Tag: politics

Too Much Democracy Can Kill Democracy: Social Media as a WMD

democracy

It may be true that “democracy dies in darkness,” but it can also be wiped out in blinding light. If Donald Trump is reelected, it will have been 20 years after the launch of Facebook and 18 years after the launch of Twitter—less than one generation for the “greatest invention for democracy” to be the proximate cause of the death of democracy.

When I started writing this blog in 2012, the 5th of November was celebrated by internet defenders who seemed to think that Guy Fawkes of the English Powder Plot of 1605 was a rebel and a hero. This fallacy was based on conflating history with the graphic novel and movie V for Vendetta, whose tyranny-fighting protagonist wears a “Guy Fawkes” mask, which became the symbol of hackers calling themselves Anonymous. Then, by extension, the mask became a symbol of advocating John Perry Barlow’s idealistic notion of the morally superior, purely democratic internet against the anachronistic laws of “weary” republics.

Of course, the real Guido Fawkes had more in common with the January 6th insurrectionists than any champions of democracy. The intent of the Powder Plot, led by Robert Catesby, was to restore the authority of the Catholic Church, which would have killed the nascent progress of republicanism in England. In this light, the plot was one of many forebears to American Christian nationalists, eager to have Trump blow up the secular administrative state the same way Fawkes & Friends were supposed to blow up Parliament and the Protestant monarch in one move.

As often happens in history, the catastrophe of the Powder Plot was averted by individuals listening to their own better angels. Uncomfortable with killing any Catholic members of Parliament, the conspirators sent an anonymous letter to Lord Monteagle, who dutifully reported the plan. Thus, Fawkes was found in the cellar waiting for the signal to light the 36 barrels of gunpowder, which would have indeed blasted all of Parliament, King James I, and the king’s family into the River Thames. How this conflagration might have altered the course of American history—and, therefore, democracy in general, is impossible to know, but it is doubtful that the Puritan adventure beginning in 1620 would have transpired in the same way, if it happened at all.[1]

In contrast to gunpowder, social media is an insidious weapon that erodes the foundations of republicanism from the virtual cellar occupied by our lesser angels—steadily degrading not just truth, but the value of truth.[2] This was not every platform founder’s intent, of course. Jack Dorsey appears to have had a late-stage realization of the damage Twitter could cause, but it is not at all surprising that under the control of Elon Musk, the rebranded X does not even pretend to “beg forgiveness” for its manipulations of reality.

The architects of the American Constitution and leaders of the Federalist cause understood that direct democracy was synonymous with chaos. When they used the word democracy, it was almost pejorative, referring to a heedless mob that might swallow the pursuit of “ordered justice.” In short (and with the possible exception of Jefferson), they recognized that too much democracy would be fatal to sustainable democracy, but this is exactly what social media has fostered—a form of direct democracy undermining a collaborative understanding of the American experiment.

Even if Trump loses, the project of restoring the cultural foundations of the American Republic will be far from over. As author and journalist Sebastian Junger said at a conference I recently attended, the project is generational—one that must begin now to benefit our grandchildren. Hosted by the Hannah Arendt Center (HAC) at Bard College, Junger was one of several speakers who offered a critique of the Left from within the Left—exemplifying the kind of discussion I believe is essential, but which social media makes nearly impossible. In fact, Junger specifically blasted “the phones,” focusing primarily on their addictive qualities, but clearly in regard to platforms creating and exacerbating political divisions.

That discussion on the Left will only happen if Trump loses. If he wins, chaos will ensue followed by reactions to that chaos, and it will be hard not to shrug at, or even endorse, extreme reactions. After all, Trump promises violence and fascism, which will spark violent responses that are both natural and justified. But if that nightmare is not our fate, then the project of saving democracy from latent authoritarianism will require the work of Liberals and Conservatives, who must confront the fact that social media has been the indispensable catalyst in reshaping a concept of America that would tolerate, let alone almost elect, a manifestly dangerous individual to be President.

