Regulating The Internet? Not the Tubes Themselves…

If Net Neutrality is an argument about economics (and federal administrative law), Content Regulation is an argument about ethics and culture.

Net Neutrality is becoming an old hobby horse for a lot of people. It gets a lot more attention than most telecommunications policy issues. Even though questions about copper wire lines vs fiber optic cables actually affects more people, the internet is generally united by the fact of its own existence.  This is about regulation at the highest level, determining the equality and/or equity of access to content. No one online is indifferent to the internet—the only debate about net neutrality is which policies are best for the consumer and the telecommunications marketplace (or, in the United States, “telecommunications marketplace”).

But there is another layer of regulation that is quickly gaining attention. If Net Neutrality is about the form of the internet (its structure and broad organization), there is a growing need to consider questions about the regulation of the content of the internet. Over the years, the internet has been a vector for some amazingly good and amazingly bad actions by humans. The differences in the kind of regulatory concept at play are hard to understate. Rather than comparing it to different video games, I would compare it to the difference between a video game and a tabletop game.

1) I’ve always been fascinated by the dawn of the computer age. My childhood was the tail-end of a world in which homes did not have internet access. By the start of law school, everyone looked up famous cases and Latin phrases on Wikipedia during class (except for the people who did the reading the night before- they looked it up before class). I’ve often compared the early days of the internet to a kind of Wild West setting: a lawless frontier where fundamental questions about the mold of civilization were not yet settled. I thought most of those questions would be settled by 2015. We are not close to a consensus on rules. Indeed, we are still testing what types of rules are feasible or desirable.

Video games are literally made of rules: the computer code that constitutes the game itself. Tabletop games are made of… usually cardboard, or some kind of paper. (Occasionally, they have some plastic – or even metal if you got the collector’s edition.) This may sound like a silly or vacuous distinction, but it has important ramifications for the kinds of problems that can happen in a game, and the kinds of solutions that will (or won’t) be effective.

2) Lawlessness can lead to problems. This was probably not known until 2 decades of unfettered internet, but now we know. Free to do anything, people have tried very hard to do everything. Every app, platform, hosting site, game, or program online that gets big enough eventually starts to experience just about every problem type that humans can present. From intellectual property disputes to death threats, from fraud to manslaughter, the internet has been a way for people to discover criminal behaviors that past generations could never have the opportunity to access. The unethical choices of both multi-national companies and village simpletons are available for repeated viewing.

In a video game, the code can sometimes glitch and create problems for players. The code can also execute perfectly, but there may be complaints about the design of the game itself (a level being too difficult or some power or tactic being of an unsuitable level of power). With some difficulty, players can cheat by actually breaking the code, but more games can detect this (and especially so in professional e-sports settings). In a tabletop game, anyone can cheat, the rules may be wrongly applied (or not applied at all), and all manner of chaos can ensue. DDoSing an opponent during a game might be a little bit akin to literally flipping a table during a game of Monopoly or checkers,

3)  YouTube’s takedown system is already an example of an effort to regulate content, and it already shows some of the challenges with instituting a content regulation system: people will find ways to game that system. Any system of regulation will have two negative outcomes: it will penalize the innocent, and it will be dodged by the guilty. The most you can hope for is that it will protect most of the innocent and it will penalize most of the guilty. The US justice system, even when working as intended, will sometimes produce undesirable results: a guilty person will go free, and an innocent person will go to prison. The hope is that this happens very infrequently.

The most common reaction to bad behavior online has been for authoritative parties to do nothing. The most common reaction by authoritative parties to actually do something has been to ban the bad actor. The most common reaction to this ban is to come back with a different username or account.

In video games, cheaters are often banned (if they are making the game worse for other players). But in table top games, people who ruin the game are just not invited back. No one will play with them anymore. People might hang out with someone less if they behaved in a wildly unacceptable way during a casual weekend game of Risk or Werewolf. In a video game, bad behavior has very limited consequences. In a tabletop game, bad behavior can have lots of meaningful implications.


4) What would it look like to regular content? Getting it wrong is easy — which is the primary reason that’s what’s going to continue to happen. Whether trying to penalize criminals or regulate behavior online, creating a fair and ethical system that consistently produces more good results than bad ones is difficult. One problem is that incentives are at odds: most platforms want to turn a profit, and if bad behavior yields a net gain, the platform needs a solution that will actually make more money than the current bad behavior (plus the cost of implementing the remedy). Another problem is that platforms tend to think of regulating their content the way that most Americans think about regulations: an appointed governing authority (or combination of authorities).



