After an unequivocal experience of the inefficiency of the subsisting system of Internet regulation, you are called upon to deliberate on a new Constitution for the Internet. The subject speaks its own importance; comprehending in its consequences nothing less than the existence of the INTERNET, the safety and the welfare of the parts of which it is composed, the fate of a universal network in many respects the most interesting phenomenon of our times …

Only a foreigner, it seems, may be forgiven for bending the first sentences of the Federalist Papers, a set of documents so dear to the political culture of a nation and doing so with no other excuse but to find a rhetorical re-entry into a somewhat ailing debate on Internet rule-making. But why did those setting the framework for this debate evoke these historically loaded documents in the first place? Why this reference to the political history of just one particular country at a moment when this country seems no longer to have the largest amount of Internet users? Why such a debate anyway, and why now – again? What should be the issues? And what could be the desired outcome?

The historic reference may have been chosen for the purely heuristic reason of eliciting responses to the political significance of this current moment by recalling a significant moment in the history of political thought. And the reference to the history of the United States of America may be justified because of the role this country has played in the genesis of the Internet. Some may even hold such a reference to be justified because of an intellectual climate which, they say, this country has provided (while others maintain it is still providing and yet others see it providing soon again) in which people from different cultural backgrounds could experience the limitations of their own prejudices and the opportunities of free exchange while at the same time being given a lingua franca facilitating their exchanges and leaving them free to maintain their identity— all this being experiences and associations which we still sense today whenever we use the Internet even if only for the most mundane purposes.

This somewhat lengthy attempt at justification may, of course, also be read as proof that the “American reference” in all things relating to the Internet should no longer be taken for granted. Even if one of the key organizations of Internet infrastructure, ICANN, is still operating on the basis of a contract with US authorities, the focus of Internet policy and rule-making has been shifting significantly. This is no longer a debate mainly by, among and about US Americans, exclusively within their set of cultural references. Furthermore, this is no longer a debate about the existence of dominance, and how to deal with dominance. This is a debate with global participants about the present and the future of global communication as such.

The Internet is the “space” where we all experience the profound moment between when we have spoken and when we are heard, between the moment we hear and the moment when we set out to answer. The Internet is the communicative experience of our time, it is, if we want to continue to use the metaphor of space, the Global Communication Space in which we are offered the opportunity to constitute our individual and collective identities – and all of us. We may stay with this metaphor of space, we may take a more functional approach and see the Internet as a communication tool, or, we may perceive it even as a Public Good, since its global reach gives it its special meaning.

However, it is precisely this globality which is at stake. The “American reference” is not so smoothly being replaced by a new higher “federalist” political reference to the Global. Rather what we see are multiple references, within multiple territorial boundaries— may they be geographical, political or boundaries of belief and culture— which have become increasingly rigid in the last decade. Those seeking to move in the global communication space experience collision, conflicts with habits and values and rules, set for them by what they had thought to be traditional agencies of power slowly losing their relevance. This experience of collision simultaneously meets with increasing doubts about the technical and organizational sustainability and scalability of the technical infrastructure of the Internet itself. A window of opportunity when it seemed politically possible to finally match global technical capabilities with the human need for communication seems to be closing, ironically at a moment when we have just come to understand our natural environment and the health of our bodies to be truly global issues.

Still this moment gives us two options: We can rely on the traditional way of constitution-building, drawing from our past experiences of how to construct national or regional political institutions, procedures and rules. We can discuss and eventually attempt to reset the powers of technical maintenance and scaling, the rules of content and behavior, the powers of exclusion and inclusion. We can look for new—and realign old— sources of legitimacy, and we can construct a new system of checks and balances for such powers. We might, however, be forced to realize that this is not about building just a new box in which we will eventually place and protect a more and more fragile Internet. While we set out to design such a box, the Internet is already being boxed in. While we may find new ways for making new rules, rule-making is happening all the time around us. Since its very beginnings the Internet has seen its communicative potentials domesticated and its potential reach contained.

The other option seems to be to intervene now in the existing political processes and governance structures whenever and wherever the global understanding of the Internet is at stake, defending our communication habitat, just as we are defending our natural habitat by intervening in traditional political processes. To arrive at an Internet living up to its global potential we may have to make direct use of all those institutions and processes which are already shaping the Internet.

