Telecom & Technology

This is the premier episode of The Sidebar, the weekly podcast from the New America Foundation that looks at what's in and what's underlying the news. This week, host Pamela Chan talks with Tamar Jacoby, Katherine Zoepf and Dan Meredith about Syria, privacy and immigration.

Editor’s Note: Contributors to this post will be part of a panel on the topic taking place on Thursday, February 9th in Washington, D.C. Sign up for the event here. This post is part of the Global Innovation Showcase created by the New America Foundation and the Global Public Square.

The other day, while I was rummaging through a stack of oldish articles on the future of the Internet, an obscure little essay from 1998 — published, of all places, on a Web site called Ceramics Today — caught my eye. Celebrating the rise of the “cyberflâneur,” it painted a bright digital future, brimming with playfulness, intrigue and serendipity, that awaited this mysterious online type. This vision of tomorrow seemed all but inevitable at a time when “what the city and the street were to the Flâneur, the Internet and the Superhighway have become to the Cyberflâneur.”

Twitter, it is said, has become evil. The company announced at the end of last week that it would censor tweets on a country-by-country basis. If a government really doesn’t like your hundred and forty characters, Twitter may white them out. Tweetavists reacted with outrage and warned darkly of unreported massacres in Syria. A #twitterblackout protest was organized.

With mobile phones spreading like wildfire in developing countries, they are becoming vital tools in the fight to improve health, educational and economic outcomes for aspiring families around the world (as we have pointed out in a variety of contexts). A recent World Economic Forum report, “Big Data, Big Impact: New Possibilities for International Development,” highlights some of the amazing potential and remaining challenges in the field.

It may surprise anyone under 16, but even before the advent of social networking we faced threats to our privacy. A hospital accidentally releasing patient records or a shady marketing firm engaging in Stasi-like data collection — such violations were substantial enough and disturbing enough to make the evening news. Today, however, the “death of privacy” is more like death by a thousand cuts: information leaks out slowly and invisibly, and so routinely that we’re hardly shocked when it does.

Last week, millions of Americans stood up against the Stop Online Piracy Act and the Senate's related anti-piracy bill. Given the public outcry, it is not surprising that all four Republican presidential candidates have come out against them.

But online censorship in the name of fighting piracy is only one of many issues affecting Americans' digital freedom. Americans who care about their online freedoms should also be asking tough questions about the government's expanding surveillance powers.

In late 2010, on the eve of the Arab Spring uprisings, a Tunisian blogger asked Egyptian activist Alaa Abdel Fattah what democratic nations should do to help cyber­activists in the Middle East. Abdel Fattah, who had spent time in jail under Hosni Mubarak’s regime, argued that if Western democracies wanted to support the region’s Internet activists, they should put their own houses in order. He called on the world’s democracies to “fight the troubling trends emerging in your own backyards” that “give our own regimes great excuses for their own actions.”

In its early days, the Web was often imagined as a global clearinghouse—a new type of library, with the sum total of human knowledge always at our fingertips. That much has happened—but with a twist: In addition to borrowing existing items from its vast collections, we, the patrons, could also deposit our own books, pamphlets and other scribbles—with no or little quality control.

A compelling picture is definitely worth the proverbial thousand words for explaining new kinds of wireless networks – especially when that picture appears alongside comprehensible technical information. And yet our choices about visual and written language say a lot about just who we expect to participate in building, using and maintaining networks. Complex diagrams run the risk of confusing audiences of potential community network participants, especially if graphics are abstract or surrounded by technical details and jargon.