--- F R E N D Z of martian --- OK, late in the day, I know. But this is fascinating. There's usually loads of pseuds spouting crap on nettime but this interesting and insightful -- Martin Cosgrave Appdev Ltd - http://appdev.co.uk 0117 902 3143 ----- Original Message ----- From: geert lovink <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> To: Nettime <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Sent: Friday, April 14, 2000 4:01 AM Subject: <nettime> twilight of the crypto-geeks > http://www.salon.com/tech/feature/2000/04/13/libertarians/index.html > > Twilight of the crypto-geeks > > Lone-wolf digital libertarians are beginning to abandon their faith in > technology uber alles and espouse suspiciously socialist-sounding ideas. > > - - - - - - - - - - - - > > By Ellen Ullman > > > April 13, 2000 | TORONTO -- On the first day of the 10th Computers, > Freedom and Privacy Conference -- the unique annual meeting that brings > together an unlikely combination of programmers, activists and government > officials -- two very different events took place simultaneously. > > One: About 30 participants and 50 observers crowded into a hotel meeting > room for a workshop led by Lenny Foner -- computer guy in jeans and long > hair, Ph.D. candidate at the MIT Media Lab. Foner was trying to get the > group interested in starting up a new domain name system for the Internet. > He was probably thinking Linux; he was most likely hoping for a Linus > Torvalds sort of role. His idea was to maybe "route around" the current, > dispute-prone system of matching Internet addresses to names. Maybe we > should make a superset of the DNS, the workshop considered, or an > alternative to it, or something -- no one could even agree on the precise > nature of the problem, let alone its solution. > > At any rate, this didn't stop Foner. He had a programmer's idea of how > things get done in the world: Forget about the government; don't form a > committee. Just write up a short proposal, give your idea a silly > hacker-ish sort of name (even he admitted that the name he chose, > "Smoosh," was somewhat unfortunate), talk about it to some very smart > people, get a small group of them interested, then just start hacking out > some code. > > John Gilmore, a founder of the Electronic Frontier Foundation and > self-described libertarian, was at the workshop, and with terrible > succinctness he laid out the thinking behind Foner's vision of the > programmer-created world. Gilmore was opposed to too many people getting > involved in whatever Foner is going to do. "Almost everything that works > on the Net grew out of tiny groups of people working in isolation," he > said. > > Meanwhile, as Foner was talking about "how to prototype something new," > there was event No. 2: The Canadian Parliament was passing Bill C-6, a > data protection act like the European Union's Data Directive -- leaving > the United States as the sole highly industrialized nation without legal > data-privacy protections. > > Ann Cavoukian, privacy commissioner for Ontario, was in the room with > Foner and other workshop participants when she heard the news. She clapped > quietly but with obvious signs of relief. Evidently, the process leading > to the passage of the C-6 was nothing like the "tiny groups working in > isolation" that John Gilmore had described just a few minutes before. > According to Stephanie Perrin, who worked with the Canadian Department of > Commerce and Industry for 20 years and who took part in the drafting of > the bill, it had involved hundreds of people. It required concessions on > all sides. The resulting law is not perfect. "It was a long and difficult > process," she said, "where everyone fought." > > These two events -- the programmers workshop and the passing of a federal > data-privacy law -- are like the ends of a rope in a heatedly fought game > of tug-of-war, a game that has been battled at CPF over the course of the > conference's 10-year existence. > > On one side are the geeks, nerds, crypto-anarchists, libertarians and > cypherpunks -- mistrustful of government, suspicious of all attempts at > regulation, believers in the ability of technology, in and of itself, to > solve society's ills (maybe with a little marginally legal hacking on the > side, just to keep the political pot boiling). Austin Hill, president of > Zero-Knowledge, opened the conference like a true techno-believer, quoting > John Gilmore as saying, "I want to guarantee [privacy] with physics and > mathematics, not with laws." > > Opposing the technologists are the believers in law above all else: the > think-tank and activist lawyers; the privacy commissioners in their > well-cut European suits; the pragmatists advocating commissions and > studies and meetings -- participants in the rough-and-tumble of political > life, with all its confusions and compromises and imperfect results. > > In the past, the techno-believers ruled CFP. The programmers' vision of > creation -- the lone geniuses -- prevailed over the data-privacy > "bureaucrats" -- so hard to listen to, after all, with their thick foreign > accents and their tedious, confusing laws. > > But something different happened this year. The flag in the middle of the > tug-of-war rope moved. Two well-known technologists, known for their > belief in working code and skepticism about the workings of law, stepped > across the divide, moving, maybe despite themselves, toward a recognition > of social and political realities. Two others, whose views have been more > balanced, questioned libertarianism -- the limitations of a technocentric > approach to the complicated questions of privacy and freedom. It was as if > some tipping point had been reached, in which a critical mass of people > involved in technology had suddenly looked up and found themselves to be > older, grown-up, and in need of social supports -- grown-up like the Net > itself. > > The first famous technologist over the line -- albeit tippy-toeing -- is > Phil Zimmermann, creator of PGP (Pretty Good Privacy) encryption software, > techno-hero, defier of the government when it tried to declare