Podcast: Talking NFTs and Grift with Neil Turkewitz & David Lowery


In this episode, I talk to artists’ rights activists Neil Turkewitz and David Lowery about the scope and nature of fraud in the NFT trade–and why NFTs are yet another false promise to help independent artists in the digital age. 

Read Neil Turkewitz’s interview with artist bor, a member of the activist group @NFTTheft, and read his follow-up piece about the scope of fraud on the site OpenSea.

Read David Lowery’s post about the HitPiece NFT ripoff. 

Read Aaron Moss’s post about HitPiece at CopyrightLately.

Check out Molly White’s blog Web3 is going just great.

And because it came up in discussion, one Cambridge University study finds that mining Bitcoin uses 121.36 terrawatt-hours per year–or more than the nation of Argentina.

Jonathan Mann weighs in.

Photo source by: inmicco

The Metaverse: Let Us Now Suck in Three Dimensions

In the first Matrix movie, the character Cypher announces that he wants to be plugged back into the network. A few scenes later, we see him dining at a fine restaurant, fully aware that everything he is experiencing is a simulation, and he doesn’t care. The question presented by this sequence is an ontological crossroads at which we now seem to be standing—where reality looks increasingly perilous and the architects of the metaverse promise to build an enticing portal through which we can escape that reality. Cypher is who the Matrix tempted us to be twenty years ago, and Zuckerberg and Co. are betting that Cypher is who we are now.

The events of recent years are so eerily conducive to a Matrix-like authoritarianism, that one can almost imagine an AI softening the ground for its eventual dominion. Democracies are in peril. Pandemic intensifies our dependence on networked systems. Climate disasters wipe out homes and businesses with brutal indifference to politics. The elite accelerate environmental destruction, trading crypto and buying virtual real estate to build virtual galleries to display their NFT art. Designers and top brand managers talk without irony about selling virtual clothing and footwear and accessories so people can skin their avatars in meta spaces. Meanwhile, the social media executives, have shrugged off their role in fostering so much damage in the real world, pivoted, rebranded, and moved onto designing the new Zion. Facebook even runs TV ads that invite children to enter an Eden in the style of Henri Rousseau.

And what the hell? Cypher might ask. We’re already in our pajamas and plugged in more than ever. How unnatural will it feel to make the transition to VR gatherings among friends and family and business colleagues, and then, eventually, walk through that door to a seemingly better world? Of course, if social media is the prelude to the metaverse, better is a relative term.

My cynical response to the prospect of flying cars has always been that if people already suck at driving in two dimensions, adding the Y-Axis seems like folly. Likewise, we have barely addressed the myriad problems caused by people staring at flat planes of text and images, yet the tech bros and VCs think it’s time for us to enter a more immersive funhouse. To quote the title of a recent article on Grid, “The metaverse is everything you hate about the internet, strapped to your face.”

It is no surprise, of course, that the article written by Benjamin Powers cites incidents of sexual harassment of women in virtual 3D environments. He quotes tech researcher Nina Jane Patel, who writes in her own post on Medium:

I recently shared my experience of sexual harassment in Facebook/Meta’s Venues. Within 60 seconds of joining — I was verbally and sexually harassed — 3–4 male avatars, with male voices, essentially, but virtually gang raped my avatar and took photos — as I tried to get away they yelled — “don’t pretend you didn’t love it” and “go rub yourself off to the photo”.

If one is tempted to say, “But it isn’t real,” read Aubrey Hirsch’s excellent essay describing the harrowing intersection between virtual and physical harassment in the present two-dimensional paradigm. Then, add the Proteus effect, which Patel describes thus:

The Proteus effect is the tendency for people to be affected by their digital representations, such as avatars, dating site profiles and social networking personas. Typically, people’s behaviour shifts in accordance with their digital representatives.

In many instances, it is clear that the human psyche can barely handle the emotional impact of a meme. So, anyone who claims that avatar assault in virtual space is “just a game” is either naïve or lying. The experience for both the assaulted and the assailant is likely to have psychological effects on the real human—the former experiencing trauma and the latter experiencing the dark thrill (or perhaps revulsion) of engaging in a violent crime without consequence. “I’m really concerned that you’re just going to get all the problems that you’ve got with social media but now amplified,” Mary Anne Franks told Powers for his article.

Dr. Franks is among the legal scholars who have shaped nonconsensual pornography and internet harassment laws in several states. Her organization Cyber Civil Rights Initiative (CCRI) is about a decade old, which is roughly how long it has taken to move the legislative boulder uphill just to address the crime of revenge porn. And harmful as that conduct is, it may be a simple legal matter in contrast to the new frontiers for harassment that will be opened in the metaverse.

