It’s time again to look back at the major cyberlaw and information tech policy books of the year. I’ve decided to drop the top 10 list approach I’ve used in past years (see 2008, 2009, 2010) and just use a more thematic listing of major titles released in 2011.  This thematic approach gets me out of hot water since I have found that people take numeric lists very seriously, especially when they are the author of one of the books and their title isn’t #1 on the list! Nonetheless, at the end, I will name what I regard as the most important Net policy book of the year.

I hope I’ve included all the major titles released during the year, but I ask readers to please let me know what I have missed that belongs on this list. I want this to be a useful resource to future scholars and students in the field. [Reminder: Here’s my compilation of major Internet policy books from the past decade.] Where relevant, I’ve added links to my reviews as well as discussions with the authors that Jerry Brito conducted as part of his “Surprisingly Free” podcast series. Finally, as always, I apologize to international readers for the somewhat U.S.-centric focus of this list.

Internet Freedom / General Net Regulation & Governance

Online freedom was a major theme in the field of information technology policy in 2011, especially with the continuing hullabaloo over Wikileaks as well as the various protest movements worldwide that tapped social media and mobile technologies to organize and protest. Increased government regulation and/or crackdowns often followed. Several books dealt with these issues. Morozov’s Net Delusion was one big wet blanket to the whole “Net-changes-everything” movement, but it went much too far as I noted in my lengthy review. Sifry’s book was a short manifesto making the opposite case.  Access Contested — the third edition in a series from the same authors — was another indispensable resource for Net researchers exploring censorship trends worldwide, with a particular focus on Asian countries in this latest edition. Finally, the Szoka & Marcus tome was an amazing collection of over 30 essays from a diverse group of scholars on a staggering array of topics. It was a great honor for me to contribute two chapters to the volume. I cannot recommend it highly enough—and it’s free!

• Evgeny Morozov – The Net Delusion: The Dark Side of Internet Freedom [my review] [podcast]
• Micah Sifry – WikiLeaks and the Age of Transparency [podcast]
• Ronald J. Deibert, John G. Palfrey, Rafal Rohozinski and Jonathan Zittrain – Access Contested: Security, Identity, and Resistance in Asian Cyberspace
• Eddan Katz & Ramesh Subramanian (Eds.) –The Global Flow of Information: Legal, Social, and Cultural Perspectives
• Berin Szoka & Adam Marcus (eds.) – The Next Digital Decade: Essays on the Future of the Internet
• Becky Hogge – Barefoot into Cyberspace: Adventures in Search of Techno-Utopia
• Laura DeNardis – Opening Standards: The Global Politics of Interoperability
• Chris Marsden – Internet Co-Regulation: European Law, Regulatory Governance and Legitimacy in Cyberspace
• Philip Howard – The Digital Origins of Dictatorships and Democracy: Information Technology and Political Islam
• Virginia Eubanks  – Digital Dead End: Fighting for Social Justice in the Information Age

Privacy, Security & Safety

Privacy policy and government surveillance issues have been the dominant cyberlaw policy issues of 2011, so it is unsurprising that we are starting to see more major publications in this arena. Jarvis’s book, in particular, generated intense debate and certainly represented one of the most important titles of the year. The Offensive Internet was a hugely important collection of essays since it represented the most forceful attack on the Net and freedom of speech to date. It was practically a jihad against Section 230 and online anonymity. I found it hugely troubling. The two primers on privacy listed below (by Solove & Schwartz and by Craig & Ludloff) were terrifically helpful, accessible booklets. I highly recommend students pick both of them up.

• Saul Levmore and Martha C. Nussbaum (eds.) – The Offensive Internet: Speech, Privacy & Reputation
• Jeff Jarvis – Public Parts [my review]
• Daniel Solove – Nothing to Hide: The False Tradeoff between Privacy and Security [podcast]
• Susan Landau – Surveillance or Security? The Risks Posed by New Wiretapping Technologies
• Daniel Solove & Paul M. Schwartz – Privacy Law Fundamentals
• Terence Craig and Mary Ludloff  – Privacy & Big Data
• Frederick Lane – Cybertraps for the Young

Net Pessimism / Google-phobia / Copyright

Sorry for the extremely broad grouping here, but what ties these last few titles together is a general gloominess about the Internet and what it is doing to culture, learning, dialog, or particular ways of doing business. It’s a common theme in Net policy book these days, as I have noted here before.  I found the Pariser and Vaidhyanathan books to be extremely problematic [read my reviews]. Levine’s Free Ride and Patry’s How to Fix Copyright were the major online copyright policy books this year. Levine’s book offered an outstanding history of the modern copyright wars, but I couldn’t agree with most of his recommendations. Cleland’s book was less notable for its Google-bashing than the fact it represented the beginning of an articulation of a philosophy of cyber-conservatism. Brockman’s compendium of short essays on the Net’s impact on us was a real hodge-podge of views, not all of which were pessimistic.

• Eli Pariser – The Filter Bubble: What the Internet is Hiding From You [my review]
• Siva Vaidhyanathan – The Googlization of Everything, and Why We Should Worry [my review] [podcast]
• John Brockman (ed.) –  Is the Internet Changing the Way You Think? The Net’s Impact on Our Minds and Future
• Sherry Turkle – Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other
• Scott Cleland – Search & Destroy: Why You Can’t Trust Google Inc.  [my review]
• Robert Levine – Free Ride: How the Internet is Destroying the Culture Business and How the Culture Business can Fight Back
• William Patry – How to Fix Copyright

Net Policy Book of the Year

So, what was the most important info-tech policy book of 2011? I’d say it was Evgeny Morozov’s Net Delusion. As I noted in previous end-of-year compendiums, I regard an “important” info-tech policy book as a title that many people are currently discussing and that we will likely be debating and referencing for many years to come.  In other words, it’s a book that creates a sustained buzz.  Net Delusion has certainly accomplished that in major way and Morozov’s relentless policy writing and Twitter ramblings kept him near the center of many Net policy debates in 2011.

That doesn’t mean I agree with everything in the book, or Evgeny’s style, for that matter. His Tweetstream, like many portions of his book, often drips with relentless, caustic snark-casm. I enjoy that in small doses — hell, I’ve used it myself on occasion here and on Twitter! — but it gets tiresome when dished out endlessly and with the volume turned up to 11. More generally, as I noted above, not only do I think he ultimately fails to prove his thesis but the book is riddled with contradictions regarding the proper disposition of governments and corporations toward the Net and online freedom. Morozov is great at tearing down the grandiose, cyber-utopian visions and visionaries, but he’s far less effective at suggesting a coherent alternative vision.

Nonetheless, the importance of Morozov’s work cannot be denied. He’s opened a new front in the intellectual battle over the role of the Net in various political movements and causes. He aims to spearhead what we might think of as the “realist” movement that counters the more “idealist” (he would say “utopian”) approach, which already has many adherents in global Net policy debates. Morozov has opened the door to more skeptical thinking in this regard. Many others are now likely to follow in his footsteps, and when they do, they will all cite back to The Net Delusion. Likewise, the idealists will now be forced to respond to Morozov in any future tracts. Thus, we’ll be discussing and debating the themes in The Net Delusion for many years to come. That’s why it is the most important Net policy book of 2011.

Information overload is a hot topic these days. I’ve really enjoyed recent essays by Aaron Saenz (“Are We Too Plugged In? Distracted vs. Enhanced Minds”), Michael Sacasas (“Technology Sabbaths and Other Strategies for the Digitized World“), and Peggy Noonan (“Information Overload is Nothing New“) discussing this concern in a thoughtful way.   Thoughtful discussion about this issue is sometimes hard to find because, as I’ve noted here before, information overload is a subject that bitterly divides Internet optimists and pessimists. The pessimists tend to overplay the issue and discuss it in apocalyptic terms. The optimists, by contrast, often dismiss the concern out of hand. Certainly there must be some reasonable middle ground on this issue, no?