We might still call this process constitution-building.

But within this option such a task is far more complex. It builds a constitution by intervening at all moments and on all levels in a multi-player, multi-issue and multi-fora environment. Such an approach, with all its decentralized activities, would still require its own legitimacy, its specific focus, as well as subtle organization and synchronization. Much of that might be generated simply from the interaction of the many, harnessing their intellectual and social potential. Also, new bodies might evolve creating new fora, free of at least some of the negative associations which we link with many current global institutions. Given the necessary determination, we could also rely on institutions and processes of traditional legitimacy, on our existing bodies of local, regional and global policy-making and insist on linking them with carriers of acquired legitimacy such as non-governmental organizations. The essential will be to focus – again similar to the environmental debate – on the common and express goal of maintaining and enhancing the Global Communication Space, its infrastructure and its accessibility.

Whatever option is taken, it can build on the experiences of such “Continental Congresses” as the ones in e.g.Marina del Rey, or Geneva, or Tunis, or Athens.

And it can take inventories from the environmental debates as long as we keep in mind that all our constitutional efforts are in the end about our current and future will to share and to partake in other peoples’ joys and sorrows in the most direct way currently possible over distances. This is about nothing less than the way in which we intend to deal with hate and violence—as individuals, communities, as societies—within a global framework, and what we are willing to offer, to share and to learn for this aim.

Herbert Burkert is Professor of Public Law, Information and Communication Law, and President of the Research Center for Information Law at the University of St. Gallen, Switzerland. He is also an International Fellow of the Information Society Project at Yale Law School and a Senior Research Fellow at the Fraunhofer Institute for Intelligent Analysis and Information Systems in St. Augustin, Germany. He has authored and edited numerous publications on information law, technology, and data protection.

This essay is one in a series of responses to A Working Hypothesis, Internet and Politics 2008: Moving People, Moving Ideas

Additional responses include: The New Activism: Why Volunteering Declined in Campaign 08, by Ari Melber, Participation and Polarization in the Networked Public Sphere, by Henry Farrell, The Revolution of the Online Commentariat, by Peter Daou, Not the Digital Democracy We Ordered, by Matthew Hindman, and From the Bottom-Up: Using the Internet to Mobilize Campaign Participation, by Dana Fisher.

An emerging social science literature has examined the impact of new information technologies on electoral politics. Research has shown, for instance, that new technologies have transformed the way citizens acquire political information, discuss the political realm, and participate in political activity. Others have traced changes in the way candidates communicate with voters, raise money, and try to make political news. Fundamentally, however, most research on the topic has focused on how information technology has changed the style, but not necessarily the substance of political campaigns. In our recently published book, The Persuadable Voter(Princeton University Press, 2008), Todd Shields and I argue that new technologies have shaped not only how candidates communicate with voters but also who they communicate with and what they are willing to say.

In particular, the ability to microtarget communications to small segments of the electorate—through direct mail, email, text messages, personalized website ads, and so on—has led to dog whistle politics, in which candidates communicate messages that can be heard only by intended targets, like the high-pitched dog whistle that can be heard by dogs but is not audible to the human ear. By microtargeting controversial messages, candidates don’t have to worry about alienating voters who disagree. As a consequence, we see a very different policy agenda communicated in the “ground war” than in the “air war.” In the 2004 presidential election, for instance, less than 1% of television ads talked about divisive issues like gay marriage, abortion, stem cell research, and the like. In contrast, more than 25% of the direct mail sent by the candidates and parties mentioned such issues.

Such microtargeting is possible because campaigns have created massive databases that include information about every registered voter in the country. The cornerstone of these databases is the voter registration file, which typically includes a voter’s name, address, party registration, vote history, and other information. Since the 2002 Help America Vote Act , this information has been compiled into computerized, statewide electronic files. Matched to these files are information from consumer databases, census files, political polls, and other sources. Campaigns then use this information to statistically predict who will turnout, how they are likely to vote, and what issues they care about. This allows campaign strategists to more efficiently and effectively target their communications. This means that individuals unlikely to vote or unlikely to vote for the candidate are completely ignored. And the all-important persuadable voters can be targeted with messages only on the issues on which they agree with candidate. As a result, campaign dialogue is fragmented, with different voters receiving very different campaign messages.

