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)

Here’s a presentation I delivered on “The War on Vertical Integration in the Digital Economy” at the latest meeting of the Southern Economic Association this weekend. It outlines concerns about vertical integration in the tech economy and specifically addresses regulatory proposals set forth by Tim Wu (arguing for a “separations principle” for the tech economy) & Jonathan Zittrain (arguing for “API neutrality” for social media and digital platforms). This presentation is based on two papers published by the Mercatus Center at George Mason University: “Uncreative Destruction: The Misguided War on Vertical Integration in the Information Economy” (with Brent Skorup) & “The Perils of Classifying Social Media Platforms as Public Utilities.”

[UPDATE 4/30/13: This article was subsequently published in Volume 65, Issues 2 of the Federal Communications Law Journal in April 2013. The links below now point to the final FCLJ version.]

The Mercatus Center at George Mason University has just released a new paper by Brent Skorup and me entitled, “Uncreative Destruction: The War on Vertical Integration in the Information Economy.”  Brent, who is the research director for the Information Economy Project at the George Mason University School of Law, and I have been working on this paper since the Spring and we are looking forward to getting it published in a law review shortly. The paper focuses on Tim Wu’s “separations principle” for the digital economy, something I’ve spent some time critiquing here in the past. Here’s the introduction from the 44-page paper that Brent and I just released:

Are information sectors sufficiently different from other sectors of the economy such that more stringent antitrust standards should be applied to them preemptively? Columbia Law School professor Tim Wu responds in the affirmative in his book The Master Switch: The Rise and Fall of Information Empires. Having successfully pushed net-neutrality regulation into the policy spotlight, Wu has turned his attention to what he regards as excessive market concentration and threats to free speech throughout the entire information economy.To support his call for increased antitrust intervention, Wu explains his view of competition in the information economy—a view that deviates substantially from current mainstream antitrust theory. First, Wu contends that “information monopolies” are pervasive in the information economy. Wu’s “monopolists” include Facebook, Apple, Google, and even Twitter. In The Master Switch and essays like “In the Grip of the New Monopolists,” Wu argues that these so-called monopolies are increasing their market power and require more aggressive oversight and regulation.Second, Wu argues that traditional antitrust analysis is not sufficient for information systems because they carry speech. He claims, “Information industries… can never be properly understood as ‘normal’ industries,”and traditional forms of regulation, including antitrust enforcement, “are clearly inadequate for the regulation of information industries.”Wu believes that because information industries “traffic in forms of individual expression” and are “fundamental to democracy,” they should be subject to greater regulatory treatment.Third, in contrast to current competition law’s focus on horizontal relationships, Wu desires a reinvigorated regulatory enforcement that addresses “the corrupting effects of vertically integrated power” in the information sectors.He is particularly concerned about private threats to free speech arising from such vertical integration.The solution, he says, is preventing vertical mergers in the information economy and the mandatory divestiture of vertically integrated companies. To implement this, Wu proposes a Separations Principle for the information economy, which would segregate information providers into three buckets, which we have labeled information creators, information distributors, and hardware makers.This article outlines Wu’s separations proposal, explains why his fears regarding vertical relationships should be rejected by regulatory and antitrust policymakers, and illustrates the legal and practical problems his Separations Principle poses. Wu justifies his Separations Principle by citing monopolies and market power in the information economy. He also advocates using U.S. antitrust authorities to enforce his Principle. We argue that the antitrust harms he fears are not present, and we highlight scholarship on the accepted benefits of vertically integrated firms. We show that Wu’s remedies are policy preferences wrapped in the language of competition law. In fact, the information economy is largely competitive and does not warrant interventionist regulatory enforcement. Since much of American economic vitality flows from the information economy and technology, policymakers should reject a radical antitrust remedy like Wu’s preemptive Separations Principle.

The paper can be downloaded from the Mercatus website, SSRN, or Scribd.

The Mercatus Center at George Mason University has just released my new white paper, “The Perils of Classifying Social Media Platforms as Public Utilities.” [PDF] I first presented a draft of this paper last November at a Michigan State University conference on “The Governance of Social Media.” [Video of my panel here.]

In this paper, I note that to the extent public utility-style regulation has been debated within the Internet policy arena over the past decade, the focus has been almost entirely on the physical layer of the Internet. The question has been whether Internet service providers should be considered “essential facilities” or “natural monopolies” and regulated as public utilities. The debate over “net neutrality” regulation has been animated by such concerns.

While that debate still rages, the rhetoric of public utilities and essential facilities is increasingly creeping into policy discussions about other layers of the Internet, such as the search layer. More recently, there have been rumblings within academic and public policy circles regarding whether social media platforms, especially social networking sites, might also possess public utility characteristics. Presumably, such a classification would entail greater regulation of those sites’ structures and business practices.

Proponents of treating social media platforms as public utilities offer a variety of justifications for regulation. Amorphous “fairness” concerns animate many of these calls, but privacy and reputational concerns are also frequently mentioned as rationales for regulation. Proponents of regulation also sometimes invoke “social utility” or “social commons” arguments in defense of increased government oversight, even though these notions lack clear definition.

Social media platforms do not resemble traditional public utilities, however, and there are good reasons why policymakers should avoid a rush to regulate them as such. Treating these nascent digital services as regulated utilities would harm consumer welfare because public utility regulation has traditionally been the archenemy of innovation and competition. Furthermore, treating today’s leading social media providers as digital essential facilities threatens to convert “natural monopoly” or “essential facility” claims into self-fulfilling prophecies. Related proposals to mandate “API neutrality” or enforce a “Separations Principle” on integrated information platforms would be particularly problematic. Such regulation also threatens innovation and investment. Marketplace experimentation in search of sustainable business models should not be made illegal.

Remedies less onerous than regulation are available. Transparency and data-portability policies would solve many of the problems that concern critics, and numerous private empowerment solutions exist for those users concerned about their privacy on social media sites.

