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Game Dev Tycoon teaches a lesson about pirating games
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By Joe Jasko| May 1, 2013 |



 









Game Dev Tycoon is a fun new simulation game about managing your very own video game development company, and the first release by a studio called Greenheart Games. But like any game on the market these days, the $8 title was at risk of internet piracy the moment it was released. So in order to combat the expected piracy head on, the developers intentionally created a cracked version of the real game, and uploaded it to torrent sites themselves the same day of Game Dev Tycoon’s release. What better way to combat piracy than by giving an interactive lesson on how stealing games can harm a developer?
But the creative minds at Greenheart Games had a more ingenious way of punishing the pirates instead of just telling them that their copy of the game was illegal. Patrick Klug of Greenheart Games outlined the devious plan and the community’s response on the developer’s blog, amidst a heartfelt plea to buy the games that you enjoy and to support independent developers.
For the first few hours of gameplay, the cracked version of Game Dev Tycoon plays just like the genuine game does. But then here’s where things get interesting: once players have gotten their development company off the ground, the game will gradually send Sales Report notifications to inform you that consumers have begun to illegally download your products. It warns the gamer that, “If players don’t buy the games they like, we will sooner or later go bankrupt.”
Following these messages, the player’s funds are slowly dwindled away until they are forced to close their company doors: a very real possibility for game developers today who can’t afford to stay afloat from lack of genuine purchases. Within one minute after posting the fake version of Game Dev Tycoon to a popular torrent site, Klug already found people downloading the game on PC, Mac, and Linux platforms. To put this into a broader perspective, after the first day of the game’s release, only 214 users had legally purchased the genuine version, while a whopping 3,104 users had downloaded the cracked one.
Gamers quickly flocked to the Greenheart Games forums in exasperation, after realizing they could no longer progress in the game because so many people had pirated their titles and drained away their funds. One unidentified user who had illegally pirated Game Dev Tycoon commented: “Why are there so many people that pirate? It ruins me!” The delicious irony was not lost on Klug and his cohorts at Greenheart Games.
Klug says the Game Dev Tycoon stunt was a unique opportunity given the subject matter of the game, but still dances around the subject of whether he will ever do something like this again. He did, however, end his post with one discomforting thought as to why so many users might be tempted to pirate games and other illegal software in the first place: “Customers get the trouble with always-on requirements and intrusive DRM, while pirates can just download and enjoy. A twisted world.”
So what do you make of Greenheart Games’ ironic message to internet pirates? If these illegal downloaders are more inconvenienced in games than paying customers are, could piracy show any signs of slowing down soon?

Game Dev Tycoon teaches a lesson about pirating games

By Joe Jasko| May 1, 2013 |

Game Dev Tycoon is a fun new simulation game about managing your very own video game development company, and the first release by a studio called Greenheart Games. But like any game on the market these days, the $8 title was at risk of internet piracy the moment it was released. So in order to combat the expected piracy head on, the developers intentionally created a cracked version of the real game, and uploaded it to torrent sites themselves the same day of Game Dev Tycoon’s release. What better way to combat piracy than by giving an interactive lesson on how stealing games can harm a developer?

But the creative minds at Greenheart Games had a more ingenious way of punishing the pirates instead of just telling them that their copy of the game was illegal. Patrick Klug of Greenheart Games outlined the devious plan and the community’s response on the developer’s blog, amidst a heartfelt plea to buy the games that you enjoy and to support independent developers.

For the first few hours of gameplay, the cracked version of Game Dev Tycoon plays just like the genuine game does. But then here’s where things get interesting: once players have gotten their development company off the ground, the game will gradually send Sales Report notifications to inform you that consumers have begun to illegally download your products. It warns the gamer that, “If players don’t buy the games they like, we will sooner or later go bankrupt.”

Following these messages, the player’s funds are slowly dwindled away until they are forced to close their company doors: a very real possibility for game developers today who can’t afford to stay afloat from lack of genuine purchases. Within one minute after posting the fake version of Game Dev Tycoon to a popular torrent site, Klug already found people downloading the game on PC, Mac, and Linux platforms. To put this into a broader perspective, after the first day of the game’s release, only 214 users had legally purchased the genuine version, while a whopping 3,104 users had downloaded the cracked one.

