Tag: facebook

Patent Hypocrisy Raises Privacy Concerns

A few posts ago, I reported that the major lobbying muscle in the Internet industry backs a patent “reform” bill (HR 9) called the Innovation Act. I argued in that post that while this reform claims to eliminate nuisance “patent trolls” from clogging up the system with dubious claims, what it really does is eliminate competition from the market.  Because, while the Silicon Valley PR hydra continues to sell the message that intellectual property is an outdated concept in the digital age — one that is chilling the general public’s civil liberties no less — they don’t actually mean that IP is outdated for them, just for everyone else.

Not surprisingly, a web search is no way to get a quick answer as to how many patents these companies hold. Most especially, typing “How many patents does Google have?” into a Google search yields a rather opaque set of first results from the “organizer of all data.” I had to use Bing to get to this article from 2013 in MIT Technology Review, which indicates that since 2007, Google has accelerated its patent activity to the tune of over 1,500 awards per year.  This is still far behind IBM, but not bad for a company that keeps telling the public the USPTO is “overwhelmed” by applications and flimsy claims. This 2012 article from ZD Net estimates that Facebook owned 812 patents at the time of publication, nearly all of these purchased from IBM in a single week as an apparent move to build up its defensive position against litigation from Yahoo! and Mitel.  And this 2014 article in IP Watchdog offers some praise to Facebook for its “more developed” patent strategy in contrast to Twitter vis-a-vis market valuation.

I mention this final example to make the point that there is nothing inherently wrong with these companies availing themselves of IP protections; what’s wrong is the hypocrisy of backing policy change that would create an uneven playing field for big vs small.  To put that in brass tacks, if one of these big boys infringed some IP you created, it isn’t enough that you’d be at a financial disadvantage in a lawsuit, but they’d also rewrite the law to possibly label you a “troll” in order to invalidate your claim in the first place.

But so what? These are the real innovators, right?  They’re innovating a brighter future for everyone and doing it all for free in the name of freedom and open freeness and free openness and disruptive free open innovation and freedom. Right?  Yeah.  So, here’s one of Facebook’s latest patents, Patent No. 9,100,400, which this excerpt from a post by the law firm of Gottlieb Rackman & Reisman explains clearly:

“In the patent, Facebook explains that it has invented a system by which, among other things, it can take the data, specifically your list of friends or your “social network,” and examine the credit ratings of those in your social network. The data is then used to provide information about YOU to lenders, presumably under the theory that “birds of a feather flock together.” If your friends collectively have a good credit rating, the lender might give you loan. If your friends collectively have a poor rating, the lender can close its file on your application. The point here that that lenders who might see some benefit in having data about your social network to judge the likelihood of your ability to pay the loan, or even your willingness to pay it back, will likely be paying Facebook (or any company that Facebook licenses) for the data.”

At the top of the list of magical thinkers I distrust are religious zealots followed closely by actuaries, the latter being too often engaged in devising some alchemical rationale to correlate, for instance, your choice of wardrobe with the insurance premium you should pay.  And we should not be surprised at all — in fact we have already seen other evidence — that social media profiles can become part of your unintended resume, your medical history, your credit-worthiness, your insurability; in short, your worthiness to live among the haves instead of the have nots according to someone’s data-driven decision process.

Now it is possible, that Facebook and lenders will not be able to implement this patented system as described without running afoul of the Equal Credit Opportunity Act, but if adopted, how is this credit based on the company you keep not a potential digital-age means of helping the rich stay rich and the poor stay poor?  When an entity like an insurer, creditor, or potential employer wants to disenfranchise a type of person — black, gay, Mexican, women who have premarital sex! — they devise criteria to avoid direct conflict with anti-discrimination laws.  “We didn’t deny you that loan because you’re black, we denied it because your friends (who didn’t manage to escape the impoverished neighborhood you did) all have bad credit scores.”

So, it’s not hard to imagine a future with a variety of creative, actuarial schematics by which any individual or group may be disenfranchised simply because we have voluntarily made what we used to call “private life” a matter of public record. And because this is the new normal, perhaps we ought to be drawing new legal boundaries regarding personal information and discrimination, but that doesn’t seem to be the kind of reform any of the digital-age leaders want to talk about.