Finally, because social media are fundamentally tied up with the production and dissemination of speech and expression, First Amendment values are at stake, warranting heightened constitutional scrutiny of proposals for regulation. Social media providers should possess the editorial discretion to determine how their platforms are configured and what can appear on them.

This 63-page paper can be found on the Mercatus site here, on SSRN, or on Scribd.  I’ve also embedded it below in a Scribd reader. Eventually, a shorter version of this paper will appear as a chapter in a MIT Press book.

Social Networks as Public Utilities [Adam Thierer]

In my work critiquing the Lessig-Zittrain-Wu school of thinking–which fears the decline and fall of online “openness” and digital  “generativity”–I have argued that, while there is no such thing as perfect “openness,” things are actually getting more open and generative all the time. All that really counts from my perspective is that we are witnessing healthy innovation across the generativity continuum.

Will some devices and platforms continue to be “closed”? Sure. Think Apple and cable set-top boxes. But (a) there’s a ton of innovation taking place on top of those supposedly “closed” platforms and (b) there are other options consumers can exercise if they don’t like those content /information delivery methods. [See this chapter from the Next Digital Decade book for my fuller critique.]

And, even if one adopts a rigid Zittrainian view of openness and generativity, each day seems to bring more good news. From that perspective it’s hard to find a better headline than this one: ” Smartphone Makers Bow to Demands for More Openness.” That’s from ArsTechnica today and it refers to the fact that smartphone giant HTC just announced it would no longer attempt to lock the bootloader on its smartphones, meaning geeks like me can root and hack their devices to their heart’s content. As the Ars story notes:

HTC has long been seen as a relatively modder-friendly phone manufacturer. Although many of their phones have had locked bootloaders, workarounds were easy enough for software developers to spot in order to gain superuser access to their phones. That changed recently, however, when modders discovered that two new Android phones—the HTC Sensation and Evo 3D—would come with software that prohibited bypassing locked bootloaders. “The system was locked but exploitable before,” Android enthusiast Irwin Proud told Wired.com in an interview. “Suddenly they required signature checks,” or digital verification of software that allows it to load. An Android activist, Proud has organized online campaigns to fight against locked-down phone releases. After hearing this, the modding community wasn’t happy. Users launched WakeUpHTC.com, a website which gave upset modders all of HTC’s contact info, encouraging them to bombard the company with requests for a change in its bootloader policy. On Thursday, the company relented.

Here’s specifically what HTC’s CEO Peter Chou had to say in a Facebook post:

“There has been overwhelmingly customer feedback that people want access to open bootloaders on HTC phones. I want you to know that we’ve listened. Today, I’m confirming we will no longer be locking the bootloaders on our devices. Thanks for your passion, support and patience.”

Now that’s what I call a Zittrainian success story! Markets and public pressure prevailed and led to more openness and generativity in the purest sense of the terms.

I suppose that some will still worry and retort that “well, the carriers might still try to lock down the devices.” That story might have been more believable five years ago but the new reality of the smartphone world today is that the OS and app makers now hold most of the cards. Carriers are practically giving away the store (literally!) as they rush to get the latest and greatest phones and operating systems from the likes of Apple, Google, Microsoft, HTC, Motorola, LG, and so on.  This is amazingly dynamic ecosystem with multiple layers of innovation and competition.

I don’t think there’s any way the generativity genie could be put back in the bottle at this point. Too many people want tinker-friendly devices and more “open” platforms.  Of course, it’s also true that some devices will remain somewhat more locked-down to ensure “stability” or simplicity for those users who desire it. But what’s wrong with that? Shouldn’t they have that choice? Again, it’s the innovation across the full range of devices and platforms that is so important and impressive in this case. That’s all we should really care about. Finally, if goes without saying that even the most heavily fortified security can be broken when determined people try hard enough.

I hope Zittrain, Wu, and Lessig appreciate this and that they and others acknowledge these beneficial developments so that we can avoid foolish calls to regulate this healthy information ecosystem. These guys should declare victory and pop the champagne. The vision they favor is prevailing.

Hanno F. Kaiser, a U.S. and EU antitrust lawyer and partner with Latham & Watkins LLP, has just released an important essay on a topic I have devoted much time to here over the years: the debate over the relative advantages of “open” vs. “closed” technological systems and the Lessig-Zittrain-Wu school of thinking about these issues.

Kaiser’s essay is entitled, ” Are Closed Systems an Antitrust Problem?” and it appears in the latest edition of Competition Policy International.  This essay is not to be missed. Kaiser’s terrific paper helps us better understand and debunk many of the myths and misperceptions that continue to riddle this debate. Here’s Kaiser’s key insight:

At bottom, the bad reputation of closed systems or walled gardens in the “open versus closed” debate is quite undeserved. Walled gardens generally benefit their environments—both in the real world and the digital realm. The primary purpose of a garden wall, after all, is to shelter plants from wind and frost, not to keep intruders out. In the protected space of the garden, flowers can grow that would not otherwise survive in the wild. Walled gardens thus deliberately create a microcosm that is different from the surrounding ecosystem. Therefore, as long as the garden does not take over the entire ecosystem, walled gardens increase, not reduce, overall diversity. From a competition policy perspective, enjoying the fruits of a walled garden is generally not a guilty pleasure.

Therefore, “as a policy matter, ‘open’ is not necessarily better than ‘closed’,” Kaiser argues, and elaborates as follows:

Our initial question whether “closed” systems are inherently anticompetitive can be restated as follows: “Is there a reason to believe that intra-platform restraints imposed by the platform sponsor on various contributors are commonly exclusionary?” To that question, the answer is no. Is it possible that such restraints can lead to anticompetitive exclusion? Yes, but not unless the platform has significant market power vis-à-vis rival platforms.

In other words, it is foolish to over-simplify the debate as many scholars do when they imply that “open”=good and “closed=bad. (For a recent example, see my essay here earlier this month about Cory Doctorow’s misguided effort to equate open systems with “techno-optimism.”)