Gamers quickly flocked to the Greenheart Games forums in exasperation, after realizing they could no longer progress in the game because so many people had pirated their titles and drained away their funds. One unidentified user who had illegally pirated Game Dev Tycoon commented: “Why are there so many people that pirate? It ruins me!” The delicious irony was not lost on Klug and his cohorts at Greenheart Games.

Klug says the Game Dev Tycoon stunt was a unique opportunity given the subject matter of the game, but still dances around the subject of whether he will ever do something like this again. He did, however, end his post with one discomforting thought as to why so many users might be tempted to pirate games and other illegal software in the first place: “Customers get the trouble with always-on requirements and intrusive DRM, while pirates can just download and enjoy. A twisted world.”

So what do you make of Greenheart Games’ ironic message to internet pirates? If these illegal downloaders are more inconvenienced in games than paying customers are, could piracy show any signs of slowing down soon?

Google Reader’s demise is awful for Iranians, who use it to avoid censorship. By Zachary M. Seward

Google’s announcement that it’s killing off Google Reader, the company’s beloved, if not wildly popular, tool for consuming RSS feeds, was met with outrage from journalists and other, largely American nerds who rely on it to efficiently churn through blogs and other websites. But the real tragedy is likely to be felt in countries like Iran, where Google Reader is used to evade government censorship.

RSS readers take raw feeds of data—headline, text, timestamp, etc.—and display that information in a stripped-down interface along with many other feeds, which is what makes them so efficient. (Here is the RSS feed for Quartz.) Less obvious is how many RSS readers, including Google’s, serve as anti-censorship tools for people living under oppressive regimes. That’s because it’s actually Google’s servers, located in the US or another country with uncensored internet, that accesses each feed. So a web user in Iran just needs access to google.com/reader in order to read websites that would otherwise be blocked.
And, indeed, Google Reader has long been accessible in Iran, where it is the most popular RSS reader. Iran would probably have to block all of Google and its many popular services in order to keep its citizens from using Reader. YouTube, by contrast, is easier to censor, though it is also owned by Google, because the video site is located on its own domain, youtube.com. Reader is also harder, though not impossible, to block because it uses more secure technology known as HTTPS.
This is Reeder, an application for consuming RSS feeds, which currently uses Google Reader to fetch new data. It has vowed to figure out an alternative method.

There are many alternatives to Google Reader, but switching is a more complicated prospect for Iranians. Many RSS readers do work like Google’s—with the service’s own servers, rather than the user’s, fetching new data from across the web—but those would be much easier to block, if they gained any traction, without the protection afforded by the popularity of Google’s other services.
The Iranian government has occasionally blocked all of Google, most recently in September 2012, but always for a limited time. It’s not clear if Iran’s move toward a domestic version of the internet will affect access to google.com. Google also hasn’t said what it might do with the Google Feed API, which is a service for programmers to access RSS feeds, usually for display on other websites. If it sticks around, the Google Feed API would potentially allow someone to build a service that replicates some of Google Reader’s core features and still rely on Google’s domain to do it.
Iranian bloggers were vocal opponents of the changes Google made to Reader in 2011, when the ability to share individual stories with other users was removed. The shared items of certain heavily followed Iranians served as de facto newspapers free from the government’s censorship regime, gaining popularity after the 2009 elections led to uprisings in Iran. The next presidential election is this June.
“Such bad luck!” wrote Vahid HT, an Iranian, on Google+ today. “What does the internet without Google Reader look like?…What harm will come to the online world?” Another person wrote in response, “Really what Google is thinking is that all revolutionary ideas do not fit with their absurd ideas.”

Google Reader’s demise is awful for Iranians, who use it to avoid censorship. By Zachary M. Seward

While the world was quasi-agog last week over images of Google (NASDAQ:GOOG) chairman Eric Schmidt watching students at Kim Jong Il University utilizing his company’s search engine, it’s a safe bet they won’t be networking with potential employers after graduation.

