Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Anonymous, Eponymous, Pseudonymous: What's in a Name?

So, what excuse do I have for starting this blog last Monday and then not posting for a week? Er, just giving Google's squiddies time to find me, perhaps. It sounds good anyway. Being found is becoming more and more like, well, being, isn't it? Being ungooglable is worse than being anonymous, or maybe just the same thing; and being eponymous is just like being John Malkovich, at least in the scene where we go inside his head and everything says "Malkovich... Malkovich... Malkovich". No one can ever be 100% anonymous (as Eliot Spitzer just found out), or really eponymous (" 'Tony Alterman', the Google search result of the human being by the same name...") or synonymous with just about anything except perhaps your DNA code. And the last thing many people want today is to see "No results found for [your name here]." But there was a time, believe me, when people felt differently; say oh, about 7 or 8 years ago...

Not long after 9/11/01, every company that had any claim on imaging technology was trying to jump into the biometric identification fray, hoping to make a killing on terror (terrible pun intended). Not that the technology was anywhere near the task of correctly picking a known terrorist out of a crowd; but it sounded like the answer to our hopes and dreams of feeling safe again. Yet already, the prospect of having our imaged body parts encoded on ID cards and distributed to vendors of everything from burritos to airline tickets, was causing anxiety among those who did not want to see the tragedy of 2001 turned into an excuse to create the society of 1984. What happens to the right to privacy when the proliferation of biometric imaging turns your fingerprint, your face, your hand geometry and your DNA into commodities that can be demanded for identification, not to mention exchanged like social security numbers for fun and profit?


Sun Microsystems was one such company that was quick to rush in with an airport identification scheme. Bill Joy, cofounder of Sun, and a culturally sophisticated individual who is always ready with a pithy philosophical comment, was quoted as saying that we need new mechanisms to "govern privacy while at the same time resetting expectations about civil liberties"; and that "I'm for the right to privacy but not necessarily the right to anonymity". Now, let's ignore the crack about "resetting expections about civil liberties" so that Sun can more effectively market its products. My interest is more in the distinction between "privacy" and "anonymity" that is being drawn here. What exactly do they mean, in this context?

Suppose I am presenting myself in person to other individuals, who represent commercial or governmental interests, and to get what I want from them (an airline ticket, access to my bank account, or a burrito, for instance) I have to present some image - in abstract mathematical form, of course, since biometric id's are not stored as images but as points in a mathematical landscape - but it represents something that is supposed to be uniquely me. Is the idea supposed to be that what I give up here is just my anonymity, and not my privacy?

I think it is quite the opposite. When I am required to let someone do a digital scan of my face in order to get through the security check, so far as I can tell, I have not yet given up my anonymity - the staff who determine whether I passed the test don't even have to have my name, at least in theory, or any other identifying information about me whatsoever - but I think my privacy has surely been compromised, as I have already given up for public use and consumption the very thing I thought was sacrosanct, control over my own body. No, I am not in chains nor have I been tortured or otherwise subjected to pain or serious discomfort. Nevertheless, the details of what makes me unique as a human being were not simply copied, in their superficial aspect, for art or amusement, but were demanded, scanned, anlayzed, encoded, and stored in a database. I used to think that it's my damn business, thanks very much, whether you should know anything more about my body than I care to make visible in public. So much for that idea. (If you think this is just idle fussing, wait until the day it is discovered that some biometric information can be used to detect some disease or deformity that you'd rather not disclose.)

Now, what about anonymity? Most likely, that's gone too. It's gone in more or less the same way that it would be if I were required to carry around an RFID chip with my name and SSN encoded on it. (No surprise that these are two competing ideas for the design of the driver's license of the future.) Once I offer my fingerprints to the burrito place to scan, they can connect them with my name and other personal info. Why? Well, maybe I just give it to them to enter into their database. But all I really have to do is allow them to associate the biometric image with a credit card number, from which Bob's Burrito can glean everything from my name to my home address for the last 12 years (at least if they're willing to pay enough for it). And of course with the EZPass-like airport card, the very point is to identify me. When the FBI or the Police Department sets up security cameras that can scan faces in a crowd and compare them with a database of known criminals or terrorists, the point, again, is to identify not merely the face but the name and background of the individual. So, really, anonymity is out the door too.

