It’s Time to Break Up Facebook
It’s Time to Break Up Facebook
© Jessica Chou for The
New York Times May 9, 2019
The last time I saw Mark Zuckerberg was in the
summer of 2017, several months before the Cambridge Analytica scandal
broke. We met at Facebook’s Menlo Park, Calif., office and drove to
his house, in a quiet, leafy neighborhood. We spent an hour or two together
while his toddler daughter cruised around. We talked politics mostly, a little
about Facebook, a bit about our families. When the shadows grew long, I had to
head out. I hugged his wife, Priscilla, and said goodbye to Mark.
Since
then, Mark’s personal reputation and the reputation of Facebook have taken a
nose-dive. The company’s mistakes — the sloppy privacy practices that dropped
tens of millions of users’ data into a political consulting firm’s lap; the
slow response to Russian agents, violent rhetoric and fake news; and the
unbounded drive to capture ever more of our time and attention — dominate the
headlines. It’s been 15 years since I co-founded Facebook at Harvard, and I
haven’t worked at the company in a decade. But I feel a sense of anger and
responsibility.
Watch: A founder of Facebook says it should be broken
up.
Mark is
still the same person I watched hug his parents as they left our dorm’s common
room at the beginning of our sophomore year. He is the same person who
procrastinated studying for tests, fell in love with his future wife while in
line for the bathroom at a party and slept on a mattress on the floor in a
small apartment years after he could have afforded much more. In other words,
he’s human. But it’s his very humanity that makes his unchecked power so
problematic.
Facebook
founder and CEO Mark Zuckerberg ranks among the most influential people of the
21st century. A Harvard dropout, he founded Facebook in 2004 at age 19. Today,
his name is listed among the most powerful people on the planet. Here are some
interesting facts about the young billionaire.
Mark’s
influence is staggering, far beyond that of anyone else in the private sector
or in government. He controls three core communications platforms — Facebook,
Instagram and WhatsApp — that billions of people use every day. Facebook’s
board works more like an advisory committee than an overseer, because Mark
controls around 60 percent of voting shares. Mark alone can decide how to
configure Facebook’s algorithms to determine what people see in their News
Feeds, what privacy settings they can use and even which messages get
delivered. He sets the rules for how to distinguish violent and incendiary
speech from the merely offensive, and he can choose to shut down a competitor
by acquiring, blocking or copying it.
Mark’s
influence is staggering, far beyond that of anyone else in the private sector
or in government.
Mark is
a good, kind person. But I’m angry that his focus on growth led him to sacrifice
security and civility for clicks. I’m disappointed in myself and the early
Facebook team for not thinking more about how the News Feed algorithm could
change our culture, influence elections and empower nationalist leaders. And
I’m worried that Mark has surrounded himself with a team that reinforces his
beliefs instead of challenging them.
The
government must hold Mark accountable. For too long, lawmakers have marveled at
Facebook’s explosive growth and overlooked their responsibility to ensure that
Americans are protected and markets are competitive. Any day now, the Federal
Trade Commission is expected to impose a $5 billion fine on the company, but
that is not enough; nor is Facebook’s offer to appoint some kind of privacy
czar. After Mark’s congressional testimony last year, there should have been
calls for him to truly reckon with his mistakes. Instead the legislators who
questioned him were derided as too old and out of touch to understand how tech
works. That’s the impression Mark wanted Americans to have, because it means
little will change.
We are
a nation with a tradition of reining in monopolies, no matter how well
intentioned the leaders of these companies may be. Mark’s power is
unprecedented and un-American.
It is
time to break up Facebook.
We
already have the tools we need to check the domination of Facebook. We
just seem to have forgotten about them.
America
was built on the idea that power should not be concentrated in any one person,
because we are all fallible. That’s why the founders created a system of checks
and balances. They didn’t need to foresee the rise of Facebook to understand
the threat that gargantuan companies would pose to democracy. Jefferson and
Madison were voracious readers of Adam Smith, who believed that monopolies
prevent the competition that spurs innovation and leads to economic growth.
A
century later, in response to the rise of the oil, railroad and banking trusts
of the Gilded Age, the Ohio Republican John Sherman said on the floor of
Congress: “If we will not endure a king as a political power, we should not
endure a king over the production, transportation and sale of any of the
necessities of life. If we would not submit to an emperor, we should not submit
to an autocrat of trade with power to prevent competition and to fix the price
of any commodity.” The Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890 outlawed monopolies. More
legislation followed in the 20th century, creating legal and regulatory
structures to promote competition and hold the biggest companies accountable.
The Department of Justice broke up monopolies like Standard Oil and AT&T.
For
many people today, it’s hard to imagine government doing much of anything
right, let alone breaking up a company like Facebook. This isn’t by
coincidence.
Starting
in the 1970s, a small but dedicated group of economists, lawyers and
policymakers sowed the seeds of our cynicism. Over the next 40 years, they
financed a network of think tanks, journals, social clubs, academic centers and
media outlets to teach an emerging generation that private interests should
take precedence over public ones. Their gospel was simple: “Free” markets are
dynamic and productive, while government is bureaucratic and ineffective. By
the mid-1980s, they had largely managed to relegate energetic antitrust
enforcement to the history books.
This
shift, combined with business-friendly tax and regulatory policy, ushered in a
period of mergers and acquisitions that created megacorporations. In the past
20 years, more than 75 percent of American industries, from airlines to
pharmaceuticals, have experienced increased concentration, and the average size
of public companies has tripled. The results are a decline in entrepreneurship,
stalled productivity growth, and higher prices and fewer choices for consumers.
The
same thing is happening in social media and digital communications. Because
Facebook so dominates social networking, it faces no market-based
accountability. This means that every time Facebook messes up, we repeat an
exhausting pattern: first outrage, then disappointment and, finally,
resignation.
In
2005, I was in Facebook’s first office, on Emerson Street in downtown
Palo Alto, when I read the news that Rupert Murdoch’s News Corporation was
acquiring the social networking site Myspace for $580 million. The overhead
lights were off, and a group of us were pecking away on our keyboards, our
21-year-old faces half-illuminated by the glow of our screens. I heard a “whoa,”
and the news then ricocheted silently through the room, delivered by AOL
Instant Messenger. My eyes widened. Really, $580 million?
Facebook
was competing with Myspace, albeit obliquely. We were focused on college
students at that point, but we had real identities while Myspace had fictions.
Our users were more engaged, visiting daily, if not hourly. We believed
Facebook surpassed Myspace in quality and would easily displace it given enough
time and money. If Myspace was worth $580 million, Facebook could be worth at
least double.
From
our earliest days, Mark used the word “domination” to describe our ambitions,
with no hint of irony or humility. Back then, we competed with a whole host of
social networks, not just Myspace, but also Friendster, Twitter, Tumblr,
LiveJournal and others. The pressure to beat them spurred innovation and led to
many of the features that distinguish Facebook: simple, beautiful interfaces,
the News Feed, a tie to real-world identities and more.
From
our earliest days, Mark used the word “domination” to describe our ambitions.
It was
this drive to compete that led Mark to acquire, over the years, dozens of other
companies, including Instagram and WhatsApp in 2012 and 2014. There was nothing
unethical or suspicious, in my view, in these moves.
One
night during the summer of the Myspace sale, I remember driving home from work
with Mark, back to the house we shared with several engineers and designers. I
was in the passenger seat of the Infiniti S.U.V. that our investor Peter Thiel
had bought for Mark to replace the unreliable used Jeep that he had been
driving.
As we
turned right off Valparaiso Avenue, Mark confessed the immense pressure he
felt. “Now that we employ so many people …” he said, trailing off. “We just
really can’t fail.”
Facebook
had gone from a project developed in our dorm room and chaotic summer houses to
a serious company with lawyers and a human resources department. We had around
50 employees, and their families relied on Facebook to put food on the table. I
gazed out the window and thought to myself, It’s never going to stop. The bigger we get, the
harder we’ll have to work to keep growing.
Over a
decade later, Facebook has earned the prize of domination. It is worth half a
trillion dollars and commands, by my estimate, more than 80 percent of the
world’s social networking revenue. It is a powerful monopoly, eclipsing all of
its rivals and erasing competition from the social networking category. This
explains why, even during the annus horribilis of 2018, Facebook’s earnings per
share increased by an astounding 40 percent compared with the year before. (I
liquidated my Facebook shares in 2012, and I don’t invest directly in any
social media companies.)
Facebook’s
monopoly is also visible in its usage statistics. About 70 percent of American
adults use social media, and a vast majority are on Facebook products. Over
two-thirds use the core site, a third use Instagram, and a fifth use WhatsApp.
By contrast, fewer than a third report using Pinterest, LinkedIn or Snapchat.
What started out as lighthearted entertainment has become the primary way that
people of all ages communicate online.
Even
when people want to quit Facebook, they don’t have any meaningful alternative,
as we saw in the aftermath of the Cambridge Analytica scandal. Worried about
their privacy and lacking confidence in Facebook’s good faith, users across the
world started a “Delete Facebook” movement. According to the Pew Research
Center, a quarter deleted their accounts from their phones, but many did so
only temporarily. I heard more than one friend say, “I’m getting off Facebook
altogether — thank God for Instagram,” not realizing that Instagram was a
Facebook subsidiary. In the end people did not leave the company’s platforms en
masse. After all, where would they go?
Facebook’s
dominance is not an accident of history. The company’s strategy was to
beat every competitor in plain view, and regulators and the government tacitly
— and at times explicitly — approved. In one of the government’s few attempts
to rein in the company, the F.T.C. in 2011 issued a consent decree that
Facebook not share any private information beyond what users already agreed to.
Facebook largely ignored the decree. Last month, the day after the company
predicted in an earnings call that it would need to pay up to $5 billion as a
penalty for its negligence — a slap on the wrist — Facebook’s shares surged 7
percent, adding $30 billion to its value, six times the size of the fine.
F.T.C.’s
biggest mistake was to allow Facebook to acquire Instagram and WhatsApp. In
2012, the newer platforms were nipping at Facebook’s heels because they had
been built for the smartphone, where Facebook was still struggling to gain
traction. Mark responded by buying them, and the F.T.C. approved.
Neither
Instagram nor WhatsApp had any meaningful revenue, but both were incredibly
popular. The Instagram acquisition guaranteed Facebook would preserve its
dominance in photo networking, and WhatsApp gave it a new entry into mobile
real-time messaging. Now, the founders of Instagram and WhatsApp have left the
company after clashing with Mark over his management of their platforms. But
their former properties remain Facebook’s, driving much of its recent growth.
When it
hasn’t acquired its way to dominance, Facebook has used its monopoly position
to shut out competing companies or has copied their technology.
The
News Feed algorithm reportedly prioritized videos created through Facebook over
videos from competitors, like YouTube and Vimeo. In 2012, Twitter introduced a
video network called Vine that featured six-second videos. That same day,
Facebook blocked Vine from hosting a tool that let its users search for their
Facebook friends while on the new network. The decision hobbled Vine, which
shut down four years later.
Snapchat
posed a different threat. Snapchat’s Stories and impermanent messaging options
made it an attractive alternative to Facebook and Instagram. And unlike Vine,
Snapchat wasn’t interfacing with the Facebook ecosystem; there was no obvious
way to handicap the company or shut it out. So Facebook simply copied it.
Facebook’s
version of Snapchat’s stories and disappearing messages proved wildly
successful, at Snapchat’s expense. At an all-hands meeting in 2016, Mark told
Facebook employees not to let their pride get in the way of giving users what
they want. According to Wired magazine, “Zuckerberg’s message became an
informal slogan at Facebook: ‘Don’t be too proud to copy.’”
Would-be
competitors can’t raise the money to take on Facebook.
As a
result of all this, would-be competitors can’t raise the money to take on
Facebook. Investors realize that if a company gets traction, Facebook will copy
its innovations, shut it down or acquire it for a relatively modest sum. So
despite an extended economic expansion, increasing interest in high-tech
start-ups, an explosion of venture capital and growing public distaste for
Facebook, no major social networking company has been founded since the fall of
2011.
As
markets become more concentrated, the number of new start-up businesses
declines. This holds true in other high-tech areas dominated by single
companies, like search (controlled by Google) and e-commerce (taken over by
Amazon). Meanwhile, there has been plenty of innovation in areas where there is
no monopolistic domination, such as in workplace productivity (Slack, Trello,
Asana), urban transportation (Lyft, Uber, Lime, Bird) and cryptocurrency
exchanges (Ripple, Coinbase, Circle).
I don’t
blame Mark for his quest for domination. He has demonstrated nothing more
nefarious than the virtuous hustle of a talented entrepreneur. Yet he has
created a leviathan that crowds out entrepreneurship and restricts consumer
choice. It’s on our government to ensure that we never lose the magic of the
invisible hand. How did we allow this to happen?
Since
the 1970s, courts have
become increasingly hesitant to break up companies or block
mergers unless consumers are paying inflated prices that would be lower in a
competitive market. But a narrow reliance on whether or not consumers have
experienced price gouging fails to take into account the full cost of market
domination. It doesn’t recognize that we also want markets to be competitive to
encourage innovation and to hold power in check. And it is out of step with the
history of antitrust law. Two of the last major antitrust suits, against
AT&T and IBM in the 1980s, were grounded in the argument that they had used
their size to stifle innovation and crush competition.
As the
Columbia law professor Tim Wu writes, “It is a disservice to the laws and their
intent to retain such a laserlike focus on price effects as the measure of all
that antitrust was meant to do.”
Facebook
is the perfect case on which to reverse course, precisely because Facebook
makes its money from targeted advertising, meaning users do not pay to use the
service. But it is not actually free, and it certainly isn’t harmless.
Facebook’s
business model is built on capturing as much of our attention as possible to
encourage people to create and share more information about who they are and
who they want to be. We pay for Facebook with our data and our attention, and
by either measure it doesn’t come cheap.
I was
on the original News Feed team (my name is on the patent), and that product now
gets billions of hours of attention and pulls in unknowable amounts of data
each year. The average Facebook user spends an hour a day on the platform;
Instagram users spend 53 minutes a day scrolling through pictures and videos.
They create immense amounts of data — not just likes and dislikes, but how many
seconds they watch a particular video — that Facebook uses to refine its
targeted advertising. Facebook also collects data from partner companies and
apps, without most users knowing about it, according to testing by The Wall
Street Journal.
Some
days, lying on the floor next to my 1-year-old son as he plays with his
dinosaurs, I catch myself scrolling through Instagram, waiting to see if the
next image will be more beautiful than the last. What am I doing? I know it’s
not good for me, or for my son, and yet I do it anyway.
The
choice is mine, but it doesn’t feel like a choice. Facebook seeps into every
corner of our lives to capture as much of our attention and data as possible
and, without any alternative, we make the trade.
The
vibrant marketplace that once drove Facebook and other social media companies
to compete to come up with better products has virtually disappeared. This
means there’s less chance of start-ups developing healthier, less exploitative
social media platforms. It also means less accountability on issues like
privacy.
Just
last month, Facebook seemingly tried to bury news that it had stored tens of
millions of user passwords in plain text format, which thousands of Facebook
employees could see. Competition alone wouldn’t necessarily spur privacy protection
— regulation is required to ensure accountability — but Facebook’s lock on the
market guarantees that users can’t protest by moving to alternative platforms.
The
most problematic aspect of Facebook’s power is Mark’s
unilateral control over speech. There is no precedent for his ability to
monitor, organize and even censor the conversations of two billion people.
Facebook
engineers write algorithms that select which users’ comments or experiences end
up displayed in the News Feeds of friends and family. These rules are
proprietary and so complex that many Facebook employees themselves don’t
understand them.
In
2014, the rules favored curiosity-inducing “clickbait” headlines. In 2016, they
enabled the spread of fringe political views and fake news, which made it
easier for Russian actors to manipulate the American electorate. In January
2018, Mark announced that the algorithms would favor non-news content shared by
friends and news from “trustworthy” sources, which his engineers interpreted —
to the confusion of many — as a boost for anything in the category of
“politics, crime, tragedy.”
Facebook
has responded to many of the criticisms of how it manages speech by hiring
thousands of contractors to enforce the rules that Mark and senior executives
develop. After a few weeks of training, these contractors decide which videos
count as hate speech or free speech, which images are erotic and which are
simply artistic, and which live streams are too violent to be broadcast. (The
Verge reported that some of these moderators, working through a vendor in
Arizona, were paid $28,800 a year, got limited breaks and faced significant
mental health risks.)
As if
Facebook’s opaque algorithms weren’t enough, last year we learned that Facebook
executives had permanently deleted their own messages from the platform,
erasing them from the inboxes of recipients; the justification was corporate
security concerns. When I look at my years of Facebook messages with Mark now,
it’s just a long stream of my own light-blue comments, clearly written in
response to words he had once sent me. (Facebook now offers this as a feature
to all users.)
The
most extreme example of Facebook manipulating speech happened in Myanmar in
late 2017. Mark
said in a Vox interview that he personally made the decision to delete the
private messages of Facebook users who were encouraging genocide there. “I
remember, one Saturday morning, I got a phone call,” he said, “and we detected
that people were trying to spread sensational messages through — it was
Facebook Messenger in this case — to each side of the conflict, basically
telling the Muslims, ‘Hey, there’s about to be an uprising of the Buddhists, so
make sure that you are armed and go to this place.’ And then the same thing on
the other side.”
Mark
made a call: “We stop those messages from going through.” Most people would
agree with his decision, but it’s deeply troubling that he made it with no
accountability to any independent authority or government. Facebook could, in
theory, delete en masse the messages of Americans, too, if its leadership
decided it didn’t like them.
Mark
used to insist that Facebook was just a “social utility,” a neutral platform
for people to communicate what they wished. Now he recognizes that Facebook is
both a platform and a publisher and that it is inevitably making decisions
about values. The company’s own lawyers have argued in court that Facebook is a
publisher and thus entitled to First Amendment protection.
No one
at Facebook headquarters is choosing what single news story everyone in America
wakes up to, of course. But they do decide whether it will be an article from a
reputable outlet or a clip from “The Daily Show,” a photo from a friend’s
wedding or an incendiary call to kill others.
Mark
knows that this is too much power and is pursuing a twofold strategy to
mitigate it. He is pivoting Facebook’s focus toward encouraging more private,
encrypted messaging that Facebook’s employees can’t see, let alone control.
Second, he is hoping for friendly oversight from regulators and other industry
executives.
Late
last year, he proposed an independent commission to handle difficult content
moderation decisions by social media platforms. It would afford an independent
check, Mark argued, on Facebook’s decisions, and users could appeal to it if
they disagreed. But its decisions would not have the force of law, since
companies would voluntarily participate.
In an
op-ed essay in The Washington Post in March, he wrote, “Lawmakers often tell me
we have too much power over speech, and I agree.” And he went even further than
before, calling for more government regulation — not just on speech, but also
on privacy and interoperability, the ability of consumers to seamlessly leave
one network and transfer their profiles, friend connections, photos and other
data to another.
I don’t
think these proposals were made in bad faith. But I do think they’re an attempt
to head off the argument that regulators need to go further and break up the
company. Facebook isn’t afraid of a few more rules. It’s afraid of an antitrust
case and of the kind of accountability that real government oversight would
bring.
We
don’t expect calcified rules or voluntary commissions to work to regulate drug
companies, health care companies, car manufacturers or credit card providers.
Agencies oversee these industries to ensure that the private market works for
the public good. In these cases, we all understand that government isn’t an
external force meddling in an organic market; it’s what makes a dynamic and
fair market possible in the first place. This should be just as true for social
networking as it is for air travel or pharmaceuticals.
In
the summer of 2006, Yahoo offered us $1 billion for Facebook. I
desperately wanted Mark to say yes. Even my small slice of the company would
have made me a millionaire several times over. For a 22-year-old scholarship
kid from small-town North Carolina, that kind of money was unimaginable. I
wasn’t alone — just about every other person at the company wanted the same.
It was
taboo to talk about it openly, but I finally asked Mark when we had a moment
alone, “How are you feeling about Yahoo?” I got a shrug and a one-line answer:
“I just don’t know if I want to work for Terry Semel,” Yahoo’s chief executive.
Outside
of a couple of gigs in college, Mark had never had a real boss and seemed
entirely uninterested in the prospect. I didn’t like the idea much myself, but
I would have traded having a boss for several million dollars any day of the
week. Mark’s drive was infinitely stronger. Domination meant domination, and
the hustle was just too delicious.
Mark
may never have a boss, but he needs to have some check on his power. The
American government needs to do two things: break up Facebook’s monopoly and
regulate the company to make it more accountable to the American people.
Famous
people like Cristiano Ronaldo, Taylor Swift, Barack Obama and rock bands like
Metallica and Coldplay all boast huge popularity on Facebook. Here’s a list of
top 50 most liked men and women ranked according to Fanpagelist.com as
of Oct. 10, 2017.
*The Facebook
accounts for 50 Cents and Snoop Dogg ranked 49th and 50th couldn't be verified,
so the list starts from rank 52.
First,
Facebook should be separated into multiple companies. The F.T.C., in
conjunction with the Justice Department, should enforce antitrust laws by
undoing the Instagram and WhatsApp acquisitions and banning future acquisitions
for several years. The F.T.C. should have blocked these mergers, but it’s not
too late to act. There is precedent for correcting bad decisions — as recently
as 2009, Whole Foods settled antitrust complaints by selling off the Wild Oats
brand and stores that it had bought a few years earlier.
There
is some evidence that we may be headed in this direction. Senator Elizabeth Warren
has called for reversing the Facebook mergers, and in February, the F.T.C.
announced the creation of a task force to monitor competition among tech
companies and review previous mergers.
How
would a breakup work? Facebook would have a brief period to spin off the
Instagram and WhatsApp businesses, and the three would become distinct
companies, most likely publicly traded. Facebook shareholders would initially
hold stock in the new companies, although Mark and other executives would
probably be required to divest their management shares.
Until
recently, WhatsApp and Instagram were administered as independent platforms
inside the parent company, so that should make the process easier. But time is
of the essence: Facebook is working quickly to integrate the three, which would
make it harder for the F.T.C. to split them up.
Some
economists are skeptical that breaking up Facebook would spur
that much competition, because Facebook, they say, is a “natural” monopoly.
Natural monopolies have emerged in areas like water systems and the electrical
grid, where the price of entering the business is very high — because you have
to lay pipes or electrical lines — but it gets cheaper and cheaper to add each
additional customer. In other words, the monopoly arises naturally from the
circumstances of the business, rather than a company’s illegal maneuvering. In
addition, defenders of natural monopolies often make the case that they benefit
consumers because they are able to provide services more cheaply than anyone
else.
Facebook
is indeed more valuable when there are more people on it: There are more
connections for a user to make and more content to be shared. But the cost of
entering the social network business is not that high. And unlike with pipes
and electricity, there is no good argument that the country benefits from
having only one dominant social networking company.
Still
others worry that the breakup of Facebook or other American tech companies
could be a national security problem. Because advancements in artificial
intelligence require immense amounts of data and computing power, only large
companies like Facebook, Google and Amazon can afford these investments, they
say. If American companies become smaller, the Chinese will outpace us.
While
serious, these concerns do not justify inaction. Even after a breakup, Facebook
would be a hugely profitable business with billions to invest in new
technologies — and a more competitive market would only encourage those
investments. If the Chinese did pull ahead, our government could invest in
research and development and pursue tactical trade policy, just as it is doing
today to hold China’s 5G technology at bay.
The
cost of breaking up Facebook would be next to zero for the government, and lots
of people stand to gain economically. A ban on short-term acquisitions would
ensure that competitors, and the investors who take a bet on them, would have
the space to flourish. Digital advertisers would suddenly have multiple
companies vying for their dollars.
Even
Facebook shareholders would probably benefit, as shareholders often do in the
years after a company’s split. The value of the companies that made up Standard
Oil doubled within a year of its being dismantled and had increased by fivefold
a few years later. Ten years after the 1984 breakup of AT&T, the value of
its successor companies had tripled.
But the
biggest winners would be the American people. Imagine a competitive market in
which they could choose among one network that offered higher privacy standards,
another that cost a fee to join but had little advertising and another that
would allow users to customize and tweak their feeds as they saw fit. No one
knows exactly what Facebook’s competitors would offer to differentiate
themselves. That’s exactly the point.
The
Justice Department faced similar questions of social costs and benefits with
AT&T in the 1950s. AT&T had a monopoly on phone services and
telecommunications equipment. The government filed suit under antitrust laws,
and the case ended with a consent decree that required AT&T to release its
patents and refrain from expanding into the nascent computer industry. This
resulted in an explosion of innovation, greatly increasing follow-on patents
and leading to the development of the semiconductor and modern computing. We
would most likely not have iPhones or laptops without the competitive markets
that antitrust action ushered in.
Adam
Smith was right: Competition spurs growth and innovation.
Just
breaking up Facebook is not enough. We need a new agency, empowered by
Congress to regulate tech companies. Its first mandate should be to protect
privacy.
The
Europeans have made headway on privacy with the General Data Protection
Regulation, a law that guarantees users a minimal level of protection. A landmark
privacy bill in the United States should specify exactly what control Americans
have over their digital information, require clearer disclosure to users and
provide enough flexibility to the agency to exercise effective oversight over
time. The agency should also be charged with guaranteeing basic
interoperability across platforms.
Finally,
the agency should create guidelines for acceptable speech on social media. This
idea may seem un-American — we would never stand for a government agency censoring
speech. But we already have limits on yelling “fire” in a crowded theater,
child pornography, speech intended to provoke violence and false statements to
manipulate stock prices. We will have to create similar standards that tech
companies can use. These standards should of course be subject to the review of
the courts, just as any other limits on speech are. But there is no
constitutional right to harass others or live-stream violence.
If we
don’t have public servants shaping these policies, corporations will.
Since
it was launched, Mark Zuckerberg's Facebook has become one of world's most
popular social networking websites, with 2.32 billion monthly active users as
of Dec. 31, 2018.
Click through for
some of Facebook's milestones and controversies over the years.
These
are difficult challenges. I worry that government regulators will not be able
to keep up with the pace of digital innovation. I worry that more competition
in social networking might lead to a conservative Facebook and a liberal one,
or that newer social networks might be less secure if government regulation is
weak. But sticking with the status quo would be worse: If we don’t have public
servants shaping these policies, corporations will.
Some
people doubt that an effort to break up Facebook would win in the courts, given
the hostility on the federal bench to antitrust action, or that this divided
Congress would ever be able to muster enough consensus to create a regulatory
agency for social media.
But
even if breakup and regulation aren’t immediately successful, simply pushing
for them will bring more oversight. The government’s case against Microsoft —
that it illegally used its market power in operating systems to force its
customers to use its web browser, Internet Explorer — ended in 2001 when George
W. Bush’s administration abandoned its effort to break up the company. Yet that
prosecution helped rein in Microsoft’s ambitions to dominate the early web.
Similarly,
the Justice Department’s 1970s suit accusing IBM of illegally maintaining its
monopoly on personal computer sales ended in a stalemate. But along the way,
IBM changed many of its behaviors. It stopped bundling its hardware and
software, chose an extremely open design for the operating system in its
personal computers and did not exercise undue control over its suppliers.
Professor Wu has written that this “policeman at the elbow” led IBM to steer
clear “of anything close to anticompetitive conduct, for fear of adding to the
case against it.”
We can
expect the same from even an unsuccessful suit against Facebook.
Finally,
an aggressive case against Facebook would persuade other behemoths like Google
and Amazon to think twice about stifling competition in their own sectors, out
of fear that they could be next. If the government were to use this moment to
resurrect an effective competition standard that takes a broader view of the
full cost of “free” products, it could affect a whole host of industries.
The
alternative is bleak. If we do not take action, Facebook’s monopoly will become
even more entrenched. With much of the world’s personal communications in hand,
it can mine that data for patterns and trends, giving it an advantage over
competitors for decades to come.
I
take responsibility for not sounding the alarm earlier. Don Graham,
a former Facebook board member, has accused those who criticize the company now
as having “all the courage of the last man leaping on the pile at a football
game.” The financial rewards I reaped from working at Facebook radically
changed the trajectory of my life, and even after I cashed out, I watched in
awe as the company grew. It took the 2016 election fallout and Cambridge
Analytica to awaken me to the dangers of Facebook’s monopoly. But anyone
suggesting that Facebook is akin to a pinned football player misrepresents its
resilience and power.
An era
of accountability for Facebook and other monopolies may be beginning.
Collective anger is growing, and a new cohort of leaders has begun to emerge.
On Capitol Hill, Representative David Cicilline has taken a special interest in
checking the power of monopolies, and Senators Amy Klobuchar and Ted Cruz have
joined Senator Warren in calling for more oversight. Economists like Jason
Furman, a former chairman of the Council of Economic Advisers, are speaking out
about monopolies, and a host of legal scholars like Lina Khan, Barry Lynn and
Ganesh Sitaraman are plotting a way forward.
This
movement of public servants, scholars and activists deserves our support. Mark
Zuckerberg cannot fix Facebook, but our government can.
Chris Hughes, a co-founder of Facebook, is
a co-chairman of the Economic Security Project and a senior adviser at the
Roosevelt Institute.
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