#shitty technology adoption curve

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Autoenshittification

Forget F1: the only car race that matters now is the race to turn your car into a digital extraction machine, a high-speed inkjet printer on wheels, stealing your private data as it picks your pocket. Your car’s digital infrastructure is a costly, dangerous nightmare — but for automakers in pursuit of postcapitalist utopia, it’s a dream they can’t give up on.

Your car is stuffed full of microchips, a fact the world came to appreciate after the pandemic struck and auto production ground to a halt due to chip shortages. Of course, that wasn’t the whole story: when the pandemic started, the automakers panicked and canceled their chip orders, only to immediately regret that decision and place new orders.

But it was too late: semiconductor production had taken a serious body-blow, and when Big Car placed its new chip orders, it went to the back of a long, slow-moving line. It was a catastrophic bungle: microchips are so integral to car production that a car is basically a computer network on wheels that you stick your fragile human body into and pray.

The car manufacturers got so desperate for chips that they started buying up washing machines for the microchips in them, extracting the chips and discarding the washing machines like some absurdo-dystopian cyberpunk walnut-shelling machine:

https://www.autoevolution.com/news/desperate-times-companies-buy-washing-machines-just-to-rip-out-the-chips-187033.html

These digital systems are a huge problem for the car companies. They are the underlying cause of a precipitous decline in car quality. From touch-based digital door-locks to networked sensors and cameras, every digital system in your car is a source of endless repair nightmares, costly recalls and cybersecurity vulnerabilities:

https://www.reuters.com/business/autos-transportation/quality-new-vehicles-us-declining-more-tech-use-study-shows-2023-06-22/

What’s more, drivers hate all the digital bullshit, from the janky touchscreens to the shitty, wildly insecure apps. Digital systems are drivers’ most significant point of dissatisfaction with the automakers’ products:

https://www.theverge.com/23801545/car-infotainment-customer-satisifaction-survey-jd-power

Even the automakers sorta-kinda admit that this is a problem. Back in 2020 when Massachusetts was having a Right-to-Repair ballot initiative, Big Car ran these unfuckingbelievable scare ads that basically said, “Your car spies on you so comprehensively that giving anyone else access to its systems will let murderers stalk you to your home and kill you:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

But even amid all the complaining about cars getting stuck in the Internet of Shit, there’s still not much discussion of why the car-makers are making their products less attractive, less reliable, less safe, and less resilient by stuffing them full of microchips. Are car execs just the latest generation of rubes who’ve been suckered by Silicon Valley bullshit and convinced that apps are a magic path to profitability?

Nope. Car execs are sophisticated businesspeople, and they’re surfing capitalism’s latest — and last — hot trend: dismantling capitalism itself.

Now, leftists have been predicting the death of capitalism since The Communist Manifesto, but even Marx and Engels warned us not to get too frisky: capitalism, they wrote, is endlessly creative, constantly reinventing itself, re-emerging from each crisis in a new form that is perfectly adapted to the post-crisis reality:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

But capitalism has finally run out of gas. In his forthcoming book, Techno Feudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis proposes that capitalism has died — but it wasn’t replaced by socialism. Rather, capitalism has given way to feudalism:

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279

Under capitalism, capital is the prime mover. The people who own and mobilize capital — the capitalists — organize the economy and take the lion’s share of its returns. But it wasn’t always this way: for hundreds of years, European civilization was dominated by rents, not markets.

A “rent” is income that you get from owning something that other people need to produce value. Think of renting out a house you own: not only do you get paid when someone pays you to live there, you also get the benefit of rising property values, which are the result of the work that all the other homeowners, business owners, and residents do to make the neighborhood more valuable.

The first capitalists hated rent. They wanted to replace the “passive income” that landowners got from taxing their serfs’ harvest with active income from enclosing those lands and grazing sheep in order to get wool to feed to the new textile mills. They wanted active income — and lots of it.

Capitalist philosophers railed against rent. The “free market” of Adam Smith wasn’t a market that was free from regulation — it was a market free from rents. The reason Smith railed against monopolists is because he (correctly) understood that once a monopoly emerged, it would become a chokepoint through which a rentier could cream off the profits he considered the capitalist’s due:

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

Today, we live in a rentier’s paradise. People don’t aspire to create value — they aspire to capture it. In Survival of the Richest, Doug Rushkoff calls this “going meta”: don’t provide a service, just figure out a way to interpose yourself between the provider and the customer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn

Don’t drive a cab, create Uber and extract value from every driver and rider. Better still: don’t found Uber, invest in Uber options and extract value from the people who invest in Uber. Even better, invest in derivatives of Uber options and extract value from people extracting value from people investing in Uber, who extract value from drivers and riders. Go meta.

This is your brain on the four-hour-work-week, passive income mind-virus. In Techno Feudalism, Varoufakis deftly describes how the new “Cloud Capital” has created a new generation of rentiers, and how they have become the richest, most powerful people in human history.

Shopping at Amazon is like visiting a bustling city center full of stores — but each of those stores’ owners has to pay the majority of every sale to a feudal landlord, Emperor Jeff Bezos, who also decides which goods they can sell and where they must appear on the shelves. Amazon is full of capitalists, but it is not a capitalist enterprise. It’s a feudal one:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

This is the reason that automakers are willing to enshittify their products so comprehensively: they were one of the first industries to decouple rents from profits. Recall that the reason that Big Car needed billions in bailouts in 2008 is that they’d reinvented themselves as loan-sharks who incidentally made cars, lending money to car-buyers and then “securitizing” the loans so they could be traded in the capital markets.

Even though this strategy brought the car companies to the brink of ruin, it paid off in the long run. The car makers got billions in public money, paid their execs massive bonuses, gave billions to shareholders in buybacks and dividends, smashed their unions, fucked their pensioned workers, and shipped jobs anywhere they could pollute and murder their workforce with impunity.

Car companies are on the forefront of postcapitalism, and they understand that digital is the key to rent-extraction. Remember when BMW announced that it was going to rent you the seatwarmer in your own fucking car?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/02/big-river/#beemers

Not to be outdone, Mercedes announced that they were going to rent you your car’s accelerator pedal, charging an extra $1200/year to unlock a fully functional acceleration curve:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/23/23474969/mercedes-car-subscription-faster-acceleration-feature-price

This is the urinary tract infection business model: without digitization, all your car’s value flowed in a healthy stream. But once the car-makers add semiconductors, each one of those features comes out in a painful, burning dribble, with every button on that fakakta touchscreen wired directly into your credit-card.

But it’s just for starters. Computers are malleable. The only computer we know how to make is the Turing Complete Von Neumann Machine, which can run every program we know how to write. Once they add networked computers to your car, the Car Lords can endlessly twiddle the knobs on the back end, finding new ways to extract value from you:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

That means that your car can track your every movement, and sell your location data to anyone and everyone, from marketers to bounty-hunters looking to collect fees for tracking down people who travel out of state for abortions to cops to foreign spies:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/n7enex/tool-shows-if-car-selling-data-privacy4cars-vehicle-privacy-report

Digitization supercharges financialization. It lets car-makers offer subprime auto-loans to desperate, poor people and then killswitch their cars if they miss a payment:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U2eDJnwz_s

Subprime lending for cars would be a terrible business without computers, but digitization makes it a great source of feudal rents. Car dealers can originate loans to people with teaser rates that quickly blow up into payments the dealer knows their customer can’t afford. Then they repo the car and sell it to another desperate person, and another, and another:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/27/boricua/#looking-for-the-joke-with-a-microscope

Digitization also opens up more exotic options. Some subprime cars have secondary control systems wired into their entertainment system: miss a payment and your car radio flips to full volume and bellows an unstoppable, unmutable stream of threats. Tesla does one better: your car will lock and immobilize itself, then blare its horn and back out of its parking spot when the repo man arrives:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

Digital feudalism hasn’t stopped innovating — it’s just stopped innovating good things. The digital device is an endless source of sadistic novelties, like the cellphones that disable your most-used app the first day you’re late on a payment, then work their way down the other apps you rely on for every day you’re late:

https://restofworld.org/2021/loans-that-hijack-your-phone-are-coming-to-india/

Usurers have always relied on this kind of imaginative intimidation. The loan-shark’s arm-breaker knows you’re never going to get off the hook; his goal is in intimidating you into paying his boss first, liquidating your house and your kid’s college fund and your wedding ring before you default and he throws you off a building.

Thanks to the malleability of computerized systems, digital arm-breakers have an endless array of options they can deploy to motivate you into paying them first, no matter what it costs you:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Car-makers are trailblazers in imaginative rent-extraction. Take VIN-locking: this is the practice of adding cheap microchips to engine components that communicate with the car’s overall network. After a new part is installed in your car, your car’s computer does a complex cryptographic handshake with the part that requires an unlock code provided by an authorized technician. If the code isn’t entered, the car refuses to use that part.

VIN-locking has exploded in popularity. It’s in your iPhone, preventing you from using refurb or third-party replacement parts:

https://doctorow.medium.com/apples-cement-overshoes-329856288d13

It’s in fuckin’ ventilators, which was a nightmare during lockdown as hospital techs nursed their precious ventilators along by swapping parts from dead systems into serviceable ones:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/3azv9b/why-repair-techs-are-hacking-ventilators-with-diy-dongles-from-poland

And of course, it’s in tractors, along with other forms of remote killswitch. Remember that feelgood story about John Deere bricking the looted Ukrainian tractors whose snitch-chips showed they’d been relocated to Russia?

https://doctorow.medium.com/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors-bc93f471b9c8

That wasn’t a happy story — it was a cautionary tale. After all, John Deere now controls the majority of the world’s agricultural future, and they’ve boobytrapped those ubiquitous tractors with killswitches that can be activated by anyone who hacks, takes over, or suborns Deere or its dealerships.

Control over repair isn’t limited to gouging customers on parts and service. When a company gets to decide whether your device can be fixed, it can fuck you over in all kinds of ways. Back in 2019, Tim Apple told his shareholders to expect lower revenues because people were opting to fix their phones rather than replace them:

https://www.apple.com/newsroom/2019/01/letter-from-tim-cook-to-apple-investors/

By usurping your right to decide who fixes your phone, Apple gets to decide whether you can fix it, or whether you must replace it. Problem solved — and not just for Apple, but for car makers, tractor makers, ventilator makers and more. Apple leads on this, even ahead of Big Car, pioneering a “recycling” program that sees trade-in phones shredded so they can’t possibly be diverted from an e-waste dump and mined for parts:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks

John Deere isn’t sleeping on this. They’ve come up with a valuable treasure they extract when they win the Right-to-Repair: Deere singles out farmers who complain about its policies and refuses to repair their tractors, stranding them with six-figure, two-ton paperweight:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it

The repair wars are just a skirmish in a vast, invisible fight that’s been waged for decades: the War On General-Purpose Computing, where tech companies use the law to make it illegal for you to reconfigure your devices so they serve you, rather than their shareholders:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

The force behind this army is vast and grows larger every day. General purpose computers are antithetical to technofeudalism — all the rents extracted by technofeudalists would go away if others (tinkereres, co-ops, even capitalists!) were allowed to reconfigure our devices so they serve us.

You’ve probably noticed the skirmishes with inkjet printer makers, who can only force you to buy their ink at 20,000% markups if they can stop you from deciding how your printer is configured:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty But we’re also fighting against insulin pump makers, who want to turn people with diabetes into walking inkjet printers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/10/loopers/#hp-ification

And companies that make powered wheelchairs:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/08/chair-ish/#r2r

These companies start with people who have the least agency and social power and wreck their lives, then work their way up the privilege gradient, coming for everyone else. It’s called the “shitty technology adoption curve”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Technofeudalism is the public-private-partnership from hell, emerging from a combination of state and private action. On the one hand, bailing out bankers and big business (rather than workers) after the 2008 crash and the covid lockdown decoupled income from profits. Companies spent billions more than they earned were still wildly profitable, thanks to those public funds.