There is, and some of it can be found in a fine new book, Hamlet’s BlackBerry: A Practical Philosophy for Building a Good Life in the Digital Age, by William Powers.  Powers, a former staff writer for the Washington Post, is a gifted storyteller and his walk though the history of philosophy and technology makes this slender volume an enjoyable, quick read.  He begins by reminding us that:

whenever new devices have emerged, they’ve presented the kinds of challenges we face today — busyness, information overload, that sense of life being out of control.  These challenges were as real two millennia ago as they are today, and throughout history, people have been grappling with them and looking for creative ways to manage life in the crowd. (p. 5)

His key insight is that humans can adapt to new technology, but it takes time, patience, humility, and a little effort. “The key is to strike a balance,” he says, between “the call of the crowd” and the “need for time and space apart” from it. (p. 4) The problem we face today is that all the pressure is on us to be what he calls “Digital Maximalists.”  That is, many of us are increasingly out to maximize the time spent in front of various digital “screens” whether we have made the determination that is really in our best interest or not. It has just gradually happened, Powers argues, because “The goal is no longer to be ‘in touch’ but to erase the possibility of ever being out of touch.” (p. 15)

Echoing the concern displayed in Nick Carr’s new book The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains [review here], as well as John Freeman, The Tyranny of E-Mail: The Four-Thousand-Year Journey to Your Inbox [review here], Powers fears that time for focus and introspection “is lost when your days are spread so thin, busyness itself is your true occupation. If every moment is a traffic jam, it’s impossible to engage any experience with one’s whole self. More and more, that’s how we live.” (p. 13)

Even though Powers clearly leans more toward the techno-pessimist camp in this regard, what I like best about his book is that he generally avoids a preachy tone and excessive hand-wringing.  He isn’t one of those techno-pessimists who adopts a holier-than-thou, the-rest-of-you-just-don’t-get-it attitude. In fact, there’s a great deal of self-deprecating humor in the book as Powers explains how he is struggling with the same issues the rest of us are and trying to figure out how to strike the right balance in his own life.  Importantly, he notes that each of us will strike that balance differently. “[E]veryone has to work that out for himself. We’re all different, and there’s no one-size-fits-all way to balance the outward life and the inward one.” (p. 203)  That is a crucial insight. There’s nothing worse than a techno-skeptic who tells us they have discovered the one true path to enlightenment or happiness — especially when it entails giving up new technologies that can have so many beneficial upsides.  Indeed, Powers argues that “It’s never a good idea to buy into the dark fears of the techno-Cassandras, who generally turn out to be wrong. Human beings are skillful at figuring out the best uses of new tools. However, it can take awhile.” (p. 3)

That very much reflects my own position on this issue, even if I tend to lean a bit more in the “pragmatic optimist” direction whereas Powers is more of a pragmatic pessimist.  Nonetheless, my own struggle with information overload and gadget addiction continues. As I have written here before in essays like, “Can Humans Cope with Information Overload?” I’ve been formulating a variety of strategies to cope and find the right balance. For me, the most successful strategy is what I refer to as “mini sabbaticals.”  I try “unplugging” for short spells each day (turning off email & phone, close web browsers, and just generally get away from my computer and other gadgets). Usually I’m offline for an hour in morning and then also in afternoon, and then a couple hours offline during evening. My wife and kids certainly appreciate it!  But it also helps me spend more “quality time” with books, writing, and other pursuits. And I’ve even started telling people not to expect a quick response from me when they call or write.  When I tell people this face-to-face, their reaction is often one of puzzlement, and in some cases even offense. I suppose some of them imagine I’m just saying this to avoid them (which may be the case!)  But I try to stick with the rule and avoid gadgets and connections for little spurts each day and it has been terrifically beneficial for me thus far.  I am able to read even more than I used to and can focus on getting other things done that are important.

Earlier this summer, I went even further.  During a week-long vacation in Germany, I decided to take day-long digital sabbaticals, only checking emails, Twitter, and RSS feeds after 10:00 at night, if at all. It was terrifically refreshing. Simply not having to carry a smartphone with me all day long was a huge relief.  But ignoring email for days at a time was wonderful too. Of course, things had really piled up upon my return to the States.  But that’s another thing I’ve learned to do to cope: Hit that delete button a little more frequently!  Do I really need to read through the hundreds of emails I get each day?  No, not really. Neither do you, I bet.

In Hamlet’s BlackBerry, Powers offers some possible solutions of his own, but they are generally in the form of practical advice about how to lead a good life. “The best solutions serve as a kind of bridge to the tech future, one that ensures that we’ll arrive with our sanity intact.” (p. 155) To find those solutions, he draws upon the wisdom of the ages from figures as diverse as Plato, Aristotle, Seneca, Shakespeare, Ben Franklin, Thoreau, and Marshall McLuhan.  For example, from Thoreau he borrows the notion of finding or creating “a zone of inner simplicity and peace” to create “Walden time” or “Walden zones.”  This could take the form of daily digital sabbaticals, or an area of the home that is free of technology at all times.  I already use variants of this rule in my own home.  Many years ago, my wife and I instituted “Media-Free Mondays” in our house so that the kids understand at least one night every week will be free of TVs, computers, video games, etc.  We use the time to play board games, do arts and crafts, or play outside more.  In other words, Mondays are the Thierer family’s “Walden Zone.”  Again, every family could come up with their own variant of the Walden Zone rule to fit their needs.  At the end of his book, Powers says that his family unplugs their modem each Friday night at bedtime and doesn’t turn it back on until Monday morning — a weekend “Internet Sabbath,” he calls it.  That seems a bit extreme to me but, again, to each his own.

I should be clear that I am not quite as pessimistic as Powers about the impact of technology on humans.  I’m not persuaded by his argument that information overload is having as deleterious of an impact on creative thinking and that “the best human creativity… happens only when we have the time and the mental space to take a new thought and follow it wherever it leads.”  And I think he goes much too far when he makes pronouncements such as “We’re living less and giving less, and the world is the worse for it.” (p. 210, italics in original.)  In both cases, I think there are plenty of counter-examples and positive trends that can be cited that prove such sweeping generalities are off the mark.  Yes, it’s certainly true that many people are struggling from data deluge and that it has complicated their lives in many ways. But the presence of these new tools and the rise of information abundance have alleviated many of the problems that previous generations lamented.  Indeed, for many centuries the primary problem we humans have faced was information poverty. We were starving for informational inputs.  That problems has been largely alleviated and instead replaced by concerns about information overload.  But my point is always a simple one: Isn’t abundance a better dilemma for society to face than scarcity?  As I told Gordon Crovitz of the Wall Street Journal recently, I’ll take information overload over information poverty any day!

Nonetheless, the struggle with information clutter will continue.  Assimilating new communications and entertainment technologies into our lives has always been challenging, but, thanks to excellent advice like that offer by William Powers in Hamlet’s BlackBerry, I am optimistic that we humans can do so sensibly and be happier — and wiser — for it in the long-run.

Other Views / Additional Reading:

• official website for the book
• a review of the book by Laurie Winer in The New York Times
• a review by David Harsanyi that appeared in The Wall Street Journal
• Jennifer Howard’s review of the book + Carr’s “The Shallows”
• a review by Heller McAlpin in The Christian Science Monitor
• a review from the Good Experience blog
• my essays on “Internet Optimists vs. Pessimists,” an earlier piece on information overload, and my reviews of related books on this subject by Carr, Lanier, Siegel, Keen, Helprin, Baron, and Shirky.
• NPR radio spot on the book
• and two videos embedded below, one from a bookstore appearance by Powers and the other is an interview with the PBS “News Hour”

I’ve noted here before that Gordon Crovitz is my favorite technology policy columnist and that everything he pens for his “Information Age” column for The Wall Street Journal is well worth reading.   His latest might be his best ever.  It touches upon the great debate between Internet optimists and pessimists regarding the impact of digital technology on our culture and economy.  His title is just perfect: “Is Technology Good or Bad? Yes.”  His point is that you can find evidence that technological change has both beneficial and detrimental impacts, and plenty of people on both sides of the debate to cite it for you.

He specifically references the leading pessimist, Nicholas Carr, and optimist, Clay Shirky, of our time. In The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains and The Big Switch: Rewiring the World, From Edison to Google, Carr paints a dismal portrait of what the Internet is doing us and the world around us. Clay Shirky responds in books like Here Comes Everybody and Cognitive Surplus: Creativity and Generosity in the a Connected Age, arguing that we are much better off because of the rise of the Net and digital technology.

