Spoiler Alert: These essays are ideally to be read after viewing the respective films.
Showing posts with label plutocracy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plutocracy. Show all posts

Monday, February 25, 2019

The Internet’s Own Boy: The Story of Aaron Swartz

To Aaron Swartz, the subject of the documentary, The Internet’s Own Boy (2014), the major concern in his day regarding the internet was not the ability of a person to create a blog or use social media; rather, the problem was in the trend of the power of the gate-keepers, who tell you were on the internet you want to go, concentrating. In other words, the issue concerned what commands our attention. More specifically, who gets access to the ways people find things on the internet. “Now everyone has a license to speak; it’s a question of who gets heard,” he said.  Although he was a computer wiz, he also had political aspirations; both of which were on display as he lobbied against the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA), which was introduced in Congress in October of 2011. Unfortunately, the combination of his computer and political skills got the attention of the FBI, which engaged in a relentless pursuit of him until, under the pressure, he committed suicide at the age of 26. His short life was one of idealism that should not have been squashed by an unstoppable criminal-justice system, especially when influenced by political pressure from corporations and politicians. Lest the overzealousness of law enforcement obscure a vision of Aaron’s idealism, it can be viewed as public access being restored to the public domain in terms of the internet.


Tim Lee, the founder of the internet who notably did not cash out but rather kept the web open, influenced Aaron. Although he bristled at the constraints in working at an internet company, he was also not primarily motivated by money. Instead, he was motivated by fairness as it applies to the public good. Whereas high-tech firms are oriented to their own private good, the public good implies public access—something about which Arron felt strongly. In other words, he detested the privatization of the public internet by private gate-keepers. “The public domain should be free to all, but it is often locked up” by corporations, said Brewster Kahle of The Internet Archive. Aaron’s motivation and activity hinged on the question of how public access could be brought to the public domain. This was “one of the things that got him in so much trouble,” said Kahle.

Pacer, a company that made about $120 million a year charging for access to the public records of courts, caught Aaron’s attention. By law, the courts could charge only what is necessary to run Pacer. As that company was interested in charging “customers” much more, hence narrowing the public’s access, Aaron downloaded 20 million pages of court documents. This was not illegal, and yet the FBI began staking out his parents’ house. Once able to analyze the documents, he discovered “massive privacy violations.” Yet is was the restricted public access, caused by wealth disparity, that really caught his attention. As Tim O’Reilly of O’Reilly Media asked rhetorically in the film, “The law is the operating system of our democracy and you have to pay to see it?” Put another way, the privatization of the public domain can be viewed as the onslaught of plutocracy, the rule by wealth, over democracy.

Besides access to common law, knowledge is vital to a republic. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson agreed on this point. Aaron looked at the gatekeepers of academic articles—private companies like Jstor—which were charging substantial fees for public access (whereas scholars working for universities could access the articles for free). Such gatekeepers can be distinguished from the journals/publishers of the articles. Although a journal rightfully charges for a copy, if a public library (or government-sponsored university) has purchased one, shouldn’t the public have access to the issue? Should libraries have to pay substantial fees to the gatekeepers?

At MIT, Aaron downloaded articles on Jstor. It is not clear what he would have done with them. He had downloaded databases simply to analyze their content rather than make it public. MIT found his computer in a computer closet and gathered evidence to build a case. At the time, he was working at Harvard. If he didn’t have a status at MIT and thus had to hack into the system, MIT had a case. After all, people should not be allowed to unilaterally plug their laptops directly into computer systems. Even so, that police assaulted him on his way home and that U.S. Secret Service, which under the Patriot’s Act, can investigate “schemes using new technology,” took over smacks as going too far, especially if the police were MIT’s own. This would suggest too much power having been given to the university administration whether by its board or the government of Massachusetts. Having its own police power, a university administration can find itself charged with the taint of abuse of power sans accountability. After all, a university is more like a business than a government, hence democratic safeguards are not necessarily in place.

Looking at Aaron’s downloading itself, Carmen Ortesz of Massachusetts’ district attorney’s office says in the film, “Stealing is stealing, whether you use a computer command or a crowbar, and whether you take documents, data, or dollars.” Aaron’s attorney retorts, He wasn’t stealing; he wasn’t selling what he got or giving it away.” When he had been a student at Stanford, Aaron had downloaded the Westlaw database to find relationships between sponsoring organizations and favorable research results. He didn’t release the documents. So the criminal prosecution of Aaron for downloading Jstor articles was as a commercial violation yet no evidence of motive existed; it could not be assumed that he would sell or otherwise make the articles available to the public. The problem was that he had put his name to a blog post, “Gorilla Manifesto,” in which open access is advocated.