Is Transparency Even Possible Anymore?

The other day, a meme was haunting my Facebook feed with a photo of Senator Elizabeth Warren and a quote attributed to her saying that the TPP negotiations are too secretive, even beyond the scrutiny of Congress.  Now, I really like Senator Warren, and she’s one of the few pols who is likely to earn the benefit of my doubt.  And assuming the quote is accurately attributed, I’m open to the idea that this unprecedentedly large and complex trade agreement is being negotiated in an unprecedentedly secretive manner, though that may not be the case.  As stated in earlier posts on this subject, trade negotiations are historically pretty close-vested affairs out of necessity; it’s either that or no trade deals at all.  But setting that specific debate aside, whether it’s the TPP or any number of other initiatives meant to be conducted by elected and appointed representatives, I have to wonder about the prospect of an effective measure of transparency in the digital age.  After all, even today, it’s still newsmakers who shape public opinion. But who are the newsmakers?

Let’s imagine for the moment that the daily doings of the TPP were made publicly available in real time, at least in the U.S.  Based on comparable data measuring political involvement, let’s assume that 50% of Americans will not only not care, but would say, “The TP-what?” if asked for an opinion.  And let’s go crazy and say that a full 20% of Americans would get so involved that they watch the negotiations like sports fans, parsing all the language, arguing about it on social media, and making a real hobby out of Tradespotting.  Setting aside whatever we might assume about individuals who have this kind of time on their hands, the odds are quite high that these most ardent Tradespotters are also going to be the most entrenched in their views, predisposed to dislike global trade agreements, but all for different reasons.  Because the people who fit that description includes a pretty diverse range — from NGOs who seriously study global economics and real matters of social justice to anarchists who don’t know anything, but really like to show up at WTO summits and set stuff on fire.  In either case, this category of watchdogs is likely too small collectively to have much political influence and too fragmented as a segment to represent a collective in the first place.

So, that would leave 40% of us who care about a deal like the TPP but cannot possibly spend our days scrutinizing, let alone understanding, the fungible details of a multi-lateral trade agreement.  Still, we like transparency, we’ll call ourselves open to all sides, and we are a big enough, engaged enough population to have political influence on our representatives.  Historically, I think it’s a pretty fair portrayal of the engaged American citizen to describe him as someone who cannot engage first-hand with every issue but who looks to experts — journalists, trusted elected representatives, experienced analysts, etc.  And this is where I believe the proverbial wheels have come off in the digital age.  Because not only have many of the traditional information filters lost credibility (in some cases deservedly so) in our digitized times, but they are also often outnumbered and outspent by commercial entities that are in a position to buy public opinion on trade or any other issue in which they have a vested interest.

I’ve accused organizations like the EFF of scare-mongering on behalf of the Internet and electronics industries with regard to the intellectual property components of the TPP. Agree with that example or not, what I think is important is that The Koch Brothers, the pharmaceutical industry, the bankers, or any other powerful interest can all avail themselves of the same, low-cost, manipulative tools that can sway public opinion either for or against a particular initiative. And against is always easier.

On social media manipulation can look an awful lot like transparency when it is in fact corporate PR disguised as public advocacy. Because you’ll likely never see a meme or an article with the headline “Pfizer says XYZ trade deal will make the world a better place.”  Instead, you’ll see The Global Outreach Center for the Benefit of Mankind and Kittens says, “XYZ  trade deal will make the world a better place.”  And lo, it turns out The GOCBMK just happens to be funded by the pharmaceutical industry.  So, for us 40% of Americans who try to be engaged in the traditional manner of seeking wisdom from middle-man sources, and who now get most of our leads from social media, it is entirely possible that we are looking through much more opaque filters than we were 20 years ago.