You can’t make people be good, but you can keep deleting all of their manifestations of their behavior on the internet: You can suspend or ban accounts, and eventually IP addresses. You can automatically censor strings of characters, and continually update the list of banned strings. These will continue to be the solutions offered, and they will continue to mostly fail while they almost half-succeed.

Over a decade ago, Lawerence Lessig asserted that laws are of four types: market, cultural, legal, and architectural. It turns out that enforcing the legal type of law in a digital space is very difficult. But cultural norms practically enforce themselves. And architectural laws are always already enforced. Market rules can be fickle, but persuasive. A lot of efforts to regulate content will fail because they will hinge on the concepts of legal enforcement.

The lack of rules and regulations is what made the internet a place where amazing things could happen. Without rules to stop imagination and creativity, people created art, solved problems, built positive communities, and enriched themselves and each other. In that same landscape: without rules to stop hate and anger, people created harassment and bullying, invaded privacy, ruined lives, occasionally killed people, and destroyed a lot of good in the world. Lawless frontiers are the best opportunity for the most beautiful, important, and inspiring expressions of humanity. They are also the best opportunities for the most despicable, dangerous, and damaging expressions of humanity. What the internet becomes will be decided—has always been decided—by what people bring to it.


Watching Over Media and Brands, Part I

More than any game I’ve ever seen, Overwatch is a multi-media, total brand experience. The trailers for the game could compete with Pixar shorts in every respect. The game is supplemented with comics, toys, and a professional eSports scene. It sets new industry standards in showmanship, advertising, and storyline. This is a lot more than just a video game. This is the new model for integrating a concept across every medium and platform to reach every possible audience in every way. This isn’t just the new benchmark in video games. This is the blueprint for every successful future entertainment product. Blizzard understands “today’s media landscape” as more than a business-boardroom buzzword. Other industries also have successful examples of dominating multiple platforms, though none quite on this scale.

Today’s musicians can’t get away with merely releasing music. They need to tweet and vlog, and most crucially, they need to do live performances. Katy Perry recently set the record as the most followed person on Twitter, even though publishing 140-character quips was never in the job description of a musician or a pop star. Similarly, writers can’t just write books anymore- they need to write about their writing, and then talk about writing about their writing with other writers who want to talk about talking about writing. John Green aspired to be a writer when he took a job doing data entry at a publishing company. At the time, he didn’t hope to become a transmediaplatformleader-we-don’t-have-a-word-for-this-thing. However, his understanding and use of YouTube and Twitter allowed him to promote his young adult fiction beyond what a traditional book publisher would imagine. His new media fed his career in the old media, and vice-versa. (And compared to Twitter and YouTube, video games are old media.*)

Movies won’t succeed just by creating more epic battle scenes in 3D to justify the expense of going to the theater. They need to change the experience in more fundamental ways- they probably need a smooth integration of social media, but they also need some interaction the viewers can’t get outside the theater. They need to learn what Prince knew: you can’t get the live-show experience sitting alone in your home. One way movies could adapt to the 21st century is to turn an evening at the movies into a kind of social event, akin to a concert, sports game, or convention. Another way is to make it an even more technologically-driven experience, with augmented reality or virtual reality – a kind of entertainment-themed, futuristic, individualized experience like a museum or library. That is a lot more expensive, though, and all of the theaters near me just spent a lot of money upgrading their seats.

The media channels of the 21st century aren’t just more avenues for information – they are layers of information interacting with the other layers. Television programs and movies also have to adapt to the way consumers use the newest technology. Adaptation looks like spreading out- growing to cover a larger area – but it’s also about moving to new places entirely. Entertainment has to infiltrate and flow through multiple channels. It also still relies heavily on sponsorship in many cases, which means advertising also has to be integrated across these media.**

There are other ways of adapting, such as just adding alcohol to a bookstore.  Don’t rule anything out, I guess. Especially if you don’t think anyone under 21 even knows about your store or your product, anyway.



*Not that video games are mainstream yet. My Facebook newsfeed recently informed me that Torbjorn was set to be “‘nerfed’ for consoles in future update.” The word “nerfed” was in quotations, which tells me that mainstream journalists don’t know what it means and don’t think it’s a word. (Or they’re very conscious about not genericizing Hasbro’s trademark, even though that trademark is, strictly speaking, in all-caps.)

**The alternative to advertising is some form of upfront pay-to-play, which is what Overwatch did.