The Filter Bubble - Eli Pariser [69]
Back in 1980, Winner wrote, “Consciously or unconsciously, deliberately or inadvertently, societies choose structures for technologies that influence how people are going to work, communicate, travel, consume, and so forth over a very long time.” This isn’t to say that today’s designers have malevolent impulses, of course—or even that they’re always explicitly trying to shape society in certain ways. It’s just to say that they can—in fact, they can’t help but shape the worlds they build.
To paraphrase Spider-Man creator Stan Lee, with great power comes great responsibility. But the programmers who brought us the Internet and now the filter bubble aren’t always game to take on that responsibility. The Hacker Jargon File, an online repository of geek culture, puts it this way: “Hackers are far more likely than most non-hackers to either (a) be aggressively apolitical or (b) entertain peculiar or idiosyncratic political ideas.” Too often, the executives of Facebook, Google, and other socially important companies play it coy: They’re social revolutionaries when it suits them and neutral, amoral businessmen when it doesn’t. And both approaches fall short in important ways.
Playing It Coy
When I first called Google’s PR department, I explained that I wanted to know how Google thought about its enormous curatorial power. What was the code of ethics, I asked, that Google uses to determine what to show to whom? The public affairs manager on the other end of the phone sounded confused. “You mean privacy?” No, I said, I wanted to know how Google thought about its editorial power. “Oh,” he replied, “we’re just trying to give people the most relevant information.” Indeed, he seemed to imply, no ethics were involved or required.
I persisted: If a 9/11 conspiracy theorist searches for “9/11,” was it Google’s job to show him the Popular Mechanics article that debunks his theory or the movie that supports it? Which was more relevant? “I see what you’re getting at,” he said. “It’s an interesting question.” But I never got a clear answer.
Much of the time, as the Jargon File entry claims, engineers resist the idea that their work has moral or political consequences at all. Many engineers see themselves as interested in efficiency and design, in building cool stuff rather than messy ideological disputes and inchoate values. And it’s true that if political consequences of, say, a somewhat faster video-rendering engine exist, they’re pretty obscure.
But at times, this attitude can verge on a “Guns don’t kill people, people do” mentality—a willful blindness to how their design decisions affect the daily lives of millions. That Facebook’s button is named Like prioritizes some kinds of information over others. That Google has moved from PageRank—which is designed to show the societal consensus result—to a mix of PageRank and personalization represents a shift in how Google understands relevance and meaning.
This amorality would be par for the corporate course if it didn’t coincide with sweeping, world-changing rhetoric from the same people and entities. Google’s mission to organize the world’s information and make it accessible to everyone carries a clear moral and even political connotation—a democratic redistribution of knowledge from closed-door elites to the people. Apple’s devices are marketed with the rhetoric of social change and the promise that they’ll revolutionize not only your life but our society as well. (The famous Super Bowl ad announcing the release of the Macintosh computer ends by declaring that “1984 won’t be like 1984.”)
Facebook describes itself as a “social utility,” as if it’s a twenty-first-century phone company. But when users protest Facebook’s