Coding Freedom: The Ethics and Aesthetics of Hacking

264 Pages·2012·1.87 MB·English

by  E. Gabriella Coleman

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Coleman, E. Gabriella, 1973–
Coding freedom : the ethics and aesthetics of hacking / E. Gabriella Coleman.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-691-14460-3 (hbk. : alk. paper)—ISBN 978-0-691-14461-0 (pbk. : alk. paper) ISBN 978-140-08452931—(e-Book) 1. Computer hackers.
2. Computer programmers. 3. Computer programming—Moral and ethical aspects. 4. Computer programming—Social aspects. 5. Intellectual freedom.
I. Title.
HD8039.D37C65 2012
174’.90051--dc232012031422
British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available
This book is distributed in the hope that it will be useful, but WITHOUT ANY WARRANTY; without even the implied warranty of
MERCHANTABILITY or FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE
We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.
—William Faulkner, “On Fear: The South in Labor”
Without models, it’s hard to work; without a context, difficult to evaluate;
without peers, nearly impossible to speak.
—Joanna Russ, How to Suppress Woman’s Writing
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
INTRODUCTION: A TALE OF TWO WORLDS
PART I: HISTORIES
CHAPTER 1: THE LIFE OF A FREE SOFTWARE HACKER
CHAPTER 2: A TALE OF TWO LEGAL REGIMES
PART II: CODES OF VALUE
CHAPTER 3: THE CRAFT AND CRAFTINESS OF HACKING
CHAPTER 4: TWO ETHICAL MOMENTS IN DEBIAN
PART III: THE POLITICS OF AVOWAL AND DISAVOWAL
CHAPTER 5: CODE IS SPEECH
CONCLUSION: THE CULTURAL CRITIQUE OF INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY LAW
EPILOGUE: HOW TO PROLIFERATE DISTINCTIONS, NOT DESTROY THEM
NOTES
REFERENCES
INDEX
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
T his project marks the culmination of a multiyear, multicity endeavor that
commenced in earnest during graduate school, found its first stable expression in a
dissertation, and has, over a decade later, fully realized itself with this book.
During this long period, over the various stages of this project, many people have left
their mark in so many countless ways. Their support, interventions, comments, and
presence have not only improved the quality of this work but also simply made it
possible. This book could not have been written without all of you, and for that I am
deeply grateful.
In 1996, at the time of my first exposure to Linux, I was unable to glean its
significance. I could not comprehend why a friend was so enthused to have received a
CD in the mail equipped with Slackware, a Linux distribution. To be frank, my friend’s
excitement about software was not only incomprehensible; it also was puzzling.
Thankfully about a year later, this person clued me in as to what makes this world
extraordinary, doing so initially via my interest at the time: intellectual property law. If
it were not for Patrick Crosby, who literally sat me down one day in 1997 to describe
the existence of a novel licensing agreement, the GNU General Public License (GPL), I
would have likely never embarked on the study of free software and eventually hackers.
I am thrilled he decided that something dear to him would be of interest to me. And it
was. I was floored to discover working alternatives to existing intellectual property
instruments. After months of spending hour after hour online, week after week, reading
about the flurry of exciting developments reported on Linux Weekly News, Kuro5hin,
and Slashdot, it became clear to me that much more than the law was compelling about
this world, and that I should turn this distractingly fascinating hobby into my
dissertation topic or run the risk of never finishing graduate school. Now I not only
know why Patrick was happy to have received the Slackware CD back in 1996—and I
found he was not alone, because many people have told me about the joy of discovering
Slackware—but also hope I can convey this passion for technology to others in the
pages of this book.
Many moons ago in graduate school at the University of Chicago when I proposed
switching projects, my advisers supported my heretical decision, although some warned
me that I would have trouble landing a job in an anthropology department (they were
right). Members of my dissertation committee have given invaluable insight and
support. My cochairs, Jean Comaroff and John Kelly, elongated my project in the sense
that they always asked me to think historically. Jean has also inspired me in so many
ways, then and now. She is everything a scholar should be, so I thank her for being such
a great mentor. Nadia Abu El-Haj encouraged me to examine the sociocultural
mechanisms by which technoscience can act as the basis for broader societal
transformation. I was extremely fortunate to have Gary Downey and Chris Kelty on
board. In 1999, I was inspired by a talk that Gary gave at the American Anthropological
Association meetings on the importance of positive critique, and I hope to have
contributed to such a project here.
Chris, a geek anthropologist extraordinaire, has added to this project in innumerable
ways. Because of his stellar work on free software, his comments have been
breathlessly on target, and more than any other person, he has pushed this project to
firmer, more coherent ground. His insistence on not only understanding the world but
also (re)shaping it is inspiring, and I hope that I can one day follow in his footsteps.
Although Patrice Riemens was not an official adviser, he nonetheless, like any hacker
would, shared freely. His advice, especially pertaining to hacker politics, was as
indispensable as the guidance from my official committee members.
