Dave Hughes is a retired Army colonel whom some call the Cursor Cowboy. He is to electronic activism what Louis L'Amour was to westerns; in fact, he outdoes L'Amour—he invented his own genre. Back when many home computers could not even show capital letters, Hughes used his bulletin-board system to quash a zoning bill that would have imperiled thousands of home businesses.
Around Colorado Springs, in the foothills of the Rockies, Hughes blends in well. He has a penchant for cowboy hats, western boots, and Roger's Frontier Bar, where the locals play country western music on the jukebox, watch the Broncos on television, and guzzle their Coors beer—while he logs on the Net with his laptop computer from booth number one.
Nowadays, his online activism is no longer so novel. Using the Internet, a midwestern woman fights for abortion rights and helps warn clinics when violent demonstrators are on the way. Meanwhile, a Rush Limbaugh fan goes on the Internet to post summaries of his hero's shows. And a single mother in California, a female lawyer, fights for the rights of divorced fathers.
You'll also find me on the Internet—pushing TeleRead, my plan for electronic libraries for both the rich and poor. I don't want America to replicate, online, "the savage inequalities" of today's schools and public libraries. Someday, children in Watts should be able to dial up the same electronic books as children across town in Beverly Hills.
For activists like us, which strategies and tactics work best? Just what are the pitfalls to avoid? What could the future hold for activists and others in the forthcoming era of the electronic citizen? Perhaps some inklings may be found in the experiences and teachings of Dave Hughes. Despite his Stetson hat and folksy talk, he can be as modern in some ways as the trendiest software people in Silicon Valley. Consider how he lobbied Capitol Hill electronically in 1991.
The issue touched on federal support of computer networks for children in elementary and high schools. Hughes had long been a believer in the educational benefits of the personal computer. His son, Edward, though bright, suffered from mild dyslexia and once struggled to read well. Then Dave bought a Radio Shack TRS-80 Model 1 for word processing and accounting. Soon Edward was working some spreadsheet-like calculations on the TRS-80, which was hooked up to the mainframe at his school. He was also word processing his schoolwork. By the time Edward left high school, he had sharpened his reading skills and was testing in the top sixth percentile in math. He graduated from college with a double major in computers and math. McDonnell Douglas snapped up Edward to do FORTRAN programming.
Many years later, when then-Senator Al Gore was pushing for the creation of super highways for data, Dave Hughes could understand the warm, fuzzy images that the senator invoked. Gore waxed on about a little girl using a computer to dial up the Library of Congress and learn about dinosaurs. In a town where many politicians barely knew the difference between potato chips and the silicon variety, Gore was clearly the leading friend of computer nets.
However, Hughes became incensed after reading a message on the Internet by reporter Joe Abernathy. The message alluded to Gore's bill to create a National Research and Education Network.
Unlike the House incarnation of the High Performance Computing Act, the Senate version did not involve the Department of Education. And this was taking place on Gore's watch as chair of the science subcommittee within the Commerce Committee. Despite the senator's speeches, his bill was devoid of ways to foster computer networking among schoolchildren. Only the same old crowd (academics and other researchers) would come out ahead. Even the House version of the act authorized only a measly $9 million or so—out of billions—for networking in public schools. But at least the Department of Education would enjoy a place at the table during policy decisions on the High Performance Computing Act.
Energized, Hughes posted messages on the Internet, CompuServe, the WELL system in California, ECHO in New York, Metanet in Washington, D.C., and his own Old Colorado City network. "OK, Echoids," read his alarm to ECHO members, "if you believe in the networked future, and not in the elitist present, or the robber baron past, get off your cursors."
For good measure, Hughes faxed Gore's office using CompuServe. He spoke of the need for students to enjoy networking at ages when lifelong attitudes toward technology, math, science, and work are being formed, and when talent needs to reach for the stars. College is too late. The line between education and R&D can be thin in areas such as science and math, where genius may flower most brilliantly among the young.