For his part, Aaron points out that sharing knowledge with friends is not stealing; rather, doing so is a moral imperative because corporations act as gatekeepers to make money—essentially clipping away at the public domain. This is none other than “theft of public culture,” he says in the film. It is interesting the police felt the need to assault him and yet the thefts by the powerful gatekeepers were somehow legal. He told his girlfriend, “I’ve been arrested for downloading too many academic journals,” as if acquiring knowledge were a crime worthy of the perpetrator being held in solitary confinement as he was. Even Jstor must have viewed the criminal justice system as going too far, for the company dropped the case, saying it had been the government’s decision to prosecute. In fact, Stephen Jeymann, the politically-aspiring assistant district attorney of Massachusetts who interestingly kept the case for himself, told Aaron that he still could face 35 years in prison and a fine of up to $1 million. This raises the ethical question of whether an individual should be made to suffer inordinately to serve as a deterrent.

If the public good is the reason why, then what then of the for-profit companies that were essentially privatizing parts of the public domain? MIT, which had moral authority, was mute when the defense asked for assistance. The university characterized this stance as neutral, but Aaron’s lawyer said it was actually pro-prosecutor.
In the film, David Sirota points to the problem of selective deterrence from political ideology. He points out that the Obama administration did not prosecute the financial institutions and individuals for crimes that led to the financial crisis of 2008, yet while devoting resources to prosecuting selective deterrents, including Aaron’s case. It is no coincidence, Sirota claims, that Obama left office as a billionaire, which he had not been when he was a legislator in Illinois’ government and law instructor at the University of Chicago. I would add that Goldman Sachs’ $1 million contribution to Obama’s ’08 presidential campaign is also relevant. Clearly, Obama’s “Wall Street Government” was doing the bidding of the powerful rather than standing up for public access of knowledge.

Aaron hit his stride in spite of his pending trial when he put his computer skills to use in lobbying against the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA), which initially had many co-sponsors in the U.S. Senate. Specifically, he wrote software making it easier for people to contact Congress. The bill was ostensibly against online piracy of music and movies, but, according to Aaron, the legislation was really about the freedom to connect. A company could cut off a website from the internet or force Google to cut links to the site; a claim of copyright infringement, without due process (i.e., a trial), would be all that would be necessary. In the film, U.S. Senator Wyden of Oregon says the bill poses a threat to freedom of speech and civil liberties. “It makes no sense to destroy the architecture of the internet to combat piracy,” he points out. In a particularly revealing “macro” comment, the senator points to the power of private powers in the American democratic system. “Typically, the legislative fights in Washington are fights between different sets of corporate moneyed interests—all duking it out to pass legislation. The fights that are the closest are when you have one set of corporate interests against another set of corporate interests and they are generally financially matched in campaign contributions and lobbying. The ones that aren’t even fights typically are those where all the money is on one side—all the corporations are on one side—and millions of people are on the other.” In other words, under the rubric of popular sovereignty (i.e., representatives representing their respective constituents as a group), the interests of private concentrations of wealth (i.e., corporations) essentially own the Congress and the White House.

In this case, constituents spoke up and their representatives in Congress noticed. Suddenly all but a few of the myriad co-sponsors (sponsored in turn by powerful private interests) dropped their support. People boycotted GoDaddy for its pro-SOPA support. Obama reversed his support, which interestingly suggests that he had been siding with the corporate interests rather than the People even though he was purportedly for “real change,” including greater democracy. Obama was going after Arron’s community, including not only hackers, but also democracy activists because they are able to make trouble for those who are already in power, corporate and governmentally. Obama’s administration went after Aaron in order to scare as many in his community as possible so they would not make trouble. Secrecy serves those who are already in power. Aaron was a threat because he was working toward open access to the public square even though reasonable people can disagree as to what rightly goes in there. Interestingly, Aaron had warned of the inordinate NSA spying.

SOPA didn’t pass. In fact, it was withdrawn. Aaron’s community won. Interestingly, the federal government charged Aaron with nine additional counts. Eleven of the thirteen total charges were for violating the terms of service of sites. Orin Kerr, a  lawyer, says in the film that such a type of indictment is unfair. Bryan Stevenson of Equal Right Initiative laments the excessiveness that had taken hold in the American criminal-justice system such that by Aaron’s day, “Anything we are angry about instinctively triggers a criminal justice intervention.” Even looking at a security guard the wrong way can trigger his “need” to call the local police, who have come to be prone to “overkill” in over-estimating degrees of threat. The impulse to “observe,” intimidate, threaten, indict, and prosecute has come to be triggered by people who are merely mad at something. The impulse, in other words, had become too sensitive even by Aaron’s time. Unfortunately, countervailing accountability on the occupants of that system has been hard to come by. The People en masse can pressure governments to contain even the passive aggression inflicted on citizens—particularly those who object. Though this is unlikely, considering how much energy it takes to stimulate a large number of people such that their elected representatives take notice. With regard to the People squeezing in where the corporate-governmental axis is dominant (hegemonic), the corporate lobbyists and the beneficiaries of corporate campaign contributions depend on the illusion of public accountability even as publicly they pay homage to the strong American democracy for and by the People. 

