<nettime> GET REAL

[MarkDery@aol.com]

    [A slightly different version of the following originally appeared in 
_Atlantic Unbound_, the online version of _The Atlantic Monthly_.]

Andrew L. Shapiro's _The Control Revolution_, which hit bookstores in
June, is clearly conceived as a pillow book for policy makers.  Shapiro, a
lawyer, contributing editor at _The Nation_, and director of the Internet
Policy Project at the power-elite forum the Aspen Institute, is also a
policy analyst.  In his new book, he ponders the social and political
implications of the digital revolution ("How the Internet is Putting
Individuals in Charge and Changing the World We Know"). _The Control
Revolution_ is tightly structured, soberly reasoned, and boasts several
thousand-watt insights.  That said, those used to lively prose may find
themselves stifling the occasional yawn.  This is Al Gore's idea of a
beach book. 

    Shapiro argues that "the real change set in motion by the Internet
may, in fact, be a control revolution, a vast transformation in who
governs information, experience, and resources.  Increasingly, it seems
that *we* will."  As examples of our newfound empowerment, he cites
Serbian democracy activists who defied state censors by "broadcasting" on
the Internet and the Net-given ability to sidestep traditional
intermediaries such as stockbrokers, editors, even elected officials.  At
the same time, Shapiro warns, governments, corporations, and other
guardians of centralized, top-down decision-making are already attempting
to parry our power.  More ominously, we may abuse that power, withdrawing
into our electronic cocoons, seceding from community life and the
responsibilities of citizenship. To guard against institutional repression
and the personal control freakery that he calls "oversteer," Shapiro
counsels balance, which for him involves "recognizing the importance of
community and collective action as counterweights to both institutional
power and individual control."  He's inspiring when he's evoking visions
of community computer networks that would help revitalize civic life and a
national commons in cyberspace "where otherwise-invisible community
groups, activists, and artists might occasionally have a limited but real
opportunity to be seen or heard."  And he's predictably good on legal
issues, offering thoughtful solutions to nettlesome problems such as
childproofing the Net and public access to encryption software.  In the
debit column, he sometimes substitutes platitudes for policy
recommendations ("We need to demand higher standards of our media
middlemen"; politicians "must represent the people but be independent of
their whims"). 

    Shapiro describes his book as an attempt to further the ends of
"technorealism," a term he and fellow cyberpundit David Shenk coined in
1998 to mean "a critical perspective on technology that is meant to go
beyond the simple dualism of cyber-utopianism and neo-Luddism."  In the
interview that follows, Shapiro notes that technorealism's target audience
is not the way wired, "but the much, much larger group of thoughtful folks
who care about how the rise of the Internet is affecting their lives on a
day-to-day basis."  Who, exactly, are these "folks?"  There's no debating
Shapiro's claim that the PC and networked computing have proven
deliriously liberating to some.  But the weasel word, here, is "some."  In
the following interview, Shapiro cites day trading and MP3 technology,
which enables users to download music directly from artists' websites, as
examples of "average folks," some of them "truly disenfranchised," using
the Net to "shake up existing power relations." In fact, such examples
suggest that much of the control revolution's empowerment is either
irrelevant to "average folks" or operates only inside cyberspace's magic
bubble.  For example, most "average folks" don't have the stock-market
expertise or financial safety-net that are prerequisites for the
high-stakes gambling of day trading.  Likewise, most "average folks" don't
have the leisure time to spend hours downloading music from the Net, or
the luxury of caring whether MP3 will free musicians from their indentured
corporate servitude.  As for the "truly disenfranchised," they're offline,
in garment-district sweatshops or migrant-worker camps or, at worst, on
the streets.  Underpaid, overworked, and unplugged, they're light years
away from the world in which people are using the Net to "shake up
existing power relations." 

