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12/02/05
Technological Freedom Versus Technological Terror
Dale Carrico
Better Humans
Social discontent provoked by injustice is a primary trigger of violence and
unrest. But we are fast approaching—if we're not already there—the extraordinary
moment when technologies of abundance, intelligently administered, could provide
new means to alleviate at last the sources of such discontent. Meanwhile, these
same technologies will also provide new and relatively cheap means to express
discontent with unprecedented destructive impact.
I worry that while both of these points are understood well enough on their
own, they are rarely discussed together. This matters because what's potentially
emancipatory about new technologies is inseparable from what's potentially
devastating. The same digital networks that facilitate global communication and
trade render us vulnerable to global attacks from viruses, scams and spam. The
same science and technology that could revolutionize medicine could
revolutionize biowarfare. The same hypothesized capacity for nanoscale
self-replication that could ameliorate poverty also inspires panicky visions of
a world reduced to goo.
But the connection I have in mind goes deeper than the simple recognition
that new technologies bring both new powers and new risks. I believe that the
power of new technologies to redress the sources of legitimate social
discontent—to end global poverty, to promote universal health and education and
to develop abiding, genuinely representative and accountable public
institutions—provides the only way to manage the lethal power of emerging
weapons of mass destruction, as well as the relative ease with which they could
find their way into the hands of those who would express or exploit such
discontent.
Emerging threats
New technologies will be unprecedented in their creative and their
destructive power, as well as in their ubiquity, and this changes everything.
Two recent essays, one by Lawrence Lessig in the April edition of Wired magazine
and the other by Richard Rorty in the April 1 issue of the London Review of
Books, address this in similar terms. Their essays look at the problem of the
likely near-term development and proliferation of relatively cheap and massively
destructive new technologies such as bioengineered pathogens (Lessig) and
suitcase nukes (Rorty).
"Key technologies of the future—in particular, genetic engineering, nanotech,
and robotics (or GNR) because they are self-replicating and increasingly easier
to craft—would be radically more dangerous than technologies of the past,"
writes Lessig in terms that evoke an earlier essay by Bill Joy, but the
technophobic conclusions of which Lessig significantly rejects. "It is
impossibly hard to build an atomic bomb; when you build one, you've built just
one. But the equivalent evil implanted in a malevolent virus will become easier
to build, and if built, could become self-replicating. This is P2P
(peer-to-peer) meets WMD (weapons of mass destruction), producing IDDs (insanely
destructive devices)."
Rorty writes in a similar vein that "[w]ithin a year or two, suitcase-sized
nuclear weapons (crafted in Pakistan or North Korea) may be commercially
available. Eager customers will include not only rich playboys like Osama bin
Laden but also the leaders of various irredentist movements that have
metamorphosed into well-financed criminal gangs. Once such weapons are used in
Europe, whatever measures the interior ministers have previously agreed to
propose will seem inadequate."
It is probably inevitable that discussions of the threat of weaponized
emerging technologies will reflect the distress of the so-called contemporary
"War on Terror." But it is important to recognize that present-day terrorism,
however devastating, is a timid anticipation of the dangers and dilemmas to
come. The March 11, 2004 Madrid attacks made use of conventional explosives, and
the September 11, 2001 attacks in the US involved the crude hijacking and
repurposing of fuel-fat jets as missiles.
To the extent that these attacks have provoked as a response (or worse, have
provided a pretext for) "preemptive" and essentially unilateral military
adventures abroad, and assaults on civil liberties at home, it is difficult to
maintain much hope that we are mature enough as a civilization to cope with the
forces we have ourselves set in motion.
Between relinquishment and resignation
Both Lessig and Rorty anticipate that when confronted with the horrifying
reality or prospect of new technological threats the first impulse of the North
Atlantic democracies is almost certain to be misguided compensatory expansions
of state surveillance and control.