Sticking with the example of trade agreements, these are initiatives that naturally affect hundreds or thousands of business interests.  So, if we were to make the language of ongoing negotiations publicly available, it’s the wealthiest corporate interests that have both the time and the resources to launch social media campaigns designed to scare people about whatever it is they might want to kill in the deal.  That kind of PR is not new, but it is cheaper,  faster, and potentially more effective in a climate that has devalued and fragmented the authority of traditional, disinterested commentary. So, one unintended consequence of seeking greater transparency in our times is that the information, which sill won’t be accessed by most citizens, does provide free grist for the PR mill of any vested interest that wants to manipulate that information.

So where do we net out? With something like trade agreements, I’m betting we wind up more or less where we started.  We elect a president, and whoever he or she is appoints trade representatives to negotiate treaties that have to be ratified by Congress.   We hope these deals do more good than harm, knowing full well that any two Americans will likely disagree on the definitions of good and harm.  As it ever was, we remain as good or bad as the people we elect and appoint. Meanwhile, what seems different today is this notion that digitized transparency cuts out the middle-man, but I believe this is illusory.  More typically, I think social media platforms create a kind of power vacuum in which sober, expert voices are often drowned out by the circus of new middle men who know how to dazzle or frighten an audience.

This is a particularly acute matter to consider this week as we watch some of the major news organizations enter into the Instant Articles deal with Facebook. In this new arrangement, readers will no longer have to leave the walled garden of Facebook to read the full text of a piece produced by, for example, The New York Times.  That’s convenient for the reader, but as writer Chris Cillizza points out in this piece for The Washington Post, such arrangements radically alter the relationship between the content of journalism and the advertising that supports it.  The traditional disconnect between advertisers in a newspaper and any individual story in that paper is conducive to the overall integrity of the many stories being published.  But when individual stories are each valued by their popularity and advertised against by specific sponsors, this changes the relationship and brings sponsor and “news” closer than ever.  “And what does that reality mean if the long-term business model of Instant Articles for media companies is centered primarily around sponsored content?” asks Cillizza.  Good question.  To me, the answer doesn’t sound like it leads to greater transparency about anything.

“Friends” and Politics

This article by Ann Friedman for New York Magazine begins by focusing on the presidential candidacy of Hillary Clinton as a polarizing force, even among likely political allies.  But Friedman’s point isn’t politics per se, it’s friendship.  Specifically, she offers thoughts on the effect Facebook might have on friendships once politics enters the equation.  And it seems to me that politics always enters the equation — certainly far more often on social media than it typically does in face-to-face social interactions.  In many real life situations (e.g. the work environment), I think we still adhere to the old rule that says, “Don’t discuss religion or politics in polite company.” But on Facebook, Man, we just have at it, don’t we?  And to Friedman’s point, friends with whom we assume a political alliance will invariably reveal some annoying heterodoxy that not only disappoints but even produces rancor that might never have revealed itself without this platform.

Friedman reminds me that I’ve wondered for some time about the effect of Facebook on friendships and family relationships.  When my wife and I first joined the network, it was particularly fun because we’re both alumni of the same, small, slightly dysfunctional college with a gaggle of friends who are like extended family to us. We splurged on an instantaneous connecting spree, exciting as a scavenger hunt, unearthing friends we hadn’t seen or spoken to in more than a decade. It was great. At first. But after the initial rush wore off, Facebook felt a little bit like the school reunion that wouldn’t end or like having a hundred house guests who wouldn’t go home.  A brief period of recalibrating the role of this new social environment in our lives was necessary.

When it comes to friends and politics, we don’t traditionally relate to one another by first standing on soap boxes and affirming some strongly held belief. Imagine showing up to a party carrying a big poster of Hillary Clinton with words printed on it saying “Unfriend me now if you don’t support this woman for President.” Then, everyone in the room can align themselves, start squabbling, and eventually disintegrate into schisms within both the pro and the anti-Hillary sides. This is not only a total buzzkill for the party host, but is also amusingly futile considering the only tangible action any individual in the room can really take is a single vote in one direction or the other for the candidate.  No, we don’t generally behave like this in real life, but it’s more or less how things go down on Facebook. And maybe that’s a good thing.