Some politicos and academics have called microtargeting a welcome development in American politics. It’s thought that personalized contact might increase interest and participation in the electorate. Microtargeted communications have been credited with engaging citizens because they connect with voters based on the issues they care about the most. Unfortunately, microtargeting has potential negative consequences as well.

The ability to microtarget creates incentives for candidates to focus attention on the issues that will help them win a particularized segment of the electorate, irrespective of whether those issues are a concern to the broader electorate. It is hard to imagine that snowmobiling policy topped the public’s list of political concerns in 2006, for instance, but the Republican National Committee targeted working-class snowmobilers with the message that the Democrats’ environmental views stood in the way of better snowmobiling opportunities.

Microtargeting also has implications for the quality of public dialogue in the campaign. Targeted voters receive information about the issues they care about but may be unaware of the other issue priorities being targeted to others. In 2004, the Bush and Kerry campaigns took positions on at least 75 different issues in direct mail. The electorate clearly did not have a thoughtful, sustained, or public debate on each of these issues.

The fragmentation of campaign dialogue also makes it difficult to interpret the eventual election outcomes. Any interpretation of what the election was ‘about’ will be incomplete because there was a multiplicity of policy agendas presented by the candidates. And there may be negative implications for governing as well. Presidents often hope to use their electoral ‘mandates’ as leverage to implement their campaign promises. Unfortunately, a fragmented and diverse policy agenda undermines the potential for an election to signify public support for any particular policy. The strategic decisions that help candidates win elections do not always translate into successful governing coalitions. Voters supporting different policy interests might come together temporarily for electoral purposes, but their solidarity will be severely tested when it comes to policy-making. Once the pressure of governing becomes real, electoral coalitions are likely to break, leaving the governing party without substantial leverage to accomplish their goals.

There is little doubt that information technologies have transformed electoral politics in many ways – and in many ways for the good. But we must also consider some of the potentially negative consequences of such transformations on the basic interaction between candidates and citizens in the democratic process.

D. Sunshine Hillygus is the Frederick S. Danziger Associate Professor of Government and director of the Harvard Program on Survey Research. Her research and teaching interests include American voting behavior, campaigns and elections, survey research, and information technology and society. She is co-author of The Hard Count: The Social and Political Challenges of the 2000 Census (Russell Sage Foundation, 2006) and The Persuadable Voter: Wedge Issues in Political Campaigns (Princeton University Press, 2008).

Responses include: The New Activism: Why Volunteering Declined in Campaign 08, by Ari Melber, Participation and Polarization in the Networked Public Sphere, by Henry Farrell, A Response to Working Hypothesis for Internet and Politics 2008, by Sunshine Hillygus, The Revolution of the Online Commentariat, by Peter Daou, Not the Digital Democracy We Ordered, by Matthew Hindman, and From the Bottom-Up: Using the Internet to Mobilize Campaign Participation, by Dana Fisher.

INTRODUCTION

Internet technologies—whether deployed to entice voters, raise money, recruit and organize campaign workers, or coax voters to the polls—now infuse every step of the electoral process.

This year’s edition of Internet & Politics, Moving People, Moving Ideas, will examine how digital technologies reshape the practice of campaigning and the movement of political information. We are bringing together an exceptional group of participants from various constituencies working at the intersection of technology and politics: campaign strategists, political activists and organizers,
independent analysts, members of the media, academics, students, and more. Our goal is to meld theory, data, and practice, synthesizing diverse perspectives and experiences in order to facilitate learning and collaboration. In doing so, we will draw upon the unique expertise of the Berkman Center community, the Harvard University Institute of Politics, and the accomplished group of conference participants.

Have digital information and communications tools enhanced critical elements of political strategy, such as leadership formation, community-building, and coordinated action? Are digital technologies influencing offline actions (for example, the ways campaigns contact and interact with potential constituents)? Some observers argue that technologies have enabled the transformation of relationships and created different forms of political participation. Others maintain that social networks, user-generated content, and voter databases are merely the newest ways of achieving old goals.

