Tag: Trump

On the Post Hoc Deplatforming of Trump

I guess this is the digital-age equivalent of defenestration:  rather than an authoritarian getting thrown out a window, he gets thrown off Twitter. And now that the major platforms have closed the proverbial barn door while the cows run amok on Pennsylvania Avenue, calling the decision to deplatform Trump too little too late is itself saying far too little, and way too late.

On December 31, 2016, I published a post asking whether Americans might begin to doubt the extravagant premise that the internet as we know it is a gift to democracy. To an extent, the answer to that question was yes. Over the past four years, we did see at least a new willingness to criticize Silicon Valley; and at the same time, that industry’s ability to thwart every policy initiative with the over-broad message that “the internet would break” proved as futile as it is fallacious. 

That it took a violent, seditious* assault on the Capitol to slap at least some of Trump’s enablers into reality is dismaying to say the least, and many of those enablers should not—and very possibly will not—be forgiven. But we should also not be quick to absolve the corporate enablers at Twitter, Facebook, et al, or their well-financed network of shills who so earnestly promoted the notions that all content online is tantamount to protected speech, that the free exchange of all views is inherently a net positive, and that the good will outweigh the bad as long as we remove all barriers to informative and cultural material.

Long before Trump announced his candidacy, the political landscape had been well-softened by the illusion that social platforms provide better transparency, and Trump’s incipient cult was not unique in believing that “new media” were providing access to a truth that the gatekeepers of the “old media” were hiding. At the same time, social platforms are uniquely designed to feed that egotist in us that craves the dopamine hit generally referred to as confirmation bias.  

The tech-utopians truly believed (and apparently still do) that a more enlightened, more civilized world is the inexorable outcome of more access to more information. When some of us countered that internet platforms seem to be highly effective at spreading disinformation and other toxic content, we were called luddites who hate progress and technology. We were told that we wanted to stop a new enlightenment in which “the whole store of human knowledge would be at everyone’s fingertips.”

It should not have been so easy for a president, or any individual, to insinuate that the entire intel community is a corrupt “deep state” or that election officials are liars or that over 60 courts, including the Supreme Court, willfully ignored fraud in the 2020 election. Those conclusions insist that not one of the tens of thousands of oath-taking public servants implicated can be trusted over the word of one man or the conspiratorial ravings of some profiteering opportunists on the internet.

We must acknowledge that Facebook, Twitter, Google, Amazon, Reddit et al have been the category killers in the business of that profiteering opportunism. If one feels suddenly inclined to straighten out a Trump defender on the First Amendment, remember that it was these corporations, with the assistance of the EFF, Techdirt, Public Knowledge, the ACLU and others, all asserting for many years that almost everything posted online should be treated with the deference of protected speech. Whether militance on this matter is ideological or simple greed, it is a premise that must be rejected as false for our own good. David Golumbia, associate professor of digital studies, wrote recently for the Boston Globe:

As a small group of scholars and activists are arguing with increasing force,…it is manifestly possible to protect free speech — and thus enhance the political and democratic values free speech is meant to promote — while suppressing, or at least not actively encouraging, the efforts of those who want to turn democracies against themselves.

And if we grasp that protections on speech really exist to enhance democratic participation, then it’s easier to see through the claims that digital products such as Bitcoin or Apple’s computer code count as speech. In other words, we’d see that a lot of cries for “freedom of speech” in the Internet era are really just demands for freedom from regulations that wouldn’t be challenged in the offline world.

So, by all means, Senators Hawley and Cruz, and any elected official who lent credence to the stolen election story, should be held accountable for feeding a fire that exploded on January 6,and is probably not done exploding. But Big Tech executives and the “digital rights” groups have much to answer for as well. To a very great extent, Donald Trump merely exploited the systemic and psychological vulnerabilities that the major platforms had been exacerbating and monetizing for years.

The leaders of the internet industry have consistently spoken to the public in the ebullient language of new horizons, where fresh ideas and opportunities converge. But that was only part of the picture. While raking in billions, these companies willfully ignored or scornfully dismissed the fact that their systems and business models made few distinctions among information, misinformation, and disinformation. Instead, they papered over those dichotomies by citing the First Amendment to which they owed no duty whatsoever. So, yes, Trump and his supporters are dead wrong to call the sudden deplatforming an infringement of the speech right, but it was the internet companies themselves who fed them that lie in the first place.