Now, all of this is just a bit of a preliminary to some recent discussions about anonymity and the Internet, for example, this piece by Andrew Kean. Kean is a fairly widely published technology writer, but his opinion piece here is not exactly a paradigm of subtlety or measured judgment. His subject is "The Curse of Internet Anonymity", and though he states that the issue " is actually a lot more complicated than it first appears" he does not really treat it as very complicated at all. Children, who he refers to as "Generation Facebook", are taught "to lie about who they are". Parents collaborate in this to protect kids from "the social scum –- the sexual predators, the financial scammers, the con artists, the bullies, and the gossips –- who are corrupting the Internet with their criminality, perversions, and incivility". Aside from lumping together sexual predators and "gossips" he manages to throw in a barb at people who use music-sharing sites for "killing the recorded music industry"! (If someone is in the midst of committing suicide as they are rapidly dying from a terminal disease, doesn't poisoning them count as euthanasia?) Kean does not fail to remind us that "real lives have been wrecked by the evil actions of anonymous Internet users" and that "vulgar and irresponsible anonymous Internet users are souring public discourse", etc. You get the general tenor of it.

There certainly has been a lot of bruhaha about anonymity lately, but IMHO it is almost all just as misplaced as Joy's comment. That is because, if there is a problem about anonymity, it is the lack of it that should trouble us, not it's alleged proliferation. People are not anonymous when they use a pseudonym; they are pseudonymous, which is hardly an offense. Until the Internet age, no one ever called anyone on the carpet for adopting a pseudonym or going by two different names. Cicero and Tully turn out to be the same guy, Mark Twain is exposed as really Samuel Clemens, Marian Evans turns out to have paraded as George Eliot - get out the torch let's burn their books, let's throw darts at their effigies; beter yet, let's delete their Wikipedia entries! Does it sound ludicrous? Okay. So that's what I think of this garbage about anonymity. There is nothing wrong with adopting a psuedonym, and never has been. I adopted one on my first blog; now I don't, but I respect anyone's right to do so.

People have all sorts of reasons for not wanting their written words to be associated with their live persona. Picture this: a guy writes a novel full of all sorts of passages that are loosely based on the intimate details of his relationship with his wife. But he has children, some of them still young, but old enough to read his book. Feeling that in spite of the fictionality of many of the passages his children would be shocked at the recognizable connection with their mother, he decides to publish under a different name, which he will protect carefully from being publicly associated with him. That's one example; let your imagination run wild and think of others.

People have the right to be pseudonymous. All other things being equal, people have the right not to be directly associated with what they write; what counts is the content of what is written, not the authorship relation itself. Someone who writes a book exposing certain people as mafia members or corrupt law enforcement personnel may go to great lengths to keep his identity secret. Not only Marian Evans in the 19th c. but Wendy Carlos in the 20th adopted false names and hid their identities because they feared not being taken seriously if they went public as women. Whether they were right or not, it is clear that the moral weight for their contemporaries lay in protecting their pseudonyms, not outing them.

Publishing under a false name is not too different from being anonymous. But it is a little different: for "Anonymous", the most popular author in history, can publish an endless number of pieces which can only be linked together forensically; whereas "Joachim Pumpernickel" can, at least in principle, become a unique authorial persona, just not one that is tied to a known individual. This is another way in which the current flap about "anonymity" is off the mark. Someone who writes a blog or publishes reviews on Amazon under the name "Plexiglas" (made it up - apologies if there is anyone who actually does) can have a style, personality, history - in effect, an identity - over time, such that if they forget to sign one of their posts someone might conceivably be able to say, "Oh, that sounds like something Plexiglas would have said". (There was - is? - a mathematical group that published under the name "Bourbaki", though there was no person by that name in the group. "Bourbaki" had an identifiable perspective on mathematics. The name was apparently that of a French army officer.)

Psudonymous bloggers and posters are not violating anyone's trust, nor are they necessarily exercising undue caution or obscurity. People have a right to privacy, and they have a right to participate in public forums at the same time. I should be able to walk into a crowd without having my face scanned and matched with a biometric database. I should be able to speak in public without telling everyone my real name. Not being a criminal, nor having malicious intent, I should be able to use any name I want, or none, when doing so does not in itself harm anyone. When I say "in itself", I am comparing it with, for instance, someone who signs someone else's name on a check, or falsely prefixes "Dr." to his name, or claims to be a different person so he can get a second (third, fourth...) marriage license or access to additional government benefits. This is spoofing, or just plain fraud, for here, deceiving someone about the name is to deceive them about your entitlement to certain social benefits that you are not, in fact, entitled to. This sort of person does not want anonymity either; they want a false name. Their real name only matters insofar as it can help prosecute them. But they can be prosecuted under any name.