PEOPLE AND IDEAS

The recent presidential contest has integrated formerly peripheral and experimental “virtual” aspects of political campaigns into core areas of organization, messaging, fundraising, and strategy. Conference participants will consider this shift via two overlapping thematic areas.

Moving People: New Forms of Political Organizing

We will examine the emergence of the Internet as a means to strengthen relationships, organize effectively, and coordinate distributed collective action. How are virtual technologies employed for real-world action? Are they transforming the way people work together to achieve common goals? Or are they fostering a sense of community that doesn’t necessarily lead to results? What are the biggest barriers to the success of technologically enhanced organizing?

Moving Ideas: Political Information in the Networked Public Sphere

We will explore the effects of the Internet on political communications and the flow of information. How do new participants, messages, and formats influence the movement of ideas? How do key messages filter up (or down) and gain traction? Are digital networks enhancing political strategies, transparency, and democratic debate? Or are they leading to information overload, undermining legitimate authority, misrepresenting reality, or polarizing the electorate?

IS 2008 A TURNING POINT?

In convening this conference, we endeavored to illuminate the role that technology has played in this year’s presidential election, from the “air wars” of campaign messaging to the “ground wars” of canvassing and voter registration. Following the 2004 presidential contest, the defi ning technology story was the emergence of the Internet as a major fundraising tool. While the capacity to finance campaigns on the Net has grown, the role of the Internet and digital media in U.S. elections now encompasses a range of broader, more complex issues. We will seek to evaluate the technological innovations of the 2008 election cycle in this new landscape.

GOALS

Four years ago, the Berkman Center convened a similar gathering to help separate reality from hype in the wake of the 2004 election. We emerged with new insight and a practical agenda for further research. With Internet & Politics 2008: Moving People, Moving Ideas, we will bring a fresh perspective informed by recent elections and developments since 2004. We will assess experiences from the field, narratives from the media, and data emerging from empirical research. The event will provide scholars with theoretical and empirical insights to enrich their analyses. It will also be an opportunity for practitioners to evaluate their recent experiences within a broader context. The
conference will offer a unique nexus for both reflection and the frank exchange of ideas.

Throughout, we will focus on the core tensions and synergies among new technologies, organization and mobilization, and the fl ow of political information. We will ask participants to consider how innovations that emerged in the 2008 election cycle might shape the future of American democracy, and discuss the implications of these developments for political and governance agendas across
the world.

This essay is the second of a three-part series (1,3). It focuses on the steps of a possible roadmap for centralizing Internet governance under the UN.

As presented in the first essay, the course of Internet governance may be following the same incremental steps that international strategists follow when wishing to establish a permanent body with authority to deal with a given area. The steps as applied to recent moves for Internet governance under a UN umbrella are detailed below.

1. Launch Study

Normally friction comes as in-the-know people with interests (“stakeholders”) weigh in on policy decisions at the national level; then there is the added chafing that comes when different countries’ governments come together to try to hash out policies. But bring those in-the-know stakeholders from different countries together at the international level, and the possibilities for opinion clashes are endless.

Hence, it was predictable that the first phase of the World Summit on the Information Society (WSIS) would unleash cacophony in convening thousands of people with varied interests in Geneva (December 2003). Anticipating the mêlée, a negotiating group on Internet governance drafted language for the WSIS Declaration of Principles and Plan of Action. They proposed a Working Group on Internet Governance (WGIG) to prepare for the second phase of WSIS, to be held in Tunis (November 2005). Faced with hordes of people clamoring for attention to their myriad concerns, what government decision-maker could disagree with such a proposal?

The WGIG was thus created with a mandate to define (a) what should be conceived of as Internet governance, (b) what the public policy issues were that were relevant to this area, and (c) what the respective roles and responsibilities of stakeholders should be.

As any seasoned international negotiator knows, setting up a study group is the first step to agreeing new rules. Anyone not wanting new rules lost this battle.

2. Be Inclusive

In convening the WGIG, organizers conducted open consultations so as to enable any interested participant to contribute, with these inputs then feeding into work by an expert group. The process went far in enabling transparency and public participation.

