, namely by allowing greater specialization of knowledge.”

John Freeman, by contrast, wants us all to take a high-tech time out. Like other Internet skeptics, he is worried that cyberspace and digital technologies are reshaping humanity–and not for the better. “If we are to step off this hurtling machine, we must reassert principles that have been lost in the blur,” he argues. “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.”

Unlike most other Internet pessimists, however, Freeman’s tone is more measured and his recommendations more reasonable.  Of course, it helps that he is magical wordsmith. Even if you find yourself disagreeing with many of his ultimate conclusions–as I did–you should read The Tyranny of E-Mail for a lesson in how to construct an argument and to appreciate the gift of fine writing. It’s easily the best tract by any Net skeptic since Nick Carr’s The Big Switch, and a much better one in many ways. It will force you to ask tough questions about the impact of the Information Age on you and the world around you.  Nonetheless, I remain an unrepentant techno-optimist (albeit a pragmatic one)!

Honorable Mentions: Here are a couple of other books that I couldn’t fit on my list but that you might want to also consider adding to your bookshelf:

• Manuel Castells – Communication Power
• James Boyle – The Public Domain: Enclosing the Commons of the Mind
• Randall Stross – Planet Google: One Company’s Audacious Plan to Organize Everything We Know [my review]
• Ken Auletta – Googled: The End of the World As We Know It [my review]
• Scott Rosenberg- Say Everything: How Blogging Began, What It’s Becoming, and Why It Matters
• John W. Dozier Jr. and Sue Scheff – Google Bomb

Please let me know what titles might be missing from this list and which books you think are the best of the year.

And speaking of bookshelves, here’s my Shelfari digital bookshelf in case anyone is interested. If you hadn’t figured it out yet, I am a bit of book nerd!  My life is spent swimming through oceans of paper.  My friends often ask me, “How can you spend so much time reading?” My question back to them is: “How can you not?”