In my work, I’ve tried to focus on the happy balance and healthy competition that exists today between such systems. Shouldn’t that be what counts most? Scholars like Lessig, Zittrain, Wu, and Doctorow sometimes seem to want to force a false ‘open-or-nothing-else’ choice upon us. Such thinking is troubling from a policy perspective since it means law might force many consumers to use systems that may not be to their liking.  Moreover, such thinking reveals an ironic insecurity among these “Openness Evangelicals,” as I have called them: they seem to have very little faith in the open systems and technologies they trumpet. If such systems really are superior, shouldn’t they win out in the end?

Importantly, however, Kaiser also debunks the simplistic notion that “open” and “closed” systems are easily defined:

As an analytical tool the labels “open” and “closed” are of limited utility, because they cannot adequately capture the complexity of selective openness at various layers of a system within their single binary distinction.  Addressing the central antitrust issue requires that we move past the “ready labels” and focus on whether specific vertical restraints at all levels result in anticompetitive exclusion and foreclosure.

Quite right. I also appreciated Kaiser’s thought’s on Tim Wu’s “Separations Principle,” which would rigidly segregate all information services into three buckets–content, conduit, and devices–and keep them there. Kaiser says:

The Separations Principle amounts to a general rule against vertical integration in the information sector irrespective of market power, foreclosure, and efficiencies. Such a sweeping rule requires extraordinarily strong justifications, which Wu fails to provide. In fact, our analysis of the competitive effects of open and closed systems does not suggest that closed systems pose anywhere near the level of concern that would justify such a radical expansion of antitrust market regulation.

Kaiser is actually being too generous. Wu’s radical prescription for the information sectors flies in the face of decades of antitrust scholarship and would have devastating ramifications for the Digital Economy in practice, as I noted in part 6 of my multi-part review of his book The Master Switch.

Anyway, read Hanno Kaiser’s terrific paper. It’s a major contribution to the literature in this arena and a real breath of fresh air compared to what I regard as the hopelessly pessimistic (and usually overly-simplistic) literature on “open” vs. “closed” technological systems.

P.S … I put together a separate page here at the TLF to house my 30 or so essays addressing “Problems with the Lessig-Zittrain-Wu Thesis.”  Also, this chapter from the Next Digital Decade book on the case for Internet optimism ties together all my various critiques into one essay.

I’ve spent a great deal of time here defending “techno-optimism” or “Internet optimism” against various attacks through the years, so I was interested to see Cory Doctorow, a novelist and Net activist, take on the issue in a new essay at Locus Online.  I summarized my own views on this issue in two recent book chapters. Both chapters appear in The Next Digital Decade and are labeled “The Case for Internet Optimism.” Part 1 is sub-titled “Saving the Net From Its Detractors” and Part 2 is called “Saving the Net From Its Supporters.” More on my own thoughts in a moment. But let’s begin with Doctorow’s conception of the term.

Doctorow defines “techno-optimism” as follows:

In order to be an activist, you have to be… pessimistic enough to believe that things will get worse if left unchecked, optimistic enough to believe that if you take action, the worst can be prevented. […] Techno-optimism is an ideology that embodies the pessimism and the optimism above: the concern that technology could be used to make the world worse, the hope that it can be steered to make the world better.

What this definition suggests is that Doctorow has a very clear vision of what constitutes “good” vs. “bad” technology or technological developments. He turns to that dichotomy next as he seeks to essentially marry “techno-optimism” to a devotion to the free/open software movement and a rejection of “proprietary technology”:

There are many motivations for contributing to free/open software, but the movement’s roots are in this two-sided optimism/pessimism: pessimistic enough to believe that closed, proprietary technology will win the approval of users who don’t appreciate the dangers down the line (such as lock-in, loss of privacy, and losing work when proprietary technologies are orphaned); optimistic enough to believe that a core of programmers and users can both create polished alternatives and win over support for them by demonstrating their superiority and by helping people understand the risks of closed systems.

In other words, recalling his definition of techno-optimism, Doctorow is basically saying that the way we “steer” technology to “make the world better” is by taking steps to foster or favor “open” technologies over “closed” ones:

It falls to techno-optimists to do two things: first, improve the alternatives and; second, to better articulate the risks of using unsuitable tools in hostile environments. … Herein lies the difference between a ‘‘technology activist’’ and ‘‘an activist who uses technology’’ — the former prioritizes tools that are safe for their users; the latter prioritizes tools that accomplish some activist goal. The trick for technology activists is to help activists who use technology to appreciate the hidden risks and help them find or make better tools. That is, to be pessimists and optimists: without expert collaboration, activists might put themselves at risk with poor technology choices; with collaboration, activists can use technology to outmaneuver autocrats, totalitarians, and thugs.

I have no problem with Doctorow issuing a clarion call to programmers to “find or make better tools.” Power to him and the developers who take him up on the request. But I do have a problem with the sort of ‘you’re-either-with-us-or-against-us’ sort of attitude Doctorow adopts here and in much of his past writing, which attempts to force a false choice upon us regarding “open” vs. “closed” digital technologies.

The irony of Doctorow’s definition of “techno-optimism” is that, as he notes, it’s actually rooted in the fairly pessimistic belief that unless we do something to affect the balance between “open vs. closed” technology then “technology could be used to make the world worse,” he says. I think that view is myopic and misguided for several reasons.

First, I think it’s a mistake to tether “techno-optimism” to overly binary conceptions of “good vs. bad” / “open vs. closed” technology. I spent a great deal of time in the second of my two “Case for Internet Optimism” chapters addressing the group of thinkers that I refer to as “Openness Evangelicals,” or those who believe that “Openness” is almost always The Good; anything “closed” (restricted or proprietary) in nature is The Bad. In a sense, it’s tantamount to picking (or at least favoring) technological winners and losers regardless of what others prefer and voluntarily choose to use because it gives them greater satisfaction.