If the ultimate goal was to establish a permanent UN agency to deal with Internet governance, the inclusive mode was brilliant. By bringing NGOs, businesses, and academic institutions into a setting normally reserved for governments, organizers could elevate these non state actors and dilute the power of governments – especially those governments wielding extra strong influence over Internet policy. Psychologically, non-state actors were on par with governments in this international process.

In the meantime, the WGIG process was setting the precedent for what would be accepted as fulfilling the call in the Declaration of Principles that “the international management of the Internet should be multilateral, transparent and democratic, with the full involvement of governments, the private sector, civil society and international organizations…” In particular, the open participation would cause some people to view the centralized, UN process as affording direct representation and thereby being more democratic than the traditional mode of governments representing their publics at the international level. Of course, others might contend that stakeholders participating in WGIG consultations did not represent the public, but by and large people with this critical view stayed away – meaning that for the most part the voices present were those feeling empowered by the new mode.

3. Avoid Conclusions

For a negotiator wanting a study process to turn into something more prolonged and eventually permanent, an important way to avoid ringing alarm bells is to go slowly. After all, an initial study that produces revolutionary recommendations is sure to draw attention and attract opposition. Findings that are inconclusive are much more palatable and do not appear to be biased toward any particular agenda.

One way to avoid producing substantial findings is to limit the amount of time spent developing them. Perhaps this is why roughly half of the time allotted for WGIG work was “wasted” with the procedural matter of composing an expert group that would be politically acceptable.

Another technique is to put forward a mixed bag of options that satisfies nobody.

In the case of WGIG, the final report accomplished this beautifully, particularly the four models proposed for “Global Public Policy and Oversight”.

4. Receive Commission

The inconclusive WGIG report left it to government negotiators preparing for the second phase of WSIS to haggle over a path forward. With roughly 19,000 people traveling to Tunis to champion a multitude of concerns at that meeting, governments had to produce some form of agreed text so as to stay in a position of leadership. After last-minute horse trading, governments endorsed the Tunis Agenda for the Information Society
.
In this document, governments extracted elements of the WGIG report and agreed to two notable Internet governance processes: First, they agreed to have the UN set up an Internet Governance Forum (IGF), mandating this forum, among other matters, to: “[d]iscuss public policy issues related to key elements of Internet Governance…”; “[i]dentify emerging issues…”; “[d]iscuss, inter alia, issues relating to critical Internet resources”; and “[h]elp to find solutions to the issues arising from the use and misuse of the Internet…” Second, they agreed for the UN to lead a process of “enhanced cooperation” whereby the UN would promote improved ties among entities dealing with international Net policy. The same officials who had chaired the negotiating group that proposed WGIG and who had led WGIG would now continue to shepherd these processes.

5. Stay Mainstream

If the end goal is to establish a permanent, centralized body for Internet governance under the UN, a key strategy at this stage is to show demand for central coordination and to demonstrate this capability in a mild way, as a facilitator.

In the forum process, the key is thus to focus on non-contentious issues that stakeholders say require international cooperation. The IGF has done so first by convening consultations and receiving written inputs to hear what stakeholders’ concerns are, and then by selecting problems nobody can deny (e.g., spam and online child pornography) for concerted efforts. The IGF then facilitates dialogue by offering a forum where stakeholders in a position to tackle issues collectively can meet.

In addition to starting with non-contentious issues, it makes sense to categorize work under banners that nobody can disagree with politically, such as the themes of IGF meetings in Athens (2006) and Rio de Janeiro (2007): “Access”, “Diversity”, “Openness”, “Security”, and “Critical Internet Resources”. Such banners help to avoid conflict concerning values (e.g., human rights) and allay qualms on the part of governments that fear the process will force them to make changes. After all, at this point governments are still the decision-makers in the international system.

It is also strategic to continue with the arrangement that dilutes the power of those who stand to lose, i.e. governments. As long as non-state actors are present, they will issue calls for equal air time and wish to be on the same footing as governments. All that the organizers need to do is to create space for the non-governmental stakeholders.