Hughes went to bed sometime before midnight. The next day, 13 hours after his first posting, he received a phone call from Mike Nelson, Senator Gore's specialist on data highways. Nelson told him Gore's office was receiving calls and faxes from all over. Nelson said there was quite a bit of difficulty getting the Republicans to agree to the bill. Within 24 hours of that conversation, however, reporter Abernathy told Hughes that, yes, the bill would now include the Department of Education.
Today, Mike Nelson remains at odds with Hughes over what happened. "Dave's efforts had no impact on Gore's position," he said, "and quite frankly, the dozens of phone calls his messages spurred simply wasted a lot of people's time on both ends of the phone." Nelson told me that Gore's committee lacked jurisdiction over the Department of Education, and that anyway, schools had little to do with high-level R&D. "The Labor Committee had and has its own ideas about DoEd's role in educational computing and networking, and it is not the role of the Commerce Committee to define what that role is."
But whatever the jurisdictional and political challenges, they failed to prevent the final version of the Senate bill from passing on November 22, 1991, with the Department of Education included. Hughes had won. At the least, he had shown that he could rally distant strangers around the issue of school networking.
If phone calls can pour into the Hill on an arcane issue like this, word will spread among powerful insiders. Yes, Al Gore was "for" networking at levels below college, K—12 in ed-speak, but Hughes put new pressure on Gore and other politicians to match their PR with at least token specifics.
Across the Potomac River—I live in nearby Alexandria, VA, just inside the infamous Beltway—populists like Dave Hughes do not triumph as often as they should. Instead, political action committees tend to set the tone. Working for special interest groups, everyone from phone company magnates to life insurance reps, PACs dole out millions of dollars in political gifts to members of Congress. Groups rule Washington through other means as well. Some old Congressional staffers and bureaucrats don't just fade away; they eventually end up as lobbyists.
At the symbolic level, however, and maybe at others, the white hats won the K—12 Net issue. Fittingly, they excelled when they used electronic medium itself.
"This may be the first time anyone's actually formed a de facto PAC to shape legislation moment-by-moment in Washington," Abernathy told Hughes over the Internet. In the end, even Mike Nelson could not ignore Hughes. Presumably with Nelson's help, Al Gore later championed legislation that advanced K—12 networking. And the next year, when Nelson was an influential member of the Clinton Administration's transition team, he solicited Dave Hughes' thoughts on low-cost networks for schools. Boosters of school networking were no longer crazies. They were part of the mainstream now, and Hughes, regardless of his disagreements with Nelson, had been key.
The question emerges: Just how can other activists—of all political beliefs—replicate Hughes' success? This chapter discusses the Rules for Electronic Citizens.
I'm blending my own thoughts with those of veteran activists and SysOps such as Hughes (dave@oldcolo.com); Frank Odasz (franko@bigsky.dillon.mt.us), a Hughes ally and a leading advocate of school networking; Cliff Figallo (fig@well.sf.ca.us), formerly a SysOp on the WELL in San Francisco, and until recently an activist for the Electronic Frontier Foundation; and Lisa Kimball (lisa@tmn.com), who helps run Metanet, a rather civil system that includes some White House staffers among its members.
Please note that the other people's opinions often clash with mine or with each other's.
What's more, as with any rules, the ones in this chapter are made to be broken. The only exception is the one about telling the truth: life is stressful enough without pushing a cause based on falsehoods.
Like any other activists, the electronic kind will enjoy more power if they don't speak up on everything. Rather than mechanically championing all good causes, the best crusaders act with both passion and knowledge. Dave Hughes is the perfect example here. School networks weren't an abstraction to him; he had seen how BBSes could help rescue his son academically. What's more, having taught at West Point and elsewhere, Hughes himself was hardly a stranger to the field of education.
My own cause right now is TeleRead, my plan to drive down the cost of knowledge. I propose a government-industry effort to slash the cost of sharp-screened, book-friendly computers through a focused procurement program; a universally affordable national library online with fair rewards for publishers and writers of books and educational software; and a way to cost-justify TeleRead through the mass use of electronic forms for federal, state, and local paperwork, as well as consumer transactions.
