Interoperability is a topic that has long been of interest to me. How networks, platforms, and devices work with each other–or sometimes fail to–is an important engineering, business, and policy issue. Back in 2012, I spilled out over 5,000 words on the topic when reviewing John Palfrey and Urs Gasser’s excellent book, Interop: The Promise and Perils of Highly Interconnected Systems.

I’ve always struggled with the interoperability issues, however, and often avoided them became of the sheer complexity of it all. Some interesting recent essays by sci-fi author and digital activist Cory Doctorow remind me that I need to get back on top of the issue. His latest essay is a call-to-arms in favor of what he calls “adversarial interoperability.” “[T]hat’s when you create a new product or service that plugs into the existing ones without the permission of the companies that make them,” he says. “Think of third-party printer ink, alternative app stores, or independent repair shops that use compatible parts from rival manufacturers to fix your car or your phone or your tractor.”

Doctorow is a vociferous defender of expanded digital access rights of many flavors and his latest essays on interoperability expand upon his previous advocacy for open access and a general freedom to tinker. He does much of this work with the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF), which shares his commitment to expanded digital access and interoperability rights in various contexts.

I’m in league with Doctorow and EFF on some of these things, but also find myself thinking they go much too far in other ways. At root, their work and advocacy raise a profound question: should there be any general right to exclude on digital platforms? Although he doesn’t always come right out and say it, Doctorow’s work often seems like an outright rejection of any sort of property rights in networks or platforms. Generally speaking, he does not want the law to recognize any right for tech platforms to exclude using digital fences of any sort.

Where to Draw the Lines?

As someone who has authored a book about the importance of permissionless innovation, I need to be able to answer questions about where these lines between open versus closed systems are drawn. Definitions and framing matter, however. I use “permissionless innovation” as a descriptor for one possible policy disposition when considering where legal and regulatory defaults should be set. Another conception of permissionless innovation is more of an engineering ideal; a general freedom to connect, tinker, modify, etc. (I speak more about these conceptions in my latest book, Evasive Entrepreneurs.) Of course, someone advocating permissionless innovation as a policy default will sometimes be confronted with the question of what the law should say when someone behaves in an “evasive” fashion in the latter conception of permissionless innovation.

Doctorow would generally answer that question by saying that law should not be rigged to favor exclusion through laws like the DMCA (and specifically the law’s anti- circumvention provisions), Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, patent law, and various other rules and laws. “[T]he current crop of Big Tech companies has secured laws, regulations, and court decisions that have dramatically restricted adversarial interoperability.”

Generally speaking, I agree. I’m not a fan of technocratic laws or regulations that seek to micro-manage interoperability and which stack the deck in favor of exclusionary conduct with steep penalties for evasion. But does that mean adversarial interoperability should be permitted in all cases? Should there exist any sort of common law presumption one way or the other when a user or competitor seeks access to an existing private platform or device?

Specifics matter here and I don’t have time to get into all the case studies that Doctorow goes through. Some are no-brainers, like the infamous Lexmark case involving refillable printer ink cartridges. Other cases are far more complicated, at least for me. Does Epic, creator of Fortnite, have a right of adversarial interoperability that it can exercise against Apple and their AppStore? As Dirk Auer suggests in a new essay, this episode looks more like a straightforward pricing dispute. Epic is making it out to be much more than that, suggesting Apple is guilty of unfair and exclusionary practices that require a legal remedy.

Why not take that logic further and just say Apple’s App Store us tantamount to a natural monopoly or digital essential facility that Epic and everyone else is entitled to on whatever terms they want? For that matter, why not apply the same logic to Epic’s Fortnite platform or even its Unreal Engine? Does every other gaming developer have a right to piggyback on the juggernaut that Epic has built?

This gets to the core question about Doctorow’s concept of adversarial interoperability: Exactly what should common law and the courts say platform owners make access rights a simple pricing matter and say: “You pay or you are out.” Like Doctorow and EFF, I don’t want Apple to benefit from any special favors from laws like DMCA. Where we differ is that I would still leave the door open for Apple to exercise various other common law contractual rights or property rights in court.

I suspect Doctorow would deny any such claims by Apple or anyone else. If so, I would like to see him spell out in more precise terms exactly what Apple’s property rights and contractual rights are in this instance. Or, again, should we just treat the App Store as a digital commons with unfettered open access rights for developers? If so, would Apple be required to still manage the resource once it is a quasi-commons?

I think that would end miserably, but would like to hear Doctorow’s preferred approach before saying more. I suspect a lot rides on the distinction between “open” verses “proprietary” standards, but compared to Doctorow and EFF, I am willing to embrace a world of both open and proprietary systems, and many hybrids in between. I don’t want the law favoring one type over the other, but that means I need to endorse a generalized property right for digital operators such that they can still exclude others (even in the absence of artificial regulatory rights like DMCA creates). Again, I suspect Doctorow would reject that standard, preferring a generalized right of access, even if that means the platforms become de facto commons.

More Radical Steps

Elsewhere, Doctorow has said is that some of these questions would be better addressed through more aggressive antitrust regulation. Mere data portability or mandatory interoperability isn’t enough for him. “Data portability is important,” Doctorow says, “but it is no substitute for the ability to have ongoing access to a service that you’re in the process of migrating away from.”

In his latest online book on “How to Destroy Surveillance Capitalism,” Doctorow suggests that it is time to “make Big Tech small again” through an “anti-monopoly ecology movement.” That “means bans on mergers between large companies, on big companies acquiring nascent competitors, and on platform companies competing directly with the companies that rely on the platforms.” And he desires a host of other remedies.

So, here we have the convergence of interoperability policy and antitrust policy, with a layer of property confiscation layered on top apparently. “Now it’s up to us to seize the means of computation, putting that electronic nervous system under democratic, accountable control,” he insists in his latest manifesto.

What’s funny about this is that Doctorow begins most of his essays by pointing out all the ways that politics is the problem when it comes to access issues, only to end by suggesting that a lot more political meddling is the required solution. He repeatedly laments how large tech players have so often been able to convince lawmakers and regulators to pass special laws or regulations that work to their favor. Yet, in his We-Can-Build-A-Better-Bureaucrat model of things, all those old problems will apparently disappear when we get the right people in power and get rid of those nefarious capitalist schemers.

Thus, what really animates Doctorow’s advocacy for adversarial interoperability is a deep suspicion of free market capitalism and property rights in particular. In this worldview, interoperability really just becomes a Trojan Horse meant to help bring down the entire capitalist order. Am I exaggerating? “As to why things are so screwed up? Capitalism.” Those are his exact words from the conclusion of his latest book.

Adversarial Innovation & Evolutionary Interop

Still, Doctorow raises many legitimate issues about interconnection and digital access rights. But we need a better approach to work though these questions than the one he suggests.