*CORRECTION: This was originally published as “treasonous,” which is the wrong word.

Section 230 Review: Right Topic, Wrong Administration

I think Senator Blumenthal summed it up about right, as he was quoted in this week in the Wall Street Journal:

“I’ve certainly been one of Congress’ loudest critics of Section 230, but I have no interest in being an agent of Bill Barr’s speech police.”

In the post I wrote right after Trump threw a hissy fit because Twitter fact-checked him, I said that I have been worried about the platform responsibility narrative becoming grossly distorted by the nature of this administration. It’s no surprise that the laissez-faire policies of the major platforms, with regard to content moderation, were set on a collision course with America’s new reality-bending president.

As Trump’s unbridled contempt for facts, his tacit endorsements of hate groups, and his violations of core American principles morphed into official policy, it was inevitable that there would be a clash of conscience for at least some of Silicon Valley’s leaders and employees. They should have seen it coming but chose not to.

Instead, high on their own utopian, guardians-of-democracy rhetoric, and insulated by liability shields like 230, Big Tech refused even to consider how their grand experiment in speech absolutism, and the wisdom of crowds, might create a monster. So, when the beast finally broke out of the lab, they should hardly have been surprised that their futile efforts to contain it would only make it angry.

Of course Trump is demanding platform neutrality. Neutral is exactly what the platforms kept saying they were for years. Silicon Valley wants the platform liability shields left just as they are. And in defense of that status quo, they have long claimed, and largely maintained, a policy of “neutrality” with regard to user uploaded content. But this assertion, already dubious, became both untenable and dicey for Big Tech operators, when the worst abuser of their community standards became the federal government itself.

But let’s be honest. Most Americans, left, right, and center, agreed that neutral was the right gear for Facebook and Twitter et al. Never mind that neutrality is not the aim of Section 230. That’s just a pesky little detail about the law itself. But for years, Big Tech used the protection of 230 to justify “neutrality” and to evangelize that policy as allegedly protecting our speech rights. So, the maddening irony of the moment is that Trump is merely insisting upon the internet that everyone naively said they wanted — and many still say they want, even as the Republic seems to hang by a thread most days. So, stick that in your bong and burble it for a while.

There is no other way to frame the so-called political party conversation now. Anyone with a basic working knowledge of American civics and history knows that the current administration is neither Republican nor conservative by any reasonable definition of either of those terms. When Trump and his flock complain about “censorship of conservative views,” online, what they are referring to is moderation of potentially hazardous lies, conspiracy theories, incitements of violence, and hate speech. If those modalities are truly part of the Republican party’s new brand, we’re going to have a civil war of some kind, at which point there will be no need to worry about nuanced legislation like Section 230.

But as I said before, that’s a problem the Republicans will have to work out for themselves. They’ll have to decide, and soon, whether they are all-in on this cult of galloping ignorance, incompetence, and cruelty. Meanwhile, I see legitimate conservatives tweeting several times a day—and quite often to criticize Trump for what he has done to their party. Bill Kristol’s tweets aren’t being taken down, and last I checked, he’s pretty damned conservative.

In the meantime, what will unfortunately be obscured by all this noise are the very serious reasons why reasonable people of good faith seek amendment to the Section 230 liability shield. These include people like attorney Carrie Goldberg, whose Brooklyn law firm defends real victims of online exploitation and severe harassment, while the platforms enabling those crimes (even intentionally) remain shielded by Section 230. This is the kind of policy conversation we are supposed to be having. And we were having it, until Trump got involved.

It is a tragic irony that whiny old men put Section 230 on the table for their whiny old man purposes, when so many of the real citizens seeking reform happen to be (as usual) vulnerable women. For instance, after years of reasoned debate on ways to address revenge porn online, Senator Hawley introduced an amended bill, dated today, that does nothing for people who have suffered, or may suffer, real harm from the misapplication of Section 230. Instead, the Hawley bill is merely a reaction to claims of “politically biased moderation,” which is a euphemism for removing the toxic, conspiracy-laden bullshit spread by the current president. Because that’s where we are now.

Because many (if not all) of these new, reactionary proposals for 230 revision will seek to punish Silicon Valley for moderating the worst of Trump (and that’s saying something), it seems unlikely that any such legislation will make it through this Congress before the end of the year. By that time, if there is any hope left for America, this national nightmare will end, and the historians can get to work on the Bruegel-inspired pop-up books describing this era.