Second, there are no clear definitions of “openness” or “closedness” (if that’s even a word); both are matters of degree. You can call Apple and Facebook “closed” — and they certainly are in many senses of the term — but they are not nearly as “closed” or “proprietary” as the communications devices or platforms of the past. To put it in Zittrainian parlance, “generativity” continues to thrive even in environments or on platforms that are “closed” is some ways. Almost all modern digital devices and networks feature some generative and “non-generative” attributes. “No one has ever created, and no one will ever create, a system that allows any user to create anything he or she wants.  Instead, every system designer makes innumerable tradeoffs and imposes countless constraints,” note James Grimmelmann and Paul Ohm.“Every generative technology faces … tradeoffs.  Good system designers always restrict generativity of some kinds in order to encourage generativity of other kinds.  The trick is in striking the balance,” they argue.

And most companies now have stronger incentives to strike a better balance between “open” vs. “closed.” Attempting to completely lock-down digital innovation or “generativity” on any platform these days would be a kiss of death. Netizens have come to expect a fair degree of freedom to tinker with and to configure digital technologies in unique ways. That’s why the general progression of things is increasingly toward more “openness,” even if it’s not the perfect openness that Doctorow and others seem to demand.

In this regard, I find it interesting that Doctorow never mentions Twitter in his essay. After all, it’s a somewhat closed system, and seems to be growing more closed in some ways as it searches for a sustainable business model. And yet Twitter — which Doctorow uses aggressively himself — allows for an amazingly “open” channel of constant, instantaneous human communication. By most accounts, it has been a true “technology of freedom” and helped advance importance causes of various sorts.

Will Twitter’s proprietary API make it easier for the company to eventuate manipulate users, or for governments to co-opt for their own nefarious ends?  That seems to be the horror story the Openness Evangelicals want us to believe when they protest proprietary code or private systems. But such manipulation is much easier said than done. And when it is attempted, it is usually unearthed and made visible to us in fairly short order, which spawns the search for, and use of, alternative systems. People and platforms don’t sit still long. Evolution continues at a breakneck pace in the digital arena.

Moreover, say what you will about “proprietary” or “closed” devices and platforms like Twitter, Facebook, Apple, Microsoft, and others, but the reality is this: Part of the reason they have been able to “scale up” and become major communications platforms in the first place is because they are focused on developing a sustainable business model.  Yes, I know this will be absolutely heresy to some of the Openness Evangelicals (how dare these companies seek to make money!), but the reality is that the reach of many platforms like these is fundamentally tied up with their success as good old fashion capitalist entrepreneurs. By contrast, the perfectly “free” and “open” technologies and platforms that Doctorow clearly favors have not been able to achieve similar scale.  I suppose he would claim that’s because proprietary technologies have crowded-out his favored systems and platforms, or that consumers have been duped into making bad choices.

But this raises a third issue: Just how far should we go to advance Doctorow’s vision and “steer” technology in a better direction? Again, I wholeheartedly applaud Doctorow’s call to programmers to “find or make better tools” and I should make it clear that my strong preference is for many of the same tools that he tends to favor. I bet I hate Apple and Facebook even more than Doctorow, for example. I don’t own a single Apple device and I only have a Facebook account as a cyber-traffic sign to direct people to find me elsewhere online. Meanwhile, I love hacking and cracking my devices until I have tweaked them to death — usually quite literally since I end up “bricking” a lot of my devices. (My Dad is still pretty angry about the Commodore 128 computer that my brother and I hacked and destroyed in the early 1980s!) So, at heart, I’m with Doctorow and the “openness-is-better” crowd.

But these are my personal choices. I don’t attempt to impress my values upon others or suggest that there is only One True Way when it comes to digital technology. And I would never be so arrogant as to suggest that my preferred technologies were the “good” ones and those chosen by the cyber-hoi polloi were “bad,” even if they were more “closed” or “proprietary.”

Which raises my ultimate concern with the mindset of Openness Evangelicals: If one is so wedded to bringing about the results they desire, ironically, it becomes significantly more likely that the “openness” they advocate will inevitably devolve into expanded government control of cyberspace and digital systems. If you run around all day lamenting that proprietary, unregulated systems will — as the Openness Evangelicals fear — become subject to “perfect control” by the private sector (as Lawrence Lessig claimed) or lead to a diminution of cyber-freedom (as Jonathan Zittrain and Tim Wu claim), then you shouldn’t be at all surprised when the code cops come knocking and insisting that they’re just there to help.

In closing, I remain perplexed that Doctorow and the Openness Evangelicals have so little faith in the “open” systems and technologies they trumpet. If such systems really are superior, shouldn’t they win out in the end? Regardless, what separates them from me is that I’m far more willing to allow things to run their course within digital markets, even if that means some “closed” devices and platforms remain or even thrive at times.

Thus, when it comes to “techno-optimism,” the better disposition is technological agnosticism and a real “openness” to technological evolution. Here’s how I summarized it in my recent book chapter:

History counsels patience and humility in the face of radical uncertainty and unprecedented change. More generally, it counsels what we might call “technological agnosticism.” We should avoid declaring “openness” a sacrosanct principle and making everything else subservient to it without regard to cost or consumer desires. As Chris Anderson has noted, “there are many Web triumphalists who still believe that there is only One True Way, and will fight to the death to preserve the open, searchable common platform that the Web represented for most of its first two decades (before Apple and Facebook, to name two, decided that there were Other Ways).” The better position is one based on a general agnosticism regarding the nature of technological platforms and change.  In this view, the spontaneous evolution of markets has value in its own right, and continued experimentation with new models—be they “open” or “closed,” “generative” or “tethered”—should be permitted.

Moreover, the real “techno-optimist” doesn’t express the sort of fear and loathing we see in Doctorow’s essay or the work of other digital doomsayers like Wu, Lessig, or Zittrain. [See my critiques of all their works here.] Instead, the real “techno-optimist” embraces change, uncertainty, experimentation, evolution, and does not automatic reject alternative conceptions of “good” technologies or platforms as determined by others who may not share our own preferences.

This is the second of two essays making “The Case for Internet Optimism.” This essay was included in the book, The Next Digital Decade: Essays on the Future of the Internet (2011), which was edited by Berin Szoka and Adam Marcus of TechFreedom. In my previous essay, which I discussed here yesterday, I examined the first variant of Internet pessimism: “Net Skeptics,” who are pessimistic about the Internet improving the lot of mankind. In this second essay, I take on a very different breed of Net pessimists:  “Net Lovers” who, though they embrace the Net and digital technologies, argue that they are “dying” due to a lack of sufficient care or collective oversight.  In particular, they fear that the “open” Internet and “generative” digital systems are giving way to closed, proprietary systems, typically run by villainous corporations out to erect walled gardens and quash our digital liberties.  Thus, they are pessimistic about the long-term survival of the Internet that we currently know and love.

Leading exponents of this theory include noted cyberlaw scholars Lawrence Lessig, Jonathan Zittrain, and Tim Wu.  I argue that these scholars tend to significantly overstate the severity of this problem (the supposed decline of openness or generativity, that is) and seem to have very little faith in the ability of such systems to win out in a free market. Moreover, there’s nothing wrong with a hybrid world in which some “closed” devices and platforms remain (or even thrive) alongside “open” ones. Importantly, “openness” is a highly subjective term, and a constantly evolving one.  And many “open” systems or devices are as perfectly open as these advocates suggest.

Finally, I argue that it’s likely that the “openness” advocated by these advocates will devolve into expanded government control of cyberspace and digital systems than that unregulated systems will become subject to “perfect control” by the private sector, as they fear.  Indeed, the implicit message in the work of all these hyper-pessimistic critics is that markets must be steered in a more sensible direction by those technocratic philosopher kings (although the details of their blueprint for digital salvation are often scarce).   Thus, I conclude that the dour, depressing “the-Net-is-about-to-die” fear that seems to fuel this worldview is almost completely unfounded and should be rejected before serious damage is done to the evolutionary Internet through misguided government action.

I’ve embedded the entire essay down below in Scribd reader, but it can also be found on TechFreedom’s Next Digital Decade book website and SSRN.

The Case for Internet Optimism Part 2 – Saving the Net From Its Supporters (Adam Thierer) http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf

[I am currently helping Berin Szoka edit a collection of essays from various Internet policy scholars for a new PFF book called “The Next Digital Decade: Essays about the Internet’s Future.”  I plan on including two chapters of my own in the book responding to the two distinct flavors of Internet pessimism that I increasingly find are dominating discussions about Internet policy. Below you will see how the first of these two chapters begins. I welcome input as I refine this draft. ]

Surveying the prevailing mood surrounding cyberlaw and Internet policy circa 2010, one is struck by the overwhelming sense of pessimism about our long-term prospects for a better future.   “Internet pessimism,” however, comes in two very distinct flavors:

1. Net Skeptics, Pessimistic about the Internet Improving the Lot of Mankind: The first variant of Internet pessimism is rooted in general skepticism regarding the supposed benefits of cyberspace, digital technologies, and information abundance. The proponents of this pessimistic view often wax nostalgic about some supposed “good ‘ol days” when life was much better (although they can’t seem to agree when those were). At a minimum, they want us to slow down and think twice about life in the Information Age and how it is personally affecting each of us.  Other times, however, their pessimism borders on neo-Ludditism, with proponents recommending steps be taken to curtail what they feel is the destructive impact of the Net or digital technologies on culture or the economy. Leading proponents of this variant of Internet pessimism include:  Neil Postman (Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology), Andrew Keen, (The Cult of the Amateur: How Today’s Internet is Killing our Culture), Lee Siegel, (Against the Machine: Being Human in the Age of the Electronic Mob), Mark Helprin, (Digital Barbarism) and, to a lesser degree, Jaron Lanier (You Are Not a Gadget) and Nicholas Carr (The Big Switch and The Shallows).
2. Net Lovers, Pessimistic about the Future of Openness: A different type of Internet pessimism is on display in the work of many leading cyberlaw scholars today.  Noted academics such as Lawrence Lessig, (Code and Other Laws of Cyberspace), Jonathan Zittrain (The Future of the Internet & How to Stop It), and Tim Wu (The Master Switch The Rise and Fall of Information Empires), embrace the Internet and digital technologies, but argue that they are “dying” due to a lack of sufficient care or collective oversight.  In particular, they fear that the “open” Internet and “generative” digital systems are giving way to closed, proprietary systems, typically run by villainous corporations out to erect walled gardens and quash our digital liberties.  Thus, they are pessimistic about the long-term survival of the wondrous Internet that we currently know and love.

Despite their different concerns, two things unite these two schools of techno-pessimism.  First, there is an elitist air to their pronouncements; a veritable “the-rest-of-you-just-don’t-get-it” attitude pervades their work.  In the case of the Net Skeptics, it’s the supposed decline of culture, tradition, and economy that the rest of us are supposedly blind to, but which they see perfectly—and know how to rectify.  For the Net Loving Pessimists, by contrast, we see this attitude on display when they imply that a Digital Dark Age of Closed Systems is unfolding since nefarious schemers in high-tech corporate America are out to suffocate Internet innovation and digital freedom more generally.  The Net Loving Pessimists apparently see this plot unfolding, but paint the rest of us out to be robotic sheep being led to the cyber-slaughter since we are unwittingly using services (AOL in the old days; Facebook today) or devices (the iPhone and iPad) that play right into the hands of those corporate schemers who are out to erect high and tight walled gardens all around us.

Unsurprisingly, this elitist attitude leads to the second thing uniting these two variants of Net pessimism: An underlying belief that someone or something—most often, the State—must intervene to set us on a better course or protect those things that they regard as sacred.  They either fancy themselves as the philosopher kings who can set things back on a better course, or they imagine that such creatures exist in government today and can be tapped to save us from our impending digital doom—whatever it may be.

In both cases, I will argue that today’s Internet pessimists have over-stated the severity of the respective problems they have identified.  In doing so, I will argue that they both have failed to appreciate the benefits of evolutionary dynamism.  I borrow the term dynamism from Virginia Postrel, who contrasted the conflicting worldviews of dynamism and stasis so eloquently in her 1998 masterpiece, The Future and Its Enemies.  Postrel argued that:

The future we face at the dawn of the twenty-first century is, like all futures left to themselves, “emergent, complex messiness.” Its “messiness” lies not in disorder, but in an order that is unpredictable, spontaneous, and ever shifting, a pattern created by millions of uncoordinated, independent decisions.