A small slice of North Korean society may be permitted to access the Internet in limited ways (according to analysts, only a thousand or so of North Korea’s 25 million people can get online; the best most can do is view the country’s walled — and heavily restricted — intranet, where state-sponsored news is available). Expats living in-country (a small number of diplomats, NGO workers, and a tiny sprinkling of brave businesspeople; a 2005 census reported 124 foreign nationals residing in Pyongyang, a city of 2.1 million) are, however, able to get online via satellite — though even they face restrictions.

LinkedIn (NYSE:LNKD) blocked me when I listed my North Korean address — and I was not the only one,” Felix Abt, a Swiss entrepreneur who spent seven years living and doing business in North Korea, tells me.

Abt, co-founder of the Pyongyang Business School, former managing director of the Pyongsu Joint Venture Company, North Korea’s first-ever foreign-invested pharmaceutical enterprise, and author of the new book, A Capitalist in North Korea (Amazon Publishing Services, 2012), was unceremoniously booted from the site in 2009.

“Maybe LinkedIn’s legal department thought it was too risky or something,” Abt, now living — and working — in Nha Trang, Vietnam, says. “I don’t know.”

In fact, “as a matter of corporate policy,” LinkedIn does not allow “member accounts or access to our site from Cuba, Iran, North Korea, Sudan, or Syria” under the conditions of international sanctions imposed by the US Treasury Department’s Office of Foreign Assets Control. (LinkedIn is not alone; other major tech names such as Google, Yahoo (NASDAQ:YHOO), Microsoft (NASDAQ:MSFT), and Oracle (NASDAQ:ORCL) among others, also restrict access to their products from sanctioned countries, though one wonders if Eric Schmidt notified Google’s legal department that its products are being utilized at Kim Il Sung University.)

Abt’s book offers an extraordinary first-hand account of life in a place where it is almost impossible for outsiders to know what is actually happening on the ground. He could travel without being accompanied by official government minders, and (obviously) had daily contact with his North Korean staff at PyongSu — who impressed Abt as budding capitalists in a rigidly communist system.

“At the beginning, we had philosophical differences about how a business should be run,” Abt tells me. “The North Koreans were used to the socialist way of running a business. I was raised in a market economy.”

Abt’s first obstacle? Marketing.

“I explained that without it, we could never sell what we produce,” Abt tells me. “They would say, ‘No, no, in our country, nobody does that.’ Finally, I said, ‘Okay, let’s start manufacturing and see what happens.’ And nothing happened.”

With a warehouse full of product and no customers, Abt says his employees “started realizing, ‘Maybe he’s right.’”

“When it turned out that I knew what I was talking about, they started agreeing with me,” Abt continues. “Eventually, my staff started suggesting doing ‘Another advertising campaign, and another advertising campaign,’ and that was pretty amazing in itself.”

A Hermetically-Sealed Country? Not Quite.

A popular Western trope is that North Koreans are a robotic, brainwashed populace with little to no understanding of the outside world. Abt says this not true.

“I regularly took my staff to China for business, so they saw what was going on,” he explains. “I brought them to supermarkets, to restaurants; some went to the dentist or the doctor and saw how well-equipped, how well-organized, how competitive they had become — but also how expensive they were.”

Abt educated his employees on the finer points of consumerism before landing in China, describing them as “perhaps a little vulnerable.”

“The shop assistants can be very competitive and aggressive and the North Koreans are not used to this,” Abt says. “So I taught them, ‘Okay, they will set the price very high for you at the beginning, offer them half. When they say ‘no,’ walk away, they’ll call you back and go down a bit, and so forth.’ I must say, these guys learn fast.”

According to Abt, details of these experiences were quickly shared with other North Koreans via Pyongyang’s “bush telephone.”

“Of course they had to make reports to the authorities and security officials when they got home,” Abt tells me, “but they also showed their photos with friends and family. People communicate a lot; you read all these horrible stories and think the people are all afraid to talk to each other because somebody’s always watching, but I did not have this impression, really. Of course they are cautious, but not overly so.”

For this reason, Abt takes exception to reports claiming that the North Korean regime will collapse once information begins “trickling in.”

