Written as a discussion paper for PUBPOL708 – Digital Democracy for the McMaster University Master of Public Policy in Digital Society
What is the role of “information and communications technology” (ICT) and the Internet on the practice of democracy? There are normative questions of what “digital democracy” means, or should be. But there is also the reality of how the Internet has evolved with the rise of “big tech” companies and how ideologies have competed over the practice of democracy in the digital sphere. In this discussion, we should also discuss how ICT and the Internet has shaped our existence as political beings and the meaning of citizenship. Mark Poster’s CyberDemocracy from 1995 still offers an important point in that the Internet has transformed us from “users” of a “tool” to individuals politically participating in a new “public sphere” — a Digital Agora in a way, to borrow from theories from Jürgen Habermas. Yet, instead of the democratizing effect that early Internet advocates believed would happen, we have also seen unintended negative consequences on the practice of politics and democracy.
To begin, ICT has transformed politics and has offered the way the state and political parties interact with citizens. Beth Simone Noveck offers a vision of “how technology can improve public institutions,” especially in expanding dialogue. Citizen engagement should be celebrated. For example, the Ontario government held open consultations on a framework for the responsible use of artificial intelligence, using tools like Google Forms and Zoom meetings to conduct remote consultations. Groups like Mass LBP have used ICT to advance participatory democracy and “citizens assemblies” to develop policy solutions. Focus groups as well play an important role as well: this author participated in an online consultation with an individual marketing firm hired by government transportation agency Metrolinx to test new signage for GO Transit. Data is being collected on users’ opinions — and this has also been used by partisan political parties as well to inform their policy platforms. Governments have also embraced “open data” by publishing online government documents, voting records, political financial contributions and more.
However, others are more critical about the use of ICT in democracy. Kenneth L. Hacker and Jan van Dijk’s introduction to their 2000 book, Digital Democracy: Issues of Theory and Practice, offer prescient challenges to the political process. This is long before the rise of social media, but it theorizes “possible illusions and even harms to democracies.” One point they raise is the way “rapid reaction” can affect the political process, which social media platforms like Twitter offer real-time reaction to political events in short, mostly un-nuanced tweets limited to 280 characters.
W. Lance Bennett and Steven Livingston propose a different perspective: that threats to democracy began long before the rise of the Internet. Long before Donald Trump, the US Republican Party — aided by conservative theorists and society elite — was coordinating a wide-scale attack on democracy based on a libertarian vision of society, fueled by racist and misogynistic sentiments. This begins decades ago with Atwater’s “Southern Strategy” and President Ronald Reagan’s dogwhistle politics to push a neoliberal, free market society. A network of conservative, wealthy, white donors built influence among the political elite, infiltrating political institutions with sympathetic politicians. But most importantly, this network contributed to a media ecosystem that feeds online disinformation.
What is to be done? Bennett and Livingston offers an initial warning: that policies regulating disinformation can actually harm democracy by stifling free speech. Fukuyama et al. outlines anti-trust solutions to regulate “big tech” companies. They are skeptical about the willingness of companies to self-regulate and advocate for a greater role for the state. I have argued in the past for a “Constitutional” solution that places “checks and balances” on technology companies that prevents them from amassing dominating power. However, Fukuyama pushes a simplistic solution: the adoption of “middleware.” The concept is not very clear. Who would offer these apps? How would they be created? Who will fund them? How will governments regulate them? Fukuyama also does not recognize what role middleware will have in fundamentally changing the foundation of the digital economic ecosystem and basic business models of technology companies, especially how it might push platforms away from a free offering (financed by the collection of data and publishing of ads) and instead create gated platforms that charges users. Fukuyama passes over what would be a better solution: “data portability.” Or he misses a type of intermediate actor: “information fiduciaries.” Fukuyama has always offered easy and naive solutions to complicated problems — such as his “End of History” thesis — and his advocating for middleware does not solve any problems.