This is a subject I’ve spent a lot of time noodling over here through the years and, most recently, I compiled all my random thoughts into a mega-post asking, “ Are You an Internet Optimist or Pessimist?”  That post tracks all the leading texts on both sides of this debate.  I was tickled, therefore, when Gordon contacted me and asked for comment for his story after seeing my piece. [See, people really do still read blogs!]  I told Gordon that I label my own position “pragmatic optimism,” which I summarized as follows: “The Internet and digital technologies are reshaping our culture, economy and society in most ways for the better, but not without some serious heartburn along the way.”  My bottom line comes down to a simple cost-benefit analysis: “Were we really better off in the scarcity era when we were collectively suffering from information poverty? I’ll take information overload over information poverty any day.”

Moreover, practically speaking, I don’t see any realistic way to roll back the clock to some supposed “good ‘ol days”–whenever those were.  As Gordon argues, “Whatever the mix of good and bad, technology only advances and cannot be put back in the bottle.”  Exactly right.  Thus, we need to learn to assimilate new technologies into our lives, culture, and economy.  Luckily, adaptation is something that we humans are very good at. Past experience tells us that we got through previous gut-wrenching technological / social revolutions; we can get through this one, too.  But, again, there will be rough patches and legitimate issues that need to be addressed as we make this journey.

So, make sure to check out Gordon’s article. It’s a terrifically interesting topic, and one that I still hope to turn into a book as I noted here before.

P.S. Here are a couple of other interesting essays on this topic that that have been released recently:

• Andrew McAfee’s terrific essay “I Know I’m Not the Only Internet Optimist…” from his blog
• Michiko Kakutani essay in the New York Times, “Texts Without Contexts”
• Peggy Noonan of The Wall Street Journal argues that “Information Overload is Nothing New“
• a great PBS documentary about these issues: “Digital Nation: Life on the Virtual Frontier” (+ my thoughts on the film)
• a video from a Family Online Safety Institute event about the PBS documentary that features a discussion about Internet optimism vs. pessimism

Michiko Kakutani has a very interesting essay in the New York Times entitled, “Texts Without Contexts,” which does a nice job running through the differences between Internet optimists and pessimists, a topic I’ve spent a great deal of time writing about here. (See: “Are You An Internet Optimist or Pessimist? The Great Debate over Technology’s Impact on Society.”) She surveys many of the books I’ve reviewed and discussed here before by authors such as Neil Postman, Nick Carr, Cass Sunstein, Andrew Keen, Mark Helprin, Jaron Lanier, and others. She notes:

These new books share a concern with how digital media are reshaping our political and social landscape, molding art and entertainment, even affecting the methodology of scholarship and research. They examine the consequences of the fragmentation of data that the Web produces, as news articles, novels and record albums are broken down into bits and bytes; the growing emphasis on immediacy and real-time responses; the rising tide of data and information that permeates our lives; and the emphasis that blogging and partisan political Web sites place on subjectivity. At the same time it’s clear that technology and the mechanisms of the Web have been accelerating certain trends already percolating through our culture — including the blurring of news and entertainment, a growing polarization in national politics, a deconstructionist view of literature (which emphasizes a critic’s or reader’s interpretation of a text, rather than the text’s actual content), the prominence of postmodernism in the form of mash-ups and bricolage, and a growing cultural relativism that has been advanced on the left by multiculturalists and radical feminists, who argue that history is an adjunct of identity politics, and on the right by creationists and climate-change denialists, who suggest that science is an instrument of leftist ideologues.

It’s a great debate, but a very controversial one, of course.  Anyway, go read her entire essay.

I just finished Ken Auletta’s latest book, Googled: The End of the World As We Know It, and I highly recommend it. Auletta is an amazingly gifted journalist and knows how put together a hell of good story.  It helps in this case that he was granted unprecedented access to the Google team and their day-to-day workings at the Googleplex. I’m really shocked by the level of access he was granted to important meetings and officials–over 150 interviews with Googlers, including 11 with CEO Eric Schmidt and several with founders Sergey Brin and Larry Page.  That’s impressive.

The book shares much in common with Randall Stross’s excellent Planet Google: One Company’s Audacious Plan to Organize Everything We Know, which I reviewed here earlier this year.  Both books recount the history of Google from its early origins to present. And both survey a great deal of ground in terms of the challenges that Google faces as it matures and the policy issues that are relevant to the company (privacy, free speech, copyright law, etc).

What makes Auletta’s book unique is the way we taps his extensive “old media” world contacts and integrates such a diverse cast of characters into the narrative — Mel Karmazin (former Viacom, now Sirius XM), Bob Iger (Disney), Howard Stringer (Sony), Martin Sorrrell (WPP), Irwin Gotlieb (Group M), and even the Internet’s “inventor”–Al Gore!   Auletta interviews them or recounts stories about their interactions with Google to show the growing tensions being created by this disruptive company and its highly disruptive technologies.  There are some terrifically entertaining anecdotes in the book, but the bottom line is clear: Google has made a lot of enemies in a very short time.

Indeed, the book is as much about the decline of old media as it is about Google’s ascendancy.  What Auletta has done so brilliantly here is to tell their stories together and ask how much old media’s recent woes can be blamed on Google and digital disintermediation in general. “If Google is destroying or weakening old business models,” Auletta argues, “it is because the Internet inevitably destroys old ways of doing things, spurs ‘creative destruction.’ This does not mean that Google is not ambitious to grow, and will not grow at the expense of others. But the rewards, and the pain, are unavoidable,” he concludes. Google is essentially just the tip of a giant wave of digital disintermediation that is tearing through the media landscape, Auletta argues. But because it is the biggest and most visible part of this wave, it invites greater scrutiny and scorn.  And then there are more profound questions about Google and the digital disintermediators: “What we don’t know is whether the new digital distribution systems will generate sufficient revenue to adequately pay content providers.”  Auletta isn’t just talking about old media giants, but about content creators in general. It’s the “digital sharecropper” concern that Nick Carr has articulated in his book about cloud computing, The Big Switch. [reviewed here]  In the relentless pursuit of greater efficiencies, do digital disintermediators destroy the cross-subsidization methods that have traditionally funded the creation of news, information, and entertainment? If so, are we better off because older, “less efficient” ways of doing business are replaced with better ones. Or are we instead left with less high-quality journalism and entertainment because of funding streams are drying up or being siphoned off by the new digital disintermediators?

Those are heated question frequently debated by Internet optimists and pessimists. It’s a great debate, and one that will no doubt continue to rage for many years to come. The problem for Google — as the interviews Auletta conducts with others in the book makes clear — is that it will increasingly become the scapegoat for every problem under the digital sun. “To blame Google is to prescribe a cure from the wrong illness,” Auletta notes.  Nonetheless, as the biggest and most visible of the digital disruptors, it’s clear the company will have a target on its back for many years to come.

Worse yet for Google, Aulleta states, is that the company is “waking the government bear,” not just because of its growing size but also because of the sheer amount of information it collects and puts at the world’s disposal.  Privacy, child safety, defamation, and copyright are just a few of the concerns raised by Google’s mission “to organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful.”  Google has gone to great pains to address these concerns, but it’s unlikely to ever be enough to satisfy government officials, who will be fielding increasing complaints from disgruntled competitors and activist groups at the same time.

These concerns could play into the hands of those who think antitrust action against Google is needed. Indeed, I fear that’s on the way given the myopia of Washington. As I pointed out in my lengthy review of Gary Reback’s ode to antitrust regulation, Free the Market: Why Only Government Can Keep the Marketplace Competitive, the static competition, fixed-pie mindset that rules Washington leads many to support antitrust crusades against the tech giants of the day.  In the 70s it was IBM. In the 90s it was Microsoft.  In the next decade it will likely be Google.

“Today, Google appears impregnable,” Auletta notes, “But a decade ago so did AOL, and so did the combination of AOL Time Warner.”  Indeed, I have written extensively about that deal and many others that critics predicted would bring on a techno-apocalypse.  Of course, we know how the story ended in those cases. Markets and technologies evolved while the old giants rested on their laurels. Dynamic competition and innovation are the rule; the static mindset crowd that pretends today’s giants are the end of the story just don’t have history on their side.

But that doesn’t mean Google will be able to avoid a massive regulatory onslaught. In fact, I have pending bets going right now with several friends that, before the Obama Administration leaves office, it will launch the biggest, most costly antitrust jihad in U.S. history against Google.  I can’t tell you how much I am hoping to lose those bets.