Sustaining any republic requires policy that fosters reasoned compromise behind the theater of politics, but thanks to the free soapboxes in every citizen’s hand, all policy is now political, and all politics are now performative. Social media softened the ground to create the ideal landscape for a populist charlatan to rise to power despite (or even because of) his open hostility for the Constitutional order. But Trump’s supporters are not alone in abandoning that faith.

Even before the revelations of 2016 that data gathered from modest online activity could be weaponized to engineer political outcomes around the world, it was clear that the narcissism inherent to using social platforms provoked acute, often poorly articulated, outrage—including responses to rumor and conspiracy with no foundation in fact. That folly is not unique to any ideology or political party because it is a psychological relationship to the medium itself that we are far from resolving.

Then, with the addition of powerful actors who control the data and algorithms, a significant, albeit hard to measure, number of world-shaping events have been triggered by what amounts to online pranks. Even the most ambitious and most powerful democracy ever invented has been punked to the edge of extinction by the dark arts of internet trolls. All those tech boosters who claimed there was a wall of separation between adolescent cyberspace and adult real life were simply wrong.

Social Media Platforms Are Narcissism Machines

By coincidence, I recently met one of the student fellows at HAC, who is visiting Bard from Ukraine and studying human rights. Noting that there will not be another election in her country unless and until they win the war with Russia, she referred to a frustration with her contemporaries, who as young Americans, do not intend to vote this week. I asked if those students offered reasons for their reluctance, and she told me the two main explanations that came to mind were 1) that the outcome didn’t really matter; or 2) that if the candidate they vote for “let’s them down,” they will feel guilty about having cast the vote.

The first sentiment that voting doesn’t matter is a familiar cynicism of youth. But what the second sentiment implies is a heightened degree of narcissism that I believe is fair to associate with the digital-native generations. The notion that any President could be perfect in the administration of that unfathomable office suggests first, a childlike innocence about human beings and the complexly dangerous world we occupy; and second, an arrogance that one’s own idea of “perfection” is well founded. This is an astoundingly naive way to evaluate the mere mortals we might elect to be President of the United States, though it is consistent with the kind of “purity-test” mentality that shapes the rhetoric of the digital-native generations.

The phenomenon is observable in real-time because social platforms are venues where political allies become irreconcilable antagonists the moment a member of the tribe dares to criticize the tribe’s thinking or conduct. The critic becomes the apostate, earning herself at least a virtual, if not a literal, stoning. Examples abound, but in this moment, I am thinking specifically of progressive activist Brianna Wu, who has the integrity to criticize the extremism, antisemitism, and ahistorical narratives animating many anti-Israel protestors and, consequently, is bombarded by personal attacks and death threats from people who consider themselves liberal or “progressive.”

Those responses, like many of the protests themselves, are narcissistic and performative. The American Liberal repeating the mantra “settler colonialism” is barely distinguishable from the Conservative who claims that Christianity is under attack in the U.S. There is no intellectual, let alone moral, difference between the Right’s generic attacks on DEI and the Left’s attacks on Jews in academia and in their private lives. But again, the common denominator is social media, designed and managed to stoke, promote, and reward righteous outrage, not discourse.

Unfortunately, social media draws everyone into its gutter. While I believe that a figure like Trump could never have obtained political power without the insane environment of these platforms, even rational opposition cannot afford to cede the alligator pit as a battlefield. Although Harris, other candidates, and brave Conservative apostates do not engage in the outlandish, incoherent, and fascistic messaging exhibited by Trump, merely fighting fire with fire on social platforms demands a juvenile and sad derivative of the discourse that wrote the nation into existence. It is a meager dividend from our investment in the “greatest tool for democracy ever invented.”

Waiting to find out whether Trump will be reelected is like waiting to learn whether the nation has Stage IV cancer. Everything is on hold while millions of Americans ask the same question, albeit from different perspectives:  are we at the brink of civil war? In this regard, there are not two sides. Specific policies notwithstanding, Harris means a continuation of the American experiment and the possibility that we can at least try to have difficult conversations on both the Left and Right. Trump means chaos and who the hell knows what comes next? If we manage to dodge the bullet, maybe, just maybe, we can admit that social media was the gun that fired it.