In my lengthy review of the Palfrey and Gasser Interop book, I tried to sketch out an alternative framework for thinking seriously about these issues. I referred to my preferred approach as “experimental interoperability” or “evolutionary interoperability.” I described this as the theory that ongoing marketplace experimentation with technical standards, modes of information production and dissemination, and interoperable information systems, is almost always preferable to the artificial foreclosure of this dynamic process through state action. The former allows for better learning and coping mechanisms to develop while also incentivizing the spontaneous, natural evolution of the market and market responses.

Adversarial interoperability is important, but not nearly as important as adversarial innovation and facilities-based competition. Stated differently, access rights to existing systems is an important value, but the incentives we have in place to encourage entirely new systems is what really matters most. At some point, a generalized right of access to existing systems discourages the sort of platform-building that could help give rise to the sort of creative destruction we have seen at work repeatedly in the past and that we still need today. Taken too far, adversarial interoperability threatens to undermine this goal. Why seek to build a better alternative platform if you can just endlessly free ride off someone else’s by force of law?

Thus, I prefer to work at the margins and think through how to balance these competing claims of access / interoperability rights versus contractual / property rights. My take will be too utilitarian for not only Doctorow but also for some libertarians, who want clear answers to all these questions based upon their preferred natural law-oriented constructions of rights. The problem with that approach is that it leads to all-or-nothing extremes (complete digital property rights, or virtually none) and that approach is fundamentally unworkable and destructive. We need to work harder about how to balance these rights and values in pro-competitive, pro-innovation fashion.

There is No Such Thing as Optimal Interoperability

In sum, there is no such thing as “optimal interoperablity.” Sometimes proprietary or “closed” systems will offer the public features and options that they will find preferable to “open” ones.  “There are many reasons why consumers might prefer ‘closed’ systems – even when they have to pay a premium for them,” argues Dirk Auer in a separate essay. It could be greater convenience, security, or other things. Palfrey and Gasser correctly noted in their book that, “the state is rarely in a position to call a winner among competing technologies” (p. 174). Moreover, they concluded:

“Lawmakers need to keep in view the limits of their own effectiveness when it comes to accomplishing optimal levels of interoperability. Case studies of government intervention, especially where complex information technologies are involved, show that states tend to be ill suited to determine on their own what specific technology will be the best option for the future (p. 175)

A thousand amens to that! The law should not artificially foreclose experimentation with many different types of platforms, standards, devices and the interoperability that exists among them.

Ian Brown and Christopher T. Marsden’s new book, Regulating Code: Good Governance and Better Regulation in the Information Age, will go down as one of the most important Internet policy books of 2013 for two reasons. First, their book offers an excellent overview of how Internet regulation has unfolded on five different fronts: privacy and data protection; copyright; content censorship; social networks and user-generated content issues; and net neutrality regulation. They craft detailed case studies that incorporate important insights about how countries across the globe are dealing with these issues. Second, the authors endorse a specific normative approach to Net governance that they argue is taking hold across these policy arenas. They call their preferred policy paradigm “prosumer law” and it envisions an active role for governments, which they think should pursue “smarter regulation” of code.

In terms of organization, Brown and Marsden’s book follows the same format found in Milton Mueller’s important 2010 book Networks and States: The Global Politics of Internet Governance; both books feature meaty case studies in the middle bookended by chapters that endorse a specific approach to Internet policymaking. (Incidentally, both books were published by MIT Press.) And, also like Mueller’s book, Brown and Marsden’s Regulating Code does a somewhat better job using case studies to explore the forces shaping Internet policy across the globe than it does making the normative case for their preferred approach to these issues.

Thus, for most readers, the primary benefit of reading either book will be to see how the respective authors develop rich portraits of the institutional political economy surrounding various Internet policy issues over the past 10 to 15 years. In fact, of all the books I have read and reviewed in recent years, I cannot think of two titles that have done a better job developing detailed case studies for such a diverse set of issues. For that reason alone, both texts are important resources for those studying ongoing Internet policy developments.

That’s not to say that both books don’t also make a solid case for their preferred policy paradigms, it’s just that the normative elements of the texts are over-shadowed by the excellent case studies. As a result, readers are left wanting more detail about what their respective policy paradigms would (or should) mean in practice. Regardless, in the remainder of this review, I’ll discuss Brown and Marsden’s normative approach to digital policy and contrast it with Mueller’s since they stand in stark contrast and help frame the policy battles to come on this front.

Governing Cyberspace: Mueller vs. Brown & Marsden

Mueller’s normative goal in Networks and States was to breathe new life into the old cyber-libertarian philosophy that was more prevalent during the Net’s founding era but which has lost favor in recent years. He made the case for a “cyberliberty” movement rooted in what he described as a “denationalized liberalism” vision of Net governance. He argued that “we need to find ways to translate classical liberal rights and freedoms into a governance framework suitable for the global Internet. There can be no cyberliberty without a political movement to define, defend, and institutionalize individual rights and freedoms on a transnational scale.”

I wholeheartedly endorsed that vision in my review of Mueller’s book, even if he was a bit short on the details of how to bring it about. But it is useful to keep Mueller’s paradigm in mind because it provides a nice contrast with the approach Brown and Marsden advocate, which is quite different.

Generally speaking, Brown and Marsden reject most forms of “Internet exceptionalism” and certainly reject the sort of “cyberliberty” ethos that Mueller and I embrace. They instead endorse a fairly broad role for governments in ordering the affairs of cyberspace. In their self-described “prosumer” paradigm, the State is generally viewed as benevolent actor, well-positioned to guide the course of code development toward supposedly more enlightened ends.

Consistent with the strong focus on European policymaking found throughout the book, the authors are quite enamored with the “co-regulatory” models that have become increasing prevalent across the continent. Like many other scholars and policy advocates today, they occasionally call for “multi-stakeholderism” as a solution but they do not necessarily mean the sort of truly voluntary, bottom-up multi-stakeholderism of the Net’s early days. Rather, they are usually thinking of multi-stakeholderism as what is essentially pluralistic politics; it’s the government setting the table, inviting the stakeholders to it, and then guiding (or at least “nudging”) policy along the way. “We are convinced that fudging with nudges needs to be reinforced with the reality of regulation and coregulation, in order to enable prosumers to maximize their potential on the broadband Internet,” they say. (p. 187)

Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss?

Thus, despite the new gloss, their “prosumer law” paradigm ends up sounding quite a bit like a rehash of traditional “public interest” law and common carrier regulation, albeit with a new appreciation of just how dynamics markets built on code can be. Indeed, Brown and Marsden repeatedly acknowledge how often law and regulation fails to keep pace with the rapid evolution of digital technology. “Code changes quickly, user adoption more slowly, legal contracting and judicial adaptation to new technologies slower yet, and regulation through legislation slowest of all,” they correctly note (p. xv). This reflects what Larry Downes refers to as the most fundamental “law of disruption” of the digital age: “technology changes exponentially, but social, economic, and legal systems change incrementally.”