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Breaking News: The Wizard of Oz is ONLY in The Matrix

In penning the 1976 iconic film, Network, screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky anticipated Rupert Murdoch and Roger Ailes, the two founders of the Fox News network, personified in the film as Arthur Jensen—the “man behind the curtain” turning the news department over to programming (i.e., marketing). Chayefsky’s observations in broadcast newsrooms were sufficient to reveal the trajectory, then only in its infancy, that would eventually fuse tabloid “news” and political ideology together at 24/7 news networks. Astonishingly, Chayefsky anticipated even Glenn Beck and Pat O’Reilly of Fox News. In the mid-1970s in which the film takes place, the two media stars are prefigured or personified as Howard Beale, a news anchor who goes crazy.[1] Thirty years later, Beck and O’Reilly (as well as Keith Oberman on MSNBC) would enjoy years proselytizing on air before the American public finally realized that the three men behind the curtain “had issues.” Glenn Beck self-destructed, having hanged himself by the verbal freedom he had given himself to spout his dire apocalyptic predictions, and Keith Oberman had “authority issues” with bosses. Meanwhile, the public allowed O’Reilly to go on as if he were the kooky uncle who raves after a few drinks yet is all too clever and calculating (i.e., self-serving) underneath.


 Generally speaking, Chayefsky saw the future of broadcast “journalism” as something rather more baleful than a Glenn Beck self-remade as a bespectacled pseudo-intellectual in tweed.  The screenwriter had an innate sense of just how news personalities would arouse the silent majority into living vicariously through the 24/7 news-cycle slanted gravitationally by the sheer mass of corporate and political capital.

Similar to how Neal is a threat to the machines who operate the matrix, Beale becomes a threat to the vested powerful interests in business and government as soon as his preachments turn against them. Beale the prophet tells his viewers that they have fallen into a stupefied daze as “programmed humanoids,” creatures who are unknowingly manipulated even as they think they have free-will and are individuals whose lives are not scripted or pre-programmed. Democracy is a fraud perpetuated by corporate interests that really pull the strings, both in terms of what the viewers see on television and what is put into the empty real lives. In other words, we are ensconced in a matrix built and maintained by the real entities—corporations—that manipulate and prostitute us even while telling us that we like it.

No one is to say publically what Wall Street and K Street are doing to America, not to mention the medium by which the citizenry are informed. Beale’s mad vision of restoring true democracy and the intellectual freedom of individualism reveals the “man behind the curtain” (Arthur Jensen, the chairman of the board) to be something less than a wizard. Rather than squeezing the attention-getting “oracle” as if Beale were a distended or bloated melon to be held in a tight vice until he either capitulates or bursts, Jensen coöpts the prophet himself—not by money though; rather, Jensen feeds Beale’s lunacy. Unfortunately for Beale, his new direction loses viewers; he thus becomes a threat to Jensen’s own network. Through all these twists and turns, the news is quietly absent—presumably truncated by the “media circus.”

The core message in Network is not merely that journalistic integrity and quality lose out all-too-easily to sensationalism (i.e., an expansive profit-motive), the business interest, and political advocacy. Rather, the true insight is paradoxical in nature, prefiguring the solipsism (i.e., your brain is really in a vat even as you think you are eating or running) that is illustrated so well in The Matrix trilogy. What we think is real life—the “drama” and edited “news” on television (even “reality television” shows)—is anything but, while absorption in this fake world saps viewers of any real emotive investment in their actual lives. In other words, what t.v. addicts take as the real world is anything but, while what they assume is dull and meaningless is actually real life. One problem with this metaphysical inversion is that commercial and governmental powers can have their way all too easily in the false world of “reality television” primped up as news. The first step out of the closed system of manipulation is to wake up (as in the Buddhist sense, I suppose) and fall from the matrix as if a sludge of entrails going down the tube. Such “waste” is of course premised on the vested interests (and related values) in the Matrix only. Hence, the individuals awakened are not really discarded waste products; rather, the unprogrammed human beings are of infinite value, according to Kant, in exercising reason to assign values to things rather than be assigned a (conditional) value by them (i.e., the machines).



1. Jim Edwards, “SPOOKY: The 1976 Movie ‘Network’ Predicted YouTube and ‘Two And A Half Men,’” Business Insider, February 15, 2012.