Little Brother
I just finished Cory Doctorow's 'Little Brother', his surveillance-state novel for young adults. I read it for free, because he wants me too - it's published under a Creative Commons license that lets me download and print the PDF1. I read the last page this evening, and wanted to jot down my initial thoughts. Basic overview: I liked it a lot, except for the parts I really didn't. The following contains minor spoilers.
The setting is a not-too-distant San Francisco, where the surveillance is constant, even in schools. After a terrorist attack it gets far worse, and a group of students use all the technology at their disposal to fight back.
In many ways I think it's everything a modern young-adult novel should be. For starters, it assumes readers can understand anything explained clearly enough - it goes into some fairly odd cryptographic concepts, for example. Which you'd think risky - public and private keys aren't very intuitive - but there's no hesitation or couching in 'don't worry if you don't understand this'. Mr Doctorow just dives right in, using his considerable writing skills to render the topic comprehensible, and none of it seemed patronising. He was also telling it straight - I know a little about cryptography, and I didn't notice any glaring oversimplifications. The plot relies heavily on technology and modern networks, and to my eyes it was easy to follow (and there's no reason it shouldn't be).
The novel also doesn't shy away from sex, violence or bad language - it doesn't dwell on any of these, but the plot revolves around a 17-year old fighting a fascist state: such topics are going to come up. And, again, they're handled truthfully. People get crushed in stampedes, and the government tortures people. People on the Internet swear, because they do. Sex is new and odd, and unleashes a torrent of emotions that confuse the hell out of the young characters. It's the way things are, and I don't think young-adult books should pretend otherwise.
I also found it compelling. It's not long, but I nevertheless raced through it, despite having 155 loose pages. The plot moves fast, and is full of interesting asides. From freegans, to ARGing, to the flaws of planned cities as opposed to those which grow organically (with nods to real books on the subject), there's a lot to learn, and I suspect I've forgotten much already.
Each chapter is headed with dedications to a particular bookstore, with brief descriptions. Mr Doctorow's love of books shines through, and you find yourself wanting to visit every one, just to hang out. There's an extensive bibliography, showing that most of the technologies mentioned already exist, and which are the best books on the subjects. My wishlist expanded substantially. There are also two addenda, written by Xbox hacker Andrew 'bunnie' Huang and security expert Bruce Schneier. Which brings us to the politics, which is where I start to get twitchy.
I didn't go in blind - I've been on Cory's mailing list for years, and followed Boing Boing for longer. I know his current positions on surveillance and security etc., and I often agree. But it's a book designed to introduce such concepts to young adults, and right out of the gate it pissed me off with its use of 'snitching'.
I hate that word. It's a bully-word, and a bully-concept. I have never, in real life, heard it used by anybody with a moral case. But the novel's definition broadens it - any technology that spies on you 'snitches' you to the police if you do anything wrong. It's loosely linked to the database-state, but the implication is that giving the police any kind of information, even if it's actually about a crime, is 'snitching'. And there's therefore something wrong with it2. Which is just bullshit.
I'm happy to listen to the arguments about surveillance. I'm happy to agree that imploring people to report 'suspicious activity' is stupid, when 'suspicious activity' means 'using an SLR'. But that's not the same thing as reporting crimes to the police. It's almost always a moral duty to 'snitch' if you have knowledge of a crime. Because the justice system isn't, actually, totally corrupt, and the police aren't out to get you.
Which is another problem: in this novel, the police are evil. No question. And this was where I started to get annoyed. It starts off with the main character railing against surveillance and anti-terror tactics in his school and city, with many well-argued points. But this is then conflated with fascism. The police beat people up willy-nilly; they gas kids at a rock concert; there is not a shred of decency about a single officer. The government is the same - towards the end they find video footage of a Karl Rove-like3 figure calling the people of San Francisco 'fags and atheists' and revealing the government knows of a terrorist plot, but is going to let it happen before the mid-term elections. There's even a brief nod to 9/11 conspiracies. I know Cory isn't into that crap, but it's there nonetheless. And I found this cartoony and disappointing.
