There’s always been something universalizing about the Internet. The World Wide Web has seemed both inherently singular and global, a sort of ethereal United Nations. But today, as Scott Malcomson contends in this concise, brilliant investigation, the Internet is cracking apart into discrete groups no longer willing, or able, to connect. The implications of this shift are momentous.
Malcomson traces the way the Internet has been shaped by government needs since the 19th century—above all, the demands of the US military and intelligence services. From World War I cryptography and spying to weapons targeting against Hitler and then Stalin, the monolithic aspect of the digital network was largely determined by its genesis in a single, state-sponsored institution.
In the 1960s, internationalism and openness were introduced by the tech pioneers of California’s counter-culture, the seed bed for what became Google, Microsoft, Facebook and Apple. But in the last 15 years, security concerns of states and the privatizing impetus of e-commerce have come to the fore and momentum has shifted in a new direction, towards private, walled domains, each vying with the other in an increasingly fragmented system, in effect a “Splinternet.”
Because the Internet today surrounds us so comprehensively, it’s easy to regard the way it functions as a simple given, part of the natural order of things. Only by stepping back and scrutinizing the evolution of the system can we see the Internet for what it is—a contested, protean terrain, constantly evolving as different forces intervene to drive it forward. In that vital exercise, Malcomson’s elegant, erudite account will prove invaluable.
Scott Malcomson, a consultant on communications and political risk, is the author of four previous books and has written for the New York Times, the New Yorker and many other publications. He has been a senior official at the US State Department and the United Nations and an executive at two international NGOs. He was foreign editor of the New York Times Magazine from 2004 to 2011. A member of the Council on Foreign Relations and PEN, he has lectured in Europe, China and the United States. He is the author of Splinternet: How Geopolitics and Commerce are Fragmenting the World Wide Web, Tuturani: A Political Journey in the Pacific Islands, Empire’s Edge: Travels in Southeastern Europe, Turkey and Central Asia, One Drop of Blood: The American Misadventure of Race, and Generation’s End: A Personal Memoir of American Power after 9/11.
In general, the book covers much material found elsewhere, particularly in the first two sections discussing the early stages of the digital era and the rise of the computer, though with much very insightful perspective. While other authors have outlined similar sequences of events, I found that Malcomson has a very keen eye for the reasons behind the causes of the effects he's describing as well as for their implications. Though quite recent, it predates the end of net neutrality that played out a year or so after its publication. While the book did not explicitly predict this event, I strongly suspect that the author was not at all surprised at this development. In light of the ever-growing revelations of big player abuses of power and breaches of trust (Facebook, Amazon, Google, etc.), it does seem obvious that this has always been by design as Malcomson describes. In his analysis of what's at stake in terms of how the forces of internet power will affect the future of societies and individuals, the author compels the reader to question one's own values as to what might constitute an acceptable trade-off between access to services in exchange for loss of privacy. Thinking about the points this book raises has prompted me into many discussions with peers about the overarching issues of government and corporate control and what that means in a culture so intent on defining itself according to the rubric of consumerism. One of the biggest questions I've walked away with from reading this book is, quite simply, is the trade-off worth it? If loss of privacy is the price we have to pay to "enjoy" the easiest possible access to the goods and services we are primed to desire, then who is likely to complain, so long as those goods and services are indeed delivered? In the end, though I do think that Malcomson is spot-on in his assessment of the situation we now find ourselves in, I find it a bit odd to use a rating system giving the book four stars to say that "I really liked it". I actually found it pretty depressing. While I would still recommend it to most people I know, I suspect that most anyone who might be sympathetic to its point of view is not likely to be someone who might have any real power to do anything meaningful about it. I can't help thinking that discussions of these issues tend only to interest a very small minority. Addressing them with this information, however important, is only so much preaching to the converted.
Given the time we spend online, it befits us to understand where the internet came from, how it works, and where it’s headed. This short book untangles the nexus of military interests and libertarian values that shaped the web—an ill-sorted marriage unresolved to this day.
Solid 101 on the connections between government / military research and the commercial internet. more of a history than the title would have you believe.