I have yet to review the June 2020 DOJ report on Section 230, and because that review started before this topic floated all the way onto Trump’s radar, it may contain some reasonable recommendations that go beyond political theater. We’ll see. But now that the 230 conversation has been subsumed by Trump’s personal beef with Silicon Valley, it’s just another side show in the circus. It would be nice if one day, sober heads can resume this important conversation. Now, all we need are some sober heads.

See also: Civil rights groups call for ‘pause’ on Facebook ads.

Is It Finally Time to Boycott Facebook?

It is impossible to look at the landscape of America, at this burning city on a hill, and not weep. Or scream.

Because this blog advocates the legal rights of creators (copyrights), and because those rights historically enjoy bipartisan support, I have tried to maintain a politically balanced tone when writing about most policy matters. That was a lot easier before Donald Trump became President. It is not my fault the Republican party is presently stuck with a leader about whom the kindest thing one can say is that he’s a moron. That’s a problem real conservatives and Republicans are going to have to work out for themselves. And if they don’t, these fires are not going to be extinguished for a very long time.

With regard to the broader editorial focus of this blog—the one that questions the value of the digital-age experiment and the industry behind it—it is now impossible to discuss that topic without placing Trump, and his supporters, squarely in the column of an unqualified evil—an enemy of humanity and republican democracy. Not that anyone would accuse me of being particularly kind about Trump in other posts, but today, there is a more acute question that needs to be asked:  if we want to end this dystopian circus of an administration, would it help to boycott Facebook? 

Ever since the 2016 election and revelations of data manipulation and fake news, we have been inundated by editorials opining as to what social media platforms should or should not do about various forms of toxic content on their sites. The utopian narrative that “all content is speech, and platforms owe a duty to the speech right” has been cracking under the weight of its own folly for three years, and it finally snapped last week when Twitter and Facebook took divergent paths on the matter of fact-checking the President.  

Apropos Trump’s largely-theatrical spat with Twitter and the toothless Executive Order he signed on Thursday, scholar Zeynep Tufeckci, writing for The Atlantic, expounds on some of the reasons why Trump really has no intention of tightening the legislative screws on Silicon Valley—even if he could. In particular, Tufekci notes the symbiosis that exists between Trump and Facebook …

“The relationship is so smooth that Trump said Zuckerberg congratulated the president for being ‘No. 1 on Facebook‘ at a private dinner with him. Bloomberg has reported that Facebook’s own data-science team agreed, publishing an internal report concluding how much better Trump was in leveraging ‘Facebook’s ability to optimize for outcomes.’ This isn’t an unusual move for Facebook and its clients. Bloomberg has reported that Facebook also offered its ‘white glove‘ services to the Philippine strongman Rodrigo Duterte, to help him ‘maximize the platform’s potential and use best practices.”’

When Zuckerberg appeared on Fox News and criticized Twitter for fact-checking a handful of Trump’s tweets, most of the response I saw was well-earned mockery. I shared the meme that said “Mark Zuckerberg—Dead At 36—Says Social Media Sites Should Not Fact Check Posts.” I mean, that’s pretty funny.

All sneering aside, though, Zuckerberg’s statement on Fox only repeated the same rhetoric that has been nodded at for years by internet users across the political spectrum—all buying the bullshit that these platforms make democracy work better. “I just believe strongly that Facebook shouldn’t be the arbiter of truth of everything that people say online,” Zuckerberg said. And that is not news. It’s the same gibberish that Big Tech, the EFF, the ACLU, PublicKnowledge, Techdirt, and every other techno-utopian voice has been repeating for more than a decade. 

It is ultimately necessary that people understand why Zuckerberg’s position is misguided outside the context of fact-checking the most dangerous president in modern history. But in the meantime, if the goal is to stymie Trump’s assault on America, then one thing we could do is to stop giving Zuckerberg so much of our time and data for free. Every post, especially every substantive post, feeds the data machine that, according to Tufekci’s statement above, team Trump happens to be so good at leveraging. And for which team Facebook is apparently congratulating them. Further, Tufekci tells us …

“In 2016, Facebook’s own internal research team found that ’64% of all extremist group joins are due to our recommendation tools’ and, if left unchecked, Facebook would feed users ‘more and more divisive content in an effort to gain user attention and increase time on the platform.’ The same research team also found that fake news, spam, clickbait, and inauthentic users inevitably included ‘a larger infrastructure of accounts and publishers on the far right than on the far left.’”