But there’s also a policy dimension here. Some of those rentiers’ billions were mobilized to both deconstruct antitrust law (allowing bigger and bigger companies and cartels) and to expand “IP” law, turning “IP” into a toolsuite for controlling the conduct of a firm’s competitors, critics and customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

IP is key to understanding the rise of technofeudalism. The same malleability that allows companies to “twiddle” the knobs on their services and keep us on the hook as they reel us in would hypothetically allow us to countertwiddle, seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

The thing that stands between you and an alternative app store, an interoperable social media network that you can escape to while continuing to message the friends you left behind, or a car that anyone can fix or unlock features for is IP, not technology. Under capitalism, that technology would already exist, because capitalists have no loyalty to one another and view each other’s margins as their own opportunities.

But under technofeudalism, control comes from rents (owning things), not profits (selling things). The capitalist who wants to participate in your iPhone’s “ecosystem” has to make apps and submit them to Apple, along with 30% of their lifetime revenues — they don’t get to sell you jailbreaking kit that lets you choose their app store.

Rent-seeking technology has a holy grail: control over “ring zero” — the ability to compel you to configure your computer to a feudalist’s specifications, and to verify that you haven’t altered your computer after it came into your possession:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/30/ring-minus-one/#drm-political-economy

For more than two decades, various would-be feudal lords and their court sorcerers have been pitching ways of doing this, of varying degrees of outlandishness.

At core, here’s what they envision: inside your computer, they will nest another computer, one that is designed to run a very simple set of programs, none of which can be altered once it leaves the factory. This computer — either a whole separate chip called a “Trusted Platform Module” or a region of your main processor called a secure enclave — can tally observations about your computer: which operating system, modules and programs it’s running.

Then it can cryptographically “sign” these observations, proving that they were made by a secure chip and not by something you could have modified. Then you can send this signed “attestation” to someone else, who can use it to determine how your computer is configured and thus whether to trust it. This is called “remote attestation.”

There are some cool things you can do with remote attestation: for example, two strangers playing a networked video game together can use attestations to make sure neither is running any cheat modules. Or you could require your cloud computing provider to use attestations that they aren’t stealing your data from the server you’re renting. Or if you suspect that your computer has been infected with malware, you can connect to someone else and send them an attestation that they can use to figure out whether you should trust it.

Today, there’s a cool remote attestation technology called “PrivacyPass” that replaces CAPTCHAs by having you prove to your own device that you are a human. When a server wants to make sure you’re a person, it sends a random number to your device, which signs that number along with its promise that it is acting on behalf of a human being, and sends it back. CAPTCHAs are all kinds of bad — bad for accessibility and privacy — and this is really great.

But the billions that have been thrown at remote attestation over the decades is only incidentally about solving CAPTCHAs or verifying your cloud server. The holy grail here is being able to make sure that you’re not running an ad-blocker. It’s being able to remotely verify that you haven’t disabled the bossware your employer requires. It’s the power to block someone from opening an Office365 doc with LibreOffice. It’s your boss’s ability to ensure that you haven’t modified your messaging client to disable disappearing messages before he sends you an auto-destructing memo ordering you to break the law.

And there’s a new remote attestation technology making the rounds: Google’s Web Environment Integrity, which will leverage Google’s dominance over browsers to allow websites to block users who run ad-blockers:

https://github.com/RupertBenWiser/Web-Environment-Integrity

There’s plenty else WEI can do (it would make detecting ad-fraud much easier), but for every legitimate use, there are a hundred ways this could be abused. It’s a technology purpose-built to allow rent extraction by stripping us of our right to technological self-determination.

Releasing a technology like this into a world where companies are willing to make their products less reliable, less attractive, less safe and less resilient in pursuit of rents is incredibly reckless and shortsighted. You want unauthorized bread? This is how you get Unauthorized Bread:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/amp/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

[Image ID: The interior of a luxury car. There is a dagger protruding from the steering wheel. The entertainment console has been replaced by the text 'You wouldn't download a car,' in MPAA scare-ad font. Outside of the windscreen looms the Matrix waterfall effect. Visible in the rear- and side-view mirror is the driver: the figure from Munch's 'Scream.' The screen behind the steering-wheel has been replaced by the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.']

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[azspot]

Here's how the shitty technology adoption curve works: when you want to roll out a new, abusive technology, look for a group of vulnerable people whose complaints are roundly ignored and subject them to your bad idea. Sand the rough edges off on their bodies and lives. Normalize the technological abuse you seek to inflict.

Prison-tech is a brutal scam – and a harbinger of your future

[hackernewsrobot]

Cory Doctorow: The Shitty Technology Adoption Curve Reaches Apogee

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust Comments

[supernovafeather]

Professional Asshole

Nathan Bateman x F!Reader

Warnings: sexual content, sexual tension, swearing, mention of sexism in the workplace.

- - - - - - - -

This shouldn't be so hard to keep this smile on your face but this man is... infuriating. Not that you were not expecting this kind of behavior from a guy like him. Nathan Bateman isn't known for his... benevolent side. And even if he were you would be careful. In business and technology, no one is innocent. Add raw power, money and ego to that equation and this becomes something consuming souls in a matter of days. There are only sharks and bigger sharks in this world. You still have to decide whether he is a Megalodon or not.

Still, you keep your hands clasped in front of you as you stand in front of the rambling man. Painful feet due to your high heels shoes, a pencil skirt flirting too closely with your curves for your taste, a white shirt covered by a black jacket, and a tight bun. Perfect clothing to make you boil even more in the inside as you stare at the billionaire, his hands on his hips. He is handsome, that's for sure, sweating like this in his tank top. But this would be better without the smell so early in the morning.

"... but as you should know Investments are not what I am looking for right now," he says with a tone both confident and cocky. "I am almost sorry you had to come here. I guess I am especially efficient at disappointing women."

You raise an eyebrow at him, barely surprised by the joke pronounced with this proud grin. As if this is the first time you have to hear such bullshit from a man seeing himself superior to you.

"Mr.Bateman, the fact that you are unable to satisfy women, and even more important, to respect them, is none of my business. I am here to talk about opportunities that could give you access to new projects. You are a man taking part to changing our future and..." you say politely but firmly before stopping as he laughs sarcastically, rubbing the back of his shaved head with his hand, staring at you with these amused dark eyes.

"I know how it works with your corporation, I had to deal with your boss before. It's not because he decided to send a woman like you that I will change my position on this deal," he replies while crossing his arms, his eyebrows raised and tilting his head. "He could have sent me some boring and shitty email or something like that."

A few years before you would have reacted by the way he said "a woman like you", but you don't even try to open your mouth about it, you know what he implies by this. You are a woman who had to adopt a perfect appearance subtly sexualised to distract your target while hiding some important lines in contracts. You are a weapon for your corporation. Bateman knows it perfectly. Maybe this freak doesn't think only with his dick then. He remains a "genius" among hundreds other in technology after all.

"Yes, he could have done such a thing indeed," you say with a slight nod and in a calm voice. "But his choice is clear."

"I don't give a fuck about his choice."

At least he is still honest about his opinion. You don't know exactly what happened between your corporation and him but this seems pretty serious. However your mistake is made by hesitating for a tiny second, his little cocky smile coming back as he rubs his bearded cheek, his fingers scratching his dark facial hair.

"You know what ? I like my freedom of action. You see everything around us ? That's mine. Because I trusted my own guts and my genius. I can boxe, go hiking, create my own shit all day and all night if I want, I could even walk all around this place naked and touch my dick all the time without anyone to tell me not to do that. You, you have to obey your boss, smiling to me, dressing like some randomly hot business woman, no freedom at all even three hours away from your this asshole."

This time a silent and exasperated sigh escapes your lips when he turns his back to you, and you notice for the first time his hips and buttocks under his clothes. It's a scandal how this man can act literally like an arrogant drama queen sometimes. He even manages to make you jealous of his own curves. That's fucking absurd. Fortunately you raise your head just in time as he turns around, sitting on a table of his living room as he points his finger to you, resuming his speech.

"You may be randomly hot - at least I can admit you're hot - but I see you're a clever woman who wants to slap me in the face and probably bury me in my own garden with an evil laugh, I can see it in your eyes, please don't lie. You know you're a tool and..."

"I am here for a contract. Not to hear you rambling about how hot I am, I can't care less," you say with a neutral face as he rests his hands on the table under him, his muscles shifting under his skin as he squints at you behind his glasses.

"Please, I have been clear. You can tell your boss that this contract is bullshit."

Gritting your teeth, you come closer to him, your eyes locking with his as you notice the change in their brightness, turning to something more aggressive. He can feel this animosity in you as you are almost ready to explode. You woke up by 4 am this morning to talk to him. To sign this contract. Your boss had been putting so much pressure on your shoulders. Many sleepless nights with all these boring meetings. You won't fail.

"This contract may be bullshit according to you, but you don't have any argument against it. Are you a genius or a dumb arrogant bitch convinced he can dominate the world just because he wants to do so ?"

Still boiling, you have to bare the loud laugh of this asshole as he crosses his arms, shaking his head.

"Damn it, for a frustrated professional you seem even more impulsive than I thought. Keep calling me bitch with this tone and I may sign your crap right away, I could start to like it, who knows. Oh and by the way, yes, I could dominate this world one day."

Once his hilarity has passed the same aggressive look is back in his eyes, like taunting you to make you go further.

"I am not a frustrated professional, Bateman. I am just amazed that a guy like you can act like a child just because he refuses to sign some paper."

"Oh I'm not Mr.Bateman anymore for you? What a shame. As you seem to like changing my name, please call me God next time."

That's a joke. That must be a joke. Apparently not. This guy also has a God complex. Great. As if the world needed another man like that, especially this powerful and influent.

"You'll have to choose between God and bitch."

This makes him chuckle as he leaves the table, standing up to walk up to you, his cold face right in front of yours as he talks slowly, moving his lips excessively to annoy you. And his eyes... you don't know if you want to slap him or kiss him to make him shut his mouth.

"Please express your anger. Show me what's under this mask of yours, lady. I'm starting to think they can't be serious by sending me a woman so easy to upset. Finally something interesting in what you tell me."

"I can also tell you to bend over your own stupid table to let me stuff that contract into your fucking anus Bateman."

"Kinky. That's a new strategy they teach you ? I'm all in. Must be difficult to stuff so many pages into that space. Perhaps I should try with yours. Not sure it's more dilated than mine as I can tell by your attitude though."

Scoffing, you don't even move as he raises his eyebrows, waiting for your next answer. He is definitely a bitch.

"I have known many assholes in my life but you are one of the worst ones. And I am clearly not the one being frustrated here. The guy begging to be called God and to get sheets of paper stuffed into his own ass. You must feel sad here, I wouldn't wish anything like this to anyone."

He squints at you, humming gently in a way you find... kinda hot ? You can't deny his charisma, his nonchalance. He is clearly among those who can't care less about the world around them. He is purely centered on his own person. Nothing new.

"You are frustrated by a frustrating guy," he replies with a shit-eating grin. "You're a tigress who is used to get whatever she wants because people are too stupid, ready to obey her just because she is fricking hot and has this little smile. And now that you have a guy refusing to sign some of your shit, you hate me, because you hate yourself and your life. Am I right ?"

This time you are the one letting a sarcastic chuckle out, however your shaky angry voice only makes him bite his bottom lip as your heartbeat quickens.

"What the fuck is your problem Bateman," you say as you press your forefinger on his chest, his eyes lowering briefly to it before turning back to your face. "Just tell me you don't want to have anything to do with..."

"I have told you several times that I won't sign that crap," he whispers with a slight grin. "You are the one sticking to me like a leech."

"Tigress, leech... you don't seem to be able to stick to a precise nickname neither."

"This time you are the one deviating the conversation," he says as you let him get closer to you, some warmth spreading on your cheeks as he whispers. "Is there anything I can help you with ? I think you are looking for something."

Your silence lasts for a few silent seconds as your tolerance for his proximity turns more and more into appreciation. There is a strange shot of adrenaline traveling in your veins throughout your body. This man is... interesting. Insulting, infuriating, but interesting. It's not everyday that you can meet people like him. Is it a gift or a curse, you're not even sure.