(Of course, sometimes these stakeholders can stand a little prodding. By way of illustration, the first “Dynamic Coalition” on its surface seemed to spring up spontaneously as a result of a multi-stakeholder panel on privacy at the first IGF meeting in 2006. While this and later Dynamic Coalitions are billed as something that stakeholders came up with, in fact it was an official from a government that favors a restructuring of Internet governance who planted the idea. These Dynamic Coalitions in turn have become the recognized vehicles for civil society input to IGF meetings. In their meetings between IGF meetings, they are helping to give institutional form to the IGF.)

Turning to the process of “enhanced cooperation,” it is strategically important to take a somewhat passive approach initially, since being too proactive could alert people to a trend toward institutionalization and backfire. Instead, what is required at this juncture is to appear nonchalant. By inviting agencies involved in Internet governance to initiate their own cooperation and to report on it, the process leaders can avoid criticism for trying to promote centralization. Most likely, these agencies will prove reluctant to respond, for they are not subject to this enhanced cooperation process and do not wish to create the impression that they are. They have no real way to object, however, for an organized, collective response can be converted into a sign of success in the process’ ability to promote cooperation; meanwhile, simply remaining silent does not alert others to the inappropriateness of the enhanced cooperation process’ telling them what to do. They are stymied.

6. Celebrate Harmony

It is foreseeable that the IGF will use its five-year mandate not to establish any sort of ranking of concerns, but rather to show that there is a mish-mash of concerns, and that so far the process has shown constructive engagement among all stakeholders.

Stakeholder groups will still be responding to the call for participation and coming together to clamor for attention. Their own processes will have become more streamlined and formalized. Not only will they help to give the impression that there is demand for a permanent body in which people can talk, but also they will serve to show that the IGF has materialized into a veritable structure. As suggested above, the meetings-between-meetings by self-organized, multi-stakeholder groups like Dynamic Coalitions represent a sort of institutionalization of the IGF.

Even voices of dissent can be translated into expressions of support, cited as evidence that the process is inclusive. Once the IGF has demonstrated its capacity to serve as an inclusive forum where all views may be expressed and heard, who will be able to argue against it? Making the case for a permanent body just got easier.

7. Salvage Cooperation

With reference to the process of enhanced cooperation, the agencies involved in Internet policy are unlikely to fall in line with the dictates of a process that has no authority over them. Hence, they will appear recalcitrant. It will then be logical and acceptable for the light-handed coordinators of the process to assume more pro-active positions.

8. Become Established

Under the bicycle theory, certain government delegates advocate keeping the momentum going and establishing a permanent body to continue the forum’s process of dialogue in an institutionalized fashion. (They may do so, for example, at a follow-up, WSIS-style meeting.) As for enhanced cooperation, the pro-centralization group may call attention to the fact that agencies dealing with the Internet have been slow to exchange information, suggesting that decision-makers should give central organizers a greater role in prompting cooperation. If made permanent, the scope of such mandates will likely expand as the Internet becomes more and more pervasive in the information society.

9. Expand Authority

Once established as a permanent body to host discussions and coordinate agencies, the institution can begin to exercise more authority. This movement appears natural as the institution becomes indispensable in serving as a central point for information exchange. Early efforts will entail convening meetings, coordinating among agencies, and conducting consultations.

Having set a precedent for exercising authority, the body takes on additional functions incrementally. In this way, the institution will morph from being a place for information exchange, to being a place where decisions of consequence are taken. Leaders may justify this expansion of functions as fitting under the body’s coordination role: after all, it is only natural that coordination would begin to affect the actual workings of Internet policy. To strengthen their position, these leaders can highlight improvements in agencies’ operations due to the cooperation.

After a period, organizers may see to it that proposals are put forward to expand the institution’s official authority and to formalize what it has been practicing. So, for example, instead of just discussing public policy issues related to Internet Governance, members can set policy at meetings hosted by the institution; this would be a logical juncture to add other competencies as well, such as the management of critical Internet resources and dispute resolution.

TO FOLLOW
The last essay in this three-part series will discuss reasons for concern and suggest that participation in the process may nonetheless be the best way forward given those reservations.

This essay is the first of a three-part series (2, 3). It focuses on the steps of a possible roadmap for centralizing Internet governance under the UN.