P.S. I have enjoyed many of Auletta’s earlier articles and books, especially Backstory: Inside the Business of News (2003),  but I highly recommend that you check out the latest essay he posted on his blog about “Media Maxims.”  Outstanding insights.

I very much enjoyed Dennis Baron’s new book, A Better Pencil: Readers, Writers, and the Digital Revolution, and highly recommend you pick it up. Baron does a wonderful job exploring the history of techno-pessimism and the endless battles about the impact of new technologies on life and learning, something I have written about here before in my essays on “Internet optimists vs. pessimists” (See: 1, 2, 3).

I have a complete review of Baron’s A Better Pencil now up on the City Journal‘s website here.  I’ve also pasted it down below.

Plato Wrote it Down by Adam Thierer

a review of A Better Pencil: Readers, Writers, and the Digital Revolution, by Dennis Baron (Oxford University Press, 280 pp., $24.95)

In the beginning, Dennis Baron reminds us in his new book, A Better Pencil, there was the word—the spoken word, that is. Oral tradition, the passing of knowledge through stories and lectures, was the primary method of instruction and learning throughout early human civilization. But then a few innovative souls decided to start writing everything down on stones and clay. Almost as soon as they did, a great debate began on the impact of new communications technology on culture and education. And it rages on today, with a new generation of optimists and skeptics battling over the impact that computing, the Internet, and digital technologies have on our lives and on how we learn about the world.

Baron, a professor of English and linguistics at the University of Illinois, begins his splendid history of these debates with the well-known tale from Plato’s Phaedrus about the dangers of the written word. The Egyptian god Theuth boasts to King Thamus about how his invention of writing will improve the wisdom and memory of the masses. Thamus shoots back, “The discoverer of an art is not the best judge of the good or harm which will accrue to those who practice it.” Thamus then passes judgment on writing’s impact on society, saying he fears that the people “will receive a quantity of information without proper instruction, and in consequence be thought very knowledgeable when they are for the most part quite ignorant.”

Of course, as Baron points out, we remember this warning only “because Plato wrote it down.” It’s one of the recurrent ironies in the history of techno-skepticism that while “the shock of the new often brings out critics eager to warn us away,” those critics often embrace—or, at the very least, benefit from—the very tools that they want the rest of us to shun. Whether it’s Luddites On-Line winning Yahoo’s “Cool Site of the Day” award, or the Writing Instrument Manufacturers Association promoting National Handwriting Day via the Internet, or Ted Kaczynski’s Unabomber Manifesto attracting unprecedented readership thanks to its availability on the Web, those who have a “common tendency to romanticize the good old ways” of doing things often fail to appreciate how new technology can benefit society—including themselves.

Baron walks us through a litany of historical examples—the printing press, the telegraph, telephones, typewriters, pocket calculators, personal computers, word processors, webpages, blogs, social-networking sites, and more—and identifies the usual pattern: we greet each new technology with deep distrust and dire warnings, but in time we adapt to the new realities. Indeed, as a species, we have an unparalleled ability to learn new ways of doing things. We don’t always like technological change, and often we deeply resent or fear it, but in the end, we learn to live with it and eventually to embrace it.

With the rise of the Internet and digital technologies, we see this pattern unfolding once again. “According to the latest generation of critics and naysayers,” Baron notes, “today it is computers that are producing texts whose value and credibility we question; computers that are giving too many people control over the creation and publication of text; computers that are wreaking havoc with our handwriting.” Contemporary critics also fret over “information overload.”

The backlash against computers and digitization began while the Internet was still in its cradle, with the 1992 publication of Neil Postman’s anti-technology screed, Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology. Postman’s intellectual descendants include Internet critics such as Lee Siegel, Andrew Keen, and Mark Helprin, whose works drip with disdain for all things digital. They warn of a coming dystopia where truth and authority vanish, culture crumbles, and political polarization breeds closed-mindedness and even the death of deliberative democracy.

These overly pessimistic critics turn a blind eye to both the wonders of the digital age and humanity’s ability to adapt. As Baron persuasively argues, “English survives, conversation thrives online as well as off, and on balance, digital communications seems to be enhancing human interaction, not detracting from it.” In fact, we live in a world of unprecedented media abundance that previous generations would have found unimaginable. As Baron puts it: “The Internet is a true electronic frontier where everyone is on his or her own: all manuscripts are accepted for publication, they remain in virtual print forever, and no one can tell writers what to do.” Such human empowerment is worth celebrating, even if it does have the occasional downside. Abundance is better than a world of scarce choices and few voices.

Baron’s retelling of the history of techno-skepticism is edifying, but it leaves one with the nagging feeling that these debates will never cease. Each generation will witness a technological watershed that brings out a fresh crop of both pollyannas and pessimists. Like Plato, however, most of us will embrace whatever’s next and move forward.

Interesting piece from Jeff Jarvis about “Google Bigotry,” or his belief that “media people are going after Google’s success for no good reason other than their own jealousy.”  Jarvis argues that reporters penning hard-nosed stories about Google are, in reality, just a bunch of envious cry-babies:

newspaper people will use their last drops of ink to complain about Google’s success and try to blame it for their own failures rather than changing their own businesses. ..  It’s not just that they dislike the competition – and they do, for it is a new experience for too many of them. If they were smart, they’d use Google to get more audience and make more money but they don’t know how to (or rather, they’d prefer not to change). No, the problem is that Google represents change and a new world they’ve refused to understand.

Well, yes and no.  I don’t believe that every story penned about Google by a mainstream media reporter is rooted in envy, and certainly not the one that Jarvis alludes to as prompting him to pen this piece.  Jarvis apparently received an inquiry from a French journalist at Le Monde asking for comment about “an article about Google facing a rising tide of discontent concerning privacy and monopoly.”  That doesn’t necessarily sound like an unreasonable journalistic inquiry to me. So, I’m not sure it’s fair to accuse every journalist who calls with a hard-nosed question about privacy and antitrust as being guilty of “Google bigotry.”

That being said, some journalists are likely feeling a bit miffed about Google’s recent success, thinking it comes at their expense, and, therefore, their envy might be prompting some of them to pen attack stories on the company.  I think Jarvis in on stronger ground, however, in asserting that most privacy and antitrust complaints about Google are unfounded, and also based on envy. Indeed, Berin Szoka and I have have been cataloging the complaints that we believe are driven by an irrational form of corporate envy we call “Googlephobia.”  And in prior years we saw a similar form of Microsoft-bashing at work that we still have with us today. That’s why I think Jarvis is on to something when he notes that Google-bashing represents a broader sociological phenomenon:

Do some people complain about Google? Yes, it is often the same people who complain about the internet and about change and technology and simply use Google as their target simply because it is so big and so innovative.

In one sense, this gets back to my ongoing discussion of the debate between “Internet optimists &  pessimists” regarding  the impact of the Internet and digital technology on our lives.  I’m what you might call a “pragmatic Internet optimist” because I generally believe the Internet is reshaping our culture, economy, and society in most ways for the better, but not without some heartburn along the way. But there are plenty of Internet pessimists out there who have a deep sense of unease with the Digital Revolution and life in the Information Age and only focus on the disruptions caused by this transition.  Thus, because Google is in so many ways intertwined and identified with this digital revolution, it is more likely they will become the scapegoat for every supposed problem the Internet skeptics identify.

But, let’s not lose sight of the broader psychological or sociological phenomenon at work here when we talk about corporate-bashing more generally.  The root of this problem really is envy.  In his great book, Envy: A Theory of Social Behaviour (1966), the German sociologist Helmut Schoeck noted that, although it is part of life, when taken to extremes, “Envy can also turn man to destruction.” “The envious man thinks that if his neighbor breaks a leg, he will be able to walk better himself,” he noted. Schoeck also discussed the “harm envy, or its institutionalized consideration, can do to the process of economic growth” and pointed out how market success almost always breeds bitter reactions and responses:

It is virtually impossible to undertake innovations in a society, to improve or even to to develop an economy process, without becoming unequal. But when can a leader or innovator ever be sure that he will not incur the ill-will of those who do not immediately benefit from his activity?