At the end of the day, however, that insight doesn’t seem to inform Brown and Marsden’s policy prescriptions all that much. Theirs is a world in which policy tinkering errors will apparently be corrected promptly and efficiently by still more policy tinkering, or “smarter regulation.” Moreover, like many other Internet policy scholars today, they don’t mind regulatory interventions that come early and often since they believe that will help regulators get out ahead of the technological curve and steer markets in preferred directions. “If regulators fail to address regulatory objects at first, then the regulatory object can grow until its technique overwhelms the regulator,” they say (p. 31).

This is the same mentality that is often on display in Tim Wu’s work, which I have been quite critical of here and elsewhere. For example, Wu has advocated informal “agency threats” and the use of “threat regimes” to accomplish policy goals that prove difficult to steer though the formal democratic rulemaking process. As part of his “defense of regulatory threats in particular contexts,” Wu stresses the importance of regulators taking control of fast-moving tech markets early in their life cycles. “Threat regimes,” Wu argues, “are best justified when the industry is undergoing rapid change — under conditions of ‘high uncertainty.’ Highly informal regimes are most useful, that is, when the agency faces a problem in an environment in which facts are highly unclear and evolving. Examples include periods surrounding a newly invented technology or business model, or a practice about which little is known,” Wu concludes.

This is essentially where most of the “co-regulation” schemes that Brown and Marsden favor would take us: Code regulators would take an active role in shaping the evolution of digital technologies and markets early in its life cycle. What are the preferred regulatory mechanisms? Like Wu and many other cyberlaw professors today, Brown and Marsden favor robust interconnection and interoperability mandates bolstered by antitrust actions as well. And, again, they aren’t willing to wait around and let the courts adjudicate these issues in an ex post fashion. “Essential facilities law is a very poor substitute for the active role of prosumer law that we advocate, especially in its Chicago school minimalist phase” (p. 185). In other words, we shouldn’t wait for someone to bring a case and litigate it through the courts when preemptive, proactive regulatory interventions can sagaciously steer us to a superior end.

More specifically, they propose that “competition authorities should impose ex ante interoperability requirements upon dominant social utilities… to minimize network barriers” (p. 190) and they model this on traditional regulatory schemes such as must-carry obligations, API interface disclosure requirements, and other interconnection mandates (such as those imposed on AOL/Time Warner a decade ago to alleviate fears about instant messaging dominance). They also note that “Effective, scalable state regulation often depends on the recruitment of intermediaries as enforcers” to help achieve various policy objectives (p. 170).

The Problem with Interoperability Über Alles

So, in essence, the Brown-Marsden Internet policy paradigm might be thought of as interoperability über alles. Interoperability and interconnection in pursuit of more “open” and “neutral” systems is generally considered an unalloyed good and most everything else is subservient to this objective.

This is a serious policy error and one that I address in great detail in my absurdly long review of John Palfrey and Urs Gasser’s Interop: The Promise and Perils of Highly Interconnected Systems. I’m not going to repeat all 6,500 words of that critique here when you can just click back and read it, but here’s the high level summary: There is no such thing as “optimal interoperability” that can be determined in an a priori fashion. Ongoing marketplace experimentation with technical standards, modes of information production and dissemination, and interoperable information systems, is almost always preferable to the artificial foreclosure of this dynamic process through state action. The former allows for better learning and coping mechanisms to develop while also incentivizing the spontaneous, natural evolution of the market and market responses. The latter (regulatory foreclosure of experimentation) limits that potential.

More importantly, when interoperability is treated as sacrosanct and forcibly imposed through top-down regulatory schemes, it will often have many unintended consequences and costs. It can even lock in existing market power and market structures by encouraging users and companies to flock to a single platform instead of trying to innovate around it. (Go back and take a look at how the “Kingsbury Commitment” — the interconnection deal from the early days of the U.S. telecom system — actually allowed AT&T to gain greater control over the industry instead of assisting independent operators.)

Citing Palfrey and Gasser, Brown and Marsden do note that “mandated interoperability is neither necessary in all cases nor necessarily desirable” (p. 32), but they don’t spend as much time as Palfrey and Gasser itemizing these trade-offs and the potential downsides of some interoperability mandates. But what frustrates me about both books is the almost quasi-religious reverence accorded to interoperability and open standards when such faith is simply not warranted after historical experience is taken into consideration.

Plenty of the best forms of digital innovation today are due to a lack of interoperability and openness. Proprietary systems have produced some of the most exciting devices (iPhone) and content (video games) of modern times. Then again, voluntary interoperable and “open” services and devices thrive, too. The key point here — and one that I develop in far greater detail in my book chapter, “The Case for Internet Optimism, Part 2 – Saving the Net From Its Supporters” — is that the market for digital services is working marvelously and providing us with choices of many different flavors. Innovation continues to unfold rapidly in both directions along the “open” vs. “closed” continuum. (Here are 30 more essays I have written on this topic if you need more proof.)

Generally speaking, we should avoid mandatory interop and openness solutions. We should instead push those approaches and solutions in a truly voluntary, bottom-up fashion. And, more importantly, we should be pushing for outside-the-box solutions of the Schumpeterian (creative destruction / disruptive innovation) variety instead of surrendering so quickly on competition through forced sharing mandates.

The Case for Patience & Policy Restraint

But Brown and Marsden clearly do not subscribe to that sort of Schumpeterian thinking. They think most code markets tip and lock into monopoly in fairly short order and that only wise interventions can rectify that. For example, they claim that Facebook’s “monopoly is now durable,” which will certainly come as a big surprise to the millions of us who do not use it all. And the story of MySpace’s rapid rise and equally precipitous fall has little bearing on this story, they argue.

But, no matter how you define the “social networking market,” here are two facts about it: First, it is still very, very young. It’s only about a decade old. Second, in that short period of time, we have already witnessed the entire first generation of players fall by the wayside. While the second generation is currently dominated by Facebook, it is by no means alone. Again, millions like me don’t use it at all and get along just fine with other “social networking” technologies, including Twitter, LinkedIn, Google+, and even older tech like email, SMS, and yes, phone calls! Accusations of “monopoly” in this space strain credulity in the extreme. I invite you to read my Mercatus working paper, “The Perils of Classifying Social Media Platforms as Public Utilities,” for a more thorough debunking of this logic. (Note: The final version of that paper will be published in the CommLaw Conspectus shortly.)

Such facts should have a bearing on the debate about regulatory interventions. We continue to witness the power of Schumpeterian rivalry as new and existing players battle in a race for the prize of market power. Brown and Marsden fear that the race is already over in many sectors and that it is time to throw in the towel and get busy regulating. But when I look around at the information technology marketplace today, I am astonished just how radically different it looks from even just a few years ago, and not just in the social media market. I have written extensively about the smartphone marketplace, where innovation continues at a frantic pace. As I noted in my essay here on “Smartphones & Schumpeter,” it’s hard to remember now, but just 6 short years ago:

• The iPhone and Android had not yet landed.
• Most of the best-selling phones of 2007 were made by Nokia and Motorola.
• Feature phones still dominated the market; smartphones were still a luxury (and a clunky luxury at that).
• There were no app stores and what “apps” did exist were mostly proprietary and device or carrier-specific; and,
• There was no 4G service.