The way he hums a question so close to your lips makes you give up any self control remaining. It's strange, like if you were being hypnotized with a guy snapping his fingers in front of you. But you don't even feel guilty of anything as you crash your lips against his so eagerly that he rests his hands firmly on your hips, his palms reaching your buttocks soon after as your tongues battle. Your own stubbornness gets even worse as his hands manage to drop your pencil skirt to the floor, and his moan echoing in your mouth as you deepen the kiss to take your revenge is totally satisfying.

- - - - -

Thanks for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! ☺️

[inotherverse]

I’ll Be Home For DedSec (Marcus/Wrench)

ONLY A DAY LATE FOR THAT GOOD CHRISTMAS FIC HERE WE GO

also I haven’t finished the game asdfghj I still have to play the last mission but I think this is still canon compliant???

also u can read it on ao3 if you’d like gimme a kudos hell yeah

thanks bl;pealse enjoy

“What’re you doing here, man? You know it’s Christmas, right?”

Wrench turned at the sound of the voice and saw Marcus coming down the stairs of the hackerspace, smiling playfully at him.

“Do I really seem the type to celebrate, M?” he said, turning back to his work, already comfortable with the second presence in the room. “Get drunk at somebody else’s party, maybe, but I’m not a ‘spend time with family, get all warm and fuzzy inside’ kinda guy.”

“Still, go home, take a break, watch a shitty holiday movie. It’s a holiday, use other people’s religion as an excuse to slack off like the rest of us,” Marcus said, coming to stand just behind Wrench at his workbench.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wrench looked at Marcus over his shoulder. “Hey, and what about you? Why are you here?”

“‘Cause I knew you’d be here,” Marcus said, with a smug smile playing at his lips.

Wrench laughed softly. “Yeah? And shouldn’t you be, like, with your family right now?”

“I’m going later,” He said, walking forward to stand next to him. “What’re you even working on down here?”

“Jumper upgrades, mostly. There’s not much else to do,” Wrench gestured to the guts of the jumper in front of him, spread out on the table, along with some other technological odds and ends. “Well, actually, I’m sure there’s a lot of rich and powerful people getting drunk in a room together somewhere...” the screen of his masked showed two capital O’s as he looked imploringly at Marcus.

“Eh, we’ll get ‘em on New Year’s,” Marcus said, dismissing Wrench’s suggestion with a wave of his hand. “Take a break, come with me,” He took a few steps backwards toward the stairs, ushering Wrench to follow him.

“Where are we going?” Wrench asked, looking for a stopping point in what he was doing.

“The garage.”

“Why are we going to the garage?”

“Because your Christmas present is at the garage.”

Wrench paused. “Oh. I—”

“It’s not a car.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“I know, but. It’s at the garage. I didn’t want you to think it was a car.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Because it’s not a car. And that would be, like, disappointing.”

“Yeah.” Wrench was now facing Marcus fully, the jumper forgotten at the mention of gifts. “I was just gonna say—”

“You were going to say something like, you’re surprised, or ‘oh, I didn’t get you anything,’ or whatever, right? I don’t care, man, just c’mon!” Marcus said, turning his back on Wrench and going up the stairs.

“Alright, alright! I’m coming!” Wrench called after him, quickly crossing the room to catch up. “You’re way too excited about whatever this is.”

“No, I’m really not,” Marcus turned his smiling face on him, looking a little too mischievous.

“Sure,” Wrench gave him a small shove up the stairs. “And do you really need to wear a turtleneck and a coat in California? I get it’s Christmas, but you look like a love interest in a shitty Hallmark movie.”

Marcus sighed. “I’m sorry you don’t understand fashion. I’m sorry you can see art right in front of you and not even recognize it. It’s so tragic for you.”

They reached the door, and Marcus bowed, motioning dramatically for Wrench to go before him. He followed, and the sliding door closed behind them, sealing the hackerspace.

“Also, stop watching Hallmark movies.”

———————————————————————————-

“I can’t believe we made it all the way here and you’re still on this.”

Wrench threw his arms up in exasperation. “I’m just saying! I don’t actually watch them,” He argued, waiting as Marcus opened the door to the garage. “I just know what they’re like!”

“How do you know what they’re like if you don’t watch them?” Marcus taunted, clearly enjoying dragging out the argument despite his protest.

Wrench’s mask switched to ‘angry eyes’: two downward-slanted lines. “Because I just fucking know what they’re like! Everyone does! They’re like, a staple of—” he stopped short as he walked through the door, seeing Marcus’s handiwork.

Next to his workbench stood the chalkboard he kept there, giant letters in Marcus’s straight, thin handwriting read: “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” It was curved to arc perfectly over the box that stood in front, lined up with careful precision. The box looked huge, a tall rectangle coming to above Wrench’s middle, and was wrapped in red and green paper, complete with a ribbon running up the sides and forming a bow at the top.

“Whoa,” Wrench breathed, taking tentative steps toward the box. “It’s all wrapped up and everything.”

“...Yes.” Marcus said, as he closed the door behind himself. “That’s typically how these things go. Kind of a staple of the thing.”

“Damn, Marcus,” Wrench said, slowly circling the gift and ignoring Marcus’s jab at him. “This thing is huge.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Shut the fuck up, stop ruining Christmas with your dick,” Wrench said, holding a finger out to silence Marcus while eyeing the present.

“Well?” Marcus urged, impatient. “You gonna open it, or just stare at it?”

Wrench still hesitated a moment. “I’m… just trying to guess what it is. It looks like there’s a fucking toddler in here.”

“Nah, too tall for a toddler. He’s eight, minimum.”

Wrench rubbed his hands together, then attacked his present. Marcus watched, hands clutched in anticipation, as Wrench first untied the ribbon and let it fall to the floor, then ripped away the first bit of paper, halfway down the side.

“Oh… my god,” More paper ripping. “It’s not.”

“It is!” Marcus replied gleefully.

“Fuck. Fuck! Holy fuck!” Wrench started bouncing in place, unable to contain his joy.

“Yep!” Marcus replied, smiling, matching Wrench’s energy.

“Fucking… Marcus!” Wrench screamed, reaching a higher pitch than he realized he was capable of making, the filter of his mask helping it reach ear-splitting levels. Through his excitement he ripped the rest of the paper away until it stood fully revealed: a huge box emblazoned with Haum’s logo. He pulled the front panel away, revealing his gift: a brand new security bot. “I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Merry Christmas, Wrench!” Marcus said, clapping his hand down on Wrench’s shoulder. “Your boy’s been reincarnated!”

“Marcus, how in the hell!” Wrench was still barely able to control himself, and not really making the attempt, looking back and forth between Marcus and the robot. “It was like, absurdly difficult to get one of these the first time!”

“I have my ways! Don’t worry about it, just get to work on ‘im. He’s severely in need of a paint job.”

“Oh fuck, Marcus, thank you so much!” Wrench yelled, throwing his arms around Marcus. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Marcus laughed and returned Wrench’s hug. “You’re welcome, man.”

Wrench pulled back some to meet Marcus’s eyes with his own exclamation points. “You’re the best, you’re literally the best!”

Marcus laughed again. “Hey, I try.”

“You! You literally fucking..!” Wrench started, launching away from Marcus and toward the robot. “This is really the best thing, Marcus, I mean it.”

“Well, I mean, I know getting rid of Wrench Jr. was really fucked up, I mean even if it was the best thing to do at the time…” Marcus settled against the nearby table, watching Wrench excitedly pull the bot from the box, flitting around it like a hummingbird. “So, here he is! Look, your son came home for Christmas!”

They both laughed a moment, before Marcus said, “Hey, I got him, both times, doesn’t that make me like, his other dad?”

Wrench gasped. “Oh my God, it does.” He laughed, then spread his arms wide. “Hey, look at me, I’m spending time with family on Christmas, like a real person!”

They both laughed, bringing the initial excitement in the room down, replacing it with a calmer, comfortable moment of silence. Wrench stopped bouncing around the security bot, and came to stand in front of Marcus.

“I’m serious, M, this is really great. I wish I had something cool and amazing for you that illustrated that I understand you better than anyone else, but…”

Marcus laughed. “Hey, there’s always next year, man. And, I mean, you don’t have to get me anything, that wasn’t what I was going for here.”

“I know. Ugh, you’re such a nice person. I hate you.”

“Wow. This family is tearing me apart,” Marcus said, moving as if to walk over to the security bot. “Okay then, I’ll just take my son and leave.”

Wrench positioned himself between the two, putting a hand on Marcus’s chest to stop him. “Just kidding, I love you, do not touch him.”

Marcus held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Could’ve said it with more feeling, but I’ll accept it.”

“Oh! Okay, round two,” Wrench cleared his throat in dramatic fashion. “Marcus Holloway.”

Marcus burst into laughter, just at the way Wrench pronounced his name: deep and low like a love confession in a bad movie. “Don’t, don’t!”

Wrench, cleared his throat again, louder, as if protesting the interruption. “Marcus Holloway,” he began again, “Allow me to confess my admiration of you.”

“Stoooooop!”

“No! You must let me continue!” Wrench said, adopting an indistinguishable accent, lofty like a Victorian drama with the Victorian extracted, the effect only made more funny as it garbled through the filter of Wrench’s mask. “I have admired you from afar for too long! I can no longer bear it!”

Marcus threw his head back in laughter. “Stop, oh my God!”

Marcus’s laughter only urged Wrench to carry on, ready to take the bit as far as it could go. “Marcus Holloway!” his mask showed two pointed, smiling eyes briefly as Wrench couldn’t help but to laugh through his character. They lasted only moments, though, before Wrench tore the mask from his face, dropping dramatically to one knee, and holding the mask over his heart like a hat. “I must confess my undying love for you!”

“I regret—” Marcus began as his laughter began to die down. “I regret everything. Are you even doing a bit anymore? You’re a little too good at this!”

Wrench laughed at the jab, only taking everything Marcus said as encouragement. “My own love laughs in my face! How will I go on?”

“Stop, oh my god, if you go anymore I’ll have to think you’re serious, c’mon!”

Marcus kept laughing, but he felt the air in the room change. It was immediate, but subtle, as their laughter stopped and a strange expression flicked across Wrench’s face; the eyebrows previously knit in a fake severe expression rose in surprise for only a moment, before Wrench was standing back on his feet. He broke eye contact, and moved to put his mask back on, but hesitated, standing almost frozen, looking for an out.

Marcus looked over the other, trying to find meaning in the sudden change. “Wrench?”

“Uhh… yeah. Anyway,” Wrench looked everywhere but at Marcus, already half turned away from him. “What were we doing?”

Marcus began to connect the dots, and a flash of realization passed across his face. “Oh,” He stopped leaning on the table to take a half-step toward Wrench. “Wrench.”

“Oh, yeah, the present,” Wrench recalled, ignoring the knowing tone of Marcus’s voice. “It really is great— It’s a great present, Marcus, thanks.”

Wrench turned away to face the robot and moved to raise his mask to his face, but felt it stopped; he looked down, and Marcus’s hand was there, holding it in place. He looked up into Marcus’s eyes, which fell too softly on him, and he stood waiting for the worst, his anxiety written all over his face.

“Wrench,” Marcus said again, waiting for the other to turn his face away— happening at the sound of his name. “Wrench, man, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” he stopped, fishing for words, and fast, before Wrench could cut in and say with a laugh that what he thought was happening wasn’t happening, that he misunderstood.

“Wrench, this isn’t— I di— ugh, this shouldn’t be so hard,” Marcus stopped a moment to look over his friend, who stood still, silent, like he was waiting for this to end, like he had already conceded defeat.

Marcus needed to respond quickly, needed to let Wrench know that whatever awful scene he was playing out in his mind wouldn’t happen, but at the same time he was at as much of a loss for words as Wrench was.

Marcus sighed. “Fuck it,” he whispered to himself under his breath. “Wrench,” he called, softly this time, like gently calling him to come home to him.

One hand came to rest on Wrench’s shoulder that faced him, that was trying to keep him away,  as everything in Wrench’s body language screamed that he was ready to run, wanting to run, but was tired of running. The hand that rested on Wrench’s mask came up slowly until it met the cheek that was farthest away, and gently urged it to turn toward him. Wrench complied, not resisting the touch, smoothly moving where he urged him like floating in the tide.