That’s essentially the problem Google faces today, just as Microsoft did before them. They’ve built better mousetraps and the world beat a path to their doors to use them — and damn quick. And they got big and rich quick, too.  What isn’t there to envy about their success!  Who wouldn’t want to be in their shoes? And when that envy incentivizes further innovation to knock them off their perches, that’s a great thing.  But far too often envy just breeds contempt for success and leads to calls to — as Schoeck put it — “institutionalize envy”  by having the government confiscate wealth or innovations “for the public good.”  Microsoft has been living with this nightmare for over a decade, and Google is now facing similar regulatory problems as its enemies list growing longer by the day.  Antitrust simply becomes the club to deliver the envious blow.

Finally, speaking of antitrust, Jarvis has some things to say in his essay about the substantive accusations of monopoly and privacy violations by Google that I think are generally correct:

Google is not a monopoly. It is a competitive company and it took advertising dollars for one simple reason: because advertisers found a better deal there – buying performance, not scarcity, with Google sharing their risk – than they ever found in our old media… Privacy? That is an overused word. The issue is not privacy, as I say in my book. It is control. You should also look at the benefits of publicness, which come when we share things about ourselves and find others like us. If you have problems with privacy then you have problems with every member of Facebook and its clones across the world and the entire generation that made social sites huge.

My problem with what Nick Carr is saying about Wikipedia here — as well as in his book The Big Switch — is that he always seems to assume that Wikipedia constitutes the totality of most searches for information online. I suppose it does for some people, but I have a hard time accepting the argument that everyone’s search for enlightenment ends there, even if Wikipedia does rank high in many search results today.

For me, Wikipedia is just a launch pad; a great starting point in the search for truth. I take much of what I read on Wikipedia with a large grain of salt, however, because I know not every entry is as trustworthy as others, and entries could change at any moment. But that’s true of much of what one finds online!  If one adopts a sort of caveat emptor attitude toward Wikipedia, and then uses it to seek out truth from alternative sources found in each entry, or from other searches, then were is the harm?  Only if one could show that the search for truth ends with Wikipedia would I be as concerned as Carr and other Internet pessimists and Wikipedia critics (like Lee Siegel and Andrew Keen). But I just don’t believe that is the case.

Moreover, it is impossible for me to believe that we have fewer authoritative sources of information at our disposal today than we did in the past.  When I was growing up in the 1970s and attending a tiny school in the middle of a rural Indiana cornfield, my version of Wikipedia was named “Mrs. Flowers.” She was the nice little old lady who ran our school’s library. When I began at search for information back then, I would often ask Mrs. Flowers to help me work my way through the mysteries of the Dewey Decimal System to find whatever we had in stock at Winfield Elementary regarding astronauts and rockets (a particular boyhood obsession of mine). Our “search results” were pretty miserable. (I probably have more books in my basement right now than were in that school’s library!) We had Britannica on hand and would grab whatever we could there, and there was a book about the Mercury program and another about the moon landing, but there wasn’t much else. That  really was it. Our search was for enlightenment ended that quickly. No other books. No newspaper or magazine archives to search through (expect an incomplete set of National Geographic). No video or audio tapes. No computer software. Just nothing more.  Consequently, I think I checked out that same book about the Mercury program a dozen times before the 4th grade started.

Contrast that dismal state of affairs with the homework project I just helped my 1st grade daughter with, which required me to help her find out 3 interesting facts about Squanto. Did we stumble upon Wikipedia with our first Google search? Yep. Was that the end of it? Nope. There were 236,000 more search results for us to figure out how to sort through! So, I tried first jumping every 10 pages or so just to randomly see what else showed up, and then refined our search to see what other hits we could get. We spent over an hour just walking around cyberspace learning all sorts of fun facts about Squanto.

Nick Carr may have a different word for it, but I call this progress. And if he doesn’t like the fact that Wikipedia entries often come up first in most search results, than there’s an easy solution: Just skip those links and peruse the hundreds of thousands of hits that follow.

[Note: Tim has addressed similar Wikipedia criticsms here many times before, including Carr’s earlier rants about it.]

It’s been a big year for tech policy books. Several important titles were released in 2008 that offer interesting perspectives about the future of the Internet and the impact digital technologies are having on our lives, culture, and economy. Back in September, I compared some of the most popular technology policy books of the past five years and tried to group them into two camps: “Internet optimists” vs. “Internet pessimists.” That post generated a great deal of discussion and I plan on expanding it into a longer article soon. In this post, however, I will merely list what I regard as the most important technology policy books of the past year.

What qualifies as an “important” tech policy book? Basically, it’s a title that many people in this field are currently discussing and that we will likely be talking about for many years to come. I want to make it clear, however, that merely because a book appears on this list it does not necessarily mean I agree with everything said in it. In fact, I found much with which to disagree in my picks for the two most important books of 2008, as well as many of the other books on the list. [Moreover, after reading all these books, I am more convinced than ever that libertarians are badly losing the intellectual battle of ideas over Internet issues and digital technology policy. There’s just very few people defending a “Hands-Off-the-Net” approach anymore. But that’s a subject for another day!]

Another caveat: Narrowly focused titles lose a few points on my list. For example, as was the case in past years, a number of important IP-related books have come out this year. If a book deals exclusively with copyright or patent issues, it does not exactly qualify as the same sort of “tech policy book” as other titles found on this list since it is a narrow exploration of just one set of issues that have a bearing on digital technology policy. The same could be said of a book that deals exclusively with privacy policy, like Solove’s Understanding Privacy. It’s an important book with implications for the future of tech policy, but I demoted it a bit because of its narrow focus.

With those caveats in mind, here are my Top 10 Most Important Tech Policy Books of 2008 (and please let me know about your picks for book of the year):

(1) Jonathan Zittrain ­– The Future of the Internet, and How to Stop It

Zittrain’s book is the most important of 2008 because it’s the one we will still be talking the most about a decade from now. However, I think we’ll be talking about how wrong his thesis was that the “generative” Internet and general purpose PCs are dying.  Indeed, I’ve been quite critical of the thesis that Jonathan sets forth in his book, and I have discussed my reservations in a lengthy book review and a series of follow-up essays here and elsewhere. (Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5).  We’ve also debated his book on the an NPR-Boston [audio is here] and we debated in person at New America Foundation in early November [video is here].

Despite my serious reservations, Jonathan’s book is important, well-written, and absolutely deserves your attention if you care about the future of technology policy.

(2) Nick Carr – The Big Switch: Rewiring the World, From Edison to Google

Part 1 of Nick Carr’s book is an eloquent early history of cloud computing, nicely comparing it to previous technological revolutions. It’s beautifully done. In Part 2 of the book, however, Carr turns sour and argues that the impact of cloud computing will be quite miserable for our economy, culture, and society. The Big Switch probably makes the best case than any Net pessimist has been penned thus far, and for that reason alone it deserves your attention. Ultimately, however, I found his case unconvincing.

You can find my complete review of Carr’s book here.

(3) John Palfrey and Urs Gasser – Born Digital: Understanding the First Generation of Digital Natives

Palfrey and Gasser’s fine early history of this generation of “Digital Natives” serves as a starting point for any conversation about how to mentor and interact with the children of the Web. It’s a comprehensive and very even-handed discussion about a variety of concerns or Internet pathologies, including: online safety, personal privacy, copyright piracy, offensive content, classroom learning, and much more. Despite a few nitpicks, I really enjoyed this book and highly recommend it. Importantly, it is a very accessible book that even the non-tech layman can pick up and appreciate. [Note: Don Tapscott’s Grown Up Digital: How the Net Generation is Changing Your World, shares a lot in common with Born Digital, but Tapscott doesn’t spend much time on policy issues and that’s why his book isn’t on my list.]

My review of Palfrey and Gasser’s Born Digital is here. [Update Feb 2009: I also hosted a podcast about the book featuring Prof. Palfrey.]

(4) Clay Shirky – Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing without Organizations

While Nick Carr [see #2 above] and Lee Siegel [see #5 below] are leading the “techno-pessimist” parade this year, Clay Shirky is this year’s leading cheerleader for “cyber-optimism.” Shirky argues that the falling costs and growing ease of digital distribution are making it increasingly easy for individuals to engage in group-forming and collective action endeavors. The resulting rise of “mass amateurization” poses a significant challenge to old media operations and traditional business models and practices. In this sense, Shirky is building on many of the themes and arguments previously set forth in books like The Wealth of Networks (Benkler), Wikinomics (Tapscott and Williams), and Convergence Culture (Jenkins). If you’ve already read those titles, you’ll find a great deal of familiar thinking here.