It’s also easy to forget just how many market analysts and policy wonks were making absurd predictions at the time about how the telecom operators at the time had so much market power that they would crush new innovation without regulation. Instead, in very short order, the market was completely upended in a way that mobile providers never saw coming. There was a huge shift in relative market power flowing from the core of these markets to the fringes, especially to Apple, which wasn’t even a player in that space before the launch of the iPhone.

As I noted in concluding that piece last year, these facts should lead us to believe that this is a healthy, dynamic marketplace in action. Not even Schumpeter could have imagined creative destruction on this scale. (Just look as BlackBerry). But much the same could be said of many other sectors of the information economy.  While it is certainly true that many large players exist, we continue to see a healthy amount of churn in these markets and an astonishing amount of technological innovation.

Public Choice Insights: What History Tells Us

One would hope these realities would have a greater bearing on the policy prescriptions suggested by analysts like Brown and Marsden, but they don’t seem to. Instead, the attitude on display here is that governments can, generally speaking, act wisely and nudge efficiently to correct short-term market hiccups and set us on a better course. But there are strong reasons to question that presumption.

Specifically, what I found most regrettable about Brown and Marsden’s book was the way — like all too many books in this field these days — the authors briefly introduce “public choice” insights and concerns only to summarily dismiss them as unfounded or overblown. (See my review of Brett Frischmann’s book, Infrastructure: The Social Value of Shared Resources for a more extended discussion of this problem as it pertains to discussions about not just infrastructure regulation by the regulation of all complex industries and technologies.)

Brown and Marsden make it clear that their intentions are pure and that their methods would incorporate the lessons of the past, but they aren’t very interested in dwelling on the long, lamentable history of regulatory failures and capture in the communications and media policy sectors. They do note the dangers of a growing “security-industrial complex” and argue that “commercial actors dominate technical actors in policy debates.” They also say that the “potential for capture by regulated interests, especially large corporate lobbies, is an essential insight” that informs their approach. The problem is that it really doesn’t. They largely ignore those insights and instead imply that, to the extent this is a problem at all, we can build a better breed of bureaucrats going forward who will craft “smarter regulation” that is immune from such pressures. Or, they claim that “multi-stakeholderism” — again, the new, more activist and government-influenced conception of it — can overcome these public choice problems.

A better understanding of power politics that is informed by the wisdom of the ages would instead counsel that minimizing the scope of politicization of technology markets is the better remedy. Capture and cronyism in communications and media markets has always grown in direct proportion to the overall scope of law governing those sectors. (I invite you to read all the troubling examples of this that Brent Skorup and I have documented in our new 72-page working paper, “A History of Cronyism and Capture in the Information Technology Sector.” Warning: It makes for miserable reading but proves beyond any doubt that there is something to public choice concerns.)

To be clear, it’s not that I believe that “market failures” or “code failures” never occur, rather, as I noted in this debate with Larry Lessig, it’s that such problems are typically “better addressed by voluntary, spontaneous, bottom-up, marketplace responses than by coerced, top-down, governmental solutions. Moreover, the decisive advantage of the market-driven approach to correcting code failure comes down to the rapidity and nimbleness of those response(s).” It’s not just that traditional regulatory remedies cannot keep pace with code markets, it’s that those attempting to craft the remedies do not possess the requisite knowledge needed to know how to steer us down a superior path. (See my essay, “Antitrust & Innovation in the New Economy: The Problem with the Static Equilibrium Mindset,” for more on that point.)

Regardless, at a minimum, I expect scholars to take seriously the very real public choice problems at work in this arena. You cannot talk about the history of these sectors without acknowledging the horrifically anti-consumer policies that were often put in place at the request of one industry or another to shield themselves from disruptive innovation. No amount of wishful thinking about “prosumer” policies will change these grim political realities. Only by minimizing chances to politicize technology markets and decisions can we overcome these problems.

Conclusion

For those of us who prefer to focus on freeing code, Brown and Marsden’s Regulating Code is another reminder that liberty is increasingly a loser in Internet policy circles these days. Milton Mueller’s dream of decentralized, denationalized liberalism seems more and more unlikely as armies of policymakers, regulators, special interests, regulatory advocates, academics, and others all line up and plead for their pet interest or cause to be satisfied through pure power politics. No matter what you call it — fudging, nudging, coregulation, smart regulation, multistakeholderism, prosumer law, or whatever else, — there is no escaping the fact that we are witnessing the complete politicization of almost every facet of code creation and digital decisionmaking today.

Despite my deep reservations about a more politicized cyberspace, Brown and Marsden’s book is an important text because it is one of the most sophisticated articulations and defenses of it to date. Their book also helps us better understand the rapidly developing institutional political economy of Internet regulation in both broad and narrow policy contexts. Thus, it is worth your time and attention even if, like me, you are disheartened to be reading yet another Net policy book that ultimately endorses mandates over of markets as the primary modus operandi of the information age.

Additional Resources about the book:

• the official MIT Press website for Regulating Code
• shorter Brown & Marsden paper on “Prosumer Law” (via SSRN)
• Little Atoms podcast featuring Brown & Marsden discussing Regulating Code
• Ian Brown edited this beefy Research Handbook On Governance Of The Internet, which makes a nice complement to Regulating Code. It offers even more detailed case studies on the major issues featured in the book. A terrific resource (if you can afford it!)
• a video of Brown & Marsden discussing the book at the Oxford Internet Institute (also embedded below):

Other books you should read alongside “Regulating Code” (links are for my reviews of each):

• Milton Mueller’s Networks and States: The Global Politics of Internet Governance
• John Palfrey & Urs Gasser’s Interop: The Promise and Perils of Highly Interconnected Systems
• Rebecca MacKinnon’s Consent of the Networked: The Worldwide Struggle for Internet Freedom
• David G. Post’s In Search of Jefferson’s Moose: Notes on the State of Cyberspace
• Christopher Yoo’s The Dynamic Internet: How Technology, Users, and Businesses are Transforming the Network
• Larry Lessig’s Code (my 2-part exchange with Lessig upon Code’s 10^th anniversary: Part 1, Part 2)

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

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

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

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

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

OK, on to the list.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Other Major Releases in 2012 —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joshua Gans – Information Wants to Be Shared

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faithful readers know of my geeky love for tech policy books. I read lots of ’em. There’s a steady stream of Amazon.com boxes that piles up on my doorstop some days because my mailman can’t fit them all in my mailbox.  But I go pretty hard on all the books I review. It’s rare for me pen a glowing review. Occasionally, however, a book will come along that I think is both worthy of your time and which demands a place on your bookshelf because it is such an indispensable resource.  Access Controlled: The Shaping of Power, Rights, and Rule in Cyberspace is one of those books.