How could I not fight for TeleRead? I covered a poverty beat in a midwestern factory town and saw what happened when children grew up in bookless homes. Also, I'm an expert in portable computer technology, having written a laptop guide. In addition, I receive just a fraction of the cover prices of my books, and wish that more money would go to creators and less to printers. Imagine how much a national library online would help my bargaining power, and it would let me publish myself if publishers didn't treat me decently.
What's more, I'm a consumer as well as a producer of information: I spend thousands of dollars each year on information services. At the same time, like many other writers, I'm a small business person who hates government paperwork.
Going online for TeleRead, then, is a "must," not a little detail of my life. Ideally, your own cause should be heartfelt.
Yes, you may well find a group whose causes you can make your own. Plenty of good organizations need you. What's more, when the hoods are trying to ram special-interest laws through Congress, you'll appreciate the activist groups that patrol the Hill in person. Often, however, nothing can beat the effectiveness of individuals and ad hoc groups online. Dave Hughes notes the tendency for politicians at all levels to think, "Oh, that's just the ACLU," or "What else do you expect of the AARP?" But if you're on your own, it is harder to pigeon-hole you or your ad hoc allies.
In general, although organizations still set the tone for political discourse, we need them somewhat less than before. Consider the major elements of a traditional political group—and the alternatives you can use on the Internet and other networks:
If only the world were like my IBM clone. When I hit the Return key, I know I'm ready for a new paragraph. And when I press the save button, I can hear my hard drive clicking away.
Washington and City Hall, however, are not like computers: no algorithms exist to overturn stupid laws or pass good ones. The payback for your efforts may be nonexistent or far off—perhaps beyond your lifetime. To forge ahead, you may have to feel a communion with people who aren't even born yet.
Luckily, however, not all issues are this way. There are different degrees of personal influence and rewards.
In most cases, you'll enjoy the maximum influence at the local level. One example is Dave Hughes' fight against that moronic ordinance that placed home businesses in peril. Hughes tested his thinking on at least several people before he leapt into action. Very obviously, he wanted to make sure that the effort would be worth his while. Although Hughes used a BBS system, in certain cases you can also avail yourself of the Internet, which has areas devoted to happenings in various geographical regions. Some places, such as the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area of North Carolina, even have newsgroups devoted to local and state politics.
Less personal influence may come when you're working on a national or international cause that existing groups already have on the agenda. You're fighting for or against gay rights or a Constitutional amendment calling for a balanced budget. You haven't any guarantee that you'll get your way, and you're one of many, so your role is diluted; but at least your goal is on the horizon. It isn't as if you're out championing an idea on your own; you enjoy plenty of company.
And then there is the kind of cause where your personal payback may be far off and even nonexistent. You're a cyber-Quixote. I plead guilty here; in TeleRead, I'm calling for major changes in the publishing, education, the international copyright system, and the computer industry. Do I think that TeleRead will happen next week? Well, the White House isn't exactly on the verge of crusading for a comprehensive national database full of affordable books and educational software. Even as politicians try to overcome the health care crisis, they may be setting us up for a knowledge crisis someday. Schoolchildren in the slums can retrieve many fewer books by modem than can those in rich suburbs; and school systems do not give written word its full due.
Should I abandon hope, then, because my goals are not as close as Dave Hughes' were back when he was fighting the ordinance? Definitely not. TeleRead is at the point where William F. Buckley, Jr., has written two columns endorsing the idea. I've testified before a hearing on the National Information Infrastructure. A letter on TeleRead has come from Gore ("I'm impressed with this detailed and very professional presentation"); although probably boilerplate, the letter is an indication that the Establishment at least knows of the idea now. And Newt Gingrich, Speaker of the House, keeps talking about the need to close the technological gap between rich and poor—not to mention his interest in fighting government-created paperwork, which TeleRead would do through its electronic forms feature.
Besides, major political and social changes are often incremental. Even if TeleRead became the law, my plan would happen over a number of years. And if it isn't law during the Clinton Administration? Future historians will hold the White House accountable for ignoring better alternatives to present policies. A TeleRead-style approach is inevitable. If the United States does not undertake one, other countries will. Meanwhile, civil rights groups will come to understand the perils of not establishing a national library online for rich and poor alike.