Both essays point to the likely futility of such efforts to perfectly police
the creation and traffic of unprecedented technologies. In the worst case, with
Lessig's designer pathogen or with the goo bestiary that preoccupies the
nightmares of nanotech Cassandras (and don't forget the whole story: Cassandra
was right!), we are confronted with the prospect of new massively destructive
technologies that might be cooked up in obscure laboratories at comparably
modest costs, using easily obtainable materials, employing techniques in the
public domain and distributed via stealthy networks.
In the Joy essay that inspired Lessig's piece, the epic scale of threats
posed by emerging technologies prompted Joy to recommend banning their
development altogether.
The typical rejoinder to Joy's proposal of principled "relinquishment" is
that it is unenforceable, and would simply shift the development and use of
these technologies to less scrupulous people and less regulated conditions. All
of this would, of course, exacerbate the very risks the ban would be enacted to
reduce.
Definitely I agree with this rejoinder, but it's important not to misapply
its insights. The fact that laws prohibiting murder don't eliminate the practice
doesn't mean we should strike them off the books. If Joy's technological
relinquishment was the best or only hope for humanity's survival, then we would
of course be obliged to pursue it whatever the challenges.
But surely the stronger reason to question relinquishment is simply that it
would deny us the extraordinary benefits of emerging technologies—spectacularly
safe, strong, cheap materials and manufactured goods; abundant foodstuffs; new
renewable energy technologies; and incomparably effective medical interventions.
Technophiles often seem altogether too eager to claim that technological
regulation is unenforceable, or that developmental outcomes they desire are
"inevitable." But of course the shape that development will take—its pace,
distribution, applications—is anything but inevitable. And all technological
development is obviously and absolutely susceptible to regulation, for good or
ill, by laws, norms, market forces and structural limits.
Negative libertarian technophiles such as Ronald Bailey sometimes seem to
suggest that any effort to regulate technological development at all is
tantamount to Joy's desire to ban it altogether. Bailey counters both Joy's
relinquishment thesis and Lessig's more modest proposals with a faith that
"robust" science on its own is best able to defend against the threats science
itself unleashes. This is an argument and even a faith I largely share with him,
but only to the extent that we recognize how much of what makes science "robust"
is produced and maintained in the context of well-supported research traditions,
stable institutions, steady funding and rigorous oversight, most of which look
quite like the "regulation" that negative libertarians otherwise rail against.
For me, robust scientific culture looks like the fragile attainment of
democratic civilization, not some "spontaneous order."
So too "deregulation" is a tactic that is obviously occasionally useful
within the context of a broader commitment to reform and good regulation. But
treated as an end in itself the interminable market fundamentalist drumbeat of
"deregulation"—so prevalent among especially American technophiles—amounts to an
advocacy of lawlessness. Does this really seem the best time to call for
lawlessness?
Negative libertarian ideologues often promote a policy of "market"
resignation that seems to me exactly as disastrous in its consequences as Joy's
recommendation of relinquishment.
In fact, the consequence of both policies seems precisely the same—to abandon
technological development to the least scrupulous, least deliberative, least
accountable forces on offer. My point is not to demonize commerce, of course,
but simply to recognize that good governance encourages good and discourages
antisocial business practices, while a healthy business climate is likewise the
best buttress to good democratic governance.
While I am quite happy to leave the question of just which toothbrush
consumers prefer to market forces, it seems to me a kind of lunacy to suggest
that the answer to coping with emerging existential technological threats is,
"Let the market decide." What we need is neither resignation nor relinquishment,
but critical deliberation and reasonable regulation.
Reasonably hopeful
Lessig and Rorty make different but complementary recommendations in the face
of the dreadful quandaries of cheap and ubiquitous, massively destructive
emerging technologies. Taken together, these recommendations provide the basis
for a more reasonable and hopeful strategy.