Smartly organized and edited by Ronald J. Deibert, John G. Palfrey, Rafal Rohozinski, and Jonathan Zittrain, Access Controlled is essential reading for anyone studying the methods governments are using globally to stifle online expression and dissent. As I noted of their previous edition, Access Denied: The Practice and Policy of Global Internet Filtering, there is simply no other resource out there like this; it should be required reading in every cyberlaw or information policy program.

The book, which is a project of the OpenNet Initiative (ONI), is divided into two parts. Part 1 of the book includes six chapters on “Theory and Analysis.”  They are terrifically informative essays, and the editors have made them all available online here (I’ve listed them down below with links embedded). The beefy second part of the book provides a whopping 480 pages(!) of detailed regional and country-by-country overviews of the global state of online speech controls and discuss the long-term ramifications of increasing government meddling with online networks.

In their interesting chapter on “Control and Subversion in Russian Cyberspace,” Deibert and Rohozinski create a useful taxonomy to illustrate the three general types of speech and information controls that states are deploying today. What I find most interesting is how, throughout the book, various authors document the increasing movement away from “first generation controls,” which are epitomized by “Great Firewall of China”-like filtering methods, and toward second- and third-generation controls, which are more refined and difficult to monitor. Here’s how Deibert and Rohozinski define those three classes (or “generations”) of controls:

• First-generation controls focus on denying access to specific Internet resources by directly blocking access to servers, domains, keywords, and IP addresses. This type of filtering is typically achieved by the use of specialized software or by implementing instructions manually into routers at key Internet choke points. First-generation filtering is found throughout the world, in particular among authoritarian countries, and is the phenomenon targeted for monitoring by the ONI’s methodology. In some countries, compliance with first-generation filtering is checked manually by security forces, who physically police cybercafes and ISPs. (p. 22)
• Second-generation controls aim to create a legal and normative environment and technical capabilities that enable state actors to deny access to information resources as and when needed, while reducing the possibility of blowback or discovery. Second-generation controls have an overt and a covert track. The overt track aims to legalize content controls by specifying the conditions under which access can be denied. Instruments here include the doctrine of information security as well as the application of existent laws, such as slander and defamation, to the online environment. The covert track establishes procedures and technical capabilities that allow content controls to be applied ‘‘just in time,’’ when the information being targeted has the highest value (e.g., during elections or public demonstrations), and to be applied in ways that assure plausible deniability. (p. 24)
• Unlike the first two generations of content controls, third-generation controls take a highly sophisticated, multidimensional approach to enhancing state control over national cyberspace and building capabilities for competing in informational space with potential adversaries and competitors. The key characteristic of third-generation controls is that the focus is less on denying access than successfully competing with potential threats through effective counter-information campaigns that overwhelm, discredit, or demoralize opponents. Third-generation controls also focus on the active use of surveillance and data mining as means to confuse and entrap opponents. (p. 27)

Again, the country-by-country discussions contained in Part 2 of the book document how several nations are moving toward those more sophisticated second- and third-generation information control efforts, although it appears that CIS states are on the cutting edge so far. As Deibert and Rohozinski note in their opening overview chapter: “the center of gravity of practices aimed at managing cyberspace has shifted subtly from policies and practices aimed at denying access to content to methods that seek to normalize control and the exercise of power in cyberspace through a variety of means.” (p. 6)  They also note that, just in the short time since their previous volume was published (in 2008):

a sea change has occurred in the policies and practices of Internet controls. States no longer fear pariah status by openly declaring their intent to regulate and control cyberspace. The convenient rubric of terrorism, child pornography, and cyber-security has contributed to a growing expectation that states should enforce order in cyberspace, including policing unwanted content. (p. 4)

I don’t agree with all the conclusions in the book, of course. In particular, I don’t share the somewhat lugubrious outlook most of the contributors seem to hold toward the long-term prospects for “technologies of freedom” relative to “technologies of control.” I think it’s vital to put things in some historical context in this regard. It’s important to recall that, as a communications medium, the Net is still quite young.  So, is the Net really more susceptible to State control and manipulation than previous communications technologies and platforms?  I’m not so sure, although it’s hard to find a metric to compare them in an analytically rigorous fashion. However, I’m still quite bullish on the prospect for the “technologies of freedom” that are already out there (and those yet to be developed) to help people evade many of the technologies of control being utilized by States across the globe today.

The contributors in Access Controlled don’t really come to any definitive conclusion on this issue, but some of them seem to imply that the Net is more easily manipulated than past technologies. For example, in Chapter 3, Hal Roberts and John Palfrey speak of the Internet as “surveillance-ready technology.” (p. 35).  It’s certainly true that the State has access to more data about its citizens than in the past, but it’s also true that we have more information about the State than ever before, too!  And, again, we also have access to more of those “technologies of freedom” than ever before to at least try to fight back. Compare, for example, the plight of a dissident in a Cold War-era Eastern Bloc communist state to a dissident in China or Iran today. Which one had a better chance of getting their words (or audio and video) out to the local or global community?  But let me be clear about something: I am not one of those quixotic utopians who thinks that the whole world is going to magically become more democratic and free overnight because of the existence of blogs, mobile phones, wireless networks, SMS, Twitter, YouTube, encryption, proxy servers, etc.  Nonetheless, aren’t we citizens of the modern world at least a little better off for having such technologies at our potential disposal?

Moreover, what about the scale and volume problem that would-be censors increasingly face?  Again, let’s remember how young the Net is and how many people aren’t using it aggressively (or at all) yet. The challenge of bottling-up information — or even tracking / monitoring it — is going to grow exponentially more difficult as more people get online, networks expand, digital technologies fall in cost and grow more ubiquitous, and the overall volume of data flows continues to expand.  What sort of armies of censors and surveillance officers are going to be needed going forward to keep up with this pace of change?  Ethan Zuckerman’s chapter on “Intermediary Censorship” in Access Controlled discusses one answer that many nation-states are turning to in an effort to solve that problem: Make the middleman do it. Deputizing the middleman has been used in many contexts before, of course, but the problem for the State is that (a) the middlemen typically resent doing that sort of censoring / surveillance and (b) it is only going to grow more costly and convoluted for those middlemen to carry out the will of the State as the scale and volume problems identified above manifest themselves.

Of course, one could argue that the censoring & surveillance technologies are going to continue to grow more robust, too, and that the middlemen will always fall in line with the State’s desires if the penalties for non-compliance are steep enough.  But I can’t believe that’s how it will play out over the long haul.  At some point, something’s got to give. The technological arms race between the State and its citizens will continue to escalate, but I remain optimistic that we will live not in an “access controlled” world, but more like a “access-sorta-controlled-but-with-lots-of-holes-in-it” kind of world.

Anyway, these are not major reservations that should keep you from reading Access Controlled. Indeed, it may have been for the best that the editors and contributors chose not to go down this line of inquiry since it would have made a long book even longer and forced the contributors to divert from their generally objective positions.