So what do we do with this information? Because the data seem to suggest that Americans who want to disarm Trump—and that happens to be most Americans—should in fact deny Facebook their voluntary input. Far more meaningful than refusing to patronize a business because one does not like the CEO’s politics, if the lion’s share of Americans simply bailed on Facebook, that would seriously mess up Zuckerberg’s game and, by extension, Trump’s game. We could just MySpace that shit. But can we?

I know. It’s like we’re all teenagers again (okay, in my generation) talking to that girlfriend or boyfriend, saying, “No, you hang up first.” It’s why Zuckerberg really doesn’t care if we call him a smug pinhead on his own platform. As long as we don’t leave, he’s laughing all the way to a very large bank. Our real friends and family are on Facebook. It’s the only way some of us keep in touch at all, even without the restrictions imposed by a pandemic. So, unless we all say “One, two, three, go,” and hang up simultaneously, it ain’t gonna happen. One friend over the weekend posted a simple statement that seems to sum up how many are lately feeling …

“It’s a tough question. My friends are all here and I use it to keep track of photos and promote [my work]. But yes evil and destroying our culture so … ???”

Evil and destroying our culture. Who would hesitate to abandon such a service? And how distinct is that sentiment from Facebook’s original tech-bro imperative motto, Move fast and break things.? Anyone who reads this blog knows that I believe social media does more harm than good for democratic societies. In between the connections and the celebrations, it is almost impossible to avoid feeding on a steady diet of outrageous content—much of which is not only untrue but has been purposely crafted by professional trolls working to exacerbate division and hate.

Add to this mix the real racists, anti-semites misogynists, and accelerationists—and a president who unrepentantly throws fuel on all those fires—and we need to understand that there is no way for the rest of us to entirely avoid feeding the riot as long as we remain part of the data set. Twitter may be the medium we think of as Trump’s favorite propaganda toy, but it looks like Facebook is the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. And like it or not, we are all providing the ammo.

On the other hand, the point of a boycott (even if it were possible) is not necessarily to shut down a business, but to force it to change its practices. And that’s the larger question—not whether we need to leave Facebook per se, but to ask what kind of cultural and policy changes are necessary in order to maximize the positive effects of social platforms and minimize the harm they cause. The techno-utopian faith that the good will overwhelm the bad (i.e. the wisdom of crowds) has proven false. A minority of bad actors online, like a few bad cops or a few violent protestors, can inflict permanent damage. And the challenges presented are systemic—cultural, legal, and economic. 

The folly of Trump’s Executive Order, oddly enough, points to the first step:  recognizing what the EO does not—that social platforms are not defenders of the speech right, and that the speech right itself has been grotesquely distorted thanks, in large part, to social platforms. If we can begin with the premise that not everything posted to the internet is protected speech–and that even if it is protected speech, platforms have no obligation to support it–we might be able to recognize that the plan for better social platform governance is not so novel as the industry tries to make it seem. The developers ebulliently call their spaces “communities” but have thus far rarely looked to community for guidance. 

It may be arduous in practice to weed out the hate mongers and provocateurs, but it is not so complicated in principle as Silicon Valley and its PR machine have made it sound. Facebook is no more obligated to host a white supremacist page than my local cafe is to put a KKK poster in its window. Communities say No to bad actors all the time. Facebook, Twitter, Reddit, et al can do the same thing, and it is long past the moment when they should stop wringing their hands each time they finally make a moral decision. Like when Cloudflare dropped The Daily Stormer in 2017, and one of its team members wondered if that was “the day the internet dies.” Time to grow up. 

It is a tragic reality for the nation that far too much material that fits the descriptions misleading, violence-inciting, hate-mongering, and harassing has been mislabeled “conservative” because the President uses social media to amplify that kind of content. Consequently, I get why Facebook feels it has a Trump problem, but that’s tough shit for Zuckerberg. We all have a Trump problem. He is a moral hazard. A berserker in a nation trying to hold civilization together with its bare hands. And Zuckerberg’s alleged neutrality does not make him a principled actor. It makes him an arms dealer profiting from both sides of a war.