Let’s face it, the evil geniuses who invented this country have got to be grinning from on high and laying round-the-clock bets while watching the intellectual cage match they created. America is custom-designed to foster argument, so maybe the tech-utopian view that platforms like Facebook are a positive extension of that principle is correct. If these forums are used to truly engage in discussion, then maybe it’s better to see our friends reveal more diversity in their politics, even if discovering one another’s peccadillos might lead to chilling relationships.  On the other hand, those evil geniuses also designed a republic that was meant to move rather slowly on policy because in that stateliness is relative stability. By contrast, social media engagement tends to fuel radical (meaning spontaneous not subversive) and fleeting reaction.

For whatever reason (and I suspect it’s mostly due to the fact that social media is designed for sharing things other people say), political chatter is not only more common online than it has been in pre-cyber social environments, but it is absolutely dominant if my own feed is any indication. Nearly all of my friends are left leaning; and I would say that a significant amount of the political stories that make it into my newsfeed contain headlines about something radical that was reportedly said or done by someone on the extreme right.  “Gay Marriage Will Destroy Migratory Patterns of Bald Eagle,” says Indiana pastor.  And you just should not click on that stuff because if American politics teaches you anything, it’s that you gotta take the long view and not get distracted by every heckler in the cheap seats.

Yet, thanks to these platforms, we are treated to quite a few of these little stories that would otherwise go unnoticed beyond the reach of local papers. Sometimes they’re compelling human-interest articles; but in terms of real politics, I think an apparent deluge of crazy stuff can make one’s personal views feel under siege even if they are not. For instance, same-sex marriage rights are actually moving at a pretty remarkable pace toward universal ratification compared to other hard-won civil rights in American history.  And so in this example, I often wonder in what way the cause is benefitted when friends amplify the litany of lunatics on the issue. Because I don’t think even Justice Scalia is likely to weigh his decision thinking, “Well, I was on the fence about the ol’ gay marriage, but when I heard Pastor McDumbass say that thing about the locusts and frogs, that was the clincher for me.”

On a more grim note, I think about these troubling events in Ferguson, New York, and Baltimore; and I’m admittedly pretty cynical about the idea that social media offer much help with whatever it is may be happening to race relations in this country. This is partly because I believe there are dynamics at play that transcend race; thus any shorthand commentary that reduces everything to black and white (literally and figuratively) probably isn’t anywhere near discussing the true nature of the problem.  As these tragic events unfold, Facebook and Twitter offer various bandwagons for us to climb aboard, but heading where exactly? And yes, plenty of thoughtful articles are written and shared, and that’s a good thing.  But in the opposite extreme, the wrong-headed, violent responses are also inseminated and spread through social media in ways that are unique to our times.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the vague middle ground of all this, contemporary white college kids, gazing at screens in the safety of their dorms, post memes about Kent State because they don’t know what they’re talking about and because it’s easier to click on some fleeting image from an event that happened 50 years ago than it is to delve into what might really be going on today. And hell yes black lives matter, but I can’t help but find the hashtag itself just too damn trivial relative to the gravity of the situation. Or am I alone in thinking that so much of this new form of engagement feels so fundamentally unengaged?

It’s an odd dynamic to me. I can sit here in the relative security of my role as a white, middle-class, straight, male and spend half a day clicking things on Facebook that say let my gay friends marry and let my black friends live their lives without harassment by the police (these are just current examples), and I can feel good about my clicking and sharing despite the fact that it’s almost entirely useless. Because what will matter is who’s the mayor in a city or the police chief or who the Supreme Court Justices are. Policy will matter, which means what will matter above all is the economy. Meanwhile, statistics and anecdotal evidence suggests that the college kid who naively shared the Kent State meme might not even bother to vote because he thinks representative government is poisonous and the Internet is the antidote.

Ann Friedman concludes her article with advice as to how one might behave with friends online when politically-fueled disagreement flares up.   “It’s hard to imagine saying to a friend, ‘If you disagree with me, you can just hang up the phone right now.’ That’s not how real-life friends do things,” she writes.  I agree with her of course.  As with the example of a vote yay or nay for a candidate, does it really matter if a friend has some quirky reason for liking or not liking said candidate?  In many ways, social media environments like Facebook really are a new kind of petri dish for conducting that great experiment called America — always trying to see just how much we can fight and still remain friends.