The reader is clearly meant to draw parallels with the modern USA in terms of surveillance, but the subsequent unambiguous evil of authority isn't realistic, despite the obsessions of the 1984 crowd, and conflating the two is dishonest. Perhaps the point is that 100% surveillance will lead to this kind of thing - absolute power corrupts and all that. Perhaps the point is that anything with the potential to create such a world needs to be stopped. But the book doesn't suggest why either of these should be the case.
Like I said, I am happy to listen to arguments against the surveillance state. They'll probably convince me. But, as far as I can tell, data-collection atm has the potential to be used for evil. It's not actually ruining our lives, right now, today. For all the complaining about store-cards, airport security measures and 42-day-detentions, the real world with all its problems is incredibly benign compared to the situation in the book. Of course an evil government and violent police force are bad things, but they don't necessarily go hand-in-hand with surveillance. You need to make your case without invoking them. I have the same problem with anti-DRM campaigners talking about how DRM doesn't work - if it did work it'd still be stupid, and going on about how it doesn't makes you look like anti-phone mast campaigners who claim their local mast won't be a good business strategy. They look like they're hiding something. Show me why a totally benign surveillance state is evil - and I'm not saying you can't - and I'll be more impressed. The book does this a little with discussions of the need for privacy, but it's fairly subdued compared to the anti-authority stuff.
So I didn't like that aspect. But the book, while obviously a polemic, isn't totally one-sided. The main character's social studies class is a good forum for debate, and the political aspects are no less clear or watered-down than the technical explanations. There are a few right-wing nutcases thrown in as foils, but also numerous less-extreme viewpoints from characters trying, albeit briefly, to figure out the best approach. The main character is also not a superhero - he regularly doubts that he's doing the right thing, and things don't always turn out ok.
I learnt a lot. It was particularly penetrating, for me, on privacy issues. I tend to be on the oh-do-shut-up side when it comes to privacy debates, because I generally don't give a damn what people know about me, but various points made me pause. I suspect they'll play over in my head for quite a while. The arguments surrounding the right to dismantle things, and freedom of information, and the trade-offs of security, safety and freedom are all relevant and compelling. I'd recommend it to anyone wanting a decent introduction to these issues, or even people - like me - who think they know it already. I'd even recommend it to young adults (not that I really know any). But the unambiguous authority = evil, as opposed to just something that needs to be closely watched, is a shame. I wish there'd been one policeman character who disagreed with the way things were going, but still emphasised the need for a fair police force. There was just a little too much paranoia.
And all this for free. I feel bad. I'll certainly buy a copy, or at least contribute appropriately to his library-donation program.
Photographers’ rights and behaving properly
There's currently a lot of fuss about photographers' rights. Increasing numbers of photographers seem to be getting hassled for no good reason, and there's little sign of it stopping. Obviously this a bit of a worry, but I want to make sure I understand all sides of the argument.
I try to look at the evidence skeptically, and the leaning I fight against is actually towards authority. In my experience the lone warriors battling against the injustices of authority are more likely to be jerks than heroes, so I look at their arguments first. And it's often hard to find rationales amongst the fetishising of Orwell. Honestly, the way for the government to get rid of these people is to create an MMORPG of 19841. But if you ignore all the libertarian fantasies and slippery-slope talk there are lots of people asking a valid question: why shouldn't people be allowed to take photographs in any public place?
The standard answer is, obviously, security. People who want to do Bad Things use photographs to help them plan. Ok. If they want to win me over, I need to be convinced that banning photography is a) effective and b) fair. Does it actually stop people Planning Things? Can I personally still apply for a permit to photograph inside St. Pancras? I think there's a chance they may have a point, annoying to me as it may be, so I'll at least hear them out.
Then along comes Bruce Schneier:
Since 9/11, there has been an increasing war on photography. Photographers have been harrassed, questioned, detained, arrested or worse, and declared to be unwelcome. We've been repeatedly told to watch out for photographers, especially suspicious ones. Clearly any terrorist is going to first photograph his target, so vigilance is required.