In the cases that Mr. Kean mentions - the woman who caused a little girl to commit suicide after pretending to be her friend, people whose reputations or sexual orientation are made the object of assault or derision in popular electronic forums - anonymity has nothing to do with the issue. Suppose the writers were named Jane Smith, John Brown and Bill Jones, and they posted their names; how would this make a difference? They would not be anonymous, but the moral problem with their obscure poisoned pen letters would be the same. Or, suppose they had easily identifiable names - wouldn't this be worse? Because at least some people would have the sense to write off the accusations of an obviously pseudonymous writer, or to take them with a grain of salt, whereas if people see a name that looks easily identifiable they are likely to give more credence to the allegations.

Objection: "But at least if you can identify them you can hold them responsible for their actions." Depends who "them" is here, because you can hold "the author of that particular nasty post" responsible for their actions too (this is called a "definite description", in the language of philosophy), though you don't know who it is that wrote it. Anonymity is never enough; people can be easily tracked down, too easily, from a single comment on a message board to a live human being in the back room of a fourth floor walk-up in Baltimore. Our lack or anonymity is scary. What is scary about the nasty creatures in cyberspace is not their anonymity, but their irresponsibility. They think they are safe from suffering the consequences of their actions, or indeed they desire bad consequences for the victim, and think they will not endure anything similar themselves. But it is not the fact that they fail to announce their names that makes their actions wrong. What is wrong is equally so whether they state their names, regular pseudonyms, ephemeral screen names or just post Anonymously. The post was, after all, written by a person, the same person regardless of the name(s) they use. They may be difficult to physically track down whether they are anonymous or not. Once they have been tracked down, they can be held accountable.

The anonymity issue is a red herring. A jerk is a jerk (that's eponymous, I think) - let someone use their name, a different name, no name, or ten names, what counts in the problem cases is that they are venal and cowardly, not that they are anonymous. I would bet there are hundreds of people named George Bush around the world. Let them all sign their posts "George Bush" - someone is sure to scream "anonymous blogger!", "spoofer!" etc. maybe we should all change our names to George Bush (please, whatever you're about to do, don't do it on your computer...) - then the anonymity business will go away and we can turn our attention to the people behind the names.

Indeed, multipseudonymity can be far more devastating than anonymity; one malicious individual can present as a whole community, and mount an attack on someone who feels the burden of agreement among several apparent authors. The unethical nature of this is clearly not tied to mudslinging alone. Suppose the owner of a bed and breakfast periodically logs into a popular travel site from a different email address and posts glowing reviews of their shabby, mildewy, boarding house. No one was dissed. But everyone has potentially been deceived, misled. Suppose the owner used her real name in one of these reviews; would it make a difference? Would people do enough research to figure out that it was the owner herself writing? Again, names in cyberspace are generally pretty meaningless, except for widely known personalities (and even then there's the George Bush problem, but I'll let that rest).

Anonymity makes no difference. The real problems have been around forever: deception, cruelty, dishonesty, irresponsibility. The author of a plagiarized book or term paper is more dishonest in their use of a name, and their actions more reprehensible, than any "anonymous" instant message user who does not deceive but merely hides their identity. Deceiving the person(s) on the receiving end of a communication is unethical, not because you hide your name but because you deceive. Dragging people's names through the dirt is obnoxious behavior, and doing it "anonymously" is cowardly behavior; hurting people intentionally is immoral, and doing it through anonymous posts, like spraypainting "Jill is a lesbian" on the side of the school, is disgusting. Anonymity is not new, and is in fact a right that we must hold on to. The fact that it can assist one in doing harm should not blind us to the value of this right. When anonymity goes out the door, so does privacy, to an extent, and the ability to exercise free speech and speak unpleasant truths without suffering evil consequences. Let's identify the problem correctly and stop moaning about anonymity, before the loss of it turns around and bites us in our virtual behinds.

Monday, March 3, 2008

Please Ignore This Headline About Cyber Attacks

While we wait for Wikileaks.org to come back online (unfortunately, reports of its rebirth are greatly exaggerated), the U.S. Air Force has partly filled the gap by leaking all sorts of interesting headlines in a mock-front-page full page ad in today's NY Times. Here's a sample:

This Could be a Headline About Cyber Attack Causing a Blackout
No, the text does not say that Wikileaks was blacked out by a DOS cyber attack, prior to a fire and then a court order shutting it down. Nor does it refer to the December 28 report of a lost Air Force laptop containing Social Security numbers and other information on more than 10,000 military personnel. Oh no, they are talking about serious stuff: a cyber attack on the government of Estonia in 2007. According to the pseudo-article, "today, America's military and government computers will be threatened by three million malicious code attacks. [Where did they get this number?] You don't see headlines about these attacks because none have caused the chaos they intended. Thankfully, someone saw them coming." Not, I guess, the guy who missed the hacker who grabbed 33,000 records from and Air Force computer on August 22, 2005. Not to mention all the other DOD data breaches and media losses and whatnot. Can't blame the sky guys for what the boat guys lose, can we?