Marcus looked into Wrench’s eyes, which was a mistake, as he almost lost his nerve, but something in the shock he saw there pushed him forward; Wrench was surprised, scared, it was clear, but what wasn’t there was protest. The hand slipped from his cheek to his chin, tipping it upwards, towards him, and Marcus dropped his eyes down to Wrench’s mouth, steeling himself to take the leap.

The kiss was slow, uncertain, and it felt to both of them like it barely held onto life, like a dandelion trembling in the wind, knowing that one stiff breeze could whisk it away entirely. Wrench’s heart thrummed in his ears like roaring wind shaking the building, but the rest of him stood stock still, afraid to move and end what he barely knew was happening. His mind screamed to slow down, to enjoy the moment before he lost it, and it took some thought before he even realized he should kiss Marcus back.

The kiss was short, Marcus eventually pulling away. His own face felt hot, and he saw a pink blush running along Wrench’s cheeks, and even a splash of it across his nose. He studied it a moment while they both caught their footing, the sight of Wrench’s uncovered face still being a rarity.

Wrench was hesitant to open his eyes. “If I look up—” He started, “I swear to God, If I look up, and there’s like, mistletoe— or some shit— above me, I’m going to fucking lose it.”

Marcus laughed, relief apparent, as he read the still-persistent uncertainty in Wrench. “Nope. Nothing up there.” He smiled, amused, as Wrench opened his eyes, flitting them briefly to the ceiling as if his word wasn’t good enough. “Just a regular kiss. Sorry to disappoint.”

Wrench sighed like a weight was lifted from him. “Marcus, oh my God,” he breathed, closing his eyes again and covering half his face with his hand. “Oh my God. That’s— I’m— Oh my God.”

Marcus bubbled with laughter, suddenly feeling lighter than he was before. “Yeah, I agree.”

“I’ve been— I’ve been— fucking dreaming of that,” Wrench said, suddenly with a confidence he didn’t have before.

“Yeah?” Marcus said, listening to Wrench as if this were the first time he had heard his deep, unaltered voice, husky now in the fading heat of the moment just before.

“Yeah.”

“Since when?”

“Since I fucking saw you, first of all, and then I got to know you, and fuck, it got so much worse than I fucking thought it would.”

Marcus smiled, and another comment to urge Wrench on played at his lips, but at that moment his phone sounded, breaking through the air like a hammer on ice. Wrench looked almost startled, like he had forgotten that there were other people in the world, and felt their eyes on him. He moved toward the security bot.

“‘S my family,” Marcus mumbled, reading his text. “I should probably leave, if I’m gonna make it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Yeah,” Marcus watched as Wrench looked for something to do. “But, hey, this was—”

“Wait,” Wrench said, suddenly freezing in his tracks.

“What?”

“Wait a fucking second.”

“I am.”

Wrench let out a pained sigh, rested a hand on top of the security bot, then laid his forehead on it. “So you gave me, like, a perfect Christmas gift.”

“I’m not looking to brag, but, yes?”

“Demonstrating that you understand me really well.”

“...Sure?”

Wrench sighed again, full of exasperation. “And you look so stupid handsome in your stupid turtleneck.”

“Thank… you?”

“And we had our first kiss. On Christmas.”

“Yes.”

“Marcus, we’re living a fucking Hallmark movie. I’m a fucking Hallmark movie protagonist,” He ignored Marcus buckled over with laughter in the background and started to pace back and forth. “I’m the fucking workaholic boss or whatever the fuck and you’re my sprightly coworker who showed me the true meaning of Christmas or some shit, and I just stood here and let that happen.”

Marcus reined in his laughter long enough to respond, wiping a real tear from his eye. “I don’t think Hallmark makes movies about hacker anarchists with queer, interracial romance plots.”

Wrench perked up. “That’s the only thing that saves us,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Marcus. “Only thing.”

Marcus laughed again. “Thank God. Now, go work on your son, give him a cool paint job, inappropriate catch phrases, the works,” he headed toward the door as Wrench settled in to work on the robot. “I need to go now, but… later? We’ll talk?”

“Yeah,” Wrench said with a lopsided, content smile, as he replaced his mask. “You know where to find me.”

[mw-moriearty]

Dev Blog?

I typically don’t dig posting about writing projects when they’re still in development/gestation/whatever, because only like 10% of the projects I start actually reach a point where they are ready for publication, and I don’t want to feel like I’m making promises I don’t keep.

But, I want to talk about my journey in experimenting as a writer of interactive fiction, not to talk up the project itself, but just to share what its like as a writer to play with new media and work outside my comfort zone.

I think these days its so important for writers not to be afraid of jumping in to new forms of storytelling outside the classical genres. New technology represents new way of creating art and new audiences for that art to reach. I love video games, and I think that in many ways they are the future of storytelling.

So, I’ve been playing with writing interactive fiction games (games that are mostly or purely interactive stories told through text rather than graphics like 80s choose your own adventure books but less shitty). I did crazy research about what engines would be good for me as someone with relatively little experience in programming and scripting. I found twine, a tool very popular lately in the indie community thanks to the work of excellent artists like Porpentine and Michael Lutz (follow them on twitter, they’re weird and great). Twine is used to make hypertext games, where you click on links to progress through the story. It is crazy simple and user friendly and looks like this:

I started working on my current writing project (which I’m focusing on hobbyist-style while several of my short stories and my novella are wandering the internet like stray cats looking for a publisher to adopt them) in twine. It is a horror game called Happy Place, and was mostly inspired by the very not great film Escape From Tomorrow and how there is so much potential in the whole “evil Disney” satire that the movie was too busy being all edgy and guerrilla to take advantage of.

Then, I stumbled upon Choice of Games and how they actually pay writers to write games for them and I like it when people actually pay me for my work because one day I would love to do nothing but sit in a dark room and write stories and be able to live off of that. So, I submitted some pitches to them, which they expressed interest in but ultimately didn’t pick up because my stories are weird and I don’t think that’s what they’re looking for. But have no fear, because ChoiceScript is open source and I’m still moving forward with completing Happy Place in said language and submitting it to be hosted under CoG’s Hosted Games label. Yay! Besides, I’ve found that, despite having a slightly steeper learning curve and requiring more actual scripting and programming from the writer, ChoiceScript (which looks like this:)

is much more flexible in many ways and I think will be a much better vehicle for telling this particular story.

tldr; I’m making a game despite having no programming experience, so anyone can. And its a great, fresh experience that more authors (not just budding game developers but actual poets and prose writers) should try because you can tell entirely different kinds of stories and interact with your audience in a completely new way than what can be done with just a typewriter or word processor.

[infotainmentplus-blog]

Throwback: When Samsung had terrible design Samsung is a leader in Android smartphone design. The company makes high-end devices that deserve their asking prices. It isn’t afraid to try new innovations, and after many lessons it’s also careful not to alienate fans. The Galaxy S9 phones introduced plenty of new features, but it also took the wants of consumers into account. It retained a headphone jack, moved its fingerprint sensor to a more sensible spot, and offered fast wired and wireless charging — all without a notch. However, the Galaxy S9 is only the latest in a very long line of Galaxy devices. Including the Galaxy S, A, and J lines, more than a 100 Galaxy devices have come out (plus the tablets), many of which didn’t exactly have stellar designs. The company’s phones may be great now, but we don’t have to look back very far to remember when they weren’t. Back before smartphones, Samsung was a largely anonymous South Korean industrial conglomerate, making giant cargo ships, tanks, TVs, washing machines, and just about everything else. It still does all that now, it’s just slightly less anonymous. Samsung Electronics, as part of that conglomerate, was a true original equipment manufacturer (OEM), making inexpensive parts for other companies. From 1993 to 1996, the company changed direction, as then Samsung Group chair Lee Kun-Hee pushed for it to become an innovator. In 1995, he and his board famously destroyed Samsung-produced devices in front of thousands of employees to hammer home his dissatisfaction with device quality. In 1996, Kun-Hee made some fascinating and prescient statements about design in the future, declaring “the year of design revolution,” and starting the company on the path to becoming the leader it is today. Samsung made plenty of odd design decisions on the road to success. Some we loved, some were just ahead of their time, and some were downright bad. The first Galaxy Galaxy vs Magic In 2009, Samsung released the Galaxy i7500. It was the company’s first Galaxy phone and its first Android device. It had an OLED touchscreen, ran Android 1.5, had appalling battery life, and a monstrously bad lock and unlock screen mechanism. Truly, bad design is more than about looks. Early Galaxy Note The early Samsung Galaxy Note phones introduced larger screens, something Apple fans (and Steve Jobs) scoffed at. It was a win for Samsung, but the designs lacked a premium look and feel. The phones’ shiny plastic backing was widely criticized at the time. It looked and felt cheap, and it was slippery. The first Note got a bit of a pass for being a brand new product, but the Note 2 and the S2 were more strongly criticized for continuing the trend, with a new just-as-slippery design and a display that even attracted more fingerprints in some styles. As CNET put it: “Samsung unabashedly carries on its plastic tradition in the face of rivals that have much more premium-looking, and possibly heartier, build materials. Though attractive, the Note 2 wins no awards for construction, and the highly reflective surfaces sometimes bounce back light in distracting ways.” Samsung was constantly compared to Apple. Even when the phones’ specs met or exceeded expectations, many felt the Korean company was always a step behind in design. These were the bad old days of iPhone versus Android, before Android was as polished as it is now and Apple started making increasingly strange design decisions. Samsung Galaxy Note 3 The Samsung Galaxy Note 3 came with a faux-leather back, complete with fake stitches. It was Samsung’s response to criticism of the slippery, glossy plastic of previous phones and the decision proved divisive. The soft feel was pleasant enough, and it reminded people of a leather-bound portfolio. Some people still remember the phones fondly. As Android Authority‘s own Bogdan Petrovan put it, “those phones felt better in hand than they looked. I actually enjoyed it in-hand. In comparison with the iPhones, though, they looked shitty.” The Note 3 just wasn’t premium enough. The white version was particularly gaudy, aged poorly, and added little class to the polycarbonate backing. That became even more clear when the HTC One (or M7) launched with a beautiful all-metal body that showed forward-thinking, timeless design. The OnePlus One also entered the market around this time, showing a plastic body and case that looked and felt much more premium than anything Samsung offered. Samsung Galaxy Oddities In between flagship releases, Samsung used to release devices with interesting (often gimmicky) concepts. There was the Samsung Galaxy Camera, a novel Android-based attempt to combine a fully featured camera and smartphone. It sadly only produced average photos, had dreadful battery life, and was very weird to use as a phone, especially because you couldn’t make calls. A friend of mine bought this thinking it was a two-in-one. It ended up being more half of one and almost zero of the other. The Samsung Round came out just ahead of the LG G Flex. It was curved from side to side, instead of the top-to-bottom curve of the G Flex. The LG style won out as a better device. Though Samsung swore the phone was more comfortable to keep in your pocket, it didn’t really improve the phone experience. At the time, we recommended avoiding it. On the bright side, the device showed off Samsung’s technology and manufacturing skill. At MWC 2012 Samsung showed off the Samsung Galaxy Beam, an Android phone with an integrated projector. It had pretty limited specs, but offered an nHD pico projector with a resolution of 640 x 360 and a 15-lumen brightness. On paper, it was an interesting concept that kind of made sense. In practice, it was poor quality, dull, and failed to really catch on, despite plenty of interest. The concept sounded good, but brightness and battery life were big issues. Samsung Galaxy S5 While Samsung played with unusual concepts, its flagship line stalled. The Galaxy S5 held onto the full-plastic body just a little too long. The iPhone 6 was out by now. The S5 reviewed well for its display and powerful internals, but where previous designs had been divisive, most now agreed: this was an ugly phone. Its dimpled plastic back looked more like a Band Aid, and the metal-effect band didn’t add any appeal. It was a good flagship phone that looked cheap. The S5 design was so bad that it forced Samsung to change everything The design was hammered. It was so bad Samsung’s designers came out and explained their choices. Three senior product designers spoke to Engadget about it: “If we used metal, we felt the designs felt heavy and cold. But with plastic, the texture is warmer. We believe users will find the device both warmer and friendlier. This material was also the best at visually expressing volume, better at symbolizing our design concepts” Despite all the apparent warmth and friendliness, the phone tanked and forced a big change at Samsung. Though previously hailed as Samsung’s Jony Ive, Samsung designer Chang Dong-hoon offered to resign. He was kept on, but shuffled away to lead design strategy. That shift was at least one catalyst for the Samsung smartphones we know and enjoy today. The following flagship releases, the Galaxy S6 and S6 Edge, represented a big shift in design. The phones boasted a classy metal and glass design, and debuted the Edge display, which now defines both the Galaxy S and Note designs. The cost of that design was plain. It had no waterproofing, no replaceable battery, and no expandable storage, which wasn’t necessarily what enthusiasts wanted. Nevertheless, the S6 was a big moment — it raised the bar for Samsung’s design looks. The new Samsung From the S6 on, Samsung’s design prospered. Its biggest recent design problem was arguably the too-high placement of the fingerprint sensor on the S8. Samsung told the media the battery prevented it from being put below the camera, but whatever issue it had, the S9 fixed that mistake. Many of Samsung’s bold design choices have worked since those early, mediocre days. Its large screens, the adoption of the now widely copied glass-aluminium-glass construction, and its Edge design have defined the company’s best phones. Samsung arguably forced Apple to adopt larger screens in the iPhone, and pressured the company to make a risky decision with the iPhone X. Few inside Apple would seriously claim the iPhone X notch was a wonderful design. The choice of function over form was a rare stumble for Apple, and now Samsung’s perfectly positioned to one-up it properly with the next-generation of Galaxy S or Note devices. This climb hasn’t been cheap for Samsung. Apple’s Industrial Design group is a tight-knit team of 20 that’s worked together for decades. Samsung Electronics had more than 1,600 designers across 34 design centers at last count. Of course, the company produces a far greater range of products than just smartphone, but pound-for-pound, it’s been a much tougher road for Samsung. Most would agree it’s finally paid off. , via Android Authority http://bit.ly/2JKVQLz