Except that it's nonsense. The 9/11 terrorists didn't photograph anything. Nor did the London transport bombers, the Madrid subway bombers, or the liquid bombers arrested in 2006. Timothy McVeigh didn't photograph the Oklahoma City Federal Building. The Unabomber didn't photograph anything; neither did shoe-bomber Richard Reid. Photographs aren't being found amongst the papers of Palestinian suicide bombers. The IRA wasn't known for its photography. Even those manufactured terrorist plots that the US government likes to talk about -- the Ft. Dix terrorists, the JFK airport bombers, the Miami 7, the Lackawanna 6 -- no photography.
Ok, you win. Banning photography on security grounds is clearly bollocks. See his post for his - very interesting - take on why governments go down this road.
Still. People do themselves no favours. Check out this much-lauded 'documentary'. It's an odd little thing, contrasting the director's angry encounter with a Community Support Officer with an internet petition supporting photographers' rights. The latter turned out to be massively exaggerating the impending legislative threat, but the former is presented as if to say 'but look, isn't it all dreadful'.
Here's what happens. The guy's filming 'some ordinary street shots' in the centre of London, in a heavy crowd, and he picks out a passing Community Support Officer. He tracks him with the camera for a few seconds, getting very close to the guy's face (you'll see how we know this in a minute). The CSO stops walking and asks him to stop filming, then reaches and puts his hand over the lens. Guy immediately launches into 'you've assaulted me!', and they have a competition to out-haughty each other over what right he has to carry on filming.
Now, the CSO is clearly out of line. There are no rules forbidding filming in a public place2. He does himself no favours. But I think there's dickery on both sides of the camera.
I suspect it comes from the attitude of Me vs The Man. The CSO isn't a person, he's the embodiment of Authority, and so doesn't get common courtesy. There are a lot of people who, if you shove a camera in their face, will get uppity and put a hand over the lens. Me, I could give a damn, but I've got friends my age who insist I keep Flickr photos on heavy-privacy settings. Lots of people get very funny about privacy, including most of the aforementioned Orwell nuts - look at all the fuss over Google Street View. No, the CSO shouldn't have done it, but he's an actual person, not an automaton, and people make mistakes.
Then, given that it's happened, the sensible thing is not to launch into 'you've assaulted me'. This is clearly is not going to help. Also - and forgive me if I'm misinterpreting the strength of his hand against the camera - but get a grip. He's clearly saying it for show. Of course you should be assertive, but it's possible to state your rights without going on the attack and turning the situation into a competition. How many disagreements have ever been resolved reasonably when both sides go all macho? Doesn't happen. I'm not saying the guy should have apologised, but something along the lines of 'what reason is there I can't film here?' should resolve the situation much more effectively. The CSO demands to see some ID, which is obviously not ok (and a red flag to a bull), and the guy tells him he has a perfect right to film and he needs to know the law better. The encounter isn't going to recover from this. Getting all haughty and looking for an argument - I love the oh-so-affronted 'what' when the (admittedly totally out-of-line) CSO tells him to 'shut up' - isn't helping anyone, it's just advertising. How is the CSO going to react next time he sees someone filming? If the next guy is me, I'm going to have far less chance of a reasonable outcome because someone else didn't behave properly.
I don't think that video is a good example of anything. CSOs shouldn't act like that, but neither should photographers. The guy filming possibly lost his cool in the situation, but I'm not sure it's the best advert to put out there. I'd say there are very, very few situations where politeness isn't the most effective solution, no matter how big a jerk you're dealing with.
I don't think photographers should put up with being hassled on the street. And we should campaign to point out the flaws in the arguments for doing so. But the us-and-them mentality isn't productive either.
Critical Windows security patch
Anybody with Windows Automatic Updates enabled should get a nagging message in the next 24hrs. It's worth installing the new security patch asap, as the problem with animated cursors, of all things, is actively being exploited. It's highly unlikely you'll come across an infected website, but it can't hurt to be safe. If you don't have WAU enabled (and if not, why not?) you should head over to Windows Update and pick up the patch. Don't be tempted by the 'Microsoft Update' option, though - it's still evil.
Uninstall Greasemonkey
If you're running Firefox and have Greasemonkey installed, you should uninstall the latter ASAP. There's a massive security hole that makes it possible for a website to grab any file from your hard drive. I imagine this'll get fixed within the next 24hours, but better to be safe than sorry. 'course, if you want to be extra safe, you could switch to Opera...Sorry, couldn't resist