I never got around to putting together a full review of Here Comes Everybody, but Tim Lee had a nice write-up over at Ars earlier this year.

(5) Lee Siegel – Against the Machine: Being Human in the Age of the Electronic Mob

Siegal is this year’s Andrew Keen; a cyber-sourpuss who thinks the whole world is going to hell and that the Internet is to blame. Like Keen’s Cult of the Amateur, Siegel’s Against the Machine is an anti-Web 2.0 screed that finds no redeeming qualities about the Internet or user-generated content.  In particular, Wikipedia and amateur production are blasted as being detrimental to professional media.

Both Siegel and Keen are essentially channeling the ghost of the late Neil Postman, whose 1992 book Technopoly remains the classic statement of techno-pessimism. They prove worthy disciples as they preach the Gospel According to Chicken Little and push for a neo-Luddite revival. But Siegel’s techno-pessimism is boundless and his hatred for all things digital is truly breathtaking. For that reason, however, his book deserves attention.

My lengthy critique of Siegel’s book can be found here.

(6) Ronald J. Deibert, John G. Palfrey, Rafal Rohozinski, and Jonathan Zittrain (eds.) – Access Denied: The Practice and Policy of Global Internet Filtering

This is essential reading for anyone studying the methods governments are using to stifle online expression. The contributors provide a regional and country-by-country overview of the global state of online speech controls and discuss the long-term ramifications of increasing government filtering of online networks. Even if you don’t read the whole thing, this is a must-have title for your bookshelf since there is no other resource out there like this. And it should be required reading in every cyberlaw class in America. [Note: It also contains a very helpful chapter on the mechanics of Net filtering.]  Very highly recommended.

(7) Hal Abelson, Ken Ledeen, and Harry Lewis – Blown to Bits: Your Life, Liberty, and Happiness After the Digital Explosion

Think of this book as “Internet Policy for the Educated Layman.” Abelson, Ledeen, and Lewis survey a broad swath of tech policy territory — privacy, search, encryption, free speech, copyright, spectrum policy — and provide the reader with a nice history and technology primer on each topic. Like Palfrey and Gasser’s Born Digital [see #3 above], Blown to Bits is very accessible and each chapter contains a great deal of useful information to bring you up to speed on the hottest tech policy debates under the sun. Recommended.

My review of Blown to Bits can be found here.

(8) Lawrence Lessig – Remix: Making Art and Commerce Thrive in the Hybrid Economy

Remix treads a lot of ground already covered in Lessig’s other books and essays (perhaps it should have been called “Rehash”), but it more fully develops his thinking on the legal treatment of derivative works. Actually, in some ways (especially in the second half of the book), it’s more of a restatement of much of what is found in Benkler’s Wealth of Networks, albeit in a far less verbose fashion. Regardless, Prof. Lessig has attained rock-star status in tech policy circles and the release of each of his new books or papers becomes a bit of an event. Remix has been no different. It has already attracted a great deal of attention and deserves to be on this list for that reason alone. But if you have read his previous work, you’ll already be familiar with much of what you find in Remix.

Generally speaking, I thought Prof. Lessig made a good case regarding the benefits of remix culture and why copyright law should leave breathing room for the various derivative works of amateur creators. But he too often blurs remix culture with “ripoff culture” (i.e., those who aren’t out to create anything new but instead just take something without paying a penny for it). To solve that latter problem, he endorses a “simple” blanket licensing scheme for the Internet. In this essay, I addressed why blanket online licensing would be anything but simple.

(9) James Bessen and Michael J. Meurer – Patent Failure: How Judges, Bureaucrats, and Lawyers Put Innovators at Risk

Bessen and Meurer argue that America’s patent system is in trouble because “it fail[s] to provide clear and efficient notice of the boundaries of the rights granted.” Patent litigation has exploded, they say, and the costs of the system now outweigh the benefits. Generally speaking, with the exception of the chemical and pharmaceutical industries, Bessen and Meurer don’t feel the patent system does a lot of good.”[I]t seems unlikely that patents today are an effective policy instrument to encourage innovation overall,” they conclude. They detail several reforms to help improve notice and to “make patents work as property” again the way they claim they once did.

Although the authors deal with patents broadly, the book has great relevance to digital technology policy because of their discussion of business method patents and software patents. (Incidentally, that chapter from the book is available online). They argue that software technology is especially prone to problems of “abstraction” and obviousness. As a result, software patenting has been a major contributor to the litigation explosion we have seen in recent years.

Although I agree with their case against software patents, I remain unconvinced that the patent system is failing as badly as Bessen and Meurer claim. Nonetheless, they present a powerful case that deserves to be taken seriously. Patent Failure will have an enormous impact on these debates going forward.

For more opinions on the book… Tim Lee posted a favorable review of Patent Failure over at Ars this summer. And, back in March, there was a lively discussion about the book over at Patently-O. Finally, at last year’s PFF “Aspen Summit,” Michael Meurer debated these issues with some of America’s leading patent law experts. Bronwyn H. Hall, Professor of Economics at Cal-Berkeley, challenges his findings. The video of that panel is here.

(10) Daniel Solove – Understanding Privacy

Daniel Solove’s book — and his approach to classifying and dealing with privacy problems — will have a profound impact on all future privacy debates. In that sense, it is a vital text; a must read for all who follow, or engage in, privacy debates.  On the other hand, Solove’s claim that he can construct a new paradigm based strictly on a pragmatic, utilitarian, “?problem-solving” approach, is ultimately a failure. There is just no getting around the fact that, at some point, you are going to have to provide a more robust theory of rights or justice to explain why one right trumps another. I elaborate in this lengthy critique of Solove’s Understanding Privacy.

Honorable Mentions: Here are a couple of titles that I couldn’t fit on my list but that you might want to also consider reading: Neil Netanel – Copyright’s Paradox; Matt Mason – The Pirate’s Dilemma: How Youth Culture Is Reinventing Capitalism; David Friedman – Future Imperfect: Technology and Freedom in an Uncertain World; Cory Doctorow — Content; and Don Tapscott — Grown Up Digital: How the Net Generation is Changing Your World.

Please let me know if there are other titles I have overlooked, and let me know your opinion about the best technology policy book(s) of 2008 by voting in our poll and commenting more down below.

[poll id=”3″]

Somewhere between Nick Carr’s “Typology of Network Strategies” and Chris Anderson’s “Four Kinds of Free” is the secret to understanding our new economy:

Carr’s “Typology of Network Strategies”:

1. Network effect
2. Data mining
3. Digital sharecropping, or “user-generated content”
4. Complements
5. Two-sided markets
6. Economies of scale, economies of scope, and experience

Anderson’s “Four Kinds of Free”:

1. Direct cross-subsidy (get one thing free, pay for another)
2. Ad-supported (third-party subsidizes second party)
3. “Freemium” (a few people subsidize everyone else)
4. “Gift economy” (people give away things for non-monetary rewards)

Of course, both Carr and Anderson are building on theories and business models previously articulated by many others. A few that come to mind:

• Carl Shapiro & Hal Varian, Information Rules: A Strategic Guide to the Network Economy (1999)
• Stan Liebowitz, Re-thinking the Network Economy (2002)
• Jeffrey H. Rohlfs, Bandwagon Effects in High-Technology Industries (2001)
• Oz Shy, The Economics of Network Industries (2001)
• Don Tapscott & Anthony Williams, Wikinomics: How Mass Collaboration Changes Everything (2006)

I just finished reading through The Economist’s new 14-page special report on cloud computing, “Let It Rise” in which Ludwig Siegele provides an outstanding overview of cloud computing and why it is so important:

The rise of the cloud is more than just another platform shift that gets geeks excited. It will undoubtedly transform the information technology (IT) industry, but it will also profoundly change the way people work and companies operate. It will allow digital technology to penetrate every nook and cranny of the economy and of society, creating some tricky political problems along the way.