“If that were true, the system should have collapsed a long time ago,” Abt says. “People know quite well what is going on. From the South Korean soap operas they watch at home to foreign books they read at the university, there is always some information. It’s not a hermetically-sealed country, and it never has been.”

To be sure, North Korea’s reputation as one of the world’s most brutal dictatorships is well-deserved. The country reportedly detains between 150,000-200,000 political prisoners in a vast network of labor camps, though Abt avoids the topic in his book.

“There are surely gulags that may be horrible, but I didn’t come across them so I cannot write about anything I have not seen myself,” he explains.

A Middle Class Emerges

Though far from becoming a global beacon of freedom anytime soon, Abt says that, “by North Korean standards, there has been quite a practical change in society and the economy.”

“Most North Koreans today are involved in some kind of business, so they seem to have an income that allows them to buy their daily necessities in the markets,” Abt tells me. “The most important thing is that a middle class has emerged in the cities; in the countryside, there is more private farming going on — throughout North Korea, you can see plenty of farming going on on the slopes; the flatland is still reserved for the state-run farms.”

Today, the regime is slowly introducing a capitalist component to the agriculture sector.

“Workers on the state farms were promised last year that they will be allowed to sell up to 30% of their harvest to free markets at a premium,” Abt says. “Should that be realized, it’s the beginning of quite a big change, like early reforms in China and Vietnam.”

Is North Korea Now Open for Business?

Not quite. But Abt tells me he believes opening up to commerce has “become a more important priority” for the North Korean government over the past ten years.

“I’m getting a lot of proactive proposals from the North Koreans, which we haven’t experienced in the past, so there is quite a big change on that front,” Abt says. “My business partners in Pyongyang can use [file-sharing service] Dropbox, they can travel more often now, and more North Korean companies have been allowed, particularly in 2012, to interact with foreign ones.”

Still, obstacles exist for anyone seeking to do business in this most frontier of frontier markets.

Power cuts are frequent, infrastructure is crumbling, and sanctions remain strict. On the other hand, Abt says the hardships he encountered cemented deep personal bonds between him and his colleagues.

“We had to solve practical problems every day; it was a daily struggle that brought us close,” Abt recalls. “We worked hard together, but we also partied together, went to karaoke, had good dinners, went on excursions, and had fun together. I never had the feeling that I was an alien in their eyes or a potential enemy or a spy — the relationship was quite relaxed and friendly, driven by our joint goals.”


Abt and staff members celebrate International Women’s Day in Pyongyang (Photo: Felix Abt)

So, would he do it again?

“I like to go back from time to time to eat some good food and have a merry evening, but otherwise, of course, I am happy where I am now,” Abt says.


Pyongyang



Nha Trang

“Seven years is a long time.”

Photo: Aaron Swartz speaking at a rally against the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) in January 2012. Daniel Sieradski, via Wikimedia Commons
Why Aaron Swartz is becoming a martyr, and why you should care. By Gideon Lichfield
Martyrs tend to be made quickly, before the dust has settled on their lives, or their deaths. Such is the case with Aaron Swartz, a 26-year-old digital activist who apparently hanged himself at his home in New York City on Jan. 11. His family and friends say Swartz, who was prone to depression, felt hounded by prosecutors who were threatening him with up to 35 years in jail for computer hacking. Though Swartz was little known outside the circles of the geek world—and was hardly a celebrity even in internet terms, with a modest 7,000-odd followers on Twitter at the time of his death—there has been an outpouring of online tributes and media articles about him.

