The fanatical browser
William Henry on internet terrorism in the age of customer dissatisfaction
Speaking at a conference in London recently, internet godfather Sir Tim Berners-Lee described a recent experience he had when using popular site Twitter: “All the tweets were extreme.” He asked: “Is Twitter going to be a part of [the future of the web]? We need something a bit more sophisticated.”
Condemning the social networking site still further, Sir Tim said “Twitter isn’t designed for the middle ground. It’s not a place where you have reasoned discussion.” The last few months have crystallised the hysterical nature of the internet. As self∞publishing has become very much a thing of the here and now, the boundaries that once determined quality and influence have disintegrated across much of the ever∞increasingly tangled worldwide web.
Arguments abound as to whether all∞access freedom of speech is the best thing for a society. Uprisings from autocratic states in the Middle East carry on, organised and communicated through the blogosphere. In Britain, a highly respected, squeaky clean professional footballer was proclaimed on Twitter as having a gagging order against many sections of the media wishing to comment on a supposed romantic fling. This latter has thrown the legal framework of the UK into uproar, which now needs badly requires a new definition of free speech.
In each example what is important is that both governments in the Middle East, and in the UK (whether for society’s benefit or otherwise) have failed to define and uphold internet regulations that help sustain previously adhered∞to ideologies. Pre-internet, controlling multiple voices was an issue easily dealt with, one way or another. With the advent of social media it’s not so straightforward.
It’s widely accepted that allowing access for those wishing to self-publish not only degrades the general quality of written material available online, but allows for a constant flow of unverifiable content. In∞so∞saying, if self∞publishing provides a voice for a subjugated people, who will deafen themselves in the name of the written word?
Another issue the freedom the internet provides is on territorial copyright laws. Sony, the electronics giant, has tasted notoriety on a global scale following the firm’s taking proceedings against an individual accused of reverse engineering its games consoles. Since then, the online hacker campaign against the firm has been relentless. CEO and president Howard Stringer joked recently that it took him some time to work out how many products were in production across its various divisions, partnerships and subsidiaries. Perhaps he miscalculated the security department.
Most recently, 2,000 customer details were stripped from the Canadian branch of the online mobile telephone store it runs with Ericsson. The hacker went in through an SQL injection, a loophole taught in Hackers 101.
So how have so many hackers been able to cripple the backbone of a multinational organisation? There are two schools of thought: either Sony considered themselves too big to be the subject of too grand a campaign, which is essentially true, in the sense that attacks have come from many different sources. The other, perhaps more frightening perspective, carries that by placing anything in the public sphere (and as such directly or indirectly online), an organisation immediately becomes vulnerable to attack, such is the speed of software awareness in the private sphere.
The internet offers the closest thing to worldwide freedom of speech, truly international commerce, as well as the degradation of language and communication, copyright infringement and theft, and the very real threat of hacker terrorism. A definition of extremism might be fruitful. Sources may remain anonymous.