However, because “these actions shape a future no one can see, a future that is dynamic and inherently unstable,” Postrel noted.  But that inherent instability and the uncomfortable realization that the future is, by its very nature, unknowable, leads to exactly the sort of anxieties we see on display in the works of both varieties of Internet pessimists today.  Postrel contrasts the two visions of stasis and dynamism and makes the case for embracing dynamism as follows:

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

Indeed it does, and that divide is growing deeper as the two schools of Internet pessimism—unwittingly, of course—work together to concoct a lugubrious narrative of impending techno-apocalypse.  It makes little difference whether the two schools agree on the root cause(s) of all our problems; in the end, it’s their unified call for a more “regulated, engineered world” that makes them both suffer from the same stasis sickness.

In this chapter, I will take on the first variant of Internet pessimism (the Net Skeptics) and make the dynamist case for what I call “pragmatic optimism.”  I will argue that 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? Generally speaking, I’ll take information overload over information poverty any day.  But we should not underestimate or belittle the disruptive impacts associated with the Information Revolution.  We need to find ways to better cope with those changes in a dynamist fashion instead of embracing the stasis notion that we can roll back the clock on progress and recapture “the good ‘ol days”—which actually weren’t all that good.

In another chapter in the book, I will address the second variant of Internet pessimism (the Net Loving Pessimists) and show how reports of the Internet’s death have been greatly exaggerated.  Although the Net Loving Pessimists will likely recoil at the suggestion that they are not dynamists, the reality is that their attitudes and recommendations are decided stasisist in nature. They fret about a cyber-future in which the Internet might not as closely resemble its opening epoch.  Worse yet, many of them agree with what Lawrence Lessig said in his seminal—by highly pessimistic—1999 book, Code and Other Laws of Cyberspace, that “Left to itself, cyberspace will become a perfect tool of control.”  Lessig and his intellectual disciples—especially Zittrain and Wu—have continued to forecast a gloomy digital future unless something is done to address the Great Digital Closing we are supposedly experiencing.  I will argue that while many of us share their appreciation of the Internet’s current nature and its early history, their embrace of the stasis mentality is unfortunate since it forecloses the spontaneous evolution of cyberspace and invites government intervention to create a more “regulated, engineered world” that will, ironically, undermine much of what they hope to preserve about the current Internet.

[ I’ll then go on to finish this chapter, basically by finally completing my essay, “ Are You An Internet Optimist or Pessimist? The Great Debate over Technology’s Impact on Society.” In the second chapter addressing the pessimism of the “Net Lovers,” I will build on my review of Zittrain’s “Future of the Internet,” my two–part debate with Lawrence Lessig on the occasion of the 10th anniversary of “ Code and Other Laws of Cyberspace,” and my forthcoming review of Tim Wu’s soon-to-be-released book, “The Master Switch The Rise and Fall of Information Empires.”  I will then eagerly await the hate mail from all the affected parties.]

by Berin Szoka & Adam Thierer, Progress Snapshot 5.11 (PDF)

Ten years ago, Nobel Prize-winning economist Milton Friedman lamented the “Business Community’s Suicidal Impulse:” the persistent propensity to persecute one’s competitors through regulation or the threat thereof. Friedman asked: “Is it really in the self-interest of Silicon Valley to set the government on Microsoft?” After yesterday’s FCC vote’s to open a formal “Net Neutrality” rule-making, we must ask whether the high-tech industry—or consumers—will benefit from inviting government regulation of the Internet under the mantra of “neutrality.”

The hatred directed at Microsoft in the 1990s has more recently been focused on the industry that has brought broadband to Americans’ homes (Internet Service Providers) and the company that has done more than any other to make the web useful (Google). Both have been attacked for exercising supposed “gatekeeper” control over the Internet in one fashion or another. They are now turning their guns on each other—the first strikes in what threatens to become an all-out, thermonuclear war in the tech industry over increasingly broad neutrality mandates. Unless we find a way to achieve “Digital Détente,” the consequences of this increasing regulatory brinkmanship will be “mutually assured destruction” (MAD) for industry and consumers.

New Fronts in the Neutrality Wars

The FCC’s proposed rules would apply to all broadband providers, including wireless, but not to Google or many other players operating in other layers of the Net who favor such broadband-specific rules. With this rulemaking looming, AT&T came after Google with letters to the FCC in late September and then another last week accusing the company of violating neutrality principles in their business practices and arguing that any neutrality rules that apply to ISPs should apply equally to Google’s panoply of popular services. In particular, AT&T accused Google of “search engine bias,” suggesting that only government-enforced neutrality mandates could protect consumers from Google’s supposed “monopolist” control.

The promise made yesterday by the FCC—to only apply neutrality principles to the infrastructure layer of the Net—is hollow and will ultimately prove unenforceable. The reality is that regulation always spreads. The march of regulation can sometimes be glacial, but it is, sadly, almost inevitable: Regulatory regimes grow but almost never contract. Indeed, in some ways, the prediction we made just three weeks ago is already coming true: The basic premise of neutrality regulation is already being proposed for other layers of the Internet—and not just by AT&T in retaliation. One need not agree with all of AT&T’s accusations to recognize that, whatever the FCC might say today, any large online intermediary with a popular platform potentially faces the threat of “network neutrality” mandates—because every platform is essentially a “network,” too. We’re not just talking about “search neutrality” (Google as well as Microsoft) but also about “device neutrality” (mobile handsets), “app neutrality” (Apple’s iTunes store, Facebook’s developers and Google’s Android mobile OS) and so on for social networking, email, instant messaging, online advertising, etc.