His rapid elevation to tragic folk hero is easy to understand when you look at his life. To those who knew him, Swartz was a kind of Arthur Rimbaud for the internet age: an impassioned, difficult, capricious, endearing, depressive boy genius who was doing foundational work by his mid-teens, and brought it to an end (albeit, in Rimbaud’s case, not by suicide) when barely an adult.
The long list of projects that made up his brief but astonishingly productive career (covered in detail elsewhere) were united by a fierce commitment to making knowledge as widely available as possible. His early work included helping develop the Creative Commons license, a form of copyright that lets authors make their work shareable and even modifiable while still keeping rights to it; later he launched a free online repository of books and campaigned against legislation that would have greatly empowered copyright holders at the expense of internet startups. The charges he faced for his latest escapade were 13 felony counts for the theft of online documents—not, as you might surmise, diplomatic cables or nuclear-weapon designs, but academic journal articles from an online archive, JSTOR, which he downloaded with the presumed goal of making them available for free, as he had previously done with a massive stash of US court records. The prosecution continued even though JSTOR withdrew its complaint and has since made itself largely free to the public anyway.
The troubled young prodigy with the free-thinking ideals, the heartless bureaucrats exercising absurd governmental overreach—all the elements of a good myth, and in particular a good American myth, are here. And not just because of the tragic arc of his own life. Swartz fills a particular slot in modern American left-wing iconography, one that was waiting for an occupant. His acts of radical document liberation echo those of Julian Assange, the founder of Wikileaks, and Bradley Manning, the American soldier believed to have sent Assange a trove of leaked US diplomatic cables (and whose trial begins in March.) But with Assange discredited and Manning’s motives unclear—and he did, after all, leak government secrets, not harmless academic papers or public records—Swartz represents a less tarnished ideal. As an icon for the information-freedom movement he perhaps serves the purpose that Daniel Ellsberg, the military analyst who leaked the Pentagon Papers (but is still very much alive), did for the press freedom and anti-war movement in the 1970s.
Not that Swartz’s friends and colleagues all agreed with some of his methods. They certainly did not agree with his killing himself, their sadness mixed with anger at him for throwing away his life and his potential. Nor are they all overjoyed at his sudden beatification. Swartz’s friend danah boyd, a researcher into internet culture and a digital activist herself, wrote:

I… fear the likelihood that Aaron will be turned into a martyr, an abstraction of a geek activist destroyed by the State. Because he was a lot more than that–lovable and flawed, passionate and strong-willed, brilliant and infuriatingly stupid. It’ll be easy for folks to rally cry for revenge in his name. But not much is gained from reifying the us vs. them game that got us here… I think we need to look for an approach to change-making that doesn’t result in brilliant people being held up as examples so that they can be tormented by power.

All movements that agitate for change make progress thanks to a mixture of radicals and moderates in their ranks. Swartz will be a martyr to some, and will inspire some young activists to commit extremist or foolhardy acts. It’s probably too late to stop that happening. But for the broader public, his death puts a human face to fundamental debates otherwise expressed largely in legalese and acronyms—SOPA, PIPA, PACER—about what sort of information society should be able to access without restriction. If his death helps makes those complex issues more widely understood, it will not have been entirely in vain—though if only he had stayed alive, he would undoubtedly have achieved far more.
Photo: Aaron Swartz speaking at a rally against the Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) in January 2012. Daniel Sieradski, via Wikimedia Commons

Why Aaron Swartz is becoming a martyr, and why you should care. By Gideon Lichfield

His rapid elevation to tragic folk hero is easy to understand when you look at his life. To those who knew him, Swartz was a kind of Arthur Rimbaud for the internet age: an impassioned, difficult, capricious, endearing, depressive boy genius who was doing foundational work by his mid-teens, and brought it to an end (albeit, in Rimbaud’s case, not by suicide) when barely an adult.

The long list of projects that made up his brief but astonishingly productive career (covered in detail elsewhere) were united by a fierce commitment to making knowledge as widely available as possible. His early work included helping develop the Creative Commons license, a form of copyright that lets authors make their work shareable and even modifiable while still keeping rights to it; later he launched a free online repository of books and campaigned against legislation that would have greatly empowered copyright holders at the expense of internet startups. The charges he faced for his latest escapade were 13 felony counts for the theft of online documents—not, as you might surmise, diplomatic cables or nuclear-weapon designs, but academic journal articles from an online archive, JSTOR, which he downloaded with the presumed goal of making them available for free, as he had previously done with a massive stash of US court records. The prosecution continued even though JSTOR withdrew its complaint and has since made itself largely free to the public anyway.