You may disagree with my reasoning. But keep in mind the lesson here: Don't rule out fighting for your favorite cause even if the payback is far off.
Another example is my plan for an Electronic Peace Corps, my proposal to upgrade telecommunications in the Third World and use computer networks to exchange technical knowledge. I came up with the idea in the 1980s; the government did not act. Now, lo and behold, the magazine of the influential Internet Society has published a proposal for an Internet Peace Corps that in many ways overlaps with mine. Am I charging plagiarism? Not at all. I'm delighted that the Society can see similar visions now, whether or not the writer read my EPC articles in the Washington Post and elsewhere. Meanwhile, a discussion of the idea has already found its way into an official report from the Office of Technology Assessment.
With a tough skin and the right genes, you may yet live to see your idea become a law. No guarantees, but remember that many members of the establishment were not always so favored in the press and society at large. How many of Bill Clinton's present supporters were on his side when it looked as if his chances of reaching the White House were zilch? The point is, most people in power have overcome major setbacks in fighting for their jobs and their ideas. If you go by your own vision, the most powerful policy makers will often respect you more, not less.
Meanwhile, take solace in an old quote from Jonathan Swift: "When a true genius appears in this world, you may know him by this sign: that the dunces are all in confederacy against him."
You cannot convince people unless you know what's on their minds. When I push TeleRead, for example, I'm on the lookout for postings that discuss the shortcomings of the present copyright system. I try to keep up with those areas of the Internet that relate to what I'm doing.
I have scores of newsgroups in the file that determine what my news-reading program will call up. At the same time, I make no attempt to read all newsgroups, even those in areas of interest. My days simply aren't long enough. Instead, I keep up with mailing lists to which people often forward and crosspost messages that appear elsewhere. Many people on these lists share my concerns. In effect, they are acting as my research assistants.
Needless to say, I also use search tools on the World Wide Web, Gopher, and other information-finders to see where files and other resources exist. But as an ongoing pointer, nothing beats a good list or newsgroup whose members share your interests and keep you up to date.
If nothing else, you'll want to use lists and newsgroups to find like-minded souls. The like-minded part is important. Yes, you want to test your thoughts on a variety of people, some foes, some potential allies; but in the end, it's the allies and the uncommitted who count, not those who are forever destined to oppose your thinking. You want your allies to write to policy makers, and your foes to resist the urge.
In pushing my TeleRead idea, for example, I presently do not spend that much time on the general discussion areas for activists. I know who my main targets are: public librarians who share my passion for affordable knowledge; people who run community networks and have a definite populist orientation; Net-oriented educators; and academics interested in electronic publications.
Compared to the usual Internet newsgroups, fewer people read my postings on these specialized mailing lists. However, the readers who do encounter me care more about my topic than Internet users at large—what's more, it wouldn't hurt someday to have the American Library Association on my side.
At any rate, given the fact that the Net teems with at least 10,000 newsgroups, I must set priorities for reading and posting.
Don't barge into a conversation on an existing topic and inflict your pet topic on others unless your subject fits in. Cliff Figallo rightly compares this to boorish behavior at a party. Still, there is a difference between a rude interruption and an explanation about how your thoughts fit in with the concerns of others.
Just try to segue gracefully; if others want your topic to be separate, please oblige them in a hurry. Good, sound, selfish reasons exist for respecting people's wishes. Some Net software, for example, offers bozo filters that can screen out messages by topic or sender. Most readers have only a limited amount of money, or time, for the Internet.
Also, in determining whether to post a message, don't forget the difference between newsgroups and mail lists. Most people—not all—have the software to wander through newsgroups by topic rather than having to suffer through every message. It's taken for granted that folks skip messages. You needn't be quite so choosy about the topics you post.
Mailing lists, however, often aren't set up with a high volume in mind, so be especially sure that your concerns fit within the lists of which you're a member. Granted, it's hard to generalize. Some lists bill themselves as "high volume" and others as "low volume." But normally, prudence is best.