[1] Civil unrest would likely have ensued, but if Rome were indeed reinstated, it’s entirely possible that anti-Catholics like John Winthrop would have been executed rather than allowed to establish New England.

[2] It is not only Trumpians who are immune to counterfactuals in their world view, and although social media does not cause this human frailty, it does exacerbate it.

Image: N. Currier. (1846) Destruction of tea at Boston Harbor. , 1846. [New York: N. Currier] [Photograph] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/91795889/.

So Much Section 230 Noise, So Little Time to Waste

Just a few years ago, it would have been damn hard to find a random citizen who had even heard of Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act of 1996. Now, this bit of wonky, statutory arcana is a topic buzzing on mainstream news, chirping in the Twitterverse, opining in the blogosphere, and echoing through all those extra dimensions where people gather in cyberspace. 230 will probably be Thanksgiving talk this year—I hope in small gatherings observing safe protocols—but all this attention does not mean that understanding the law, or its real problems, will be greatly improved.

For starters, Section 230 is only on the national radar because it has been politicized in a way that is both preposterous and tragic. The preposterous begins with Donald Trump and several vocal members of the GOP accusing the major platforms of partisan bias and censorship. Consequently, certain Republican Members of Congress have dangled the threat of repealing or amending the immunity from civil litigation that Section 230 currently provides to web platforms.

The political bias allegation is absurd and dangerous because it rests on the presumption that “conservative” now encompasses blatant disinformation, conspiracy theory, and organized hate groups that the major platforms have finally felt obliged to remove or mute. Trump and his most ardent fans endorse these negative forces, which is one reason why so many real conservatives, for the first time in their lives, are voting for the Democratic ticket this year.

As I’ve said before, rescuing intelligent and informed conservatism from the Trump wrecking ball is going to be a hell of a challenge for the GOP. But as part of that unenviable task, the putative leaders of the party’s renaissance could demonstrate some leadership in the §230 dustup by articulating some clear distinctions as to what has truly gone awry with the law, and acknowledge that addressing the legitimate concerns requires bipartisan cooperation. And that brings us to the tragic part.

Congress Should Focus on the Real Harm Being Done

Some of the very real victims of §230 (or more accurately, overbroad interpretation of the statute by the courts) are individual citizens—usually women and girls—who have their lives, careers, and relationships threatened or destroyed by the relatively novel and insidious forms of harassment conducted via online intermediaries.

The most obvious example is commonly referred to as revenge porn, whereby somebody with a gripe (e.g. an ex-boyfriend) is in possession of nude or sexually explicit material that he posts online, including websites specifically designed to host revenge content so that users can engage in an exchange of ideas like, “Yeah, somebody rape that bitch!” This is the kind of depravity §230 was written to prevent, not protect. But more on that below.

Revenge porn is more properly called nonconsensual pornography—first, because revenge is not always the motive, and second because motive does not actually matter. It’s the nonconsensual part that makes the act criminal, and the consequences for many of the victims of this crime do not end at embarrassment. As with all aspects of life in the digital age, what happens in cyberspace has real-world results, and this type of harassment leads to death and rape threats, attempted and actual assaults, job loss and forced relocations, and damaged relationships with friends and family.

It is no exaggeration to say that the psychological effects of one or all of these events can be so traumatic that people have been hounded to suicide by remote control. And with the addition of the technology known as deepfakes, an assailant no longer needs to possess explicit material. With just a photograph of a face, anyone’s sister, daughter, wife, or girlfriend can be seamlessly featured in a pornographic scene, or any other compromising event for which she was never present.

What Section 230 Actually Says …

Too often, Section 230 is described as a blanket immunity from civil liability for online service providers full stop. This is incorrect. Occasionally, it is summarized as immunity from liability for potentially harmful material posted by users. This is correct but only part of the statute. What Section 230 also says is that when a platform exercises editorial control in order to remove or mitigate material that “the provider or user considers to be obscene, lewd, lascivious, filthy, excessively violent, harassing, or otherwise objectionable, whether or not such material is constitutionally protected,” this act of moderation does not inherently render the platform a “publisher” such that it becomes subject to liability in civil litigation for potentially harmful material posted by users.