I have only two other little nitpicks with the Access Controlled. First, I do not understand why the editors decided to dump the excellent old chapter from Access Denied on “Tools and Technologies of Net Filtering,” which contained some very useful schematics explaining how technologies of control work. [You can see what I mean here.]  I used to recommend that chapter to students and journalists all the time as the first stop in their investigation of online censorship issues. I hope the editors decide to update that chapter and include it in the next version of the book.  Second, I was quite surprised there wasn’t more discussion of HerdictWeb in the book. Herdict, which I have praised here in the past, “seeks to present a real-time picture of Web site accessibility and inaccessibility… by crowdsourcing data from individuals around the world.”  I think I only saw one mention of Herdict in Access Controlled.  I thought it would figure more prominently in this version of the book.

Those small quibbles aside, I want to congratulate all the editors and contributors to the marvelous volume.  Access Controlled is an indispensable resource that I can wholeheartedly endorse as a “must-have” for your info-tech policy bookshelf.  Buy it now.

Chapter 1

• Beyond Denial: Introducing Next Generation Information Access Controls Ron Deibert and Rafal Rohozinski

Chapter 2

• Control and Subversion in Russian Cyberspace Ron Deibert and Rafal Rohozinski

Chapter 3

• The EU Data Retention Directive in an Era of Internet Surveillance Hal Roberts and John Palfrey

Chapter 4

• Barriers to cooperation: An analysis of the origins of international efforts to protect children online Nart Villeneuve

Chapter 5

• Intermediary Censorship Ethan Zuckerman

Chapter 6

• Protecting Privacy and Expression Online: Can the Global Network Initiative embrace the character of the Net? Colin Maclay

Faithful readers know of my geeky love of tech policy books [here are my “best of” lists for 2008 & 2009], and the intriguing battle taking place today between Internet optimists and pessimists in particular.  One of the things that I noticed when I was putting together my compendium, “The Digital Decade’s Definitive Reading List: Internet & Info-Tech Policy Books of the 2000s,” is that there are up years and down years. For example, there weren’t a lot of big tech policy titles in 2000 or 2005. By contrast, 2001, 2006 and 2008 were monster years.  I suppose that’s the case with any genre, of course.

Anyway, I was beginning to think that 2010 was shaping up to be one of those slow years, with Jaron Lanier’s You Are Not a Gadget being the only major release so far this year. [See my review of it here.] But there are some very important titles on the way that are worth picking up. I’ve already pre-ordered most of these and am looking forward to reviewing them all soon:

• Ronald J. Deibert, John G. Palfrey, Rafal Rohozinski and Jonathan Zittrain (eds.) – Access Controlled: The Shaping of Power, Rights, and Rule in Cyberspace (now out)
• Nick Carr – The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains (June)
• Clay Shirky – Cognitive Surplus: Creativity and Generosity in a Connected Age (June)
• Tim Wu – The Master Switch: The Rise and Fall of Information Empires (November)
• Siva Vaidhyanathan, The Googlization of Everything
• Evgeny Morozov — How Dictators Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Web

Please let me know others that I may be missing. [Note: Most of the books I’ve been reading this year have more to do with the future of media, the press, journalism, etc. It’s been a big year for books like that. For example, McChesney & Nichols’ The Death and Life of American Journalism; Lee Bollinger’s Uninhibited, Robust, and Wide-Open: A Free Press for a New Century; and Bob Garfield’s The Chaos Scenario. But it’s not clear any of these books belong in the “info-tech policy” genre, although they all have something to say about the impact of the Internet and digital technology on the media and journalism. So, who knows, maybe I will add them to my end of year list.]

By Adam Thierer & Berin Szoka

Short but very important essay here from Santa Clara University Law School Prof. Eric Goldman about calls to alter Sec. 230 of the Communications Decency Act (CDA) to address concerns about online harassment. Generally speaking, Sec. 230 immunizes online intermediaries from punishing liability for the content that travels over their networks / services. Specifically, Sec. 230 stipulates that “No provider or user of an interactive computer service shall be treated as the publisher or speaker of any information provided by another information content provider.” In other words: Don’t shoot the messenger!

As we’ve noted here before, it is probably not an overstatement to think of Sec. 230 as the very cornerstone of Internet Freedom, since it makes possible an online “utopia for utopias,” to borrow a phrase from our favorite modern political philosopher, the late Robert Nozick. Without Sec. 230, intermediaries would likely be forced to shut down many avenues of communication and would have to become deputized conduct and morality police for every cyber-street corner.

Goldman, America’s leading expert on Sec. 230-related jurisprudence, correctly notes that, “Frequently, § 230’s critics do not attack the immunization generally, but instead advocate a new limited exception for their pet concern.” He’s got that right. Indeed, we are increasingly hearing calls from numerous quarters these days to “tweak 230” for one pet concern after another. We’ve illustrated some of those concerns in this exhibit.

Deputization of the Middleman http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf Regulatory advocates can be found for each of these issues who like to see the protections afforded by Sec. 230 scaled back by Congress or he courts. But Goldman rightly warns:

Harvard’s Jonathan Zittrain has launched an interesting new project called “HerdictWeb,” which “seeks to gain insight into what users around the world are experiencing in terms of web accessibility; or in other words, determine the herdict.”  It’s a useful tool for determining whether governments are blocking certain websites for whatever reason.  Here’s Zittrain’s sock puppet video with all the details!

The website is quite slick and very user-friendly, and they’ve even created a downloadable Firefox button that will automatically check site accessibility while you’re surfing the Net.

The information gathered from this effort will be useful for the OpenNet Initiative that Zittrain and John Palfrey co-created (with others from Univ. of Toronto, Oxford Univ., and Univ. of Cambridge) and wrote about in their excellent book, Access Denied: The Practice and Policy of Global Internet Filtering, which was one of my favorite technology policy books of the past year.  The data collected will give them, and us, a fuller picture of just how widespread global filtering and censorship efforts really are.  I encourage you to take a look and spread the word, especially to those in foreign countries who could probably use it more than us. (Of course, their governments will likely block Herdict once the word gets around!)

I’ve just finished reading Blown to Bits: Your Life, Liberty, and Happiness After the Digital Explosion, by Hal Abelson, Ken Ledeen, and Harry Lewis, and it’s another title worth adding to your tech policy reading list. The authors survey a broad swath of tech policy territory — privacy, search, encryption, free speech, copyright, spectrum policy — and provide the reader with a wonderful history and technology primer on each topic.

I like the approach and tone they use throughout the book. It is certainly something more than “Internet Policy for Dummies.” It’s more like “Internet Policy for the Educated Layman”: a nice mix of background, policy, and advice. I think Ray Lodato’s Slashdot review gets it generally right in noting that, “Each chapter will alternatively interest you and leave you appalled (and perhaps a little frightened). You will be given the insight to protect yourself a little better, and it provides background for intelligent discussions about the legalities that impact our use of technology.”

Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis aren’t really seeking to be polemical in this book by advancing a single thesis or worldview. To the extent the book’s chapters are guided by any central theme, it comes in the form of the “two basic morals about technology” they outline in Chapter 1:

The first is that information technology is inherently neither good nor bad — it can be used for good or ill, to free us or to shackle us. Second, new technology brings social change, and change comes with both risks and opportunities. All of us, and all of our public agencies and private institutions, have a say in whether technology will be used for good or ill and whether we will fall prey to its risks or prosper from the opportunities it creates. (p. 14)

Mostly, what they aim to show is that digital technology is reshaping society and, whether we like or it not, we better get used to it — and quick!  “The digital explosion is changing the world as much as printing once did — and some of the changes are catching us unaware, blowing to bits our assumptions about the way the world works… The explosion, and the social disruption that it will create, have barely begun.” (p 3)

In that sense, most chapters discuss how technology and technological change can be both a blessing and a curse, but the authors are generally more optimistic than pessimistic about the impact of the Net and digital technology on our society. What follows is a quick summary of some of the major issues covered in Blown to Bits.

Privacy: In the chapter on privacy, the authors conclude that it is increasingly difficult to bottle up our personal information and protect it and ourselves entirely from the outside world. “Despite the very best efforts, and the most sophisticated technologies, we can not control the spread of our private information. And we often want information to be made public to serve our own, or society’s purposes.” (p. 70) They argue that there still may be some ways to deal with the misuse of information and that some new technologies might be able to help protect our privacy at the margins. Generally speaking, however, this is a losing battle, and, more importantly, there is an increasing tension between privacy and freedom of speech:

A continuing border war is likely to be waged, however, along an existing free speech front: the line separating my right to tell the truth about you from your right not to have that information used against you. In the realm of privacy, the digital explosion has left matters deeply unsettled. (p. 70)

These are issues I discussed in more detail in my recent review of Daniel Solove’s important new book, Understanding Privacy. Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis are right to point out that these tensions are only going to increase in coming years and their chapter outlines many of the new fault lines in the debate over online privacy.

Encryption: Having followed the “crypto wars” closely in the mid-1990s, I also found their chapter on cryptography intriguing. The authors note that encryption has gone mainstream. “Keys are cheap. Secret messages are everywhere on the Internet. We are all cryptographers now.” Despite that, the authors note that “very little email is encrypted today.” With the exception of some human rights groups and some particularly privacy-sensitive users, most of us are perfectly content to send our e-mails unencrypted. They argue that there are three reasons most people are unconcerned about their e-mail privacy:

First, there is still little awareness of how easily our e-mail can be captured as the packets flow through the Internet. […] Second, there is little concern because most ordinary citizens feel they have little to hide, so why would anyone bother looking? […] Finally, encrypted email is not built into the Internet infrastructure in the way encrypted web browsing is. (p. 191-92)

They continue and conclude:

Overall, the public seems unconcerned about privacy of communication today, and that privacy fervor that permeated the crypto wars a decade ago is nowhere to be seen. In a very real sense, the dystopian predictions of both sides of that debate are being realized: On the one hand, encryption technology is readily available around the world, and people can hide the contents of their messages, just as law-enforcement feared… At the same time, the spread of the Internet has been accompanied by an increase in surveillance, just as the opponents of encryption regulation feared. (p. 193)

Actually, I’m not sure there really was a “privacy fervor that permeated the crypto wars a decade ago.” Many of us who argued passionately for crypto-freedom back then knew it was unlikely that the masses were going to rush right out and start encrypting all their mail the minute the policy battle ended. In reality, most of us live pretty mundane lives and just don’t care enough to go through the hassle of encrypting the random chatter of e-mail. But it was the principle of the matter that counted — the government should never be given the keys to unlock all private communications. That is what we were fighting about in the crypto wars — not the necessity of everyone encyrpting every e-mail they sent.

Importantly, however, the authors correctly note how the truly beneficial result of the fight for crypto-freedom was an explosion of online commerce, facilitated by behind-the-scenes crypto protecting our transactions. Amazon, eBay, and many other e-commerce vendors, both big and small, have prospered because of strong crypto. That was the security blanket many of us needed before we were willing to take the plunge and begin doing most of our shopping and financial transactions online. This is a great public policy success story, and Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis do a wonderful job relaying it to the reader.

Online Free Speech / Age Verification: As a passionate First Amendment advocate, the chapter on free speech issues was also of great interest to me. The authors run through the early history of efforts to censor online speech, including the Communications Decency Act of 1996 (CDA) and the Child Online Protection Act of 1998 (COPA), and bring us right up to speed with congressional efforts such as the Deleting Online Predators Act (DOPA), which would ban social networking sites and services in publicly funded schools and libraries. “DOPA, which has not passed into law, is the latest battle in a long war between conflicting values,” note the authors. “On the one hand, society has an interest in keeping unwanted information away from children. On the other hand, society as a whole has an interest in maximizing open communication.” (p. 231)

Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis go on to outline the dangers of online censorship and the importance of defending the First Amendment from new legislative and regulatory attacks, but they would have done well to cite the growing diversity of parental control tools and methods that are now on the market. I share their passion for defending free speech values, but it is equally important we work hard to show parents and policymakers how many effective self-help tools and strategies are out there on the market today to help them guide — or even control — their child’s media and Internet experiences. Not everyone is equally excited about what a world of media abundance offers us, or out children. If we hope to continue to fend off attacks on the First Amendment, we have to make sure parents are empowered to mentor their kids and limit access to content they find objectionable so they don’t expect Uncle Sam to play the role of national nanny.

I was glad to see the authors spend some time focusing on online age verification / identity authentication since that is probably the most important free speech debate raging today. [I’ve written quite a bit here about the battle over online age verification for social networking sites and other online sites.] The authors point out Congress already attempted to impose age verification on the Internet when they passed the Child Online Protection Act in 1998. “The big problem,” the authors note, “was that these methods either didn’t work or didn’t even exist.” (p. 248) Indeed, the effort in COPA to require “adult personal identification numbers” or a “digital certificate that verifies age” was in their words, “basically a plea from Congress for the industry to come up with some technical magic for determining age at a distance.” (p. 248)  And things really haven’t advanced much since then, they argue:

In the state-of-the-art, however, computers can’t reliably tell the if party on the other end of the communications link is a human or is another computer. For a computer to tell whether a human is over or under the age of 17, even imperfectly, would be very hard indeed. Mischievous 15-year-olds could get around any simple screening system that could be used in the home. The Internet just isn’t like a magazine store. (p. 249)

I hope policymakers are listening — especially the many stubborn state attorneys general who continue to push age verification as a silver-bullet solution to online child safety concerns.