Even if you are very familiar with cloud computing, I recommend you take a look at the article. Anyway, while I was reading it, I was unsurprised to come across some comments from Nicholas Carr, whose new book The Big Switch: Rewiring the World, from Edison to Google, is essentially an early history of cloud computing and an investigation into its effects on our economy, culture, and society. And that also reminded me that, even though I have mentioned Carr’s book here several times since it was released earlier this year, I have failed to give it a dedicated review. And it certain deserves one because “The Big Switch” is easily one of the most important technology policy books of 2008.

One of the reasons Carr’s book will be high up on my end of the year list of best tech books has nothing to do with substance. It’s his style. Carr is one of most gifted writers in the tech policy field today. His eloquence and brilliant story-telling skills remind me of George Gilder in his prime. Carr nicely places modern developments in a historical context and relates the changes we are witnessing today to previous technological innovations and eras.

At the same time, however, Carr has also become one of the America’s leading Internet skeptics and vocal critics of techno-utopianism, as I noted in an essay a few months ago about Internet optimists and pessimists. He is, by far, the most reasonable and respected of those Net skeptics, using a measured tone when attacking those who have adopted a more pollyanna-ish, rose-colored view of the world. [For similar reasons, Carr’s “Rough Type” blog is must-reading for anyone who monitors technology policy.]

Electric Parallels

But on to the substance of the book. Carr’s thesis is that we are in the midst of “another epochal [technological] transformation” that parallels what happened with the “democratization of electricity” a century ago:

What happened to the generation of power a century ago is now happening to the processing of information. Private computer systems, built and operated by individual companies, are being supplanted by services provided by a common grid — the Internet — by centralized data-processing plants. Computing is turning into a utility, and once again the economic equations that determine the way we work and live are being rewritten. (p. 12)

“That shift,” Carr continues, “promises not only to change the nature of corporate IT departments but to shake up the entire computer industry.” (p. 13) Indeed, the “revolutionary potential of the information utility” promises to have profound implications:

In the years ahead, more and more of the information processing tasks that we rely on, at home and at work, will be handled by big data centers located out on the Internet. The nature and economics of computing will change as dramatically as the nature and economics of mechanical power changed in the early years of the last century. The consequences for society — for the way we live, work, learn, communicate, entertain ourselves, and even think — promise to be equally profound. (p. 21)

Unsurprisingly, Google is the central player in Carr’s drama because it is “a giant information utility” (p. 13) that has capitalized on the movement of so much knowledge and technology into the cloud and off of our desktops. Carr argues that “once utility services mature, the idea of getting rid of your PC will become much more attractive” (p. 80) and “We may find, twenty or so years from now, that the personal computer has become a museum piece, a reminder of a curious time when all of us where forced to be amateur computer technicians.” (p. 81)

Carr’s Critique of “Techno-Utopianism”

Part One of The Big Switch is primarily concerned with this progression of computing and IT from specialized service to mainstream utility, and I believe that most readers will find it as engrossing and enlightened as I did. But the tone and focus of Carr’s book change dramatically as Part Two opens. Whereas Carr keeps Part One fairly value- or viewpoint-neutral, Part Two is a more spirited critique of the economic and cultural consequences of “The Big Switch.”

In Part Two, he launches into his attack of the “techno-utopianism” that sometimes accompanies discussions about the implications of the Information Age and life in the cloud. “[O]ptimism is a natural response to the arrival of a powerful and mysterious new technology,” but, Carr warns, “it can blind us to more troubling portents.” And “there is reason to believe that our cybernetic meadow may be something less than a new Eden.” (p. 125)

It is here that Carr’s critique becomes familiar to those of us who follow the modern Internet policy debates. As I noted in my “Internet Optimists and Pessimists” essay, Carr is joining the ranks of other Net skeptics like Andrew Keen, Lee Siegel, and others. In my recent review of Lee Siegel’s Against the Machine: Being Human in the Age of the Electronic Mob, I traced this strand of social criticism back to the late Neil Postman, author of the 1992 anti-technology manifesto, Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology.

Carr’s concerns about the consequences of cloud computing and the rise of “techno-utopianism” parallel those found in those other “pessimistic” tracts, although Carr is far more level-headed in articulating those fears. As I noted in the Siegel review, those concerns can generally be grouped as follows:

1. The Net is destroying (or at least greatly diminishing) the role of experts, authority, “truth”, and traditional societal norms and institutions. This is having (or eventually will result in) dangerous ramifications for our culture, economy, and democracy.
2. The personalization and customization that the Information Age and the Internet have spawned could have troubling ramifications for our society and culture.

Dangers of Disintermediation and the Problem with “Free”

Regarding the first of these concerns, Carr argues that “while it’s true that the reduction in production and distribution costs is bringing us many more options, it would be a mistake to leap to the conclusion that nothing will be sacrificed in the process. More choices don’t necessarily mean better choices,” he says. (p. 151) He continues:

Many cultural goods remain expensive to create or require the painstaking work of talented professionals, and it’s worth considering how the changing economics of media will affect them. Will these goods be able to find a large enough paying audience to underwrite their existence, or will they end up being crowded out of the marketplace by the proliferation of free, or easily accessible products? Even though the Internet can in theory accommodate a nearly infinite variety of information goods, that doesn’t mean that the market will be able to support all of them. Some of the most cherished creative works may not survive the transition to the Web’s teeming bazaar. (p. 151)

More specifically, Carr is worried about what “The Great Unbundling” — i.e., the radically disruptive disintermediation associated with the Internet Age — will mean for the future of “hard news,” investigative journalism, and prized forms of culture. The cross-subsidies that have supported the creation of such content are at risk, Carr fears, as the Net’s relentless drive for increased efficiency rolls like a digital wrecking ball through the old media and cultural landscape. “[T]he largest threat posed by social production won’t be to big corporations but to individual professionals — to the journalists, editors, photographers, researchers, analysts, librarians, and other information workers who can be replaced,” Carr says, by “crowdsourcing.” (p. 142)

In this way, Carr’s concerns are quite similar to those raised by Andrew Keen and others about how the Internet is potentially “killing our culture” (or at least the best of it as they would define it). But Carr extends this social critique in an important way by claiming that the problem with the emerging model of social production and “free” business models that dominate the online marketplace today is that they are built on a “sharecropper model.” The Net’s dominant giants, he argues, are reaping their riches on the back of free labor. These new sites and services “are essentially agglomerations of the creative, unpaid contributions of their members. In a twist on the old agricultural practice of sharecropping, the site owners provide the digital real estate and tools, let the members do all the work, and then harvest the economic riches.” (p. 137-8)

I have some sympathy for these arguments, especially as they have been articulated by Carr here in The Big Switch. Compared to the way other critics like Keen and Siegel have used over-the-top apocalyptic, neo-Luddite rhetoric when discussing their related concerns, Carr generally avoids such hysteria and does a better job of laying out his concerns about the Net and cloud computing in a more reasonable fashion. And there is little doubt that the Internet and social production models are placing enormous strain on many traditional professions and professionals.

I have problems with his “sharecropper” argument, however. This logic ignores the non-monetary benefits that many of us feel we extract from today’s online business models and social production processes. Most of us feel we get a lot back as part of this new value exchange. Carr is certainly correct that Google, Facebook, MySpace, and a lot of other Net middlemen are getting big and rich based on all the user-generated content flowing over their sites and systems. On the other hand, most cyber-citizens extract enormous benefits from the existence of those (mostly free and constantly improving) platforms and services. It’s a very different sort of value exchange and business model than most of us have been accustomed to in the past, but we are adjusting to it. We humans are resilient, adaptable creatures and we can usually learn to cope with such changes and find a way to use them to our advantage. It’s not all about companies getting rich; we are getting richer too, but in a different way. We have an abundance of information, culture, and communications opportunities at our disposal today that were simply unthinkable even a generation ago.

Carr and other Net skeptics certainly raise some very legitimate questions about the limitations of the “free culture” mindset, however. There are times when the net optimists really do sound like the pollyannish “utopians” that Carr claims they are. When I am reading the work of Benkler and other optimists, it sometimes comes across as techno-Rousseauian gibberish (or what Carr labels “the Internet’s liberation mythology.”) The Internet isn’t remaking man or changing human nature in any fundamental way, which is what some optimists seem to imply. Moreover, when it comes to economics, all this talk about the Long Tail being “the future of business” (Chris Anderson) and of “Wikinomics… changing everything through mass collaboration,” (Don Tapscott & Anthony Williams) goes much too far in my opinion. It’s irrational (techno-) exuberance.