It’s a mouthful and it’s nuanced, which is why §230 is so often misrepresented. But simply put, the statute known the “Good Samaritan” clause was written in 1996 to encourage platform operators to moderate the aforementioned objectionable material. But for nearly 20 years, the internet industry, with the help of judicial error, has promoted a misreading of the statute to assert that online service providers bear no obligation to moderate anything ever.

Also, this must be stressed again and again:  the absence of the §230 shield does not automatically make a platform liable for harm in a civil litigation. A plaintiff still has to make her case like any other claim. Removal of the shield simply means that the platform cannot instantly, without further consideration by the court, dismiss a claim at summary judgment. This has happened numerous times in circumstances where most reasonable people would find that the victim had the right to pursue justice.

Section 230 Overreach

For years, the internet industry inverted the narrative about Section 230, often citing the liability shield as a reason to continue hosting any material—even material that would be illegal in other contexts—and the courts have almost unanimously agreed that this is the correct interpretation of the statute. Consequently, the job before Congress, or the Supreme Court, is not necessarily to repeal §230, or even to drastically amend it, but to clearly articulate that it was not written to shield harmful conduct.

In an October 13 opinion pursuant to the Supreme Court’s denying cert in a recent §230 case, Justice Thomas explained why he believes the Court should, when the right case is presented, take up the issue of textually incoherent interpretations of the statute. For instance, citing a case from 2003, Thomas writes:

Under this interpretation, a company can solicit thou­sands of potentially defamatory statements, “selec[t] and edi[t] . . . for publication” several of those statements, add commentary, and then feature the final product promi­nently over other submissions—all while enjoying immun­ity. (Citations omitted)

One could, for political purposes, apply this opinion to criticize Twitter for placing a warning label on a presidential tweet that contains hazardous misinformation about, say, a deadly virus. And that is more or less where some Republican Members of Congress have tried to lead this discussion—that even a public safety editorial decision made by a social platform should void its immunity. But this would be wholly inconsistent with Congress’s intent in 1996 and a grossly negligent failure to serve those parties who suffer real harm from the courts’ misinterpretations as described by Justice Thomas.

Instead, Justice Thomas’s observation should be applied where platform operators either intentionally, negligently, or through willful blindness, traffic in content that is clearly designed to cause harm though libel, nonconsensual pornography, organized harassment, or (yes) misinformation that poses a danger to the public. I know that last one is prickly at the moment, but we used to be generally on the same side in such matters and will need to get there again, or Section 230 will be the least of our worries.

Hoist by Their Own Petard

The internet industry spent a lot of PR capital entangling 230 with misstatements about its obligations under the First Amendment to leave all content alone, which was and remains constitutional hogwash. Thus, to a great extent, the platforms’ own rhetoric has played into those members of the GOP who now accuse them of censorship. For years, the industry and its network of “digital rights” activists—the EFF, Techdirt, the ACLU, Public Knowledge, et al—cried censorship at every argument for moderation of even the worst material. And the public, regardless of politics, largely accepted this narrative based on the fallacy that more speech is the antidote to bad speech.

For nearly two decades, it was easy for the platforms to sweep a million sins under the “free speech” rug until the moment those sins crept into the realm of public policy. Trump becomes President, and suddenly, online content that any reasonable person could find objectionable under the textual meaning of 230 was being posted as official statements by the highest office in government. And presently, more than any other issue, the White House’s irrational conflict with infectious disease experts in the middle of a pandemic highlights the nature of the problem the platforms were creating for themselves—and for all of us.

I sincerely hope, in the broadest sense, for a return to normal in this country. I do not expect to see a Republican Reign of Terror at the polls, though I do think the party has some soul searching to do, and a timeout wouldn’t hurt. But most of the Section 230 noise being made by that party is just another side show in a carnival that many of its own members are sick of attending. And it’s a damn shame because there are real Americans, some of them fourteen-year-old girls, who could use a little help from a legislature acting in good faith.