    A truly realistic technorealism would acknowledge the uneven
distribution of the new technological resources and the ways in which they
reinforce, rather than undermine, power relations, foremost among them
economic inequity.  In an America where only the top 20 percent of
families are enjoying any real increase in income and the number of
personal bankruptcies is eight times greater than it was during the Great
Depression, Shapiro's "technorealist" assertions that "hierarchies are
coming undone" and "power is devolving down to 'end users'" sound like so
much virtual reality. 
                        * * *

In search of answers to the swarm of questions stirred up by this provocative 
book, I conducted the following e-mail interview with Shapiro earlier this 
month.
                        * * *

MARK DERY: What, exactly, is technorealism being realistic *about*? 
Aren't the issues that push TR's buttons---privacy, copyright, ownership
of the airwaves, wiring of the schools---classic libertarian concerns,
shared by the digital elite TR inveighs against?  R.U. Sirius, the always
amusing former editor of _Mondo 2000_, puts his finger on the nub of the
matter when he writes, "Attempts to reverse undesirable trends of real
importance, like the increasing gulf between the rich and the poor, or the
fact that a nation of pod people will tolerate corporate testing of bodily
fluids without screaming bloody revolution, are not serviced by a tepid
set of rationalist principles aimed at unseating a small, perceived
techno-utopian elite whose influence is limited and waning anyway."

ANDREW SHAPIRO: Technorealism is a project that seeks to get people to
think critically about new tools such as the Internet and their impact on
society.  It's also a *word* that can help to open up our culture's
cramped way of talking about technology.  When the *New York Times*
announces the launch of its new technology section by asking readers "Are
you a technophile or a technophobe?," it would seem that we need a more
nuanced way of thinking and talking about technology.

There's so much hype and hysteria surrounding every aspect of the
high-tech world---from IPO valuations to information warfare to distance
learning---it may be helpful just to be able to say, "Well, I take a more
technorealist view of that," and to have people know that your perspective
is more balanced, contingent, and realistic.  At a minimum, I think
technorealism has exposed the silliness of the idea that if you're not an
out-and-out booster of technology, then you've got to be some kind of
ignoramus crusading against all machines.  It's created more space for
technology criticism as a valid enterprise alongside music criticism,
literary criticism, and so on---such that the tech critic is not
automatically perceived as being *against* technology.

The initial technorealism principles that were drawn up by David Shenk,
Steven Johnson, myself, and nine other technology writers (see
www.technorealism.org) were simply meant to open up a dialogue about how
our culture thinks about technology.  Your question suggests that these
principles were self-evident---to you and a few know-it-all cyber guys. 
But, so what?  Our target audience was not the digerati, but the much,
much larger group of thoughtful folks who care about how the rise of the
Internet is affecting their lives on a day to day basis.  And we were very
heartened to see thousands of these people endorsing our effort, along
with tech luminaries like Mitch Kapor, founder of Lotus and co-founder of
the Electronic Frontier Foundation; Howard Rheingold, author of *The
Virtual Community*; and Kevin Kelly, executive editor of *Wired*.  Since
then, I think we've all continued---in our own ways, in our own
projects---to articulate aspects of technorealism, which was the plan all
along.  My book *The Control Revolution*, not surprisingly, is one of
these efforts.

MARK DERY: Although you neatly skewer some of the sacred truths of
cyberpunditry, you embrace the Silicon Valley article of faith that "new
technology is allowing individuals to take power from large institutions
such as government, corporations, and the media."  Which begs the
question: *Which* individuals? _The Control Revolution_ seems to address
those well-rewarded by the Digital Revolution---the typical _Wired_ reader
who has the economic luxury of worrying about the government's stance on
e-mail encryption or ferreting out the falsehoods in a _Time_ story on
cyberporn.  Outside the charmed circle of the digital elite, however, the
notion that we're witnessing a powershift would seem counterintuitive to
an increasingly anxious middle class.  I would argue that those whose
concerns are a little closer to the ground---the debt-saddled lower
middle-class, downsized blue-collar laborers, and the working poor---are
haunted by feelings of powerlessness, not empowerment. 