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Netflix wants to chop down your family tree

Netflix has unveiled the details of its new anti-password-sharing policy, detailing a suite of complex gymnastics that customers will be expected to undergo if their living arrangements trigger Netflix’s automated enforcement mechanisms:

https://thestreamable.com/news/confirmed-netflix-unveils-first-details-of-new-anti-password-sharing-measures

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

Netflix says that its new policy allows members of the same “household” to share an account. This policy comes with an assumption: that there is a commonly understood, universal meaning of “household,” and that software can determine who is and is not a member of your household.

This is a very old corporate delusion in the world of technology. In the early 2000s, I spent years trying to bring some balance to an effort at DVB, whose digital television standards are used in most of the world (but not the USA) when they rolled out CPCM, a DRM system that was supposed to limit video-sharing to a single household.

Their term of art for this was the “authorized domain”: a software-defined family unit whose borders were privately negotiated by corporate executives from media companies, broadcasters, tech and consumer electronics companies in closed-door sessions all around the world, with no public minutes or proceedings.

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-iii-8561f6d5a4dc

These guys (they were nearly all guys) were proud of how much “flexibility” they’d built into their definition of “household.” For example, if you owned a houseboat, or a luxury car with seatback displays, or a summer villa in another country, the Authorized Domain would be able to figure out how to get the video onto all those screens.

But what about other kinds of families? I suggested that one of our test cases should be a family based in Manila: where the dad travels to remote provinces to do agricultural labor; the daughter is a nanny in California; and the son is doing construction work in the UAE. This suggestion was roundly rejected as an “edge case.”

Of course, this isn’t an edge case. There are orders of magnitude more people whose family looks like this than there are people whose family owns a villa in another country. Owning a houseboat or a luxury car makes you an outlier. Having an itinerant agricultural breadwinner in your family does not.

But everyone who is in the room when a cartel draws up a standard definition of what constitutes a household is almost certainly drawn from a pool that is more likely to have a summer villa than a child doing domestic work or construction labor half a world away. These weirdos, so dissimilar from the global majority, get to define the boxes that computers will shove the rest of the world into. If your family doesn’t look like their family, that’s tough: “Computer says no.”

One day at a CPCM meeting, we got to talking about the problem of “content laundering” and how the way to prevent it would be to put limits on how often someone could leave a household and join another one. No one, they argued, would ever have to change households every week.

I put my hand up and said, “What about a child whose divorced parents share custody of her? She’s absolutely going to change households every week.” They thought about it for a moment, then the rep from a giant IT company that had recently been convicted of criminal antitrust violations said, “Oh, we can solve that: we’ll give her a toll-free number to call when she gets locked out of her account.”

That was the solution they went with. If you are a child coping with the dissolution of your parents’ marriage, you will have the obligation to call up a media company every month — or more often — and explain that Mummy and Daddy don’t love each other any more, but can I please have my TV back?

I never forgot that day. I even wrote a science fiction story about it called (what else?) “Authorized Domain”:

https://craphound.com/news/2011/10/31/authorised-domain/

I think everyone understood that this was an absurd “solution,” but they had already decided that they were going to complete the seemingly straightforward business of defining a category like “household” using software, and once that train left the station, nothing was going to stop it.

This is a recurring form of techno-hubris: the idea that baseline concepts like “family” have crisp definitions and that any exceptions are outliers that would never swallow the rule. It’s such a common misstep that there’s a whole enre* called “Falsehoods Programmers Believe About ______”:

https://github.com/kdeldycke/awesome-falsehood

In that list: names, time, currency, birthdays, timezones, email addresses, national borders, nations, biometrics, gender, language, alphabets, phone numbers, addresses, systems of measurement, and, of course, families. These categories are touchstones in our everyday life, and we think we know what they mean — but then we try to define them, and the list of exceptions spirals out into a hairy, fractal infinity.

Historically, these fuzzy categorical edges didn’t matter so much, because they were usually interpreted by humans using common sense. My grandfather was born “Avrom Doctorovitch” (or at least, that’s one way to transliterate his name, which was spelled in a different alphabet, but which was also transliterating his first name from yet another alphabet). When he came to Canada as a refugee, his surname was anglicized to “Doctorow.” Other cousins are “Doctorov,” “Doctoroff,” and “Doktorovitch.”

Naturally, his first name could have been “Abraham” or “Abe,” but his first employer (a fellow Eastern European emigre) decided that was too ethnic and in sincere effort to help him fit in, he called my grandfather “Bill.” When my grandfather attained citizenship, his papers read “Abraham William Doctorow.” He went by “Abe,” “Billy,” “Bill,” “William,” “Abraham” and “Avrom.”

Practically, it didn’t matter that variations on all of these appeared on various forms of ID, contracts, and paperwork. His reparations check from the German government had a different variation from the name on the papers he used to open his bank account, but the bank still let him deposit it.

All of my relatives from his generation have more than one name. Another grandfather of mine was born “Aleksander,” and called “Sasha” by friends, but had his name changed to “Seymour” when he got to Canada. His ID was also a mismatched grab-bag of variations on that theme.

None of this mattered to him, either. Airlines would sell him tickets and border guards would stamp his passport and rental agencies would let him drive away in cars despite the minor variations on all his ID.

But after 9/11, all that changed, for everyone who had blithely trundled along with semi-matching names across their official papers and database entries. Suddenly, it was “computer says no” everywhere you turned, unless everything matched perfectly. There was a global rush for legal name-changes after 9/11 — not because people changed their names, but because people needed to perform the bureaucratic ritual necessary to have the name they’d used all along be recognized in these new, brittle, ambiguity-incinerating machines.

For important categories, ambiguity is a feature, not a bug. The fact that you can write anything on an envelope (including a direction to deliver the letter to the granny flat over the garage, not the front door) means that we don’t have to define “address” — we can leave it usefully hairy around the edges.

Once the database schema is formalized, then “address” gets defined too — the number of lines it can have, the number of characters each line can have, the kinds of characters and even words (woe betide anyone who lives in Scunthorpe).

If you have a “real” address, a “real” name, a “real” date of birth, all of this might seem distant to you. These “edge” cases — seasonal agricultural workers, refugees with randomly assigned “English” names — are very far from your experience.

That’s true — for now (but not forever). The “Shitty Technology Adoption Curve” describes the process by which abusive technologies work their way up the privilege gradient. Every bad technological idea is first rolled out on poor people, refugees, prisoners, kids, mental patients and other people who can’t push back.

Their bodies are used to sand the rough edges and sharp corners off the technology, to normalize it so that it can climb up through the social ranks, imposed on people with more and more power and influence. 20 years ago, if you ate your dinner under an always-on #CCTV, it was because you were in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you bought a premium home surveillance system from Google, Amazon or Apple.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

The Netflix anti-sharing tools are designed for rich people. If you travel for business and stay in the kind of hotel where the TV has its own Netflix client that you can plug your username and password into, Netflix will give you a seven-day temporary code to use.

But for the most hardcore road-warriors, Netflix has thin gruel. Unless you connect to your home wifi network every 31 days and stream a show, Netflix will lock out your devices. Once blocked, you have to “contact Netflix” (laughs in Big Tech customer service).

Why is Netflix putting the screws to its customers? It’s part of the enshittification cycle, where platform companies first allocate surpluses to their customers, luring them in and using them as bait for business customers. Once they turn up, the companies reallocate surpluses to businesses, lavishing them with low commissions and lots of revenue opportunities. And once they’re locked in, the company starts to claw back the surpluses for itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Remember when Netflix was in the business of mailing red envelopes full of DVDs around the country? That was allocating surpluses to users. The movie companies hated this, viewed it as theft — a proposition that was at least as valid as Netflix’s complaints about password sharing, but every pirate wants to be an admiral, and when Netflix did it to the studios, that was “progress,” but when you do it to Netflix, that’s theft.

Then, once Netflix had users locked in and migrated to the web (and later, apps), it shifted surpluses to studios, paying fat licensing fees to stream their movies and connect them to a huge audience.

Finally, once the studios were locked in, Netflix started to harvest the surplus for its shareholders: raising prices, lowering streaming rates, knocking off other studios’ best performing shows with in-house clones, etc. Users’ surpluses are also on the menu: the password “sharing” that let you define a household according to your family’s own idiosyncratic contours is unilaterally abolished in a quest to punish feckless Gen Z kids for buying avocado toast instead of their own Netflix subscriptions.

Netflix was able to ignore the studios’ outraged howls when it built a business by nonconsenually distributing their products in red envelopes. But now that Netflix has come for your family, don’t even think about giving Netfix some of what it gave to the MPAA.

As a technical matter, it’s not really that hard to modify Netflix’s app so that every stream you pull seems to come from your house, no matter where you are. But doing so would require reverse-engineering Netflix’s app, and that would violate Section 1201 of the DMCA, the CFAA, and eleventy-seven other horrible laws. Netflix’s lawyers would nuke you until the rubble bounced.

When Netflix was getting started, it could freely interoperate with the DVDs that the studios had put on the market. It could repurpose those DVDs in ways that the studios strenuously objected to. In other words, Netfix used adversarial interoperability (AKA Competitive Compatibility or ComCom) to launch its business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Today, Netflix is on the vanguard of the war to abolish adversarial interop. They helped lead the charge to pervert W3C web-standards, creating a DRM video standard called EME that made it a crime to build a full-featured browser without getting permission from media companies and restricting its functionality to their specifications:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

When they used adversarial interoperability to build a multi-billion-dollar global company using the movie studios’ products in ways the studios hated, that was progress. When you define “family” in ways that makes Netflix less money, that’s felony contempt of business model.

[Image ID: A Victorian family tree template populated by tintypes of old-timey people. In the foreground stands a menacing, chainsaw-wielding figure, his face obscured by a hoodie. The blade of the chainsaw is poised to chop down the family tree. A Netflix 'N' logo has been superimposed over the man's face.]

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kickstarting “The Bezzle” audiobook, sequel to Red Team Blues

I'm heading to Berlin! On January 29, I'll be delivering Transmediale's Marshall McLuhan Lecture, and on January 30, I'll be at Otherland Books (tickets are limited! They'll have exclusive early access to the English edition of The Bezzle and the German edition of Red Team Blues!).

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to last year's Red Team Blues, featuring Marty Hench, a hard-charging, two-fisted forensic accountant who spent 40 years in Silicon Valley, busting every finance scam hatched by tech bros' feverish imaginations:

http://thebezzle.org

Marty Hench is a great character to write. His career in high-tech scambusting starts in the early 1980s with the first PCs and stretches all the way to the cryptocurrency era, the most target-rich environment for scamhunting tech has ever seen. Hench is the Zelig of tech scams, and I'm having so much fun using him to probe the seamy underbelly of the tech economy.

Enter The Bezzle, which will be published by Tor Books and Head of Zeus on Feb 20: this adventure finds Marty in the company of Scott Warms, one of the many bright technologists whose great startup was bought and destroyed by Yahoo! (yes, they really used that asinine exclamation mark). Scott is shackled to the Punctuation Factory by golden handcuffs, and he's determined to get fired without cause, so he can collect his shares and move onto the next thing.

That's how Scott and Marty find themselves on Catalina island, the redoubt of the Wrigley family, where bison roam the hills, yachts bob in the habor and fast food is banned. Scott invites Marty on a series of luxury vacations on Catalina, which end abruptly when they discover – and implode – a hamburger-related Ponzi scheme run by a real-estate millionaire who is destroying the personal finances of the Island's working-class townies out of sheer sadism.

Scott's victory is bittersweet: sure, he blew up the Ponzi scheme, but he's also made powerful enemies – the kinds of enemies who can pull strings with the notoriously corrupt LA County Sheriff's Deputies who are the only law on Catalina, and after taking a pair of felony plea deals, Scott gets the message and never visits Catalina Island again.

That could have been the end of it, but California's three-strikes law – since rescinded – means that when Scott picks up one more felony conviction for some drugs discovered during a traffic stop, he's facing life in prison.

That's where The Bezzle really gets into gear.

At its core, The Bezzle is a novel about the "shitty technology adoption curve": the idea that our worst technological schemes are sanded smooth on the bodies of prisoners, mental patients, kids and refugees before they work their way up the privilege gradient and are inflicted on all of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

America's prisons are vicious, brutal places, and technology has only made them worse. When Scott's prison swaps out in-person visits, the prison library, and phone calls for a "free" tablet that offers all these services as janky apps that cost ten times more than they would on the outside, the cruelty finds a business model.

Working inside and outside the prison Marty Hench and Scott Warms figure out the full nature of the scam that the captive audience of prisoners are involuntary beta-testers for, and they discover a sprawling web of real-estate fraud, tech scams, and offshore finance that is extracting fortunes from the hides of America's prisoners and their families. The criminals who run that kind of enterprise aren't shy about fighting for what they've got, and they're more than happy to cut some of LA County's notorious deputy gangs in for a cut in exchange for providing some kinetic support for the project.

The Bezzle is exactly the kind of book I was hoping I'd get to write when I kicked off the Hench series – one that decodes the scam economy, from music royalties to prison videoconferencing, real estate investment trusts to Big Four accounting firm bogus audits. It's both a fast-moving, two-fisted crime novel and a masterclass on how the rich and powerful get away with both literal and figurative murder.

It's getting a big push from both my publishers and I'll be touring western Canada and the US with it. The early reviews are spectacular. But despite all of this, I had to make my own audiobook for it, which I'm pre-selling on Kickstarter:

http://thebezzle.org

Why? Because Audible – Amazon's monopoly gatekeeper to the audiobook world, with more than 90% of the market – refuses to carry my work.

Audible uses Digital Rights Management to lock every audiobook they sell to their platform. Legally, only an Audible-authorized app can decrypt and play the audiobooks they sell you. Distributing a tool that removes Audible DRM is a felony under Section 1201 of the 1998 DMCA.

That means that if you break up with Audible – delete your Audible apps – you will lose your entire audiobook library. And the fact that you're Audible's hostage makes the writers you love into their hostages, too. Writers understand that if they leave the Audible platform, their audience will have to choose between following them, or losing all their audiobooks.

That's how Audible gets away with abusing its performers and writers, up to and including the $100m Audiblegate wage-theft scandal:

https://www.audiblegate.com/

Audible can steal $100m from its writers…and the writers still continue to sell on the platform, because leaving will cost them their audience.

This is canonical enshittification: lock in users, then screw suppliers. Lots of companies abuse DRM to do this, but none can hold a candle to Amazon, who understand that the DMCA is a copyright law that protects corporations at the expense of creators.

Under DMCA 1201 commercial distribution of a "circumvention device" carries a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that if I write a book, pay to have it recorded, and then sell it to you through Audible, I am criminally prohibited from giving you the tool to take it from Audible to another platform. Even though I hold the copyright to that work, I would face a harsher sentence than you would if you simply pirated the audiobook from some darknet site. Not only that: if you shoplifted the audiobook in CD form, you'd get a lighter sentence than I, the copyright holder, would receive for giving you a tool to unlock it from Amazon's platform! Hell, if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CD, you'd get off lighter than I would. This is a scam straight out of a Marty Hench novel.

This is batshit. I won't allow it. My books are licensed on the condition that they must not be sold with DRM. Which means that Audible won't sell my books, which means that my publishers are thoroughly disinterested in paying thousands of dollars to produce audiobooks of my titles. A book that isn't sold in the one store than accounts for 90% of all sales is unlikely to do well.

That's where you come in. Since 2020, I've used Kickstarter to pre-sell five of my audiobooks (I wrote nine books during lockdown!). All told, I've raised over $750,000 (gross! but still!) on these crowdfunders. More than 20,000 backers have pitched in! The last two of these books – The Internet Con and The Lost Cause – were national bestsellers.

This isn't just a way for me to pay off a lot of bills and put away something for retirement – it's proof that readers care about supporting writers and don't want to be locked in by a giant monopolist that depends on its drivers pissing in bottles to make quota.

It's a powerful message about the desire for something better than Amazon. It's part of the current that is driving the FTC to haul Amazon into court for being a monopolist, and also part of the inspiration for other authors to try treating Amazon as damage and routing around it, with spectacular results:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dragonsteel/surprise-four-secret-novels-by-brandon-sanderson

And I'm doing it again. Last December, I went into Skyboat Media's studios where Gabrielle De Cuir directed @wilwheaton, who reprised his role as Marty Hench for the audiobook of The Bezzle. It came out amazing:

https://archive.org/details/bezzle-sample

Now I'm pre-selling this audiobook, as well as the ebook and hardcover for The Bezzle. I'm also offering bundles with the ebook and audiobook for Red Team Blues (naturally these are all DRM-free). You can get your books signed and personalized and shipped anywhere in the world, courtesy of Book Soup, and I've partnered with Libro.fm to deliver DRM-free audiobooks with an app for people who don't want to mess around with sideloading.

I've also got some spendy options for high rollers. There's three chances to name a character in the next Hench novel (Picks and Shovels, Feb 2025). There's also five chances to commission a Hench short story about your favorite tech scam, and get credited when the story is published.

The Kickstarter runs for the next three weeks, which should give me time to get the hardcopy books signed and shipped to arrive around the on-sale date. What's more, I've finally worked out all the post-Brexit kinks with shipping my UK publisher's books to EU backers. I'm working with Otherland Books to fulfill those EU orders, and it looks like I'm going to be able to sign a giant stack of those when I'm in Berlin later this month to give the annual Marshall McLuhan lecture at the Canadian embassy:

https://transmediale.de/en/2024/event/mcluhan-2024

Red Team Blues and its sequels are some of the most fun – and informative – work I've done in my quarter-century career. I love how they blend technical explanations of the scam economy with high-intensity technothrillers. That's the the same mix as my bestselling YA series Little Brother series – but these are firmly adult novels.

The Bezzle came out great. I hope you'll give it a try – and that you'll come out to see me in late February when I hit the road with the book! Here's that Kickstarter link again:

http://thebezzle.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/10/the-bezzle/#marty-hench

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Prison-tech is a scam - and a harbinger of your future

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Here's how the shitty technology adoption curve works: when you want to roll out a new, abusive technology, look for a group of vulnerable people whose complaints are roundly ignored and subject them to your bad idea. Sand the rough edges off on their bodies and lives. Normalize the technological abuse you seek to inflict.

Next: work your way up the privilege gradient. Maybe you start with prisoners, then work your way up to asylum seekers, parolees and mental patients. Then try it on kids and gig workers. Now, college students and blue collar workers. Climb that curve, bit by bit, until you've reached its apex and everyone is living with your shitty technology:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Prisoners, asylum seekers, drug addicts and other marginalized people are the involuntary early adopters of every form of disciplinary technology. They are the leading indicators of the ways that technology will be ruining your life in the future. They are the harbingers of all our technological doom.

Which brings me to Minnesota.

Minnesota is one of the first states make prison phone-calls free. This is a big deal, because prison phone-calls are a big business. Prisoners are literally a captive audience, and the telecommunications sector is populated by sociopaths, bred and trained to spot and exploit abusive monopoly opportunities. As states across America locked up more and more people for longer and longer terms, the cost of operating prisons skyrocketed, even as states slashed taxes on the rich and turned a blind eye to tax evasion.

This presented telco predators with an unbeatable opportunity: they approached state prison operators and offered them a bargain: "Let us take over the telephone service to your carceral facility and we will levy eye-watering per-minute charges on the most desperate people in the world. Their families – struggling with one breadwinner behind bars – will find the money to pay this ransom, and we'll split the profits with you, the cash-strapped, incarceration-happy state government."

This was the opening salvo, and it turned into a fantastic little money-spinner. Prison telco companies and state prison operators were the public-private partnership from hell. Prison-tech companies openly funneled money to state coffers in the form of kickbacks, even as they secretly bribed prison officials to let them gouge their inmates and inmates' families:

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2019/02/mississippi-corrections-corruption-bribery-private-prison-hustle/

As digital technology got cheaper and prison-tech companies got greedier, the low end of the shitty tech adoption curve got a lot more crowded. Prison-tech companies started handing out "free" cheap Android tablets to prisoners, laying the groundwork for the next phase of the scam. Once prisoners had tablets, prisons could get rid of phones altogether and charge prisoners – and their families – even higher rates to place calls right to the prisoner's cell.

Then, prisons could end in-person visits and replace them with sub-skype, postage-stamp-sized videoconferencing, at rates even higher than the voice-call rates. Combine that with a ban on mailing letters to and from prisoners – replaced with a service that charged even higher rates to scan mail sent to prisoners, and then charged prisoners to download the scans – and prison-tech companies could claim to be at the vanguard of prison safety, ending the smuggling of dope-impregnated letters and other contraband into the prison system.

Prison-tech invented some wild shit, like the "digital stamp," a mainstay of industry giant Jpay, which requires prisoners to pay for "stamps" to send or receive a "page" of email. If you're keeping score, you've realized that this is a system where prisoners and their families have to pay for calls, "in-person" visits, handwritten letters, and email.

It goes on: prisons shuttered their libraries and replaced them with ebook stores that charged 2-4 times the prices you'd pay for books on the outside. Prisoners were sold digital music at 200-300% markups relative to, say, iTunes.

Remember, these are prisoners: locked up for years or decades, decades during which their families scraped by with a breadwinner behind bars. Prisoners can earn money, sure – as much as $0.89/hour, doing forced labor for companies that contract with prisons for their workforce:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2017/04/10/wages/

Of course, there's the odd chance for prisoners to make really big bucks – $2-5/day. All they have to do is "volunteer" to fight raging wildfires:

https://www.hcn.org/articles/climate-desk-wildfire-california-incarcerated-firefighters-face-dangerous-work-low-pay-and-covid19/

So those $3 digital music tracks are being bought by people earning as little as $0.10/hour. Which makes it especially galling when prisons change prison-tech suppliers, whereupon all that digital music is deleted, wiping prisoners' media collection out – forever (literally, for prisoners serving life terms):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/08/captive-audience-how-floridas-prisons-and-drm-made-113m-worth-prisoners-music

Let's recap: America goes on a prison rampage, locking up ever-larger numbers of people for ever-longer sentences. Once inside, prisoners had their access to friends and family rationed, along with access to books, music, education and communities outside. This is very bad for prisoners – strong ties to people outside is closely tied to successful reentry – but it's great for state budgets, and for wardens, thanks to kickbacks:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2021/12/21/family_contact/

Back to Minnesota: when Minnesota became the fourth state in the USA where the state, not prisoners, would pay for prison calls, it seemed like they were finally breaking the vicious cycle in which every dollar ripped off of prisoners' family paid 40 cents to the state treasury:

https://www.kaaltv.com/news/no-cost-phone-calls-for-those-incarcerated-in-minnesota/

But – as Katya Schwenk writes for The Lever – what happened next is "a case study in how prison communication companies and their private equity owners have managed to preserve their symbiotic relationship with state corrections agencies despite reforms — at the major expense of incarcerated people and their families":

https://www.levernews.com/wall-streets-new-prison-scam/

Immediately after the state ended the ransoming of prisoners' phone calls, the private-equity backed prison-tech companies that had dug their mouth-parts into the state's prison jacked up the price of all their other digital services. For example, the price of a digital song in a Minnesota prison just jumped from $1.99 to $2.36 (for prisoners earning as little as $0.25/hour).

As Paul Wright from the Human Rights Defense Center told Schwenk, "The ideal world for the private equity owners of these companies is every prisoner has one of their tablets, and every one of those tablets is hooked up to the bank account of someone outside of prison that they can just drain."

The state's new prison-tech supplier promises to double the amount of kickbacks it pays the state each year, thanks to an aggressive expansion into games, money transfers, and other "services." The perverse incentive isn't hard to spot: the more these prison-tech companies charge, the more kickbacks they pay to the prisons.

The primary prison-tech company for Minnesota's prisons is Viapath (nee Global Tel Link), which pioneered price-gouging on in-prison phone calls. Viapath has spent the past two decades being bought and sold by different private equity firms: Goldman Sachs, Veritas Capital, and now the $46b/year American Securities.

Viapath competes with another private equity-backed prison-tech giant: Aventiv (Securus, Jpay), owned by Platinum Equity. Together, Viapath and Aventiv control 90% of the prison-tech market. These companies have a rap-sheet as long as your arm: bribing wardens, stealing from prisoners and their families, and recording prisoner-attorney calls. But these are the kinds of crimes the state punishes with fines and settlements – not by terminating its contracts with these predators.

These companies continue to flout the law. Minnesota's new free-calls system bans prison-tech companies from paying kickbacks to prisons and prison-officials for telcoms services, so the prison-tech companies have rebranded ebooks, music, and money-transfers as non-communications products, and the kickbacks are bigger than ever.

This is the bottom end of the shitty technology adoption curve. Long before Ubisoft started deleting games that you'd bought a "perpetual license" for, prisoners were having their media ganked by an uncaring corporation that knew it was untouchable:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU

Revoking your media, charging by the byte for messaging, confiscating things in the name of security and then selling them back to you – these are all tactics that were developed in the prison system, refined, normalized, and then worked up the privilege gradient. Prisoners are living in your technology future. It's just not evenly distributed – yet.

As it happens, prison-tech is at the heart of my next novel, The Bezzle, which comes out on Feb 20. This is a followup to last year's bestselling Red Team Blues, which introduced the world to Marty Hench, a two-fisted, hard-bitten, high-tech forensic accountant who's spent 40 years busting Silicon Valley finance scams:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

In The Bezzle, we travel with Marty back to the mid 2000s (Hench is a kind of tech-scam Zelig and every book is a standalone tale of high-tech ripoffs from a different time and place). Marty's trying to help his old pal Scott Warms, a once-high-flying founder who's fallen prey to California's three-strikes law and is now facing decades in a state pen. As bad as things are, they get worse when the prison starts handing out "free" tablet and closing down the visitation room, the library, and the payphones.

This is an entry to the thing I love most about the Hench novels: the opportunity to turn all this dry, financial skullduggery into high-intensity, high-stakes technothriller plot. For me, Marty Hench is a tool for flensing the scam economy of all its layers of respectability bullshit and exposing the rot at the core.

It's not a coincidence that I've got a book coming out in a week that's about something that's in the news right now. I didn't "predict" this current turn – I observed it. The world comes at you fast and technology news flutters past before you can register it. Luckily, I have a method for capturing this stuff as it happens:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Writing about tech issues that are long-simmering but still in the periphery is a technique I call "predicting the present." It's the technique I used when I wrote Little Brother, about out-of-control state surveillance of the internet. When Snowden revealed the extent of NSA spying in 2013, people acted as though I'd "predicted" the Snowden revelations:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-writing-radicalized-young-hackers-now-he-wants-to-redeem-them/

But Little Brother and Snowden's own heroic decision have a common origin: the brave whistleblower Mark Klein, who walked into EFF's offices in 2006 and revealed that he'd been ordered by his boss at AT&T to install a beam-splitter into the main fiber trunk so that the NSA could illegally wiretap the entire internet:

https://www.eff.org/document/public-unredacted-klein-declaration

Mark Klein inspired me to write Little Brother – but despite national press attention, the Klein revelations didn't put a stop to NSA spying. The NSA was still conducting its lawless surveillance campaign in 2013, when Snowden, disgusted with NSA leadership for lying to Congress under oath, decided to blow the whistle again:

https://apnews.com/article/business-33a88feb083ea35515de3c73e3d854ad

The assumption that let the NSA get away with mass surveillance was that it would only be weaponized against the people at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve: brown people, mostly in other countries. The Snowden revelations made it clear that these were just the beginning, and sure enough, more than a decade later, we have data-brokers sucking up billions in cop kickbacks to enable warrantless surveillance, while virtually following people to abortion clinics, churches, and protests. Mass surveillance is chugging its way up the shitty tech adoption curve with no sign of stopping.

Like Little Brother, The Bezzle is intended as a kind of virtual flythrough of what life is like further down on that curve – a way for readers who have too much agency to be in the crosshairs of a company like Viapath or Avently right now to wake up before that kind of technology comes for them, and to inspire them to take up the cause of the people further down the curve who are mired in it.

The Bezzle is an intense book, but it's also a very fun story – just like Little Brother. It's a book that lays bare the internal technical workings of so many scams, from multi-level marketing to real-estate investment trusts, from music royalty theft to prison-tech, in the course of an ice-cold revenge plot that keeps twisting to the very last page.

It'll drop in six days. I hope you'll check it out:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Someday, we’ll all take comfort in the internet’s “dark corners”

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me on SUNDAY (Mar 24) with LAURA POITRAS in NYC, then Anaheim, and beyond!

Platforms decay. Tech bosses, unconstrained by competition; regulation; ad blockers and other adversarial interoperability; and their own workers, will inevitably hollow out their platforms, using ultraflexible digital technology to siphon value away from end users and business customers, leaving behind the bare minimum of value to keep all those users locked in:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/23/evacuate-the-platforms/#let-the-platforms-burn

Enshittification is the inevitable result of high switching costs. Tech bosses are keenly attuned to opportunities to lock in their customers and users, because the harder is to leave a platform, the worse the platform can treat you – the more value it can rob you of – without risking your departure.

But platform users are a heterogeneous, lumpy mass. Different groups of users have different switching costs. An adult Facebook user of long tenure has more reasons to stay than a younger user: they have more complex social lives, with nonoverlapping social circles from high school, college, various jobs, affinity groups, and family. They are more likely to have a chronic illness, or to be caring for someone with chronic illness, and to be a member of a social media support group they value highly. They are more likely to be connected to practical communities, like little league carpool rotas.

That's the terrible irony of platform decay: the more value you get from a platform, the more cost that platform can extract, a cost denominated in your wellbeing, enjoyment and dignity.

(At this point, someone will pipe up and say, "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product." It's nonsense. Dignity, respect and fairness aren't frequent flier program perks that tech companies dribble out to their best customers. Companies will happily treat their paying customers as "products" if they think those customers can't avoid other forms of rent-extraction, such as "attention rents")

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

Now, consider the converse proposition: for younger users, platforms deliver less value. Younger users have less complex social lives on average relative to their parents and grandparents, which means that platforms have fewer ways to sink their hooks into those young users. Further: young users tend to want things that the platforms don't want them to have, right from the first day they sign up. In particular, young users often want to conduct their socializing out of eyesight and earshot of adults, especially parents, teachers, and other authority figures. This means that a typical younger user has both more reasons to leave a platform as well as fewer reasons to stay there.

Younger people have an additional reason to bail on platforms early and often: if your online and offline social circles strongly overlap – if you see the same people at school as you do in your feed, it's much easier to reassemble your (smaller, less complex) social circle on a new platform.

And so: on average, young people like platforms less, hate them more, and have both less to lose and more to gain by leaving one platform for another. Sure, some young people are also burning with youth's neophilia. But even without that neophilia, young people are among the first to go when tech bosses start to ratchet up the enshittification.

Beyond young people, there are others who tend to jump ship early, like sex-workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/21/early-adopters/#sex-tech

Sex-workers' technology changes are only incidentally the result of some novelty-seeking impulse. The real reason to change platforms if you're a sex-worker is that the platforms are either absolutely hostile to sex-workers, or profoundly indifferent to the suffering their policy changes rain down upon them.

The same is broadly true of other disfavored groups, including those with out-of-mainstream political ideologies. Some of these groups hold progressive views, others are out-and-out Nazis, but all of them chafe at the platforms' policies at the best of times, and are far more ready to jump ship when the platforms tighten the noose on all their users.

This is where "dark corners" come in. The worst people on the internet have relocated to its so-called dark corners – privately hosted servers, groupchats, message-boards, etc. Some of these are notorious: Kiwi Farms, 4chan, 8kun, sprawling Telegram groupchats. Others only breach when they are implicated in waves of unthinkably cruel and grotesque crimes:

https://www.wired.com/story/764-com-child-predator-network/

The answer to crimes committed in the internet's dark corners is the same as for crimes committed anywhere: catch the criminals, prosecute the crimes. But a distressing number of well-meaning people observe the nexus between dark corners and the crimes that fester there, and conclude that the problem is with the dark corners, themselves.

These people observe that social media platforms like Facebook, and intermediaries like Cloudflare, DNS providers, and domain registrars constitute a "nexus of control" – chokepoints that trap the online lives of billions of people – and conclude that these gigantic corporations can and should be made "responsible" for their users:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

From there, it's a short leap to conclude that anyone who isn't in a position to be controlled by these too big to jail, too big to fail, relentlessly enshittifying corporations must be pushed into their demesne.

This is a deal with the devil. In the name of preventing small groups of terrible people from gathering in private, beyond the control of the world's insufferable and cruel tech barons, we risk dooming everyone else to being permanently within those unworthy billionaires' thumbs.

This is why people like Mark Zuckerberg are so eager to see an increase in "intermediary liability" rules like Section 230. Zuckerberg's greatest fear isn't having to spend more on moderators or algorithms that suppress controversial subjects:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/03/instagram-users-outraged-by-app-limiting-political-content-ahead-of-elections/

The thing he fears the most is losing control over his users. That's why he bought Instagram: to recapture the young users who were fleeing his mismanaged, enshittified platform in droves:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

A legal mandate for Zuckerberg to police his users is a legal requirement that he surveil and control those users. It's fundamentally incompatible with the new drive in competition circles to force Zuckerberg and his fellow tech barons to offer gateways that make it easier to escape their grasp, by allowing users to depart Facebook and continue to socialize with the users who stay behind:

https://www.eff.org/interoperablefacebook

Remember: the more locked-in a platform user is, the harder that platform will squeeze that user, safe in the knowledge that the cost of leaving is higher than the cost of staying and tolerating the platform's abuse.

This is the problem with "feudal security" – the warlord who lures you into his castle fortress with the promise of protection from external threats is, in reality, operating a prison where no one can protect you from him:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/08/leona-helmsley-was-a-pioneer/#manorialism

Rather than fighting to abolish dark corners because only the worst people on the internet use them today, we should be normalizing dark corners, making it easier for every kind of user to find a cozy nook that is shaded from the baleful glare of Zuck and his fellow, eminently guillotineable tech warlords:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/15/normalize-dark-corners/

Enshittification is relentless. The collapse of the restraints that penalized tech companies who abused their users – competition, regulation, interoperability and their own workers' consciences – has inculcated every tech boss with an incurable enshittification imperative.

