Dear Sudo folk.
At Friday Filosophy today at noon, we will have Borekas from Grand Bakery again - this
time more potato ones for vegans and the vegan-curious.
All suggestions for topics will be considered. I propose we talk about the AutoAdmit
online defamation case from several years back. See Citizen Media Law Project page for
overview -
http://www.citmedialaw.org/threats/autoadmit; the Justia page with the full
legal docket -
http://dockets.justia.com/docket/connecticut/ctdce/3:2007cv00909/78132/;
and the original complaint at
http://docs.justia.com/cases/federal/district-courts/connecticut/ctdce/3:20….
In brief summary, an anonymous bulletin board with informal law school related chatter had
some anonymously posted horrible threads about fellow female law students, even for those
of us not easily shocked. Three first-year Yale law students were particularly targeted,
one of whom allegedly lost her summer job because her employers came across the posts on
searches (the defamers had intentionally Google bombed the search results.) Two of these
students brought a lawsuit against the website and anonymous individuals who had posted
the stuff. The case was eventually settled out of court.
The third woman - Caitlin Hall, who happened to be a student of mine at the time - was
deeply affected by the whole thing but chose not to join her classmates in the lawsuit.
She wrote this provocative Op-Ed in the Univ. of Arizona newspaper where she was a
journalist while in college called "Sex, Lies, and Broadband"
(
http://www.wildcat.arizona.edu/article/2008/05/sex_lies_and_broadband - May 21, 2008).
Below is an excerpt from it. I don't presume to know what I would have done in her
situation, but I do know that when people search for Caitlin and AutoAdmit now, this is
what usually comes up first.
We can't stop malice on the Internet. Malice finds a way. We can try to shore up the
banks of the ""real world"" with legal and digital sandbags, but
online hate speech has the slow inevitability of a tsunami. When the avenues of
publication and distribution are limitless, it becomes exceedingly difficult to control
people's behavior (a concept our Constitution's framers not only accepted, but
banked on).
Nor can we stop college students on the Internet.
Advisers invariably warn that the only way to keep unsavory information from bleeding into
the professional world is to decline to put it on the Internet in the first place. To a
college student, that solution has all the persuasive power of telling a high schooler the
only surefire way to avoid pregnancy is to forego sex.
But even if we can't stop the lambs and we can't stop the wolves, we can still
stop the slaughter. The best way to do that, counterintuitively, is to overwhelm the
market with bad information by allowing online verbal abuse to run unchecked, so that all
such speech becomes valueless, unreliable and irrelevant. That's the best solution in
that it's the most efficient, because it enlists the boundless energy of the depraved
in their own undoing. Moreover, it's the only way to bypass the question of how to
keep employers from using social software to inform hiring decisions (the answer, by the
way, is that we can't).
To state the obvious, for the first generation to be libeled on the Internet, this
solution sucks. It's no treat overhearing a stranger say he read you
""fucked your way into Yale."" It's infinitely more unpleasant
knowing your friends, parents and boss have all read the same thing. But that's the
way it has to be, in the fatalistic sense that that's the way it's going to be.
All we can control is how quickly it's over. And that, despite what some will say, is
a real choice.