INTRODUCTION

As part of the Tunis Agenda for the Information Society that resulted from the United Nations (UN) World Summit on the Information Society (WSIS), governments agreed to set in motion an Internet Governance Forum (IGF), mandating it, among other tasks, to: “Discuss public policy issues related to key elements of Internet Governance…”; “Identify emerging issues…”; “Discuss, inter alia, issues relating to critical Internet resources”; and “Help to find solutions to the issues arising from the use and misuse of the Internet…”

People familiar with this version of international Internet governance* primarily fall into two camps: gung-ho-ers and nay-say-ers. There is a third group as well, who share some characteristics of both camps.

In the gung-ho group are people who are excited about the prospect of Internet public policy taking place under the United Nations (UN) umbrella. This group includes: many individuals from non-governmental organizations (NGOs) who enjoy having their voices heard in international discussions on Internet governance; some government officials who embrace the idea of shared control over the Internet; and assorted academics who see a new field of study emerging and relish being at the forefront.

In the nay-sayer camp are people who believe that there is much hype, but little substance, in the talk of international Internet governance. This group includes: various technologists who see the distributed approach to Internet control as natural and who shun restrictive regulation; some government officials who believe a single government can and should go it alone; select academics who see governments as still operating quite independently when it comes to steering the Internet; and many business people who view the whole discussion as a lot of hot air with little chance for substantive impact.

There is a third camp who see the UN process as pointing to UN control over the Internet and do not accept the legitimacy of this campaign. This group views the UN’s treatment of Internet governance as falsely lending the appearance of being ad hoc and auspiciously adaptive; to this group the activity seems more akin to an orchestrated, top-down plan that amounts to a roadmap for UN takeover of Internet governance. Whether this group is supportive of centralized Internet governance is not the point here – rather, the issue is that they disagree with the process because they see it as a sham.

This series of essays is written from the point of view of a person in the third camp. The essays tell how, despite its semblance of spontaneity, the UN’s Internet governance activity actually bears the markings of a well-mapped out plan: a plan for establishing a permanent, international body to oversee global Internet policy – in other words, centralized Internet governance.

The compilation suggests that the UN course so far can be seen as pursuing the same incremental steps that international strategists follow when wishing to establish a permanent body with authority to deal with a given area. The box below outlines these steps.

Steps for establishing a permanent, international body with authority

1. Launch Study – Suggest the creation of a study group to figure out how best to treat issues; this group should report back after a set time.

2. Be Inclusive – Open discussion in a way that elevates likely supporters and dilutes the power of those who stand to lose.

3. Avoid Conclusions – To seem innocuous and disarm those fearing change, limit results with an inconclusive final report; make it clear that more work is necessary.

4. Receive Commission – Set in motion processes to (a) facilitate dialogue, and (b) promote information exchange (“cooperation”) among relevant agencies.

5. Stay Mainstream – Initiate work on non-contentious issues. Be perceived as a facilitator responding to demand, not a driver pushing centralization.

6. Celebrate Harmony – At the end of the time period set for discussion, call attention to achievements in bringing groups together and navigating through rough terrain; show how the process has materialized.

7. Salvage Cooperation – Use the lack of response in the cooperation process to draw attention to the need for leadership.

8. Become Established – Watch collaborators in a decision-making group successfully advocate keeping the momentum going by establishing a permanent body to continue the process in an institutionalized fashion.

9. Expand Authority – Assume additional functions to expand authority over time.

TO FOLLOW

The second essay in this series describes the application of these steps in the context of UN Internet governance as some would have it. The third essay highlights some reasons for concern and suggests that participation in the process may nonetheless be the best way forward given those reservations.

* The term “Internet governance” deserves an explanation. Because the UN’s Working Group on Internet Governance defined the term for the purposes of UN discussions, and because the UN’s moves in this area are a main concern here, this paper uses their wide definition: “Internet governance is the development and application by Governments, the private sector and civil society, in their respective roles, of shared principles, norms, rules, decision-making procedures, and programmes that shape the evolution and use of the Internet.” This broad definition is interesting because it means that UN work on Internet governance is not limited to Internet addressing and routing (e.g., matters handled by the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers, or ICANN) or matters relating strictly to the seven layers of the Internet’s infrastructure (dealt with by groups like the Internet Engineering Task Force, or IETF); rather, the definition allows UN work on Internet governance to expand outward and encapsulate anything relating to the evolution or use of the Internet.