The troubled young prodigy with the free-thinking ideals, the heartless bureaucrats exercising absurd governmental overreach—all the elements of a good myth, and in particular a good American myth, are here. And not just because of the tragic arc of his own life. Swartz fills a particular slot in modern American left-wing iconography, one that was waiting for an occupant. His acts of radical document liberation echo those of Julian Assange, the founder of Wikileaks, and Bradley Manning, the American soldier believed to have sent Assange a trove of leaked US diplomatic cables (and whose trial begins in March.) But with Assange discredited and Manning’s motives unclear—and he did, after all, leak government secrets, not harmless academic papers or public records—Swartz represents a less tarnished ideal. As an icon for the information-freedom movement he perhaps serves the purpose that Daniel Ellsberg, the military analyst who leaked the Pentagon Papers (but is still very much alive), did for the press freedom and anti-war movement in the 1970s.

Not that Swartz’s friends and colleagues all agreed with some of his methods. They certainly did not agree with his killing himself, their sadness mixed with anger at him for throwing away his life and his potential. Nor are they all overjoyed at his sudden beatification. Swartz’s friend danah boyd, a researcher into internet culture and a digital activist herself, wrote:

I… fear the likelihood that Aaron will be turned into a martyr, an abstraction of a geek activist destroyed by the State. Because he was a lot more than that–lovable and flawed, passionate and strong-willed, brilliant and infuriatingly stupid. It’ll be easy for folks to rally cry for revenge in his name. But not much is gained from reifying the us vs. them game that got us here… I think we need to look for an approach to change-making that doesn’t result in brilliant people being held up as examples so that they can be tormented by power.

All movements that agitate for change make progress thanks to a mixture of radicals and moderates in their ranks. Swartz will be a martyr to some, and will inspire some young activists to commit extremist or foolhardy acts. It’s probably too late to stop that happening. But for the broader public, his death puts a human face to fundamental debates otherwise expressed largely in legalese and acronyms—SOPA, PIPA, PACER—about what sort of information society should be able to access without restriction. If his death helps makes those complex issues more widely understood, it will not have been entirely in vain—though if only he had stayed alive, he would undoubtedly have achieved far more.

Guns, unlike almost every other technology, are unique in that the more they improve, the less safe they become…The AR-15 shows how guns have become gadgets, thanks to technological change and an army of fanboys connected over the Internet. It’s a military weapon in the hands of civilians, so exquisitely designed that it might as well have been invented in Cupertino by Apple. It’s the iPhone 5 of guns, only instead of an app ecosystem, it has an ecosystem of parts and ammunition designed to make it as effective as possible.

