Why Does Google Love Piracy?

In yesterday’s post, I referred to the Android-based service called Google Now, which is about as close as your mobile device comes (so far) to reading your mind and anticipating your wants and needs.  By gathering data from contacts, emails, destinations visited, searches made, etc. the algorithms applied by the Now service essentially learn a user’s interests and then prompts him with what Google calls Cards, containing information or recommendations that may be either general or timely.  As Andy at TorrentFreak reports, “Google Now and its ‘Card’ notifications often pop up at the most opportune times, offering advice about things that haven’t yet happened in a users [sic] life – but are about to.”

As stated yesterday, I cannot personally imagine the benefits of this type of service outweighing the utterly invasive ickiness of it, and Andy also acknowledges that Google Now may be getting too close for comfort for many users.  But the headline reason TF was citing the service is that one of their regular readers noted that Google Now had recognized his interest in the character Deadpool and so delivered a Card recommending that he can view the recently-released feature film on a major torrent site. Andy writes, “Obviously there isn’t a team at Google hand-crafting Google Cards designed to promote unauthorized torrents. However, this does appear to show that Google’s algorithms are smart enough to put together interesting advice based on multiple and diverse information sources.”

Right.  Google surely is not “hand-crafting” Cards to promote piracy; but as usual, it isn’t making any effort to mitigate it either.  I know. I get it.  If the user shows an interest in Deadpool and also regularly visits torrent sites, Google’s algorithm is going to cross-reference these data and somewhat blindly produce the result described.  But that doesn’t mean the search giant doesn’t have the capability to limit or even stop themselves from pushing infringing sites like mints at the drug store register.  We know they have this capability.  In fact, I bet a user could read dozens of articles about human trafficking all day long without ever once receiving a Google Card suggesting where he can buy a slave.  (Please let me be right about this.)

Google is apparently addicted to pushing mass copyright infringement at every opportunity.  The difference between a search yielding legal and informative results about Deadpool and a search yielding a list of infringing sites offering the film hinges on whether or not you put the word “watch” in front of the title.  And even if nobody cared about the fact that this multi-billion dollar company is effectively pushing content theft, it also happens to be offering really crappy search service. I mean heaven forbid a user who isn’t attuned to the darker aspects of the Web simply wants information about a movie, and Google has decided that if he uses the word “watch” in his query, he gets to be vulnerable to links that are increasingly loaded with malware.  That’s cracker-jack service from the biggest search engine in the world.  But Google Now takes the problem a step further.  Rather than the user explicitly searching for information, and then navigating around useless and predatory results, Google Now can actually push a recommendation that is not only illegal, but potentially hazardous to the user.

More broadly, what does this story say about the larger promise of these platforms to create new opportunities for commerce and entrepreneurism?  Because an interest in a hot new film like Deadpool is an opportunity to drive a consumer to comics, merchandise, fan sites, or (call me crazy) any number of legal platforms to watch the movie! So, any prompt that would send the consumer to a torrent site is pure opportunity cost for the legitimate market.  Considering how leading-edge applications like Google Now really are, it seems like a one hell of a precedent for the company to set given all their pretensions to be great innovators.  Then again, this is SOP for Google, isn’t it?

Apple v FBI Doesn’t Address the Real Challenge

In a story that appeared Monday in The Guardian, writer Danny Yadron projects a hypothetical, but not technically unrealistic, future scenario in which we imagine our driverless car hijacks a run to the grocery store, transporting us instead to a police station because face-recognition software resulted in our being wanted for questioning in an investigation.  The eerie itself, Yadron reports, comes from engineer and former US government privacy policy consultant  Ashkan Soltani, who warns that this kind of circumstance could become reality if Apple loses its fight with the FBI over whether or not it must write code to circumvent the security system of San Bernardino terrorist Sayed Farook’s iPhone.

Of course, it is not farfetched to anticipate new forms of abuse in our increasingly networked lives, and it is prudent to seek remedies in policy and caselaw precedent that may preempt such scenarios; but I’m not sure that a ruling one way or another in the Apple case would be quite so prophetic as some observers suggest.  In fact, assuming we do become increasingly networked and adapt to the holistic Internet of Things as effortlessly and rapidly as the technologists expect us to, the matter of protecting civil liberties in this future society seems increasingly paradoxical. After all, government agencies are supposed to be our hedge against the excesses of private enterprise that might invade our privacy or run afoul of anti-trust restrictions; or government agencies are meant to protect us from criminal abuse of the same systems. But do we simultaneously expect private enterprise or “white hat” hackers to protect us from the overreach of government?

Yadron’s article addresses several aspects of this challenge, citing competing points of view from the policy, law-enforcement, and technology sectors.  And there are no easy answers.  For one thing, the current Apple case involving the cell phone of a known terrorist and a warrant issued by court order may be too specific to beg the broader question as to who controls the code that runs our day-to-day lives.  As of yesterday morning, the FBI announced that they may be able to crack the iPhone without Apple’s help; but even if the presently-suspended legal case were to proceed, Yadron notes that the court could rule in the FBI’s favor in this one extraordinary instance while remaining silent on the much larger question.

My own assumption is that, with regard to cases involving law enforcement, the public is still served by the courts and due process and that new legislation may not be necessary to adapt to new technology. For instance, as dramatic as the futuristic arrest by driverless car scenario may sound, it would be an illegal detention according to existing statute, at least the way Soltani imagines it.  But if similar automation were one day used to capture a wanted criminal based on evidence and an arrest warrant, due process would not necessarily suffer just because the arrest would be partly effected via code. Particularly as we anticipate an inevitable increase in automated law enforcement practices, if we cannot continue to invest faith and power in judicial oversight, we’re basically hosed.

With regard to living day-to-day in a networked society, though, we probably have to imagine scenarios more subtle than the automated arrest by our own robot vehicles—like undetectable invasions that track habits and behaviors, all organized into data that could be used to manipulate or determine opportunities for jobs, education, healthcare, insurance, credit, and so on.  The opportunities these encroachments provide for mischief by corporate, criminal, or government entities are indeed new territory—much more so it seems than the Apple/FBI case—and could easily demand new legislation.

Yadron quotes science fiction writer Bruce Bethke, who gives examples like your cellphone notifying your health insurance provider when you enter a tobacco shop. Users of Google Now on their Android phones have opted into a “service” that cross-references search, GMail content, location, etc. to anticipate their wants and needs and then provides suggestions via  Cards.  Why anyone finds this more helpful than creepy is a mystery to me. All I imagine is Montag’s doe-eyed wife, subservient to the system in Fahrenheit 451, when I contemplate the capacity for this technology to push behaviors, including political or social beliefs. Even at its most benign, it just sounds annoying, like they should have called it Google Nag instead of Google Now.

Meanwhile, we should expect to see a growing market for anti-surveillance products and services for what can only become an increasingly paranoid world in which we are voluntarily spying on ourselves.  As AlterNet reports, English designer Adam Harvey is making wardrobe that will shield against thermal imaging, and he’s demonstrating makeup techniques that will confound face-recognition software. Such efforts are endorsed by organizations like the Electronic Frontier Foundation and Fight for the Future because the presumed abusers of surveillance technology will be government agencies, but what about the more subtle private-enterprise promises of the networked society?

Will we live in “smart” homes enjoying their many conveniences but always sure to wear our cloaking PJs?   Will we need to buy and vigilantly update an array of countermeasures to protect our privacy inside our own walls because now they really do have ears?  As we interact with our own homes and vehicles and with one another, we will constantly be sending data to somebody’s servers somewhere.  We are already doing this, though not as holistically as the Internet of Things implies.  How do we write legislation that protects against corporate, government, or criminal abuse of these data and systems?  Or more immediately, whom can we expect to represent civil liberties in this context?

Because I think organizations like EFF and Fight for the Future are often haggling over small potatoes while getting nowhere near the larger question.  These digital rights activists—who are dependent upon Silicon Valley support by the way—make a lot of noise about our “right” to jailbreak these disposable, hand-held devices—something very few of us will ever bother to do—without coming close to having the real discussion about whether or not public agency oversight will be able to protect consumers in a fully-networked future.  When too much of the emphasis on anti-surveillance assumes “government” will be the only abuser, we forget that there is a profit motive in all this monitoring by private enterprise.  Meanwhile, as Google’s presence in Washington increases considerably, are legislators and executive branch officials getting advice from Google on how to protect us from Google?  Because one way or another, we seem to be voluntarily becoming a surveillance society, and I wonder if there will ultimately be an opt out button.