We use digital technologies in ways that are both constructive and disruptive. These technologies make it possible, for instance, for any citizen to speak her mind in a networked public sphere and to be heard by other people just about anywhere else in the world. While this freedom represents a revolution for human rights and democracy, it also makes the harm that her speech can cause much greater. Her speech might be defamatory; or it might be obscene, perhaps unfit for children to hear; or it might be disrespectful to the sovereign of a state far away from where she published it. That sovereign might want to keep anyone in his state from hearing her.

National and international disputes arise from everyday interactions online, like publishing text and video. Within states, people argue about how much to regulate interactions that are mediated by the Internet, like discussions in chat rooms, commercial transactions, and gambling. States are beginning to attack one another in the newly militarized zone of cyberspace. States fight over control of intellectual property that flows across national boundaries. Leaders get very exercised about the way that web site naming conventions and other technical protocols work and about the power of the institutions that manage them.

While the interactions between states and international bodies are paramount, their power knows limits online; their influence must occur alongside that of the companies, markets, and users that comprise the Net. The code and services offered by companies and the coordination provided by markets, have an enormous impact on how online life is governed—they create rules about what we can and cannot do. Those of us who spend a lot of time on the Net – netizens – ourselves are establishing norms that further govern our collective experience online. Groups form and disband quickly. Those that stick around can amass great capacity to include, empower, and exclude. The ability to govern activities online is not the exclusive province of the state, and the line between public and private action is getting blurrier, not clearer, as more of life moves into the networked public sphere.

The Net is in the midst of a constitutional moment that’s unusual, if not unique in world history. Our argument is that we are together participating in a series of constitutional moments, taking place all the time, all around the world. And unlike previous constitutional moments, such as the late eighteenth century in the United States, many more people have a means of shaping the outcome.

The Publius project intends to draw out and record for posterity the diverse voices of those participating in these rolling constitutional moments. We are publishing the arguments of those who are exploring these many processes of decision-making and governance online. Our goal is to illuminate our collective experience and to provide a forum for strong points of view to emerge. We want to shine light on the nuances at the margins of decision-making online. We mean to encourage the Internet community to provoke one another, to inform ourselves, and to listen to others with different experiences. In the process, it’s our goal to help empower individuals, groups, companies, states, and international bodies to work together for the common good, especially as these constitutional moments come in wave after wave, breaking all around us.

John Palfrey, Cambridge, MA, May 12, 2008

Ken Banks

Judith Donath

Melanie Dulong de Rosnay

Esther Dyson

Jean-Claude Guédon

Melissa Hagemann

Lewis Hyde

Reed Hundt

David Johnson

Daisy Pignetti

JP Rangaswami

Doc Searls

Wendy Seltzer

Clay Shirky

Peter Suber

Pierre de Vries

David Weinberger

Kevin Werbach

Jonathan Zittrain

John Willinksy

Daithi Mac Sithigh

Charlie Leadbeater

Ten years later, those prescient questions remain, while daily decisions taken by diverse parties around the world are determining what sort of Internet we will have. By engaging in these debates now, we can still impact the outcomes: “(w)e are entering a time when our power to muck about with these structures that regulate is at an all-time high. It is imperative, then, that we understand just what to do with this power. And more important, what not to do.”

The Publius platform will bring these issues to the public in meaningful and relevant ways, all the while asking how traditional understandings of regulation, control and governance are manifest and constructed anew in cyberspace. Working from the premise that there are constitution-making moments occurring in quiet corners of the net all the time, we are asking the denizens of this space (and some outside of it) to describe the most significant of these moments, and what they are likely to be in the future. While the rapid pace of technological, business, and policy change may suggest that such moments are evanescent, we believe that the collection of these essays will shine light on the still-fresh online constitutional issues, particularly those related to control, human rights, identity, property, community, and democracy, that will engage us long into the future.

Relying on passionate essays that dissected both the overarching structure and the underlying beliefs animating the proposed Constitution, the Publius authors succeeded in generating public support for a strong national structure constituted of thirteen states. More than two hundred years later, The Federalist Papers remain an authority on the Constitution and provide an unparalleled view of the context that preceded its ratification.