encryption > a "weapon" and Zimmermann a felon for "exporting" it. > > His moment comes during the discussion following the dinner speech on > Wednesday night. Neal Stephenson, a writer with a cultlike following among > the technologically minded and author of the classic "Snowcrash," has > given an over-long, hugely digressive -- and brilliant -- speech. After > many, many turns and a deep stack of points and stories, Stephenson gets > around to saying that the best defense for one's privacy and personal > integrity turns out to be not cryptography but, what do you know, "social > structures." He is not explicit about the exact nature of these > structures, but from the slides that follow, we get a sense of every sort > of social relationship from neighborly friendliness to political parties. > The slides show drawings of small circles representing areas of social > trust. The circles widen and merge, to create a field of autonomy, a > trusted space. > > Stephenson is making a point about code: Without a sociopolitical context, > cryptography is not going to protect you. He singles out PGP for > criticism, saying that relying on the encryption scheme is like trying to > protect your house with a fence consisting of a single, very tall picket. > A slide shows the lone picket rising into the sky, a bird considering it > with bulging eyes. > > After the speech, Zimmermann puts up his hand, and of course Stephenson > calls on him. It's clear Zimmermann has "gotten" the speech. He doesn't go > so far as to endorse anything like "social structures," communities of > trust, neighborhoods of understanding -- no, of course not. Zimmermann has > been staunchly against laws, rules, regulations: anything that could be > considered a form of social coercion. But he does admit that perhaps code > is not enough, that he never intended encryption, by itself, to work. "I > never meant PGP to be the defense of a lone libertarian," he says. > > It is a huge admission, in its way, from a programmer who has championed > code as a way to save us. But if this libertarian is not "lone," he is > with some other libertarians, presumably. And what are these more-than-one > libertarians doing? Organizing? Petitioning their government? Creating > zones of social trust? Zimmermann is a man who defines the word "loner"; > he has a tight manner; one doesn't imagine he's spent a lot of time > working on his empathy or inner doubts. He probably doesn't even let > himself realize the implications of what he's just said. > > "Let the record show," Stephenson says carefully in reply, "I never said > the word 'libertarian.'" > > - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - > > Tim Berners-Lee, creator of the World Wide Web and director of the World > Wide Web Consortium, will indeed say the word "libertarian." He will say > it on Thursday night, when he is the recipient of an EFF Pioneer Award, > given every year "to honor significant contributions to the advancement of > rights and responsibilities in the Information Society." > > Berners-Lee can't be there, but he has sent a videotape with his thanks. > He feels honored, is genuinely grateful. > > And then he looks less happy. Berners-Lee starts thinking about what has > happened to the Web since he dreamed it up: e-commerce, big corporations, > money. "Libertarians are used to fighting the government," he says, "and > not corporations ..." > > This must be very difficult for him to say. For the libertarians in the > audience to hear that business and free markets may not be the bringers of > unalloyed good ... To imagine that a business is something to be fought, > not respected ... No. Better to go off, leave the thought, don't say > anything more. > > But he can't somehow. Another unhappy thought comes: "I know we don't like > regulation where we can avoid it, but ..." > > And there he surely must stop. Bad enough to imagine fighting a > corporation, but to do it with regulations? Regulations, meaning laws, > meaning government? He has crossed into libertarian anathema. > > Why has this techno-hero raised the specter of libertarianism? > Theoretically, Berners-Lee personifies the "lone genius" technology ideal: > While working as a consultant at CERN, he went off by himself, just for > his own amusement, and coded up what we now call hypertext. Theoretically, > he has every right to believe that somebody else will go off alone, just > for his or her own amusement, and solve the problem of corporate control > of the Web. > > But it seems he has recognized a changed world, where neither he nor some > other programmer can do it alone. "We have to make sure that when people > go to the Internet, they get the Internet," he says, meaning the real Net, > the true one, the original -- whatever that might mean to him, or us. > Somehow, even if it means laws and rules and governments, we must find our > way back to this idyll. We must route around the new bad corporate Net, or > create a superset of it, or an alternative. Or something. > > Berners-Lee was speaking unpopular truths to the CFP crowd, but his > outspokenness is nothing compared to what is about to happen. The next > Pioneer award is to go not to an old programmer or to a lawyer at a think > tank, but to ... "librarians everywhere." Can we be hearing correctly? Did > they say librarians and not libertarians? But it's true: librarians. It is > an unprecedented award, the first to a group that can't be associated with > at least a few specific individuals. And in the face of this -- this > amazement, this recognition of the great unseen and unsung core of mostly > women -- the fourth of our techno-heroes will find himself to be, in his > startled heart, a lover of civil servants. > > Whitfield Diffie bounds to the platform. Diffie is a crypto-king, the > discoverer, with Martin Hellman, of public-key encryption, cornerstone of > the libertarian worldview in which technology protects the individual from > the reach of goverment. He stands now before the audience with his neat > gray beard, shoulder-length blond hair and sudden uncontained enthusiasm. > "Librarians!" he