Christopher Mims on how guns became gadgets

Why the world is arguing over who runs the internet. By Wendy M. Grossman



The ethos of freedom from control that underpins the web is facing its first serious test, says Wendy M. Grossman
WHO runs the internet? For the past 30 years, pretty much no one. Some governments might call this a bug, but to the engineers who designed the protocols, standards, naming and numbering systems of the internet, it’s a feature.
The goal was to build a network that could withstand damage and would enable the sharing of information. In that, they clearly succeeded - hence the oft-repeated line from John Gilmore, founder of digital rights group Electronic Frontier Foundation: “The internet interprets censorship as damage and routes around it.” These pioneers also created a robust platform on which a guy in a dorm room could build a business that serves a billion people.
But perhaps not for much longer. This week, 2000 people have gathered for the World Conference on International Telecommunications (WCIT) in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates to discuss, in part, whether they should be in charge.
The stated goal of the Dubai meeting is to update the obscure International Telecommunications Regulations (ITRs), last revised in 1988. These relate to the way international telecom providers operate. In charge of this process is the International Telecommunications Union (ITU), an agency set up in 1865 with the advent of the telegraph. Its $200 million annual budget is mainly funded by membership fees from 193 countries and about 700 companies. Civil society groups are only represented if their governments choose to include them in their delegations. Some do, some don’t. This is part of the controversy: the WCIT is effectively a closed shop.
Vinton Cerf, Google’s chief internet evangelist and co-inventor of the TCP/IP internet protocols, wrote in May that decisions in Dubai “have the potential to put government handcuffs on the net”.
The need to update the ITRs isn’t surprising. Consider what has happened since 1988: the internet, Wi-Fi, broadband, successive generations of mobile telephony, international data centres, cloud computing. In 1988, there were a handful of telephone companies - now there are thousands of relevant providers.
Controversy surrounding the WCIT gathering has been building for months. In May, 30 digital and human rights organisations from all over the world wrote to the ITU with three demands: first, that it publicly release all preparatory documents and proposals; second, that it open the process to civil society; and third that it ask member states to solicit input from all interested groups at national level. In June, two academics at George Mason University in Virginia - Jerry Brito and Eli Dourado - set up the WCITLeaks site, soliciting copies of the WCIT documents and posting those they received. There were still gaps in late November when .nxt, a consultancy firm and ITU member, broke ranks and posted the lot on its own site.
The issue entered the mainstream when Greenpeace and the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) launched the Stop the Net Grab campaign, demanding that the WCIT be opened up to outsiders. At the launch of the campaign on 12 November, Sharan Burrow, general secretary of the ITUC, pledged to fight for as long it took to ensure an open debate on whether regulation was necessary. “We will stay the distance,” she said.
This marks the first time that such large, experienced, international campaigners, whose primary work has nothing to do with the internet, have sought to protect its freedoms. This shows how fundamental a technology the internet has become.
A week later, the European parliament passed a resolution stating that the ITU was “not the appropriate body to assert regulatory authority over either internet governance or internet traffic flows”, opposing any efforts to extend the ITU’s scope and insisting that its human rights principles took precedence. The US has always argued against regulation.
Efforts by ITU secretary general Hamadoun Touré to spread calm have largely failed. In October, he argued that extending the internet to the two-thirds of the world currently without access required the UN’s leadership. Elsewhere, he has repeatedly claimed that the more radical proposals on the table in Dubai would not be passed because they would require consensus.
These proposals raise two key fears for digital rights campaigners. The first concerns censorship and surveillance: some nations, such as Russia, favour regulation as a way to control or monitor content transiting their networks.
The second is financial. Traditional international calls attract settlement fees, which are paid by the operator in the originating country to the operator in the terminating country for completing the call. On the internet, everyone simply pays for their part of the network, and ISPs do not charge to carry each other’s traffic. These arrangements underpin network neutrality, the principle that all packets are delivered equally on a “best efforts” basis. Regulation to bring in settlement costs would end today’s free-for-all, in which anyone may set up a site without permission. Small wonder that Google is one of the most vocal anti-WCIT campaigners.
How worried should we be? Well, the ITU cannot enforce its decisions, but, as was pointed out at the Stop the Net Grab launch, the system is so thoroughly interconnected that there is plenty of scope for damage if a few countries decide to adopt any new regulatory measures.
This is why so many people want to be represented in a dull, lengthy process run by an organisation that may be outdated to revise regulations that can be safely ignored. If you’re not in the room you can’t stop the bad stuff.
Wendy M. Grossman is a science writer and the author of net.wars (NYU Press)



From issue 2894 of New Scientist magazine, page 28-29.

Why the world is arguing over who runs the internet. By Wendy M. Grossman

The ethos of freedom from control that underpins the web is facing its first serious test, says Wendy M. Grossman

WHO runs the internet? For the past 30 years, pretty much no one. Some governments might call this a bug, but to the engineers who designed the protocols, standards, naming and numbering systems of the internet, it’s a feature.

The goal was to build a network that could withstand damage and would enable the sharing of information. In that, they clearly succeeded - hence the oft-repeated line from John Gilmore, founder of digital rights group Electronic Frontier Foundation: “The internet interprets censorship as damage and routes around it.” These pioneers also created a robust platform on which a guy in a dorm room could build a business that serves a billion people.

But perhaps not for much longer. This week, 2000 people have gathered for the World Conference on International Telecommunications (WCIT) in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates to discuss, in part, whether they should be in charge.

The stated goal of the Dubai meeting is to update the obscure International Telecommunications Regulations (ITRs), last revised in 1988. These relate to the way international telecom providers operate. In charge of this process is the International Telecommunications Union (ITU), an agency set up in 1865 with the advent of the telegraph. Its $200 million annual budget is mainly funded by membership fees from 193 countries and about 700 companies. Civil society groups are only represented if their governments choose to include them in their delegations. Some do, some don’t. This is part of the controversy: the WCIT is effectively a closed shop.