I hope the next generation of conservative leaders will join their colleagues across the aisle and agree that Congress never intended for the “Good Samaritan” clause to shield harmful parties and their abettors from remedies pursued by the victims. We might all remember that the middle word in the CDA is Decency—a virtue the internet seems remarkably effective at destroying.

Some People Will Say Anything to Hurt Creators

You know how it’s offensive when a certain president uses a trope like “Do Nothing Democrats” to sling mud in lieu of articulating some kind of coherent, let alone moral, policy on any issue? Well, this same tactic is even more offensive when it’s used by people who should know better, especially people who believe they’re standing up for something. I try not to get personal about some of the copyright arguments, but this time it’s impossible. Mike Masnick is full of shit. And he should know better. In fact, I suspect he does know better.

Masnick doesn’t like copyright. Fine. Whatever. If he wants to advocate for the status quo of the DMCA, let him make a merit-based argument. Instead, his latest post criticizing congressional review of the DMCA (which began in February), he uses America’s overlapping, heartbreaking crises, and divisive politics, to justify this title:

In The Midst Of A Pandemic And Widespread Unrest, Senate Republicans Think It’s Time To Use Copyright To Make The Richest Musicians Richer

Perfect. That is ideally designed to generate maximum social media virality and teeth-gritting outrage. Except for one tiny problem: it ain’t true. For one thing, DMCA review is just one of many bipartisan, legislative processes, already underway, that were slowed but not entirely stopped by the pandemic. Next, and more importantly, it is not Republicans who suddenly put this on the agenda ahead of more pressing matters. Republican Senator Tillis is leading the Senate Judiciary Committee DMCA review, but in collaboration with Democrats you might know like Senators Coons and Leahy. They both support copyright and creators, but why mention that in a time when we can sow more discord?

Believe me, I’m pissed at Republicans right now for a whole lot of things. But that does not excuse Masnick, or anyone else, for trying to frame a solidly bipartisan issue as a “Republican” agenda, let alone to use national tragedies as a smokescreen. But in this case, Masnick tore a big ol’ page from the Trumpian playbook and led off his post by citing a statement of Senator McConnell’s from two weeks ago, when he said that he didn’t any see urgency in responding to the pandemic. Now, I would not give Mitch McConnell the time of day, but that statement is only connected to DMCA review in Masnick’s imagination. Only that isn’t even true. Mike isn’t stupid. He knows exactly what he’s doing and why it’s effective. And it’s immoral.

By a similar sleight of hand, Masnick wants everyone to feel that it’s wrong that Don Henley of the Eagles is set to testify tomorrow. He writes, “…this is the same Don Henley who has been attacking the internet for at least a decade, when he whined that it was all copyright infringement that anyone might take any of his songs and build on it in doing a remix or a mashup.”

Again. Masnick should feel free to articulate why he thinks Henley’s views are incorrect and why he thinks he shouldn’t be testifying, but he doesn’t do that. It’s just more personality politics because that’s what we need more of right now.  And let’s not pretend that if a less well-known singer/songwriter had the same set of issues with YouTube (and they do!) that Masnick would give those complaints any more consideration.

Two days ago, I said I was concerned that Silicon Valley, and its network of well-financed mouthpieces, would leverage Trump’s fight with Twitter to push back on any proposed review of the liability shields enjoyed by internet platforms. Well, interestingly enough, Section 512 of the DMCA is another liability shield Silicon Valley will fight tooth-and-nail to keep intact (as though it was perfect in 1998). It’s the part of the DMCA that nearly all rightsholders do not like about the current application of the law—especially creators who are way smaller than Don Henley. And unless I miss my guess, based on some of the comments appearing on Twitter, and a Washington Post article that’s basically a longer version of Masnick’s post, this is looking a bit like a coordinated effort to stymie DMCA review by framing it as a “Republican” initiative in a time when that message just might work.

In truth, the protection of copyright has long enjoyed bipartisan support in Congress, even before there was a Congress! So, let’s get in a lather about some other issues. We have plenty. At the same time, I might point out that the shoe doesn’t look so good on the other foot. In a time of pandemic and gut-wrenching scenes in our city streets, Silicon Valley’s minions want to make sure that Google & Co. get to keep screwing over artists and creators? Nice.