Growth in Legal Platforms for Film & TV Continues

In a recent post, I alluded to a statement by the Copyright Alliance, which emphasizes that Section 1201 of the DMCA supports the development of multiple distribution channels for premium content, giving consumers and producers more choices in the digital market.  This section of the DMCA prohibits circumvention of Technical Protection Measures (TPM) used to ensure that, for instance, if you want a Netflix account, you need to subscribe in order to acquire log in credentials for the service.  This legal framework creates a competitive market for investment in the various types of subscription-based, and ad-driven on-demand models, which is increasingly how consumers choose to view filmed entertainment.

A new report conducted by SNL Kagan for the MPAA demonstrates continued growth in the availability of filmed-entertainment titles across multiple, online platforms.  Since the last report of its kind, conducted in 2013 by KPMG, SNL Kagan’s study indicates steady growth of available works across the four types of online services studied in the previous report, as well as growth in TV Everywhere services, which was not included two years ago.  The service type that showed the most dramatic increase (23%) was in Subscription Video On Demand (SVOD) services, and this increase is largely attributed to new 2015 offerings from HBO, Showtime, and SlingTV.

The headline for consumers is that of the 47 online services reviewed, SNL Kagan found that 98% of the premium films and 94% of the premium TV series studied were available on at least one service and that 95% films and 85% of TV series were available on at least five of the services. The films and TV shows included in the research represented a cross section of commercially-successful and critically-acclaimed titles with the expected result that the more current (i.e. within the last 5-6 years) the title, the more likely one is to find it available, especially with television series.  Even among the category of Emmy winners, which naturally includes many older titles, the study showed an increase of 5% in availability since the KMPG study, suggesting that a steady increase in archival material is being made available as well as newer releases.

Suffice to say, there’s more filmed entertainment available on demand than anyone realistically has time to watch.  So, why does piracy continue to grow—even in North America—in tandem with growth in legal availability of films and TV shows?  Don’t all the net-savvy pundits continue to insist that “piracy is just a reaction to scarcity”? Yet as the so-called scarcity void continues to be filled, piracy continues to increase.

Now, I have no doubt that out of every million users who pirate movies and TV there are a couple hundred seeking obscure, hard-to-find titles; but we can’t pretend this is a significant factor when year after year, the most-pirated titles are always the mainstream hits that are the easiest to access through legal channels.  The bottom line is that if piracy were driven exclusively by fans of the avant-garde, quirky, and hard-to-find titles, it would not be a multi-million-dollar, criminal industry.  I think the only honest thing to say is that piracy probably continues to increase because free is an attractive price that no legitimate business can offer.  Meanwhile, the users of pirate sites are being subsidized by the fans who pay their subscription, rental, and purchase fees.

Despite this growing abundance of stuff to watch, though, it still seems that every unavailable title becomes an excuse to perpetuate the narrative that “Hollywood” is stuck in an outdated business model, clinging to mechanisms like copyright as a form of protectionism. But the growth in availability reflected in this report belies that narrative; and the deals among film producers and platforms like Netflix, Google Play, and Amazon ought to dismiss the premise. But more acutely, what consumers need to understand about the process of making titles available has nothing to do with a failure to innovate and even less to do with technology itself.

Unlike criminal organizations, legitimate owners of film and TV titles—whether they’re independent production companies or major studios—are not free to simply violate contractual arrangements that pre-date these new distribution models.  Sometimes called the “rights thicket”, the collection of licensing arrangements that may be attached to a given title has to be renegotiated for a new distribution platform or new market that was not included in the original deal; and these renegotiations run the gamut from affordable to very expensive, from relatively simple to nearly impossible.

Critics sometimes dismiss this challenge, suggesting that as long as there is financial incentive, producers will find a way to solve the “rights thicket” problem; but that’s easier said as a generalization than it is accomplished on a case-by-case basis.  If an indie film producer has to spend $200,000 in legal fees to make his 30-year-old title available on iTunes, the film is going to have to be rented or purchased quite a lot for that investment to have been worth it.  For some fans of this film, its lack of availability is a justification for pirating the title; but no matter what, this narrative that the producer is simply greedy or too myopic to innovate is a misconception. Meanwhile, even the availability of that more obscure title on the pirate site is also subsidized the by the illegal distribution of the major (otherwise easily available) titles that draw most of the traffic.  And of course, not one second of any of this material would be available without the legal frameworks that make investment in production and distribution possible in the first place.

Two years ago, when KPMG released its report, I pointed out that just the titles in their study amounted to about 6.5 hours of legally available content per day for a year.  Now, it’s about 3-4% more than that. So, when do we get to drop the “scarcity” rhetoric?