Fieldwork, of course, is where the bulk of anthropological research occurs. For me,
most of that took place in San Francisco, with a short stint in the Netherlands, and
throughout copious time was spent online. While there were countless people who
made my fieldwork possible, I have to single out three who really went out on a limb
for me, over and over again: Seth Schoen, Praveen Sinha, and Zack Brown. I think each
one of you knows how much you have helped me start, proceed with, and finish this
project, and I am grateful from the bottom of my heart.
Many others have helped me understand with much greater depth what drives people
to write free and open-source software (F/OSS). Among those in the Bay Area, I would
like to especially thank Brian Behlendorf, Rick Moen, Karsten Self, Don Marti, Mike
Higashi, and Evan Prodromou. Also, all the folks at the Electronic Frontier Foundation
and Online Policy Group provided me with the invaluable opportunity of interning at
their respective organizations. Will Doherty, in particular, deserves a special nod (even
though he worked me so hard). Quan Yin also gave me the opportunity to volunteer at
its acupuncture clinic, and perhaps more than any other experience, this one kept
everything in place and perspective. My Bay Area roommates, Linda Graham and Nikki
Ford, supplied me with an endless stream of support.
My time in the Netherlands, in October 2002, was short but made a lasting
impression. The Hippies from Hell were welcoming and helpful. They also organize the
best darn hacker conferences in the world, and a big thanks to them (and all the other
volunteers) for putting in so much effort to ensure that others can have an amazing time.
Niels Hatzmann was a gracious host, great biking partner, and now good friend.
A bulk of my work was with Debian and its developers. I can’t thank these
developers enough. Words can’t capture how much I admire the ways in which you
have managed to not only produce an operating system (OS) but also a stunningly
vibrant online community—a word I rarely use for the Internet, and yet one that
absolutely pertains to the case of Debian. I have thoroughly enjoyed my time with
everyone as well, whether in person; on Internet Relay Chat (IRC), where countless
folks have helped me answer questions and get through the many stages of writing and
editing; and most especially, at the various Debconfs I have attended from Edinburgh to
Porto Alegre. And after helping to organize Debconf10 in New York City, I was able to
fully experience the unmistakable pride that swells when a collective works to conjure
something into being. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to have participated and
look forward to attending many more in future times.
Though there are many developers who have taken the time to share their thoughts
about Debian and other F/OSS projects, Benjamin “mako” Hill, in particular, has been a
close friend and collaborator. I wish him well as he embarks on his own academic
career and look forward to future collaborations. Martin Kraft, Clint Adams, Paul Wise,
“vagrant,” Joey Hess, Erinn Clark, and Daniel Khan Gilmore have also been great
friends as well as teachers over this journey.
I returned to the University of Chicago in fall 2003 to write my dissertation, only to
discover that really I had no idea how to proceed. Thankfully there were many others to
teach me the ropes. An astounding range of people read different parts of my
dissertation and gave me helpful feedback. There are a few who went beyond the call of
duty, though. Alex “rex” Golub, who taught me more about liberalism than anyone else,
really pushed me to think more systematically than I was used to at the time. Alex
Choby has always been a steadfast long-distance interlocutor and also went for the extra
mile to offer comments on my work on cleverness. James Rizzo was a fantastic editor
with equally fantastic comments. Joe Hankins, Joe Feinberg, Jeff Martin, Andrea
Muehlebach, Jessica Greenberg, Yarimar Bonilla, and Chris Walker also gave me
copious feedback on this project. One of the reasons I have come to respect the
University of Chicago is because of its student-run graduate workshops. I was known to
make my rounds at various workshops, and the following students gave me great
feedback throughout the last few years: Anya Bernsetin, Stephen Scott, Mike Cepek,
Andrew Dilts. Alex Mawyer, Mihir Pandya, Anwen Tormey, Jason McGraw, Diana
Bocarejo, and Tom Asher (and others who I don’t know personally or may have
forgotten). Many other professors in and out of the workshop system also read a few of
the chapters and offered feedback, especially Tanya Luhrmann and Patchen Markell,
who provided excellent advice on various chapters. Susan Gal, Manuela Carneiro Da
Cunha, Michael Silverstein, Jessica Cattelinno, Joe Masco, and Judith Farquar at
different points also read portions and provided helpful suggestions.
The dissertation formed the bulk of what became this book, which was written in
diverse places and weather climates, from scorching summers in San Juan, Puerto Rico,
to one of the coldest North American cities, Edmonton, Canada. While a postdoctoral
fellow at the Center for Cultural Analysis at Rutgers University, I received useful
comments from Meredith McGill, Michael Warner, Greg Lastowka, Paula McDowell,
Ellen Goodman, Daniel Fisher, and especially Lisa Gitelman, and was also afforded a
lively context from which to learn about intellectual property law from the angle of
book history. At the University of Alberta, Rob Wilson, Kathleen Lowery, and my
office mate Jeff Kochan also read various sections and chapters of the book. I finished a
good chunk of the book thanks to the support (and amazing peace and quiet) provided
by the Institute for Advanced Study. I would like to especially thank Didier Fassin and
Tanya Erzen, whose insights have made their way into this book.