More than a new opportunity for criminal activity, which we can expect to be as ably mitigated by the platforms as we have seen so far, the Proteus effect inherent to the metaverse can only exacerbate the alternative reality problem now plaguing democracies around the world. It is ironic that QAnon and other conspiracy loons have borrowed the expression “red pilling” from the Matrix to describe their aberrant awakenings. The ego wants to believe it is Morpheus, which is an underlying gestalt in that movie. There may be any number of Morpheuses fighting any number of simulated rebellions. And in our proto-Matrix world, isn’t this more or less what is happening? And does the metaverse not promise new ways to fulfill every quixotic fantasy?

Do we think somebody will not build the January 6th Legitimate Political Discourse Experience? You missed it you say? Well, now, you can relive that glorious day and be part of the action! Crush a police officer in a door. Take a pee on Nancy Pelosi’s desk. Free babies from the secret adrenochrome labs underneath the Library of Congress. And so much more! (In app purchases.)

The virtual wasteland populated by conspiracy-wielding nomads is a consequence the utopian architects of the current social environments got wrong—or lied about. Of course, it was going to be easier (and therefore lucrative) to connect and addict people to a matrix of insane narratives than to fulfill that stodgy aspiration called the “exchange of ideas.” The tech bros and digital rights groups still talk about the internet as if it were an intellectual symposium, but Spotify isn’t stumbling over controversy involving a Neil deGrasse Tyson podcast, is it?

Although the metaverse expedition could go the way of Google Glass, it seems likely that some version of a universal VR, other than gamer worlds like Fortnite, will be adopted by tens of millions. And depending on the architecture, it is possible to imagine how the metaverse might offer a very tempting escape from a world that often looks like it is unravelling. If past is prologue, the more addictive the virtual experience, the more it will affect behavior in physical space; and so far, those results have been so disastrous that any reasonable person might feel exactly like Cypher.


Photo by: garrykillian

No, the Maus Ban is Not an Excuse to Weaken Copyright

Naturally, I join the outrage directed at any school board that would presume to ban a book—let alone because they don’t want students to confront the traumas of history—but I am almost as offended by the self-proclaimed defenders of culture in the anti-copyright crowd. How dare the McMinn County Board of Education ban Maus? But at the same time, how dare anyone write this?

Really? The survival of culture depends on libraries owning ebooks?

Yes, the tweet was posted by the same Maria Bustillos who inspired my last post about the library associations’ anti-copyright agenda, and I certainly do not mean to pick on her alone. On the contrary, I wouldn’t bother with that tweet if its fallacies were not endemic among organizations with the power to lobby legislatures. It is a sentiment within a hubristic narrative which asserts that, if not for copyright getting in the way, digital repositories like libraries would keep culture burning like a flame amid the forces of darkness. More specifically, Bustillos et al ask us to believe that libraries owning, rather than licensing, ebooks would serve as a hedge against censorship. But how?

If the Tennessee school board, and other officials who behave likewise, are indeed riding a wave of illiteracy toward authoritarianism, it is certain that those forces will not leave the libraries intact either. Moreover, if that is where we are headed as a nation (and there days we all wonder), forget the ebooks and prepare for civil war. But if that dire outcome is not what we are talking about, and we are instead witnessing just another sad example in a long history of bumbling, mouth-breathing attempts to ban books, then we can temper the “protect culture” language because it looks like the “evil” commercial market has got this one.

I admit it has been satisfying to watch the sentiment in that tweet wither in the sunlight of Maus topping best-seller lists in response to the Tennessee school board ban. Whether this groundswell is borne of curiosity to read a banned book or a desire to raise a middle finger at the censors (doubtless it is both), the entire narrative is an endorsement, not an indictment, of Art Spiegelman’s copyright rights. After the assault on the Capitol, I wrote a post reaffirming a claim I had made in 2013 that “A great bulwark against tyranny would be a class of unusually wealthy poets.” In principle, the consumer response to the Maus ban is exactly what I had in mind.

Libraries are wonderful institutions, but enemies of culture have a habit of burning them down. Or in the case of America’s public libraries, they can simply defund them as easily as they remove books from school curricula. Ebook collections in libraries are not a bulwark against that kind of wanton destruction, but empowering authors and artists with certain property rights in their work and, yes, money remains a powerful mechanism for keeping the philistines at bay.