exclaims. "I'm thrilled with this award." > > He goes on to say he was not involved in the judging; this is the first > moment he has learned of it. And now that he thinks of it, those wonderful > librarians of his childhood, the ones who helped him when he was working > on his dissertation -- yes! Librarians! > > "I wouldn't have thought to give this award," he declaims in the full > throes of the convert's confession. "Therefore it comes as a revelation." > > All those invisible, dedicated civil servants. Mostly working for > government. In public libraries. Paid for by taxes. Diffie stands there > with arms out. He is truly, naively, nakedly, unabashedly amazed to > consider it. The whole libertarian edifice crumbles as he looks at it. > Revelation. > > - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - > > But this is more than a startled, unguarded moment. The next day, in a > speech he gives at lunch, Diffie reveals the depth of his conversion. > > "Everyone stop eating," he begins, and indeed we should, for what we are > about to hear is akin to the more common story of a middle-aged person, > communist in his youth, who grows more conservative as he grows older, > renounces his youthful beliefs -- except we will hear it in reverse, right > to left. > > He signals it all right away. "Crypto was a security technique that didn't > require trusting anyone else," Diffie says. "Now it turns out you have to > trust other people." He was younger, he seems to say, he had ideas, he was > wrong. "I had a very mathematical and very inapplicable idea about > authentication." And there it is: an implicit rejection of the Gilmore-ian > ideal of trust in physics and mathematics. Like Stephenson, like the > reluctant Zimmermann, like the unhappy Berners-Lee, the father of public > key encryption has come to the conclusion that software may reduce the > amount of trust you need in human beings, but as one moves about in the > world, the sense of security, privacy and autonomy turns out to be "a > function of social structures," as Diffie says. > > So far, Diffie has gone from being a techno-libertarian to a > standard-issue social democrat -- a remarkable move, if not a remarkable > place to wind up. But he is not done. > > What has sparked his conversion, it seems, is the recentralization of > computing: how we have moved from the centrally controlled timesharing > system, to the autonomous powerful desktop PC, to the networked computer, > and thence -- sidetracked through the network computer and the "thin > client" -- somehow back to the dumb terminal. He foresees how knowledge > workers will lose their autonomy by being forced to use such slavish > machines; how they can become mere objects of surveillance by the > companies they work for, as a result of "corporate imperialism over its > workers." > > Is there something wrong with the microphone? Is he talking about > imperialism? Yes, and on he goes, ever leftward. He can foresee a day when > workers, doing their jobs from the "convenience" of their homes, are > forced to be subject to "spot inspections" by their employers, a time when > the home is effectively turned into an occupied zone where corporations > exercise power over their property. > > What shall we desperate knowledge workers do? Organize! We need "the rise > of labor again," says Diffie, former crypto-believer. "We need to tighten > up the relationships among knowledge workers," he says, "and bargain as a > whole." > > I can't believe what I am hearing. > > - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - > > The conference ends with a session on "diversity" -- and again, one is > startled to find this at CFP, former home ground of crypto-anarchists and > techno-libertarians. On the podium is Greg Bishop of TheStreet.com, one of > only two African-Americans on the entire conference program, perhaps the > only one attending CFP. He is telling us how the black people he knows are > amazed he uses a computer -- they believe that once you plug it in, the > government knows everything about you. The audience goes on to question > the homogeneity of the conference itself -- why there are so few young > people, blacks and women in attendance, and indeed in the leadership of > the technological world. The culture wars have come to CFP. > > And why not? The Internet, with its vast public acceptance, letting people > who have never even seen a piece of code do everything from buy a car to > search for lovers, can hardly be considered a purely technological system > anymore. The Net has become a social space, and it is perhaps right that > the practices of programmers -- the small group in isolation -- no longer > pertain. We've come to the messy part that very senior programmers get to > avoid: the part where the system has moved beyond the "new" and > "dreamed-up" stage. Where it is successful -- that is, it has users, > millions of them, with all their conflicting needs and desires, and only > the messy, horrid, compromised, wonderful, exhausting processes of > democratic social discourse can sort them all out. > > After the conference is all over, it's fun to sit with Bruce Umbaugh, > philosopher and member of the CFP organizing committee, and imagine the > sort of happy chaos that can happen at the event next year. We'll invite > the UAW! We'll invite the Boeing engineers, knowledge workers who have > organized themselves for the first time -- and won! There'll be online > dykes and gangsta Napster rappers. There'll be kids and students and > mothers and just about anything else you can think of. And why not? When > we said the Internet represented a "revolution," we meant it -- didn't we? > > > > # distributed via <nettime>: no commercial use without permission > # <nettime> is a moderated mailing list for net criticism, > # collaborative text filtering and cultural politics of the nets > # more info: [EMAIL PROTECTED] and "info nettime-l" in the msg body > # archive: http://www.nettime.org contact: [EMAIL PROTECTED] -- Sent to you via the frendz list at marsbard.com The archive is at http://www.mail-archive.com/[email protected]/