Spectrum Policy: The authors point out how the death of media scarcity has profound implications for the future of speech regulation and spectrum policy alike. “As a society,” they argue, “we simply have to confront the reality that our mindset about radio and television is wrong. It has been shaped by decades of the scarcity argument.” (p. 292)  Regarding what it means for speech controls, they note:

If almost anyone can now send information that many people can receive, perhaps the government’s interest in restricting transmissions should be less than what it once was, not greater. In the absence of scarcity, perhaps the government should have no more authority over what gets said on radio and TV than it does over what gets printed in newspapers. (p. 261)

I couldn’t agree more, and I’ve written voluminously on the topic of creating a “consistent First Amendment standard for the Information Age.” Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis seem to agree with what I said there when they argue:

Other regulation of broadcast words and images should end. Its legal foundation survives no longer in the newly engineered world of information. There are too many ways for the information to reach us. We need to take responsibility for what we see, and what our children are allowed to see. And they must be educated to live in a world of information plenty. (p. 293)

The death of the scarcity doctrine should also have a profound impact on the future spectrum policy decisions, they say. Perhaps scarcity-based rationales for regulation made (some) sense in the past, but:

These were facts of the technology of the time. They were true, but they were contingent truths of engineering. They were never universal laws of physics, and are no longer limitations of technology. Because of engineering innovations over the past 20 years, there is no practically significant “natural limitation” on the number of broadcast stations. Arguments from inevitable scarcity can no longer justify U.S. government denials of the use of the airwaves. The vast regulatory infrastructure, built to rationalize use of the spectrum but much more limited radio technology, has adjusted slowly — as it almost inevitably must: Bureaucracies don’t move as quickly as technological innovators. The FCC tries to anticipate resource needs centrally and far in advance. But technology can cause abrupt changes in supply, and market forces can cause abrupt changes in demand. Central planning works no better for the FCC than it did for the Soviet Union. (p. 272)

I completely agree, although challenging questions remain about how to get us out of the current mess. Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis argue that “commons-based” approaches make the most sense. I am certainly open to the idea of treating certain swaths of spectrum as a commons, but it’s important to recognize that this does not necessarily get the regulators completely out of the picture. In fact, as my TLF colleague Jerry Brito has persuasively argued, there is the real potential that the FCC could become an aggressive device regulator if we switch to this approach. “A ‘commons’ model is not a third way between regulation and property, it is just another kind of regulation,” Brito concludes. That’s why I continue to believe that a property rights-based approach for most spectrum allocation makes the most sense and will get the spectrum deployed for its most highly-valued use. Commons-based approaches should supplement, not supplant, that model.

Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis also fail to sweat the details about how to handle the issue of incumbent spectrum users in the transition to their preferred commons-based model. That strikes me as a pretty big problem. They repeatedly mention how incumbents often seek to block beneficial spectrum reforms — which is no doubt true on some occasions — but that doesn’t mean incumbent spectrum holders don’t have legitimate rights in their existing allocations that should be honored. I would hope that, even if they wanted to go with a pure commons approach going forward, the authors would at least be willing to grandfather-in existing spectrum users. If the goal is to encourage them to vacate what they currently have, incentivize them with flexible use and resale rights. For example, for the right price, a lot of broadcast spectrum holders might be willing to give up their current allotment. Alternatively, if flexible use was allowed, they might deploy their spectrum for a different purpose. Unfortunately, both of these options are currently prohibited by the FCC’s command-and-control regulatory system.

Overall, however, I enjoyed the spectrum chapter and found the history and technology primer in this chapter to be the best in the book.

Copyright: The authors have a strongly-worded chapter on copyright that generally argues for relaxing copyright protections. Interestingly, however, (unless I am missing something) I notice they don’t offer their book for free download on their site.  I’m always intrigued by copyright critics who refuse to put their own content online. Apparently, it’s another case of ‘copying is good for me, but not for thee.’ Regardless, in their copyright chapter, they argue that:

The war over copyright and the Internet has been escalating for more than 15 years. It is a spiral of more and more technology that makes it ever easier for more and more people to share more and more information. This explosion is countered by a legislative response that brings more and more acts within the scope of copyright enforcement, subject to punishments that grow ever more severe. Regulation tries to keep pace by banning technology, sometimes even before the technology exists… If we cannot slow the arms race, tomorrow’s casualties may come to include the open Internet and dynamic of innovation that fuels the information revolution. (p. 199)

The authors make a fair point about the perils of banning technologies to protect copyright. That’s never the right answer. Regrettably, however, they pay less attention to what I regard as the legitimate concerns of copyright holders about how to protect their creative works and expressive endeavors going forward. And it’s not just about protecting large-scale industries, as they and other copyright critics are often prone to claim. It’s about whether or not we want a workable copyright system going forward. Of course, some critics wouldn’t mind seeing copyright law fade into the sunset altogether. But Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis don’t really make it clear how far they’d be willing to go. They do have a brief discussion about collective licensing approaches as a possible solution, which may be coming sooner than we think for the Net. Unfortunately, they don’t spend much time developing the details. I remain skeptical about the sensibility of that approach — especially since it will likely end up being compulsory in nature and fraught with fairness problems (i.e. Who pays in? How much? On the other end, who gets paid how much when their content appears online? etc.) Nonetheless, I think that’s where we’ll end up before the copyright wars are over, so it would have been nice to see the authors spend more time on collective licensing issues.

They also spend a lot of time discussing DRM. I was surprised by their comment that, “Developers of DRM and trusted platforms may be creating effective technologies to control the use of information, but no one has yet devised effective methods to circumscribe the limits of that control.” (p. 212) I must say, that does not seem to match up with the reality of the market we see around us today in which DRM systems are rapidly crumbling and being abandoned left and right.

Conclusion

I didn’t agree with everything in Blown to Bits, such as their unfortunate call for Net neutrality regulation. Overall, however, I enjoyed the book and recommend it. The narrative can be a little disjointed at times, almost sounding like a series of e-mail exchanges between friends (which may have been the case since the book had three authors). But the text is very accessible and contains a great deal of useful information to bring you up to speed on the hottest tech policy debates under the sun. If the authors are smart, they’ll throw the book online and update it periodically to keep it fresh. As I have found with my parental controls and Media Metrics reports, that’s the only way to keep up with the frantic pace of change in the tech policy arena — version your books like software and release periodic updates.

This book will definitely appear on my big, end-of-year “Most Important Tech Policy Books of 2008” list, which I should have wrapped up shortly. Also, I think this book makes a nice complement to Palfrey and Gasser’s Born Digital, which I reviewed here last month. And, if you are interested in another title that takes an approach similar to what Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis have taken here, you might want to check out Bruce Owen’s outstanding 1999 book “The Internet Challenge to Television.” It’s an oldy but a goodie, as I noted here.

Finally, given the title of the book and the countless times in the text that Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis talk about the “bits revolution,” how “bits are bits,” and how “bits behave strangely,” shockingly, they never seem to get around to crediting Nicholas Negroponte for his pioneering work on this front in Being Digital. Long before anybody else gave a damn about how the movement from a world of atoms to a world bits would change our entire existence, Nicholas Negroponte was preaching that gospel to the unconverted. And considering he was saying all that back in the dark (dial-up) ages of 1995, the man deserves some credit, as I have noted here before.