Vinton Cerf, Google’s chief internet evangelist and co-inventor of the TCP/IP internet protocols, wrote in May that decisions in Dubai “have the potential to put government handcuffs on the net”.

The need to update the ITRs isn’t surprising. Consider what has happened since 1988: the internet, Wi-Fi, broadband, successive generations of mobile telephony, international data centres, cloud computing. In 1988, there were a handful of telephone companies - now there are thousands of relevant providers.

Controversy surrounding the WCIT gathering has been building for months. In May, 30 digital and human rights organisations from all over the world wrote to the ITU with three demands: first, that it publicly release all preparatory documents and proposals; second, that it open the process to civil society; and third that it ask member states to solicit input from all interested groups at national level. In June, two academics at George Mason University in Virginia - Jerry Brito and Eli Dourado - set up the WCITLeaks site, soliciting copies of the WCIT documents and posting those they received. There were still gaps in late November when .nxt, a consultancy firm and ITU member, broke ranks and posted the lot on its own site.

The issue entered the mainstream when Greenpeace and the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) launched the Stop the Net Grab campaign, demanding that the WCIT be opened up to outsiders. At the launch of the campaign on 12 November, Sharan Burrow, general secretary of the ITUC, pledged to fight for as long it took to ensure an open debate on whether regulation was necessary. “We will stay the distance,” she said.

This marks the first time that such large, experienced, international campaigners, whose primary work has nothing to do with the internet, have sought to protect its freedoms. This shows how fundamental a technology the internet has become.

A week later, the European parliament passed a resolution stating that the ITU was “not the appropriate body to assert regulatory authority over either internet governance or internet traffic flows”, opposing any efforts to extend the ITU’s scope and insisting that its human rights principles took precedence. The US has always argued against regulation.

Efforts by ITU secretary general Hamadoun Touré to spread calm have largely failed. In October, he argued that extending the internet to the two-thirds of the world currently without access required the UN’s leadership. Elsewhere, he has repeatedly claimed that the more radical proposals on the table in Dubai would not be passed because they would require consensus.

These proposals raise two key fears for digital rights campaigners. The first concerns censorship and surveillance: some nations, such as Russia, favour regulation as a way to control or monitor content transiting their networks.

The second is financial. Traditional international calls attract settlement fees, which are paid by the operator in the originating country to the operator in the terminating country for completing the call. On the internet, everyone simply pays for their part of the network, and ISPs do not charge to carry each other’s traffic. These arrangements underpin network neutrality, the principle that all packets are delivered equally on a “best efforts” basis. Regulation to bring in settlement costs would end today’s free-for-all, in which anyone may set up a site without permission. Small wonder that Google is one of the most vocal anti-WCIT campaigners.

How worried should we be? Well, the ITU cannot enforce its decisions, but, as was pointed out at the Stop the Net Grab launch, the system is so thoroughly interconnected that there is plenty of scope for damage if a few countries decide to adopt any new regulatory measures.

This is why so many people want to be represented in a dull, lengthy process run by an organisation that may be outdated to revise regulations that can be safely ignored. If you’re not in the room you can’t stop the bad stuff.

Wendy M. Grossman is a science writer and the author of net.wars (NYU Press)

Issue 2894 of New Scientist magazine
  • From issue 2894 of New Scientist magazine, page 28-29.
Tense talks around national regulation of the internet. At the International Telecommunications Union talks in Dubai, a surprise proposal has emerged backed by Arab states, Russia, and China to require governments to regulate Internet companies. Enshrining this in an international treaty could add legitimacy to online restrictions and censorship by repressive regimes. The discussions are supposed to lead to a final treaty by Friday.

Tense talks around national regulation of the internet. At the International Telecommunications Union talks in Dubai, a surprise proposal has emerged backed by Arab states, Russia, and China to require governments to regulate Internet companies. Enshrining this in an international treaty could add legitimacy to online restrictions and censorship by repressive regimes. The discussions are supposed to lead to a final treaty by Friday.

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