New About a Rogue Leader Making Threats Could Go Here
No, this is not about George W. Bush threatening to bomb Iran or Israel threatening to knock of the next Hezbollah leader by firing rockets into Lebanon, or anything like that. It's about "rebel leaders" who "spew anti-American rhetoric". Right, we need the USAF to deal with the guys in the jungles of Columbia or the or the Sudan desert. "Little known fact" - I love this one - "no modern war has ever been won without air dominance." So, the Vietcong had "air dominance"? Interesting.

Or a Breaking Story on the Latest Terrorist Threat
Well, yes, they got this one right. Only eight pages later (A13) it's right there in b&w: "Utah Home Is Searched for Evidence in Ricin Case". This is about the guy who was found with vials of the deadly poison Ricin in a Las Vegas hotel. How close is that to the Nellis Air Force Base (part of the Air Force's huge, extremely high-security Nevada Test and Training Range? Oh, about 9.7 miles, according to Google Maps! Hey, I'd be worried too!

Well, thanks, USAF, for making me feel more secure with this ad. Just one question: does the timing of this have anything to do with your recently publicized contract for (at least) $40 billion for refueling tankers, which drew congressional ire because you awarded it partly to the European parent of Airbus? Are you trying to win our hearts and minds over for this expenditure of our tax dollars, which reportedly could rise to as much as $100 billion? Are you by any chance trying to wipe out those careless thoughts of schools, health care, affordable housing, and - er, computers? - and other programs which could be funded nationally for the price of your refueling tankers, by raising the spectre of cyber attacks, terrorism and "rogue leaders"? I hope not. Because scaring people in order to get them to support your political goals is generally considered unethical.

If "terrorism" is necessarily pursued by violent means, perhaps we need a just slightly milder term for this sort of nonsense, but I don't have one at hand at the moment. Any suggestions?

Monday, February 25, 2008

Blogito Ergo Sum

"I think, therefore I am... I think..." So went the neo-Cartesian wisdom of the Moody Blues, circa 1971. The pillar of the famous philosopher's quest for certainty was thereby subverted, and replaced with the age-appropriate degree of uncertainty and relativism; appropriate, that is, to the questioning of authority and tradition that came in the wake of the social upheavals, cultural changes and mind-altering drugs of the late 1960's and early 70's.

"Of course you are, my bright little star! And now to suit our Great Computer, you're... Magnetic Ink!" Ouch! What a swift kick in the shins to the glassy-eyed optimism of a generation that planned on changing the world into a global village - the Woodstock variety of village, that is, not, of course, featureless banality of Peyton Place, much less the kind later imagined as the quiet, dystopic horror of Twin Peaks.A specter was haunting that idealistic vision, one that was well recognized by some of its own prophets (like Marcuse and Alvin Toffler): the spectre of technology. "Back to the land!" we cried, as if there were victory even in retreat. Well, that response did have its positive outcomes, like organic farming, an acoustic music revival, and an appreciation of cultures otherwise marginalized as "primitive". But it also had its limitations. In partciular, technology had about as much respect for the "Wooden Ships" attitude ("we are leaving... you don't need us") as kudzu has for weed killer. Its growth has a logic of its own, and if you merely wave goodbye and try to walk away you may just turn around and trip over an ethernet cable.

"I'm more than that... at least, I think I must be." And so we quickly became aware that the problem required somewhat deeper consideration. And indeed, as we looked around, we noticed that it had already received some attention, not only from the camp of Marx and his Frankfurt school offshoots, or John Dewey, but from such politically unlikely allies as Heidegger and Nietzsche. It is nevertheless notable how few of the major philosophers after Hegel took the trouble to talk specifically about technology and its meaning or social impact. The threat and management of technology was already perhaps the primary focus of the science fiction genre well before the 1960's, but as usual, the novelists were way ahead of the philosophers. But as the computer revolution unfolded, and the impact of digital technology spread first to every imaginable kind of electronic device, and then to the very way we interact with one another socially; as both the promise and the threat of the network society began to come into focus; as people began to wonder what would happen to privacy, to manual know-how, to language, to society itself, the occasional commentary exploded into a raging river of words, By the time the public availability of the Internet came along, there had already been more written on the subject than most people could digest in a lifetime.