An open letter sent to FCC Chairman Julius Genachowski this week by 28 founders and CEOs of leading application providers—including Amazon, Google, Facebook, Netflix, Craigslist, Sony and Twitter—speaks generally about the need for the FCC to enforce a “guarantee of neutral, nondiscriminatory access by users.” While many of these signatories may have in mind ISPs as the network “gatekeepers” that need to be reined in by the FCC, the more successful among them are likely to find this letter used against them in the future—perhaps even by co-signatories—to advance a broad conception of what the government must do to ensure “openness” and “access” for platforms at all layers of the Internet.

Dumb Networks, Dumb Devices

The intellectual foundations for this regulatory creep have already been laid by groups like Free Press and Public Knowledge and law professors like Columbia’s Tim Wu, Harvard’s Jonathan Zittrain and Seton Hall’s Frank Pasquale. As originally conceived by Tim Wu in 2003, “network neutrality” is not unique to broadband networks: “the basic economic problem found in the network neutrality debate (a form of ‘platform exclusion’ or ‘vertical foreclosure’) can be found in many other markets.” Indeed, Wu’s popular Net Neutrality FAQ declares:

The promotion of network neutrality is no different than the challenge of promoting fair evolutionary competition in any privately owned environment, whether a telephone network, operating system, or even a retail store. Government regulation in such contexts invariably tries to help ensure that the short-term interests of the owner do not prevent the best products or applications becoming available to end-users.

Zittrain picked up where Wu left off in The Future of the Internet and How to Stop It—attacking, as the enemies of innovation, not ISPs but the supposedly “closed” platforms of Apple, TiVo and Microsoft’s Xbox. Zittrain warns that:

If there is a present worldwide threat to neutrality in the movement of bits, it comes not from restrictions on traditional Internet access that can be evaded using generative PCs, but from enhancements to traditional and emerging appliancized services that are not open to third-party tinkering.

Zittrain’s general solution is “API [Applications Programming Interface] neutrality:” If you create a platform (whether hardware or software) and begin allowing third-party contributions (“generativity”), you will lose all control over devices or applications that can run on that platform.

Those who offer open APIs on the Net in an attempt to harness the generative cycle ought to remain application-neutral after their efforts have succeeded, so all those who built on top of their interface can continue to do so on equal terms…. [N]etwork neutrality ought to be applied to the new platforms of Web services that, in turn, depend on Internet connectivity to function.

Clearly, if Zittrain and his allies have their way, the sort of neutrality mandates envisioned by the FCC or some Congressmen for ISPs will eventually cover companies such as Apple, Google, Facebook, Myspace, Twitter and Amazon—all singled out by Zittrain in a New York Times op-ed in July:

If the market settles into a handful of gated cloud communities whose proprietors control the availability of new code, the time may come to ensure that their platforms do not discriminate. Such a demand could take many forms, from an outright regulatory requirement to a more subtle set of incentives — tax breaks or liability relief — that nudge companies to maintain the kind of openness that earlier allowed them a level playing field on which they could lure users from competing, mighty incumbents.

Frank Pasquale agrees on the need to restrain all “the dominant players at all layers of online life,” but focuses on his demand for a Federal Search Commission to control supposedly “biased” search results. While the FCC wrings its hands over “managed services” offered by ISPs, search engines are increasingly offering their own value-added services by “blending” algorithmically-derived results with special features like maps, videos, books or music depending on what the search term suggests the user is interested in. “Artificially” ensuring that these features appear on the first page of search results is clearly non-neutral, and necessarily involves search engines making ”managed” decisions as to whose features to include. Yet such features also clearly benefit users—dramatically improving the usefulness of search engines and helping to sustain struggling business models like music retailing.

But one need not resort to the works of “ivory tower” academics to see the slippery slope we’re already tumbling down with the infinitely elastic principle of “neutrality.” The prospect of the FCC gradually transforming into a “Federal Information Commission” becomes more apparent when one reads the Wireless Innovation and Investment Notice of Inquiry recently released by the FCC:

As other approaches, such as cloud computing, evolve, will established standards or de facto standards become more important to the applications development process? For example, can a dominant cloud computing position raise the same competitive issues that are now being discussed in the context of network neutrality? Will it be necessary to modify the existing balance between regulatory and market forces to promote further innovation in the development and deployment of new applications and services?

One can imagine how some might use such language to accuse Google of being in “a dominant cloud computing position” such that “the context of network neutrality” will be applied to cloud service (like Google Voice) to “modify the existing balance between regulatory and market forces” through regulation. Indeed, that’s precisely what AT&T has suggested in recent letters (September 25 ^th and October 14 ^th) to the FCC.

AT&T’s partner Apple has already been the subject of such attacks for its decision to block the Google Voice app earlier this summer. The incident marked the beginning of open warfare between Google and AT&T/Apple. The FCC quickly jumped into the mix, first questioning how Apple manages its iTunes apps store for the iPhone, then questioning how Google runs its free Voice application. What legal authority the FCC has over either service is far from clear, but Apple seems to have gotten the message: It recently approved the Spotify music streaming app for the iPhone, which could be a serious competitive threat to the iTunes music store. This small incident highlights how easily regulators can impose their will through informal mechanisms like open-ended investigations even without clear authority to issue rules or bring enforcement actions. Yet none dare call it what it is: regulatory blackmail.

The Inevitability of Regulatory Capture

No doubt, other industry players will cheer on such regulatory harassment of the titans of tech—and maybe even demand more of it. Regulatory creep is driven by more than the self-interests of every bureaucracy to expand its own mission, budget and staff. As the Electronic Frontier Foundation has noted, “Experience shows that the FCC is particularly vulnerable to regulatory capture.” While lobbyists play an important role in defending business from government, all too many businesses naively look at government as a beast that can be tamed, trained, and turned to one’s own advantage, and often try to use the expanding regulatory apparatus to their own advantage or simply throw their competitors under the bus to save themselves. The result is a Hobbesian regulatory “war of all against all” within industry.