There are a few people who also have given important feedback on portions of this
book, presented at conferences or other venues: Jelena Karanovic, Kathy Mancuso,
Andrew Leonard, Nanodust, Martin Langhoff, Bill Sterner, Margot Browning, Jonas
Smedegaard, Danny O’Brien, Cory Doctorow, Graham Jones, Thomas, Malaby, Alan
Toner, Samir Chopra, Scott Dexter, Jonah Bossewitch, Marc Perlman, and Patrick
Davison. Quinn Norton, whose expansive creativity and deep insight into all things
geek aided me in toning down the academese, supplied great nuggets of wisdom and
insight. Mary Murrell was kind enough to read the entire manuscript, and provide
substantive insight and feedback on my arguments and the book’s structure. I am so
fortunate that I was able to teach material related to this topic and, especially, to such
engaged students (and offer a hat tip to Parker Higgins, Max Salzberg, and Kevin
Gotkin, in particular). Everyone in my “home away from home,” #techfed, provided me
with essential support throughout this process—humor—and many also offered their
suggestions. Even if IRC has been known to draw my attention from writing, I could
not have finished this book without it.
Two of my closest friends are everywhere in this book. Genevieve Lakier, the
brightest woman I know, has read much of this book and pushed my thinking forward.
Karl Fogel, an open-source developer and open access advocate, is not only featured in
the pages of this book but read through many sections and chapters as well to make sure
that my language, and thus arguments, were more precise.
For my first academic teaching position, I had the amazing fortune of landing at the
Department of Media, Culture, and Communication at New York University—fortunate
for the collegiality, commitment to excellence, and resources provided to junior faculty.
I would like to thank my two chairs, Ted Magder and Marita Sturken, who went to bat
for me many times, making New York University such a hospitable home from which
to work. My New York University colleague Michael Ralph was one of the most
engaging sounding boards, providing invaluable feedback especially on the question of
cunning and craft among hackers. My research assistants, James Hodges, Parker
Higgins, and especially Matthew Powers, helped enormously with making this book
happen.
Various organizations provided me with generous funding, which has been essential
for carrying out this research and writing. I graciously acknowledge support from the
National Science Foundation Grant for a dissertation research grant, the Social Science
Research Council for a research grant for the study of nonprofits, and the Woodrow
Wilson National Fellowship Foundation’s Charlotte W. Newcombe Doctoral
Dissertation Fellowship for the study of religious and ethical values.
Parts of this book have also been published elsewhere, and have benefited
tremendously from the anonymous reviewers and journal editors. The last section in
chapter 1 was published as “Hacking in Person: The Ritual Character of Conferences
and the Distillation of a Lifeworld,” Anthropological Quarterly 83 (1): 47–72. An
earlier version of chapter 5 was published as “Code Is Speech: Legal Tinkering,
Expertise, and Protest among Free and Open-Source Software Developers,” Cultural
Anthropology 24 (3): 420–54. Sections of the conclusion can be found in “The Political
Agnosticism of Free and Open-Source Software and the Inadvertent Politics of
Contrast,” Anthropology Quarterly 77 (3): 507–19.
I am extraordinarily fortunate that my book landed with Princeton University Press
and Fred Appel. Fred has been such a lively editor and adviser, and I have so enjoyed
our many chats over coffee and drinks, and look forward to many more in the future. To
the anonymous reviewers: thank you for the kindness, generosity, and finely tuned
comments that have been essential to completing this book.
One person has had the opportunity to see me through every last step of
brainstorming, drafting, writing, rewriting, and complaining: Micah Anderson. For
better and worse, he has experienced the public and private face of this project,
graciously showering the pages with perceptive, lively, and especially humorous
comments and edits on every last page, all the while providing steadfast support as we
tromped from city to city under conditions that were for so many years often
challenging. My gratitude is beyond words.
Finally, my family and adopted family have been an important source of strength.
The Andersons were so patient and supportive as I hopped around cities all over North
America, unable to see them as I spent so much time with my mother. My father has
always placed great value on education, sacrificing many years of retirement so I could
get a college education. In 2004, my sister made a significant sacrifice, moving in with
my mother to take care of her, so I could finish my dissertation. From 2002–2010, my
mother suffered a cruel illness that robbed her of her mind and soul. During those eight
years, I traveled back and forth from wherever I was living to San Juan in order to be by
her side. It was not always easy to live in a state of in-betweenness, in between cities, in
between life and death, but I would not have had it any other way. Even though my
mother is the one person close to me who will never be able to read any of this book,
she made it possible in so many ways; I dedicate this book to my mother, Vera.