Since then, for anyone who follows this debate, the meaning and status of technology in society has been the subject of countless tomes, thousands of articles, and millions of web offerings. As seems to be the nature of things in general, it was the growth of technology itself that provided the best means for questioning that growth and mounting a defense of values perceived to be threatened by it. There are at least a couple dozen web sites
run by organizations devoted solely to the study and critique of technology's impact on society. For some the focus is on privacy issues; for others, digital rights and copyright; security breaches and information control form another major area of concern. There are sites devoted to the ethics of biometric identification systems, sites that examine robotics and artificial intelligence, lots of attention to the impact of technology on the environment, and of course, innumerable discussions and resources which turn on issues at the intersection of digital and medical technology, or bioethics. (The latter of course providing an inspiration for the title of this blog.)

On Tuesday, the day of the last scheduled debate between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, the New York Times ran an article in which they asked several commentators to come up with previously unanswered questions for the debate.
Christine Rosen, who is identified as "a fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center and a senior editor of The New Atlantis: A Journal of Technology and Society", came up with several questions about Internet and Blackberry usage and their effects on the candidates and on society. Needless to say, these are not the questions that were asked by the moderators of the debate. But we have reached the stage - indeed, we had reached it in the last election - where it would be far from startling to have presidential candidates interrogated about their views on the impact of technology in society. Indeed, though there were 19 previous debates (none of which I watched) it would be very unfortunate if any future president were elected without having to voice an opinion on at least digital privacy issues, ecommerce policy, and the social impact of technology. It is time that this country had a software policy, a hardware policy, a network security policy, and an Internet policy, at least, but since we do not even have an industrial or science policy worthy of the name, that is unlikely to happen soon. (Having a policy does not have to mean clubbing technology users into submission, but can often be a matter of promoting best practices by providing incentives, examples, training, and the like.) Nonetheless, the time is clearly upon us when everyone, including presidential candidates, can hardly avoid considering technology policy. The task is to put it up there with the more traditional foreign and domestic policy issues. Right now, there are a million small voices shouting from various corners of the political and geographical spectrum about the use and abuse of technology, but very little of a positive nature happening on the national scale.

In starting this blog, I add yet another squeak to the chorus of quiet noise from Whoville. "Why?", you undoubtedly ask. Part of my answer is in the title of this post. I am already the author of two other blogs (which I shall not promote here, but one concerns the arts and public policy, and the other cognitive science and the philosophy of mind). I have been writing commentary in one form or other, some of it published but much of it not, since I was in high school. Now, after 25 years as a computer professional, nearly 20 years as a student and teacher of philosophy, having published and taught a bit on technology and ethics, I have come to have sufficient familiarity with the subject to think I might conceivably have something interesting to say; or if not, at least sufficient interest to want to explore it more deeply. Then why not write a book, you ask? Okay, if anyone is really inclined to ask that, the answer is, I am. I'm writing a book in public, so to speak. The journals and notes of many a philosopher and author have been published. This one can be too, if you wish. But here it is self-published. I am all for peer review and editorial oversight, but writing a blog does not preclude this. It simply gets copy in front of an audience more immediately, and there is a lot of value in that. Part of the value is purely personal: I don't have to wait for someone to assess whether my voice is worth hearing. If it is not, the market will judge, but in any case I can keep talking as long as I want, with the only loss being a few square microns of space on a silicon chip as my ravings are stored on one of Google's servers. But there is also a value for democracy in general (too obvious to explicate) and for society, in having a more immediate record of how people react to ethical questions than the highly refined and formally constrained record of journal articles or professional books. "Information wants to be free", the old slogan goes (from the days when Wired was more interested in exploring moral and social questions than in hooking clients for ads from every luxury car company in the universe). So do ideas, as "meme" theorists have impressed upon us. Blogging lets ideas circulate without much hindrance.

In what follows I hope to explore ethical issues in technology and bring to them something of both the philosopher's critical eye as well as the writer's flair (if I have any flair, but reading over some of my other blog posts, I think I have at least a little). And with any luck I hope my readers will join me and make this a much wider forum than the opinions of one individual can provide. There are many blogs in which these issues are addressed from time to time, but I think there is value in having an ongoing discussion of this subject alone. Not that I claim to be the first. Let's just see if this doesn't add up to some kind of worthwhile contribution to debates that cna alter the nature of our society and ourselves.