Ironically, it's the post-industrial revolution, driven by the very
information technology you're so sanguine about, that's exacerbating
income inequality.  The Digital Revolution, says the economist Paul
Krugman, "very much devalues the work of people who are not exceptionally
talented, and greatly increases the income of a very few."  Doesn't the
bigger picture of the economic and social landscape belie your vision of
personal power and social progress made possible by interactive, networked
technologies?

ANDREW SHAPIRO: Let me start by saying this: I certainly don't agree with
the New Economy gurus who say that advances in technology are going to
erase poverty and income inequality. At the outset of my book, I define
the control revolution as "the *potentially* monumental shift in control
from institutions to individuals made possible by new technology such as
the Internet."  I also define this revolution as encompassing "the
unexpected, and not always desirable, ways in which such change could
reshape our lives."  I do believe the Net allows users to take charge of
information, experience, and resources in some unprecedented ways. They
can gain more control over what they read and learn, whom they interact
with, and even how they participate in commerce and politics.  Does this
mean that individual empowerment is extending to everyone in the world, or
even the U.S., right now?  Of course not.  And it certainly doesn't mean
that the Net is going to erase inequality and misery. 

Still, if we want to understand the impact of the Net on
society---particularly on those who are using it now and who will be using
it shortly---the relationship of the individual to various institutions is
a good place to start, because there really is something interesting
happening here.  Whether we're talking about day trading, the rise of MP3
music download sites, or the use of email by dissidents abroad, lots of
average folks---and some truly disenfranchised people---are using the Net
to shake up existing power relations. 

Now, as the definition I cited above suggests, a good chunk of my book is
about how all this new individual empowerment could go awry---how, as I
put it at one point, "the control revolution's shift of power could
benefit some individuals more than others---or even some individuals at
the expense of others."  The growing income inequality you cite is an
excellent example.  And there are many others which I discuss, including
the abandonment of democratic and societal values.  What we have to do is
learn to shoulder the responsibilities that accompany the new individual
control.  MARK DERY: I was heartened by your emphasis on using the Net "as
a vehicle not just for occasional escapism, but to enhance local
engagement online and off."  Even so, doesn't your emphasis on local
community neglect the larger potential of the Net as an engine of
transnational activism in the age of globalization? Since you are, after
all, a contributing editor to _The Nation_, I kept listening for echoes of
"Workers of the world, unite!"  What role can the Net play in, say,
forging alliances between Third-World sweatshop workers and the downsized
American laborers they've replaced?  ANDREW SHAPIRO: Well, I must confess:
I'm no expert in "transnational labor activism" (wonder if I'll lose my
spot on the *Nation* masthead!).  But I certainly applaud the use of the
Internet by activists, domestically and internationally.  In fact, online
activism is one of the main themes that run throughout _The Control
Revolution_.  The book opens with an anecdote about the use of new media
by democracy activists in Moscow and Belgrade, and goes on to discuss
Internet use in Burma, China, Singapore, the Middle East, and Europe.  I
also discuss how the Net is being employed by human rights activists, free
speech crusaders, and advocates of the disabled, among others.  _The
Control Revolution_ does call for a stronger emphasis on localism and the
use of the Net as a tool for community development and engagement.  But my
broader message is one of balance between global and local activism.  I
don't recommend that people "think globally" but only "act locally." 
Rather, I suggest that we *surf* globally and *network* locally, which
means: Act in a way that produces global benefits, but stay grounded in
your local community.  MARK DERY: Doesn't your premonition, near the end
of _The Control Revolution_, that "given the hugely disproportionate power
of corporations, we simply may not be able to leverage our new abilities
against the private sector" bode ill for the Control Revolution?  ANDREW
SHAPIRO: The clash between corporate power and the nascent individual
autonomy that the Net makes possible is a major part of the control
revolution.  I spend a lot of time in the book trying to show how powerful
corporate actors, particularly Internet gatekeepers like Microsoft, are
anxious about the new individual control.  Despite their clever slogans
celebrating personal empowerment---"Where do *you* want to go
today?"---these companies often act instinctively in ways that deprive us
of this freedom: narrowing content choices online, implementing their own
speech codes, squashing competition, and gathering data about us without
our consent. MARK DERY: Speaking of content choice, you imagine, in your
defense of middlemen in the age of "disintermediation," a scenario in
which manufacturers of browser software are charged with the
responsibility of childproofing cyberspace.  "They might be required to
give adults access to the full Internet," you write, while providing
minors with "kid browsers" that would "give access to a variety of
white-list sites online."  But who would draw up these "white lists?" 
Wouldn't your middlemen find themselves in a hornet's-nest of controversy? 
ANDREW SHAPIRO: Like almost every Internet-related idea, disintermediation
has been oversold.  One of my goals in _The Control Revolution_ is to show
the value of many traditional intermediaries---be they political
representatives, news professionals, commercial middlemen, or educators. 
In the context you mention---protecting kids from sexual material while
safeguarding the free speech rights of adults---I want to invite the
reader to think about how commercial middlemen in society have
traditionally helped us to strike this balance.  (This is part of a
broader approach to figuring out appropriate rules for the Net: generally,
I think we do well by looking at the principles that underlie existing
rules, rather than applying those rules mechanically or scrapping them
altogether.)  It's something we rarely think about, but the guy who sells
adult magazines, for example, is in a way an agent of the public good.  By
law, he's required to ask a young-looking purchaser for ID that will
establish majority age---even though the seller didn't create the content
that he's selling.  If the purchaser is a kid, then he or she gets steered
towards kid-appropriate content.  The same happens in other societal
contexts: at movie theaters, in libraries, and so on. 