Rorty insists, first and foremost, that citizens in the North Atlantic
democracies must challenge what he describes as "the culture of government
secrecy." "Demands for government openness should start in the areas of nuclear
weaponry and of intelligence-gathering," which are, he points out, "the places
where the post-World War Two obsession with secrecy began." More specifically,
we must demand that our governments "publish the facts about their stockpiles of
weapons of mass destruction [and] make public the details of two sets of planned
responses: one to the use of such weapons by other governments, and another for
their use by criminal gangs such as al-Qaida."
He goes on to point out that "[i]f Western governments were made to disclose
and discuss what they plan to do in various sorts of emergency, it would at
least be slightly harder for demagogic leaders to argue that the most recent
attack justifies them in doing whatever they like. Crises are less likely to
produce institutional change, and to have unpredictable results, if they have
been foreseen and publicly discussed."
Never has the need for global collaboration been more conspicuous. Never has
the need to unleash the collective, creative, critical intelligence of humanity
been more urgent. And yet the contemporary culture of the "War on Terror" has
seemed downright hostile to intelligence in all its forms. Efforts to understand
the social conditions that promote terror are regularly dismissed as
"appeasement." Critical thinking about our response to terror is routinely
denigrated as "treason." Authorities strive to insulate their conduct from
criticism and scrutiny behind veils of secrecy in the name of "security." (And
all of this is depressingly of a piece, of course, with the current US
administration's assaults on environmental science, genetic research, sex
education and the rest.)
It is no wonder so many of us fear the "War on Terror" quite as much as we
fear terrorism itself. But how much more damaging than the self-defeating and
authoritarian responses to conventional terrorism can we expect the response to
the emerging threats of Lessig's "Insanely Destructive Devices" to be?
When devastating technologies become cheap and ubiquitous we must redress the
social discontent that makes their misuse seem justifiable to more people than
we can ever hope to manage or police. Since we cannot hope to halt the
development of all the cheap, disastrously weaponizable technologies on the
horizon, nor can we hope to perfectly control their every use, Lessig suggests
that "perhaps the rational response is to reduce the incentives to attack.maybe
we should focus on ways to eliminate the reasons to annihilate us." Fantasies of
an absolute control over these technologies, or of an absolute control through
technology (SDI and its epigones, anyone?), are sure to exacerbate the very
discontent that will make their misuse more widespread.
Anticipating the inevitable objection, Lessig is quick to point out that
"[c]razies, of course, can't be reasoned with. But we can reduce the incentives
to become a crazy. We could reduce the reasonableness—from a certain
perspective—for finding ways to destroy us." Criminals, fanatics and madmen are
in fact a manageable minority in any culture (racist know-nothing slogans about
a so-called "Clash of Civilizations" certainly notwithstanding), and although
there is no question that Lessig's "Insanely Destructive Devices" could still do
irreparable harm in their hands, it is profoundly misleading to focus on the
threats posed by crazy and criminal minorities when it is as often as not the
exploitation of legitimate social discontent that makes it possible for lone
gunmen to recruit armies to their "causes."
Lessig concludes that "[t]here's a logic to P2P threats that we as a society
don't yet get. Like the record companies against the Internet, our first
response is war. But like the record companies, that response will be either
futile or self-destructive. If you can't control the supply of IDDs, then the
right response is to reduce the demand for IDDs.[Instead, America's] present
course of unilateral cowboyism will continue to produce generations of angry
souls seeking revenge on us."
For generations, progressives have sought to ameliorate the suffering of the
wretched of the Earth. We have struggled to diminish poverty, widen the
franchise and ensure through education and shared prosperity that more and more
people (though still obscenely too few people) have a personal stake as citizens
in their societies. We have fought for these things because we have been moved
by the tragedy of avoidable suffering, and by the unspeakable waste of
intelligence, creativity and pleasure that is denied us all when any human being
is oppressed into silence by poverty or tyranny.
The emerging threat of cheap and ubiquitous, massively destructive
technologies provides a new reason to redress social injustice and the
discontent it inspires (for those of you who needed another reason): The
existence of injustice anywhere might soon threaten you quite literally, and
needlessly, with destruction.
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