Whether you're posting to a list or newsgroup, be very careful about messages of excessive length. Offer to e-mail—to the interested—your electronic manifesto. Or provide a way of downloading it as a file. I myself favored e-mail early on so that I could use cover letters to establish rapport with people reading teleread.txt. Then I started pointing people in the direction of a file posted on a Gopher.
If you go the e-mail routine, don't forget to warn requesters to write you at your regular address rather than through the list itself. Members of the list should not have their screens cluttered with messages from people requesting your file. Having learned the hard way, I sometimes use the following message in the signature that appears at the bottom of my postings on lists:
<SB2 BOX>
<M5>Please direct your responses only to me (rothman@clark.net) rather than to the entire list. Be careful that your software does not automatically send your note to everyone else, too.
A National Enquirer writer would feel at home on the Internet. As writers and readers, many Internauts favor short sentences and short paragraphs. Computer screens are harder to read than paper and can show only so much text at once. The typical posting on a newsgroup or list shouldn't be more than 400 to 500 words at most and, ideally, much shorter. That's the wisdom, and I'd agree with it most of the time.
Still, on occasion, I let my paragraphs go on. A good paragraph, after all, usually builds around a central idea. And if that idea is complex enough, the paragraph itself may end up that way.
Furthermore, the posting itself may exceed the standard length if the subject warrants it. The important thing is not to go on for thousands of words without sufficient reason.
Again, remember that you can hold down the lengths of most postings and offer to use electronic mail to send your full document. Yes, I know that 28,000 words of teleread.txt scares off many people. But it isn't as if I'm writing a quick little reaction to a new war or some other headline of the day. Instead, I'm proposing major changes in the copyright system. I'd rather that fewer people read my file than many people breeze through material full of gaps.
Whether I post a quick message or put out a long proposal, I try to do the following:
NOTE Another caveat is to make sure that people won't mind seeing the subject line repeated when others respond to your message. Once, I was publicly debating the National Information Infrastructure with a former intelligence official who, in a private reply, used some military-strength language that I felt told everything about his attitude toward the democracy and the NII. I made two bad mistakes.
Don't lie. Check your facts. Here are three good reasons:
People online who are representing groups should be especially careful lest they tarnish the reputation of the whole organization. When they're wrong, they should admit it quickly. The other day, I heard from a man who had responded to an international group's human rights campaign. He said the campaign falsely accused a Latin American country of violations. A correction eventually came, but not until the man had persistently followed up on the matter. I don't know who's right or wrong here—only that individuals and groups alike should be careful about their facts.
Luckily, with the Net, you can replace the wrong information with the right information. If you're wrong about something, don't give up on your electronic manifesto. Just issue a new version with the new facts in place. When you distribute your manifesto, date your work and let people know how they can get a more recent version.
Don't expect to convert the person who's insulting you with obnoxious messages and doing his or her best to destroy your arguments. Unless you enjoy debate for debate's sake, don't hang around if you can spend your time in a more sympathetic newsgroup or on a more promising list.
On the other hand, there are times when flaming can actually help you. Suppose that you feel that plenty of readers do indeed sympathize with you; then argue on! The more unreasonable the other side is and the cheaper the shots against you, the more sensible you and your arguments seem to onlookers.
The Net jargon for onlookers, of course, is lurkers—people who read but don't post. It's been said that for every one person posting on computer nets, at least 10 others are lurking. So engage the foe, but play to the lurkers.
ETERNAL FLAMES: A CAVEAT
Whether you're an individual or a group, encourage your readers to act in one way or another—and provide them guidance for that action.
Consider the example of a group called Not a Penny More, which used the Internet "as a springboard for a Federal spending-sanity campaign." Organizer G. Thomas Rush (thomasr@cpqhou.compaq.com) collected "individuals' pledges to pay down the Federal debt, if a Federal spending freeze is enacted and executed." Yes, he also asked readers to contact Washington, but you can bet that his pledge campaign was much catchier than a mere letter-writing campaign.