On the other hand, Carr and the other pessimists occasionally go to the opposite extreme in critiquing new models of social production, open source, and other collaborative creative endeavors. Their obsession with Wikipedia is particularly curious. If one views Wikipedia and Wiki- models as supplements or compliments to traditional media and communications models and activities, then where is the harm? Most of us understand they are not perfect, but we can appreciate the benefits they bring society despite their limitations.

When it comes to the true impact of the Internet on our economy and culture, the truth is somewhere in between the two extremes staked out by optimists and pessimists. My own position in this regard might best be labeled “pragmatic optimism”: One can appreciate how much better off the Internet has made society while also recognizing that it has created new challenges that we need to think through.

Downsides of Hyper-Personalization

The other important theme developed by Carr in the second half of The Big Switch, which also runs throughout the work of other techno-pessimist tracts, is that the increased personalization and customization facilitated by the Internet is breeding dangerous anti-social attitudes and tendencies. Building on an argument first put forth by Cass Sunstein in his 2001 book Republic.com , Carr worries about the impact of the “Daily Me.” The “Daily Me” was the term Nicholas Negroponte coined in his prescient 1995 book Being Digital, to describe the new digital world he hoped would develop, filled with hyper-personalized, instantaneously-delivered content. And that’s largely the Web 2.0 world we live in today.

But Carr, Sunstein, and many other Net skeptics, refer to Negroponte’s “Daily Me” in contemptuous terms, arguing that the hyper-customization of websites and online technologies is causing extreme social “fragmentation,” “polarization,” “balkanization,” and “single-mindedness.” Carr warns:

Every time we subscribe to a blog, add a friend to our social network, categorize an email message as spam, or even choose a site from a list of search results, we are making a decision that defines, in some small way, whom we associate with and what information we pay attention to. (p. 160)

Thus, he fears, we could be “click[ing] our way to a fractured society” (p. 160) because of the “ideological amplification” (p. 164) bred by the Daily Me. There’s even the risk of increased fanaticism, radicalization, and extremism, he warns.

I have addressed this argument at length in my 2005 book, Media Myths (p. 39) but, to summarize, the fundamental problem with this logic is that it ignores the fact that, thanks to the rise of the Net, most of us are experiencing far more diverse voices and viewpoints than we ever did in the past. Sure, it is true that we also can now find our little niche groups and bunk-up with them online for extended periods, but I find it absurd to claim that we humans are less exposed to diverse viewpoints today than in the past.

Regardless, even if Carr and the other Net skeptics are correct and the Net is breeding such isolation and balkanization, what are we suppose to do about it? Should we roll back the clock to the good ol’ days? Carr doesn’t give us a straight answer. But, again, there are good reasons to question whether society was really better off in the pre-Internet days. The Analog / Scarcity Era had it’s own share of problems, beginning with the fact that it was extremely difficult for niche interests in our society to be served when media was catering to a mass audience through newspapers and broadcast stations. Certainly, the old model of media delivery had its advantages, but the drawbacks were enormous, and not just as it pertained to entertainment. Consider news: If we all weren’t home sitting in front of our TV sets at exactly 6:30 each night, then we missed our chance to hear the same three old white guys in bad suits tells us what the important news of the day was. Look, I liked Cronkite, Brinkley & Co., but I will take today’s 24/7 news cycle of instantaneous news over that old system any day of the week.

Again, there are trade-offs at work here. Things are not all roses like Net optimists would claim. The downside of an endless news cycle is that people can just find a niche news channel or program that feeds them news more closely in line with their own ideological tendencies. Moreover, there very well may be — to use Glenn Reynolds’s phrase — “An Army of Davids” out there in the blogosphere today taking on traditional media and expressing themselves however they wish, but that doesn’t automatically mean they all have something interesting to say! Even when they do, there is still a useful role played by mass media providers or “professional” media in steering news and culture. Indeed, they provide an essential editing function in terms of helping us decide what types of news or culture may be more important. I personally rely on the Wall Street Journal to help guide my investigation of what financial market news is worth exploring each week. I wouldn’t want to just set up my Google Alerts to feed me “financial news” and then trust that everything that came into my RSS reader was worth reading. In this sense, the WSJ is what I call a “trusted information intermediary” (or “old school filter” if you will) that many of us could not live without.

But that traditional intermediary editing and filtering function, which used to be total in its applicability to news and culture, is now shrinking rapdily. “Mass media” just isn’t quite as MASS-ive as it once was, and the rise of personalized “Daily Me” media and culture certainly has had something to do with that since it has allow us to filter news and culture ourselves.  But why can’t we have the best of both worlds — some old school filtering by trusted information intermediaries along with plenty of personalized filtering? In many ways, I think we have that balance today — and it is a wonderful thing. Pessimists like Carr seem to only focus on the downsides of customized media, and that’s unfortunate. Nonetheless, they are right to ask the tough questions about how long those old school filters (traditional media intermediaries) will survive if all of us flock to an extreme “Daily Me” mindset. My contention, however, is that we won’t. Most of us appreciate the balanced approach and are willing to support some — but not all — of those old intermediaries and filters.

I have far less sympathy for Carr’s argument that increased specialization and customization are breeding “fanaticism” and “radicalization.” Last time I checked, mobs weren’t rioting in the streets or rushing out to join the Nazi or Communist parties! Those knuckleheads still exist, of course, but they have always existed. And let’s not forget, it was during the age of scarcity and mass media that those movements gained traction and took control in some countries. In the Internet Age, by contrast, such extremist loonies usually get exposed and widely ridiculed. As the old saying goes, the answer to bad speech is more speech. The Internet has given it to us and helped us counter such societal extremism, even if it has simultaneously given such extremists a new soapbox to stand on and spew their hatred and stupidity. Let them spew it and we will respond! And we will marginalize them in the process. There’s just no chance some sort of mini-Hitler is going to use the Net to revive fascism and build a mass audience today.

Finally, I believe Carr makes a similar mistake when he argues that computers and the Internet are really more “technologies of control” than “technologies of emancipation.” (p. 191)  “While the Net offers people a new medium for discovering information and voicing opinions, it also provides bureaucrats with a powerful new tool for monitoring speech, identifying dissidents, and disseminating propaganda.” (p. 200)  In this sense, Carr is adopting the same pessimistic tone set forth by Jack Goldsmith and Tim Wu in their book Who Controls the Internet? While I agree that computers and the Net give the big bad statist bureaucrats new tools of control, I persist in my belief that these digital tools offer the masses more methods of evading and minimizing the power of government over their lives and liberties.  Again, I think it is important to put things in some historical context. In the past, governments could completely control the media and disseminate incessant propaganda. It is far more difficult for them to get away with that today, and citizens have many tools and outlets at their disposal to respond.  Digital technologies really are technologies of emancipation, but we can’t expect them to break the backs of the statist thugs overnight.

Conclusion

Carr’s pessimism on the two issues discussed above is succinctly captured on pg. 167 of his book when he argues that:

it’s clear that two of the hopes most dear to the Internet optimists — that the Web will create a more bountiful culture and that it will promote greater harmony and understanding — should be treated with skepticism. Cultural impoverishment and social fragmentation seem equally likely outcomes.

That almost perfectly delineates the battle lines in the great debate taking place today between Internet optimists and pessimists. The Big Switch probably makes the best case for the pessimists that has been penned thus far, and for that reason alone it deserves your attention. However, I continue to remain cautiously optimistic that the Net is moving our economy, culture, and society in a better direction — at least compared to a past, which had its own share of drawbacks and problems.

P.S. If you are interested in the ongoing debate about cloud computing — and specifically the question of how much competition we can expect going forward — you’ll definitely want to check out this very interesting discussion taking place between Hugh Macleod, Tim O’Reilly, and Nick Carr.

• “The Cloud’s Best-Kept Secret” — Hugh Macleod
• “Web 2.0 and Cloud Computing” — Tim O’Reilly
• “What Tim O’Reilly gets wrong about the cloud” — Nick Carr
• “Further musings on the network effect and the cloud” — Nick Carr

Also, here’s a video of Nick Carr’s recent appearance on “The Colbert Report”: