New APPS: Art, Politics, Philosophy, Science

Privacy, Obscurity and Keeping Economics Where it Belongs

By Gordon Hull

In the New York Times last week, Woodrow Hartzog and Evan Selinger underscore the importance of obscurity to privacy.  They begin with an easy example: most of us do not remember the faces or names of those who stood in line with us the last time we purchased medicine at the drug store.  Presumably, they don’t remember our faces either.  Yet purchasing the drugs was done in full visibility (and invariably recorded on surveillance devices).  Hartzog and Selinger note:

“Obscurity bridges this privacy gap with the idea that the parts of our lives that are hard or unlikely to be found or understood are relatively safe. It is a combination of the privacy you have in public and the privacy you have in groups. Obscurity is a barrier that can shield you from government, corporate and social snoops. And until lawmakers, corporate leaders and citizens embrace obscurity and move to protect it, your freedom and opportunities to flourish will be in jeopardy.”

They then adduce several advantages to obscurity: it gives us breathing room to live without fear of intrusion by advertising and the like; it makes intimate relations possible by allowing us to choose with whom to share information; it gives us the space to grow as individuals without surveillance; it protects us from pressures to be conventional; and it fosters civic participation by removing the fear of being on government watch lists.

The attentive reader will notice – and I assume this Hartzog and Selinger’s point – that obscurity is shown to do a lot of the work that privacy is often said to do.  For example, Julie Cohen argued in an early copyright paper that the “right to read anonymously” is important to civil society and democratic participation because it enables the space to explore different opinions and views without fear of governmental repression.  More generally, she has argued more recently that privacy is necessary as an aspect of subjectivity; as she puts it “privacy is shorthand for breathing room to engage in the processes of boundary management that enable and constitute self-development” (1907).  Accordingly:

“But here we must come back to privacy, for the development of critical subjectivity is a realistic goal only to the extent that privacy comes into play. Subjectivity is a function of the interplay between emergent selfhood and social shaping; privacy, which inheres in the interstices of social shaping, is what permits that interplay to occur. Privacy is not a fixed condition that can be distilled to an essential core …. It enables situated subjects to navigate within preexisting cultural and social matrices, creating spaces for the play and the work of self-making.” (1911)

If this is what privacy is for, then why might obscurity help attain that?  A central problem is that privacy is poorly understood by policymakers, being generally defined in terms of whether someone has chosen to reveal information publicly.  This construction of privacy as an individual right is unfortunate at best.  Companies want our data, and so privacy doctrine construes data as something of value that we then trade for someething else we want – say access to a web service.  The model is congruent with market norms that push toward ever more disclosure and tends to lead to a market failure to meet consumer preferences. Consumers are completely unable to effectuate their preferences, and the model subtly teaches us that this is the right way to view privacy.

What I want to emphasize here is a point behind this: the construal of privacy as a market transaction pushes toward contracts as a method of enforcement because, as we have known since Hobbes, enforceable contracts are how you overcome the irrationality of trusting those with whom you may not have future interactions.*  Contracts successfully protect rights when the terms are fully disclosed and freely agreed to, and when there is recourse to the state for enforcement when private parties violate those terms.  Viewing privacy through the lens of contract inevitably pushes toward openness: as Judge Posner concluded in an influential economically-based reading, a claim to privacy is likely an effort to withhold information that would make a transaction more efficient.

Why is Data so Easily Commodified (with a detour into fish)?

By Gordon Hull

Surely one of the more striking features of the rise of data science is how readily it can be incorporated into processes of capitalist valuation, to the point that data may not just be a commodity - it may also be capital.  At one level, this sounds intuitive enough: one might suggest that data presents information about the world, and that knowledge is valuable.  But this view encounters an immediate limitation in that firms seem to want to accumulate data far beyond their ability to value it.  According to this “data imperative,” data is something to be accumulated, even if one has no clear use for it.  An additional problem is that the companies that accumulate all of this data are generally not so interested in whether it represents the world accurately.  They want it because they want to influence behaviors.

So what is going on, and is there something about data itself that makes it particularly suitable for capitalist accumulation?  To answer that question, one needs to have a handle on what data is.  Here, a recent paper by Sabina Leonelli is particularly helpful.  Lenoelli defines data as follows:

“I define ‘data’ as a relational category applied to research outputs that are taken, at specific moments of inquiry, to provide evidence for knowledge claims of interest to the researchers involved. Data thus consist of a specific way of expressing and presenting information, which is produced and/or incorporated in research practices so as to be available as a source of evidence, and whose scientific significance depends on the situation in which it is used. In this view, data do not have truth-value in and of themselves, nor can they be seen as straightforward representations of given phenomena. Rather, data are essentially fungible objects, which are defined by their portability and their prospective usefulness as evidence” (811)

Leonelli is writing from the perspective of the philosophy of science, and her paper is especially useful in that regard because she is able to embed the definition in recent work in the sociology of science and STS, such as Latour. The key takeaway is that data needs to be defined pragmatically – not what it is, but what it does.  And the key implication of that is that we need to stop thinking of data as representative.  Data is generated for a purpose, and in science, a central purpose is portability: