Harmful and Malicious Electronic Communications Bill – some thoughts

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I was happy to give some thoughts to Conor McMorrow of RTE’s The Week In Politics (segment begins at 28.30), regarding Senator Lorraine Higgins’ (Labour) Private Member’s Bill, which you can read here. I only had a few seconds to talk, so I’d like to explain my thoughts in a little more detail here.

It’s welcome that the Government is, at last, paying some attention to the problem of cyberbullying and online aggression. The bill’s mention of incitement to ‘commit suicide’, and incitement to cause serious harm to oneself are welcome. Additionally, the inclusion of ‘explicit content of the other’ (i.e. revenge porn) is welcome, but far too brief for a complex phenomenon – ‘our efforts would be better spent seeking legislation to remedy the suffering that victims actually experience’.

However, with regard to the general issue of harmful and malicious electronic communication, while its authors are clearly well meaning, they are quite naïve. At the outset, making cyberbullying illegal won’t make it suddenly disappear. The Internet Content Advisory Group Report of May 2014 largely came to this conclusion too and did not recommend legislation of this kind. There is another Bill in process which seems to be more like what the ICAG recommended, so one has to wonder about the passage of Senator Higgins’ Bill.

If passed, it may give some comfort to parents, but I suspect that will be quite short-lived. Much of what is in the Bill is already illegal, yet we are not seeing many prosecutions of cyberbullying. I suggest that there are two major reasons why that isn’t happening, both of which are present in the ICAG report, and neither of which this Bill tackles.

Firstly, what is noticeably missing from this bill is the issue of evidence. Every contact leaves a trace, but online contact is considerably more complicated. How exactly do you prove someone posted something? And how can you stop it from being shared?

For example, the ancillary orders of the Bill state that if a court decides a person should not be convicted of an offence, they can still be ordered to remove or delete specific electronic communications.

On the one hand, it shows that the author does not understand how hard it can be to remove content from the internet – ‘the internet never forgets’. What if a specific electronic communication is shared and copied beyond the initial poster’s control? How can they remove those copies?

And on the other, it shows that the author does not understand how cyberbullying is currently presenting amongst young people (nor how it is likely to further evolve if this Bill is passed). What often happens is that when an aggressor posts such a communication, they leave it up just long enough for the victim to see it and be hurt by it, and then remove it. Unless the victim has taken a screenshot, they have no evidence it occurred. So what do they bring to the Gardaí? Nothing? In that case, what powers will An Garda Síochána have to retrieve evidence from non-Irish companies?

The ICAG Report recommended that the new Rules of the Superior Courts be created for this purpose. A year on, what is the status of that? From my work on the EU Child Safety Online Project, I can safely say that there are many international, diplomatic, and technical complications to be overcome in the simple act of getting proof that a harmful or malicious electronic communication act into the hands of law enforcement. We seriously need co-ordinated action at European level on these matters but there must be political will at home to do so first.

Secondly, what is also missing from this Bill is the issue of resourcing. For this bill to be in any way enforceable, our police force needs significant amounts of training and staffing to deal with this issue. They could do with a lot more of that in this area anyway, but particularly if this Bill is to pass and become law. For example, consider a child is being bullied on Snapchat, where images automatically disappear within seconds. Snapchat has over 100 million active users and its 330 employees are entirely based in California – how likely is it that they will respond to a request from a Guard in rural Ireland? I do not think it wise to assume that they will pay much attention to digital forensic requests from dear old Ireland, unless our police force are heavily resourced to put pressure on them to do so. Moreover, and again from the ICAG report, what is the current state of the revised role of the Office for Internet Safety?

Finally, cyberbullying and online safety are complex phenomena which require broad, holistic, community-wide responses but more importantly political leadership. All across the country there are wonderful, committed and passionate people engaged in online safety issues, but to be honest it is far too piecemeal, unregulated, and inconsistent. We have had enough ‘awareness campaigns’, what is needed is substantial curriculum reform. Again, the ICAG report recommended that “internet safety and digital literacy skills are taught as a core element of the curriculum at both primary and post-primary levels”. Where are we with that?

I would prefer if, instead of writing laws like this which few people want, legislators turned their attention to ensuring the execution of the recommendations of the ICAG. Additionally, I would suggest that legislators themselves lead by example in engaging respectful, civilised and mature online communication.

But ultimately, with regard to cyberbullying and child safety online, the government needs to stop shying away from its duty of care – which means resources for victims, resources for teachers, resources for law enforcement – but not laws.

The singularity is over

(Originally published on Medium, December 10th, 2014)

Social media is bending space and time, and blending people with machines.

In the past, when we went on holidays, we’d be out of touch for a long period of time, til we returned with photographic proof of our travels. Now, with social media, even as geographic distances separate us, it is weird not to be in touch, with detail, constantly. Because we are now so busy, Google have now developed an app?—?Stories?—?to sift through all those photographs and videos to automatically create a coherent narrative for us. Now we don’t even have to think about our social selves any more…

I was thinking about this when I saw the latest tweet from the account of the European Space Agency’s Rosetta Mission.

Did anyone care that it was nearly two years before data came back from Voyager 2, in 1979? But today the public expects to have a Twitter account constantly updating on the space probe’s activity. More to the point, people interact with it. Sure, they know it’s a social media account for a robot, managed by people, but people tweet at it like it’s any other account, with a sentient being behind it.  

The exemplar of this anthromorphisation?—?projecting human characteristics onto something which isn’t human?—?came when the Mars Curiosity Rover sang itself Happy Birthday.

Of course, this is sheer bloody-minded marketing?—?to make the public (and specifically children) emotionally connected with and interested in hugely expensive interplanetary escapades?—?but this has deep cultural effects.

[Hey, I don’t even need to write the rest of this post, I could just embed the rest of my tweets…]

Sci-fi has been trying to frighten us for years with the idea that some day robots will ‘become conscious’ and start either demanding human rights or trying to destroy us. There is a strong argument that it isn’t possible to model consciousness, so we should really stop worrying about that entirely.

But there is something else happening, which is a lot more interesting culturally. While we may never have conscious robots, what we will have is robots that we treat as human. Have another look at the replies to the Rosetta mission robot…

We are automating our social lives and socialising with our automatons. The singularity is over.

Keeping off social media when grieving or vulnerable could help avoid trolls

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(Originally published on The Conversation15 August 2014)

When I read that Robin William’s daughter Zelda was deleting her Twitter and Instagram because of abusive messages in the aftermath of her father’s death, I recalled Richard Dawkins’ book The Selfish Gene.

Dawkins, a biologist, talks about the risks that organisms take to survive: “If you go down to the water-hole to drink, you increase your risk of being eaten by predators who make their living lurking for prey by water-holes. If you do not go down to the water-hole you will eventually die of thirst. There are risks whichever way you turn.”

While a hungry lion attacking a thirsty zebra might seem quite far removed from the experience of Zelda Williams, there are some similar dynamics. Our need to express grief may not be quite as pressing as the need for water, but both can be seen as instances of vulnerability in the eyes of a predator – some just happen to be online.

Much has been written about why we say things online which we later regret, but what is less well understood is the behaviour of those who intentionally set out to attack and inflict pain on others. While the term “online predator” has been somewhat maligned when referring to sexual behaviour, we do know that such individuals tend to seek out the maladjusted or vulnerable as their victims. In this context we are talking about trolls as predators – behaviour which is correlated with psychopathy and Machiavellianism, but especially with sadism.

What research has not shown is how or why these individuals select their victims. My hypothesis is that there is a common factor: noticeable weakness.

In the case of Zelda Williams, her public grief was effectively an advertisement of vulnerability, which seems to attract a particular type of predator – the “RIP troll”. Research has argued that such individuals are attempting to lampoon media and public over-sentimentality, though this is of little comfort to their victims. As has been noted, there is still an aspect of human psychology which enjoys inflicting pain on the others, which is most easily achieved online, where can also be easy to remain anonymous.

While in no way wishing to engage in victim-blaming, I suggest that those in mourning consider avoiding social media for a while. In many cultures, it is traditional for the bereaved to withdraw from social engagements for a certain length of time. Usually interpreted as respect for the dead, mourning periods have a protective function, in removing the individual from events which may trigger grief. Fundamentally, it is much easier to avoid RIP trolls when offline.

This will be cold comfort for those who lack strong offline social support, and research has long shown that social networking sites are used by young adults for emotional, as well as informational support (Zelda Williams has also said the support she received online meant a lot). Risk of attack is mitigated when one’s profile is only visible to those we personally know and trust, but as social networks have become larger and more open, that is increasingly difficult to achieve.

Harmful speech may not be illegal, but it is nonetheless harmful – and companies need to understand their moral responsibilities as well as their legal ones. Twitter have announced that they are in the process of evaluating how they improve their policies to better handle tragic situations.

At the same time, it is worth bearing in mind that such tools will always be co-opted, and as such we should choose them wisely: for example, it seems that Facebook’s reporting function is being used to silence dissent. However, in the same way we now have pretty robust defences against email spam, users expect protection from harmful speech. In the meantime, the best way to avoid suffering the attacks Zelda Williams received is to observe a cyber-mourning period of sorts.

The Conversation

This article was originally published on The Conversation.
Read the original article.

System justification and public sector reform: The psychology of the permanent government

Why, perhaps even more noticeably than other election promises, have successive governments’ pledges to reform the public sector, failed? Why, when previously in opposition vociferously calling for changes in practice, do politicians seem to substantially dilute their proposals? What exactly happens to the politicians we elect once they get into government?

In this post I shall outline psychological factors which I believe are at work in this context. At the outset, by ‘public sector reform’, I mean all aspects of the state – not only health, education, and similar departments, but also political reform – so as to encompass the organizational behaviour of every person employed by the state. Thus I am outlining what I believe to be the major psychological processes which militate against a new government’s reform agenda, whatever it may be.

Organisational change

How can ‘the system’ be changed? This is rather unclear theoretically, but we can be sure that it is an emotional, not a logical process. ‘Organisational change management’ is a particular academic subdiscipline in itself which has grown substantially in recent years and is generally applied to private sector enterprises, though we can find some clues for public sector reform also. It is worth noting at the outset, however that it is an area riven with difficulties – a recent review suggests that the organisational change management frequently fails…

…. since what is currently available is a wide range of contradictory and confusing theories and approaches, which are mostly lacking empirical evidence and often based on unchallenged hypotheses regarding the nature of contemporary organisational change management. (By, 2005, p. 378).

… which isn’t exactly encouraging. In practice, we find that organisational change is a very difficult and tiresome process. I’ll try to outline some global themes:-

  • An study of the Italian public sector reform rather simply concluded that a particular set of reforms (namely managerial performance management) regularly failed in several different cases largely because of a lack of “effective understanding of the purpose and the usefulness of the new instrument by key organizational actors” (Azzenone and Palermo, 2011, p. 107)
  • An Israeli study suggests that the single most effect predictor of resistance to organisational change is trust in management (Oreg, 2006).
  • An Australian study suggests that irrational ideas, exacerbated by emotion, increase behavioural intention to resist change (Bovey & Hede, 2001).
  • A New Zealand case study of a failed and expensive attempt to introduce a new information system found that the basic reason for its failure was simply pessimism about the proposed change (Dale & Goldfinch, 2002).
  • A French study of change management identified the lack of inclusion of middle management as problematic for higher management’s implementation of the change process (Fronda & Moriceau, 2008).
  • Another Australian study of improving efficiency in local government is less effective when implemented from a ‘top-down’
    perspective than from a ‘bottom-up’ (Dollery, Crase & O’Keefe, 2005).

In summary, certain questions must be asked of the strategy by which public sector reform has currently been attempted. Chief among these must surely be regarding the level of faith and trust which the employees have in management. Such a question would necessitate genuine consultation with the workforce. In such a process, it would also be advisable to go some length to acknowledging the anxieties and fears of the workforce with regard to their employment, which may go some way to countering pessimism of change.

With public sector reform, the bottom line is: how often, how comprehensively and how honestly are lower levels consulted? This is the basic point – the management of expectations and emotions. People must be consulted on changes which they perceive will affect their lives.

System justification

However, these aren’t the core psychological issues. Largely the work of John Jost at NYU, system justification theory essentially holds that people will work to maintain the status quo, which is not in itself surprising, but will also do so when it is not in their own interest – it is the “…process by which existing social arrangements are legitimized, even at the expense of personal and group interest” (Jost & Banaji, 1994, p. 2). Jost has continued to develop this vein of research in explaining how disadvantaged and minority groups will support social systems which are clearly not in their favour, but in our current context we can see a straightforward application of these ideas – notice how often phrases such as ‘that’s the way things are done’, ‘that’s just the way it is’ are used in the context of the civil service. These ideas are at the heart of system justification theory – the rationalisation of the status quo.

In this regard there is a human psychological preference for a system, institution, procedure, outcome, practice or behaviour which is currently in place, and will regard it as fair and legitimate, even when there are good reasons to believe otherwise. In fact, those who are most disadvantaged by a system are often the strongest supporters of it.

But the bottom line is really that the longer that a person is part of the ‘system’ the more likely they are to support it and as such, it is naive to expect that even a reforming or young career politician will be able to affect much change once elected, as they simply become part of the system and working in and with it. We should also not be too surprised that, in reactance to this effect, that politicians hire friends and family as advisors and staff – this is an attempt to counterbalance the effect of being outnumbered by the civil service system.

Jost’s (2002) work has also shown how the use of stereotypes are regularly used, often interchangeably, to support the argument that the system cannot be changed – think of the stereotypical picture of the public sector worker, and think again of your own opinion of changing the system. Even though we might be the ones most disadvantaged by the current state of affairs, we fall back on clichés and heuristics in returning to the conclusion that nothing can be done about it. Consequently, when reforms fail, for the reasons mentioned earlier, these opinions of ours are reinforced – that that’s the way things are, and nothing can be done about it. As such, changing the way the public sector works is always going to be an uphill battle because of these deep-seated psychological factors – and that’s even before we get into other ideas like our overt desire for, but ultimate rejection of, creative ideas.

Interestingly though, what Jost has found though, is that once a social change is portrayed as inevitable, that even the most strident opponents of the change rapidly come to terms with it. This is a useful observation for those implementing change, as it means that while there may be resistance to ideas presented fait accompli, it is unlikely to last. It does, however, present us with a problem, based somewhat on the realisation that the above relationship is one that is understood by certain politicians and decision-makers – they know that if a reform is presented as fully decided, and inevitable, people will go along with it eventually – indeed, this is often lauded as decisive decision-making. Hence, this ‘route one’ method of reform is favoured by politicians, as the changes made will come to pass and eventually be accepted, once they are presented as unavoidable.

However, such a process is not dependent on the actual quality of the decision or reform being implemented – it does not relate to success or viability (decentralisation, anyone?). From the preceding review of organisational change, we know that successful reforms must be developed in consultation with those who they will effect, which will inevitably take time. Such a lengthy process is precisely the opposite of the sort of behaviour which politicians like to be seen to take – the dithering report commissioner. Without getting too much into the psychology of leadership and decision-making, we are therefore in something of a time-bind when it comes to public sector reform, even before election cycles come into play: act quickly, gain acceptance quickly, appear decisive, but run the risk of making huge mistakes, or act slowly, in consultation, probably making better reforms, but appear as a ditherer. In addition, as politicians know, there exists a certain goodwill window of opportunity for new governments to implement reforms easily and in good faith, but once that closes, reforms prove much more difficult. How the current administration has utilised these features of the psycho-political timescape remains to be seen.

 

Permanent government

I would like to close on an optimistic note, but that isn’t exactly easy. As I hope I have outlined in some detail, there are considerable organisational obstacles and psychological factors which will militate against public sector reform, in any context. The system will basically react against any attempt to change it, having the advantages of holding the territory and demoralised opponents, as Sun Tzu might say. I can’t see any but I do think that it is essential that policy-making diversifies beyond political party headquarters. Ireland needs more independent think tanks and research institutes, and possibly a place for the citizens’ assemblies of the kind that David Farrell et al are fond of in that regard also. Ultimately, the only solution lies in hard work, good research and open minds.

 

Questions, comments and suggestions for future posts of this kind all warmly encouraged,

 

 

Ciarán