As Professor Alfred E. Kahn explained in his 2-volume opus, The Economics of Regulation, all regulation—however high-minded—is inevitably captured by special interests because:

When a commission is responsible for the performance of an industry, it is under never completely escapable pressure to protect the health of the companies it regulates, to assure a desirable performance by relying on those monopolistic chosen instruments and its own controls rather than on the unplanned and unplannable forces of competition. […] Responsible for the continued provision and improvement of service, [the regulatory commission] comes increasingly and understandably to identify the interest of the public with that of the existing companies on whom it must rely to deliver goods.

If Internet regulation follows the same course as other industries, the FCC and/or lawmakers will eventually indulge calls by all sides to bring more providers and technologies “into the regulatory fold.” Clearly, this process has already begun. Even before rules are on the books, the companies that have made America the leader in the Digital Revolution are turning on each other in a dangerous game of brinksmanship, escalating demands for regulation and playing right into the hands of those who want to bring the entire high-tech sector under the thumb of government—under an Orwellian conception of “Internet Freedom” that makes corporations the real Big Brother, and government, our savior.

Toward a Less MAD World: Digital Détente

Sincere defenders of real Internet Freedom—that is, freedom from government techno-meddling—recognize that there will always be disputes over how companies deal with each other online across all layers of the Internet. The question is not whether we need a technical coordinating mechanism for handling such disputes. Someone should mediate conflicts over alleged deviations from abstract neutrality principles. But should that arbitrator be an inherently political body like FCC? Or should we instead look to truly independent, apolitical arbitrators like the Internet Engineering Task Force or collaborative efforts like the Network Neutrality Squad? Such alternative dispute resolution mechanisms and fora need not have the power of law to be effective: The weight of their expert opinion, based on careful investigation of the facts, would likely resolve most disputes, because companies have strong reputational incentives to comply with reasoned rulings by truly neutral experts. And the white hot spotlight of public attention has a way of disciplining marketplace behavior as well.

Government would still have a role to play, of course, in enforcing antitrust laws where anticompetitive harm to consumers can be proven, and in enforcing the promises companies make to consumers. Ultimately, however, certain business models and technologies require non-neutral treatment, and the best remedy for concerns about non-neutrality is competition itself: In the high-tech sector more than any other, disruptive innovation makes it difficult for even the most successful companies to stay on top forever. Competitive entry—or even the threat of new entry—provides a powerful check on the power of so-called “gatekeepers,” but even more important is the prospect that today’s leaders will be tomorrow’s laggards: There’s little reason to think Google (search and advertising), Apple (smart phones and music) and Facebook (social networking) won’t someday find themselves playing catch-up, just as IBM (computers), Microsoft (desktop software and search), Friendster and MySpace (social networking), and Yahoo! and AOL (web portals) have had to do.

“Digital Détente” would require that all parties concede something and work constructively toward a more “peaceful” ( i.e., less regulatory) resolution. And yet, no Internet company wants to disarm unilaterally, foreswearing politics as a continuation of competition by other means. Only through multilateral disarmament could they break out of the current cycle of regulatory one-upmanship: If the companies in the Internet ecosystem could form a united front against increased government regulation and in favor of removing existing regulatory obstacles to competition, they could all return to their core competencies of creativity and innovation.

The alternative is a regulatory “nuclear winter”: high-tech titans turning their political fire on each other, catching innocent third parties in the cross-fire and bringing a dark cloud of government regulation over the entire Internet. Such increased regulation would stifle investment and innovation throughout the Internet ecosystem. Thus, it is consumers who will ultimately suffer most from the tech industry’s suicidal impulse, as their choices and digital lives are impoverished. For their sake, we hope all industry players will step back from the brink to avoid such high-tech mutually assured destruction.

Over the past year or so, many market-oriented critics of Google, like Scott Cleland and Richard Bennett, have criticized the company for aligning itself with Left-leaning causes and intellectuals. Lately, however, what I find interesting is how many leading leftist intellectuals and organizations have begun turning on the company and becoming far more critical of the America’s greatest capitalist success story of the past decade. The reason this concerns me is that I see a unholy Right-Left alliance slowly forming that could lead to more calls for regulation not just of Google, but the entire search marketplace.  In other words,  “Googlephobia” could bubble over into something truly ugly.

Consider the comments of Tim Wu and Lawrence Lessig in Jeff Rosen’s huge New York Times Magazine article this weekend, “Google’s Gatekeepers.” Along with Yochai Benkler, Lessig and Wu form the Holy Trinity of the Digital Left; they set the intellectual agenda for the Left on information technology policy issues. Rosen quotes both Wu and Lessig in his piece going negative on Google. Wu tells Rosen that “To love Google, you have to be a little bit of a monarchist, you have to have faith in the way people traditionally felt about the king.” Moreover:

“The idea that the user is sovereign has transformed the meaning of free speech,” Wu said enthusiastically about the Internet age. But Google is not just a neutral platform for sovereign users; it is also a company in the advertising and media business. In the future, Wu said, it might slant its search results to favor its own media applications or to bury its competitors. If Google allowed its search results to be biased for economic reasons, it would transform the way we think about Google as a neutral free-speech tool. The only editor is supposed to be a neutral algorithm. But that would make it all the more insidious if the search algorithm were to become biased. “During the heyday of Microsoft, people feared that the owners of the operating systems could leverage their monopolies to protect their own products against competitors,” says the Internet scholar Lawrence Lessig of Stanford Law School. “That dynamic is tiny compared to what people fear about Google. They have enormous control over a platform of all the world’s data, and everything they do is designed to improve their control of the underlying data. If your whole game is to increase market share, it’s hard to do good, and to gather data in ways that don’t raise privacy concerns or that might help repressive governments to block controversial content.”

So, here we have Wu raising the specter of search engine bias and Lessig raising the specter of Google-as-panopticon. And this comes on top of groups like EPIC and CDT calling for more regulation of the online advertising marketplace in the name of protecting privacy.  Alarm bells must be going off at the Googleplex. But we all have reason to be concerned because greater regulation of Google would mean greater regulation of the entire code / application layer of the Net.  It’s bad enough that we likely have greater regulation of the infrastructure layer on the way thanks to Net neutrality mandates. We need to work hard to contain the damage of increased calls for government to get its hands all over every other layer of the Net.