Of course, there's nothing wrong with a well-orchestrated campaign for letters. Amnesty International (reachable through hnaylor@igc.apc.org) doesn't just show the flag online and recruit members. It also puts out a letter-writing guide with wonderfully detailed instructions. Readers learn, for example, not to "discuss ideology or politics. Your message must be for the benefit of the victim and not a vehicle for your political opinions." The guide comes complete with sample letters and tips on how to address a King or Admiral.
From Palo Alto, California, Anne P. Mitchell (shedevil@vix.com), a family law attorney dealing in the rights of divorced fathers, uses the Internet to distribute a concise recruitment form with just the right questions. It asks, for example: "Which states' information interests you?" You fill out the form online, e-mail it back to her, and she adds you to her list.
Joining a mailing list can itself be a form of action. In many cases, you don't need special software to put together a small list—just check with your system administrator to make sure that you're using the system within bounds. Tori, the abortion rights crusader in the Midwest, says her operation involves "just me, via my private account," from which she reaches some 75 people in 25 states.
Are you actually trying to change public policy or are you out for recreational debating? Each day, the Internet and the commercial networks carry thousands of messages from people who are more interested in arguing than in acting. Their wisdom stays within cyberspace. If it reaches the real world, it's only through indirect means.
If you really want to influence policy, however, you'd better take time off from the debate online and work up strategies for dealing with newspapers and real live politicians and other officials.
Significantly, in the United States, freedom of the press exists more for newspapers and magazines than for private individuals. No law says the New York Times or your local newspaper must print your letter. Such interference would be blatantly unconstitutional. And that's how it should be, even if it means that many newspapers publish a range of opinions from A to Z.
Just the same, if you can get publicity in newspapers, that can help you on the Net. When I post items about TeleRead, I'm sometimes asked for the exact dates of print citations. A reverence for paper exists even in cyberspace.
When dealing with newspapers and magazines, keep in mind that some editors see any electronic media as a rival. Many journalists cling to their old roles as gatekeepers. When I wrote about TeleRead for the Washington Post, an editor refused to print my electronic address for readers to contact me for further information. But your own local paper may be more sensible about this. See whether you can't get an opinion article or letter to the editor published with your Internet address included.
Should you simultaneously post the same material to the Net? Maybe. It may be harder for a newspaper to ignore you if the editors know you have other avenues. I'll add a warning. Some editors may come back and say, "Well, if it's already on the Internet, why should we give you another forum?" If a problem arises, you can counter it this way: "Okay, I'll write another letter with another angle just for you. Besides, how many of your readers scan alt.activism regularly?" Should the editor still not go along, he or she may just be looking for an excuse to censor you—in which case, you can post your complaint on the Net.
Luckily, newspapers are growing more comfortable with the new technology. When the San Jose Mercury publishes an article, the newspaper may include a code that readers can key in to the Mercury Center area of American Online and receive further information. That way, for example, readers can get documents referenced in a news article. Sooner or later, such arrangements are bound to happen on the Internet itself.
Publicity, of course, is just a means to an end—the actual actions by policy makers. Here are some tips for lobbying civil servants and politicians at all levels of government:
Whatever action you take, keep in mind the value of the Internet for both educating yourself for intelligent debate and, above all, for helping society arrive at a consensus.
"A few subjects are hot, such as abortion or gay rights," Dave Hughes says, "and sometimes things are so bitter and polarized that even online, a consensus doesn't emerge. But on most subjects, my finding is that by sustaining the discussion, people who are not passionate about it one way or another tend to listen. It takes three to politic. Two can bargain and argue, but the third person is the one they are actually talking to."
If you want to reach the third person—and also strengthen your efforts offline—you owe it to yourself to try the Internet.
DON'T RISK YOUR JOB OR NET PRIVILEGES
SUMMING UP RUSH
A TRUE CITIZEN'S WEB: DON'T LET SOCKS MEOW FOR YOU
THE FUTURE FOR ELECTRONIC CITIZENS: FOUR PREDICTIONS