Efforts to make the platforms safer for their users can only take us so far. Fundamentally, these vast, centralized systems that vest authority with flawed and mediocre and frail human dictators (who fancy themselves noble, brilliant and infallible) will never be safe for human habitation. Rather than focusing on improving the platforms, we should be evacuating them:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/09/let-the-platforms-burn/

Online communities that control their own moderation policies won't always get it right. But there is a whole host of difficult moderation calls that can never be adequately handled by outsiders overseeing vast, sprawling platforms. Distinguishing friendly banter from harassment requires the context that only an insider can hope to possess.

We all deserve dark corners where we stand a chance of finding well-managed communities that can deliver the value that keeps us stuck to our decaying giant platforms. Eventually, the enshittification will chase every user off these platforms – not just kids or sex-workers or political radicals. When that happens, it sure would be nice if everyone could set up in a dark corner of their own.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/23/evacuate-the-platforms/#let-the-platforms-burn

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Fulton County’s jails are in real trouble: “[Inmates] are sleeping on the floor in plastic trays. Cell doors hang off hinges, footage from one local news report shows, and leaked water pools on the floor in some areas. Last September, one person was found dead and covered in bed bugs.” The funding to buy Talitrix tracking bracelets is part of an emergency cash infusion triggered by outrage (and litigation risk) over these inhumane conditions. But the hundreds of sensors being studded throughout the county’s jails and the expensive tracking cuffs are obviously solving the wrong problems, like “how do we stop prisoners living under these inhumane conditions from erupting in violence, or taking their own lives?” (For avoidance of doubt, the right question to answer is “How do we eliminate these inhumane conditions and focus on rehabilitation?”)

-The Shitty Tech Adoption Curve Has a Business Model

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Bottom line: no one gets rich by improving prison conditions. There is no business model for making prisons humane centers of rehabilitation that help people with real problems address those problems, re-enter society and reconcile with the people they transgressed upon. By contrast, selling expensive prison-tech to sheriff’s departments yields a profit, some of which can be diverted into hiring more salespeople who court procurement officers with a slick pitch about how their gadgets can make their lives easier. In other words, people who merely want to hire more counselors and therapists; improve prison libraries, training and food; and help prisoners after they serve their time will never produce better PowerPoints, expensive junkets, lavish sales dinners, elaborate trade-show booths, and slick brochures than the profiteers.

-The Shitty Tech Adoption Curve Has a Business Model

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The appetite for hurting people with shitty technology boundless. It will never be content to extract from the most easily oppressed among us. If we allow companies to wax fat on public funds to hurt the most powerless, they will build up a war-chest that lets it come after the rest of us. Today’s prisoner-tracking technology is tomorrow’s warehouse worker tracking technology, and will next come for office workers — and then for all of us.

-The Shitty Tech Adoption Curve Has a Business Model

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The shitty technology adoption curve owes its existence to this fact: solving human need produces public goods that we all benefit from, whereas securing private contracts from public agencies produces a surplus for the contractor that can be laundered into securing more contracts. Evil, in other words, has a business-model.

-The Shitty Tech Adoption Curve Has a Business Model

[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Don't spy on a privacy lab" (and other career advice for university provosts)

This is a wild and hopeful story: grad students at Northeastern successfully pushed back against invasive digital surveillance in their workplace, through solidarity, fearlessness, and the bright light of publicity. It’s a tale of hand-to-hand, victorious combat with the “shitty technology adoption curve.”

What’s the “shitty tech adoption curve?” It’s the process by which oppressive technologies are normalized and spread. If you want to do something awful with tech — say, spy on people with a camera 24/7 — you need to start with the people who have the least social capital, the people whose objections are easily silenced or overridden.

That’s why all our worst technologies are first imposed on refugees -> prisoners -> kids -> mental patients -> poor people, etc. Then, these technologies climb the privilege gradient: blue collar workers -> white collar workers -> everyone. Following this pathway lets shitty tech peddlers knock the rough edges off their wares, inuring us all to their shock and offense.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

20 years ago, if you ate dinner under the unblinking eye of a CCTV, it was because you were housed in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you were unwise enough to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars for “home automation” from Google, Apple, Amazon or another “luxury surveillance” vendor.

Northeastern’s Interdisciplinary Science and Engineering Complex (ISEC) is home to the “Cybersecurity and Privacy Institute,” where grad students study the harms of surveillance and the means by which they may be reversed. If there’s one group of people who are prepared to stand athwart the shitty tech adoption curve, it is the CPI grad students.

Which makes it genuinely baffling that Northeastern’s Senior Vice Provost for Research decided to install under-desk heat sensors throughout ISEC, overnight, without notice or consultation. The provost signed the paperwork that brought the privacy institute into being.

Students throughout ISEC were alarmed by this move, but especially students on the sixth floor, home to the Privacy Institute. When they demanded an explanation, they were told that the university was conducting a study on “desk usage.” This rang hollow: students at the Privacy Institute have assigned desks, and they badge into each room when they enter it.

As Privacy Institute PhD candidate Max von Hippel wrote, “Reader, we have assigned desks, and we use a key-card to get into the room, so, they already know how and when we use our desks.”

https://twitter.com/maxvonhippel/status/1578048837746204672

So why was the university suddenly so interested in gathering fine-grained data on desk usage? I asked von Hippel and he told me: “They are proposing that grad students share desks, taking turns with a scheduling web-app, so administrators can take over some of the space currently used by grad students. Because as you know, research always works best when you have to schedule your thinking time.”

That’s von Hippel’s theory, and I’m going to go with it, because the provost didn’t offer a better one in the flurry of memos and “listening sessions” that took place after the ISEC students arrived at work one morning to discover sensors under their desks.

This is documented in often hilarious detail in von Hippel’s thread on the scandal, in which the university administrators commit a series of unforced errors and the grad students run circles around them, in a comedy of errors straight out of “Animal House.”

https://twitter.com/maxvonhippel/status/1578048652215431168

After the sensors were discovered, the students wrote to the administrators demanding their removal, on the grounds that there was no scientific purpose for them, that they intimidated students, that they were unnecessary, and that the university had failed to follow its own rules and ask the Institutional Review Board (IRB) to review the move as a human-subjects experiment.

The letter was delivered to the provost, who offered “an impromptu listening session” in which he alienated students by saying that if they trusted the university to “give” them a degree, they should trust it to surveil them. The students bristled at this characterization, noting that students deliver research (and grant money) to “make it tick.”

[Image ID: Sensors arrayed around a kitchen table at ISEC]

The students, believing the provost was not taking them seriously, unilaterally removed all the sensors, and stuck them to their kitchen table, annotating and decorating them with Sharpie. This prompted a second, scheduled “listening session” with the provost, but this session, while open to all students, was only announced to their professors (“Beware of the leopard”).

The students got wind of this, printed up fliers and made sure everyone knew about it. The meeting was packed. The provost explained to students that he didn’t need IRB approval for his sensors because they weren’t “monitoring people.” A student countered, what was being monitored, “if not people?” The provost replied that he was monitoring “heat sources.”

https://github.com/maxvonhippel/isec-sensors-scandal/blob/main/Oct_6_2022_Luzzi_town_hall.pdf

Remember, these are grad students. They asked the obvious question: which heat sources are under desks, if not humans (von Hippel: “rats or kangaroos?”). The provost fumbled for a while (“a service animal or something”) before admitting, “I guess, yeah, it’s a human.”

Having yielded the point, the provost pivoted, insisting that there was no privacy interest in the data, because “no individual data goes back to the server.” But these aren’t just grad students — they’re grad students who specialize in digital privacy. Few people on earth are better equipped to understand re-identification and de-aggregation attacks.

[Image ID: A window with a phrase written in marker, ‘We are not doing science here’ -Luzzi.]

A student told the provost, “This doesn’t matter. You are monitoring us, and collecting data for science.” The provost shot back, “we are not doing science here.” This ill-considered remark turned into an on-campus meme. I’m sure it was just blurted in the heat of the moment, but wow, was that the wrong thing to tell a bunch of angry scientists.

From the transcript, it’s clear that this is where the provost lost the crowd. He accused the students of “feeling emotion” and explaining that the data would be used for “different kinds of research. We want to see how students move around the lab.”

Now, as it happens, ISEC has an IoT lab where they take these kinds of measurements. When they do those experiments, students are required to go through IRB, get informed consent, all the stuff that the provost had bypassed. When this is pointed out, the provost says that they had been given an IRB waiver by the university’s Human Research Protection Program (HRPP).

Now a prof gets in on the action, asking, pointedly: “Is the only reason it doesn’t fall under IRB is that the data will not be published?” A student followed up by asking how the university could justify blowing $50,000 on surveillance gear when that money would have paid for a whole grad student stipend with money left over.

The provost’s answers veer into the surreal here. He points out that if he had to hire someone to monitor the students’ use of their desks, it would cost more than $50k, implying that the bill for the sensors represents a cost-savings. A student replies with the obvious rejoinder — just don’t monitor desk usage, then.

Finally, the provost started to hint at the underlying rationale for the sensors, discussing the cost of the facility to the university and dangling the possibility of improving utilization of “research assets.” A student replies, “If you want to understand how research is done, don’t piss off everyone in this building.”

Now that they have at least a vague explanation for what research question the provost is trying to answer, the students tear into his study design, explaining why he won’t learn what he’s hoping to learn. It’s really quite a good experimental design critique — these are good students! Within a few volleys, they’re pointing out how these sensors could be used to stalk researchers and put them in physical danger.

The provost turns the session over to an outside expert via a buggy Zoom connection that didn’t work. Finally, a student asks whether it’s possible that this meeting could lead to them having a desk without a sensor under it. The provost points out that their desk currently doesn’t have a sensor (remember, the students ripped them out). The student says, “I assume you’ll put one back.”

[Image ID: A ‘public art piece’ in the ISEC lobby — a table covered in sensors spelling out ‘NO!,’ surrounded by Sharpie annotations decrying the program.]

They run out of time and the meeting breaks up. Following this, the students arrange the sensors into a “public art piece” in the lobby — a table covered in sensors spelling out “NO!,” surrounded by Sharpie annotations decrying the program.

Meanwhile, students are still furious. It’s not just that the sensors are invasive, nor that they are scientifically incoherent, nor that they cost more than a year’s salary — they also emit lots of RF noise that interferes with the students’ own research. The discussion spills onto Reddit:

https://www.reddit.com/r/NEU/comments/xx7d7p/northeastern_graduate_students_privacy_is_being/

Yesterday, the provost capitulated, circulating a memo saying they would pull “all the desk occupancy sensors from the building,” due to “concerns voiced by a population of graduate students.”

https://twitter.com/maxvonhippel/status/1578101964960776192

The shitty technology adoption curve is relentless, but you can’t skip a step! Jumping straight to grad students (in a privacy lab) without first normalizing them by sticking them on the desks of poor kids in underfunded schools (perhaps after first laying off a computer science teacher to free up the budget!) was a huge tactical error.

A more tactically sound version of this is currently unfolding at CMU Computer Science, where grad students have found their offices bugged with sensors that detect movement and collect sound:

https://twitter.com/davidthewid/status/1387909329710366721

The CMU administration has wisely blamed the presence of these devices on the need to discipline low-waged cleaning staff by checking whether they’re really vacuuming the offices.

https://twitter.com/davidthewid/status/1387426812972646403

While it’s easier to put cleaners under digital surveillance than computer scientists, trying to do both at once is definitely a boss-level challenge. You might run into a scholar like David Gray Widder, who, observing that “this seems like algorithmic management of lowly paid employees to me,” unplugged the sensor in his office.

https://twitter.com/davidthewid/status/1387909329710366721

This is the kind of full-stack Luddism this present moment needs. These researchers aren’t opposed to sensors — they’re challenging the social relations of sensors, who gets sensed and who does the sensing.

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

[Image ID: A flier inviting ISEC grad students to attend an unadvertised 'listening session' with the vice-provost. It is surmounted with a sensor that has been removed from beneath a desk and annotated in Sharpie to read: 'If found by David Luzzi suck it.']