    In the online context, politicians have presumed that there's no
intermediary to do this steering, and so they've threatened individuals
with prison sentences and big fines if they allow kids to get access to
smut.  What a drag for the Internet user!  Such a drag, the courts have
said, that it's an unconstitutional burden on free speech. 

Enter the (potentially) benevolent intermediary: the browser manufacturer,
which could voluntarily create different age-appropriate "kid browsers"
that parents could install on their computers.  The question remains,
though, what content a child would be able to see with a kid browser.  In
_The Control Revolution_, I mention that white lists of appropriate
content for minors have traditionally been drawn up by libraries and other
civic-minded groups.  My preference in the digital arena would be to have
as many white lists available as possible and to let parents choose which
they think are right for their kids. 

MARK DERY: On a more philosophical level, your Jeffersonian faith in
rationalism seems somehow out of step with the turbulence of the very
chaos culture you've mapped.  Any thoughts on this seeming contradiction? 

ANDREW SHAPIRO: I believe in a mix of bottom-up and top-down solutions to
social problems.  Sometimes "self-ordering" works. More often than not,
though, I think we need well-ordered collective action---whether through
traditional government or not---to preserve democratic values and civil
liberties.  In fact, even the positive "chaos" that many libertarians
celebrate often needs to be protected by top-down safeguards that prevent
any actor, public or private, from imposing an unhealthy regime of order. 

    Again, I'm calling for balance: between order and chaos, individual
empowerment and delegation to trusted intermediaries, personal interest
and commitment to the public good.  Only if we strive to achieve these
equilibria will the Internet's revolution in power and control come out
right. 

                        - 30 -
Mark Dery [markdery@well.com] is a cultural critic.  He wrote _Escape 
Velocity: Cyberculture at the End of the Century_ 
(www.levity.com/markdery/ESCAPE/VELOCITY/index.html>) and edited _Flame Wars: 
The Discourse of Cyberculture_ (www.levity.com/markdery/flame.html>).  His 
collection of essays, _The Pyrotechnic Insanitarium: American Culture on the 
Brink_ <www.levity.com/markdery/pyro.html>, was published by Grove Press in 
February. 

NOTES

[1] Quoted in "20 Ways We've Changed," _Mother Jones_, May 10, 1999, 
http://bsd.motherjones.com/mother_jones/JF96/anniversary/20ways.html.

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