Scalia’s theory is basically Katz (reasonable expectation of privacy) plus trespass. For Scalia, the conduct in Jones – law enforcement attaching a GPS transmitter to Jones’s car, and then tracking its movements – is a search because “The Government physically occupied [...]]]> The Supreme Court handed down its decision in U.S. v. Jones yesterday, and the blogosphere is abuzz about the case. (See Margot Kaminski, Paul Ohm, Howard Wasserman, Tom Goldstein, and the terrifyingly prolific Orin Kerr.) The verdict was a clean sweep – 9-0 for Jones – but the case produced three opinions, including a duel between Justices Antonin Scalia and Samuel Alito. Thus far, most privacy and constitutional law thinkers favor Alito’s position. That’s incorrect: Justice Scalia’s opinion is far more privacy protective. Here’s why:

Scalia’s theory is basically Katz (reasonable expectation of privacy) plus trespass. For Scalia, the conduct in Jones – law enforcement attaching a GPS transmitter to Jones’s car, and then tracking its movements – is a search because “The Government physically occupied private property for the purpose of obtaining information.” But, that’s not quite precise enough: the key is that the government must “physically intrud[e] on a constitutionally protected area.” (emphasis mine) The tricky part, naturally, is deciding what counts as such an area. Scalia disposes of Oliver (the open fields case) by emphasizing that a field “is not one of those protected areas enumerated in the Fourth Amendment.” Katz is still around for “Situations involving merely the transmission of electronic signals without trespass.”

Scalia thus wants to create magic places: spots where any governmental intrusion, with any physicality, is a search. The home is certainly such a place (see Kyllo) – Jane Yakowitz pointed out to me that this has to explain why the Court took cert in Florida v. Jardines, when we already have Caballes and Place on the books. Determining which places are magic is hard. It’s here that Scalia’s originalism does its work: Scalia wants to apply the understanding and expectations from 1791 to sort places into protected/magic and unprotected.

Alito thinks this is rubbish: his footnote 3 openly makes fun of Scalia’s contention that we can analogize the Jones facts to a constable hiding in a coach (“this would have required either a gigantic coach, a very tiny constable, or both”). His method would instead simply apply the Katz reasonable expectation of privacy test, which he rightly points out is more consonant with the Court’s jurisprudence since its rejection of the physical trespass test set out in Olmstead. This approach looks analytically cleaner, although Alito forthrightly acknowledges the circularity inherent in the reasonable expectations test – expectations derive from the law, in addition to driving it. And, of course, there is the one-way ratchet worry: the government can reduce our reasonable expectations of privacy by abusing our privacy.

Alito, though, proceeds to mess up a previously tidy picture by inventing two new considerations for Fourth Amendment analysis: the duration of the information-gathering (such as GPS tracking), and the severity of the crime. Scalia rightly smacks Alito around for this, as he fails to ground this analysis in anything remotely resembling precedent. At best, this is judicial activism, and at worst, it’s an invitation for a wave of new cases where the government tests boundaries and magnifies the threat posed by those surveilled.

I like Scalia’s approach much better. It sets out clearly that there are some spaces that get heightened privacy protection: we don’t have to engage in the weighing involved in the reasonable expectations test, so it’s cheaper, and there won’t be instances where judges decide that in fact society is willing to permit certain observations in the home, for example. Scalia’s approach is a firewall: it offers a redoubt for privacy. And, it maintains the viability of Katz in other instances. Alito’s two additional considerations point towards the worry that makes me prefer Scalia. Imagine observation of the interior of a home – say, using tiny drones – that would clearly constitute a search under the magic places theory. If the observation is fairly short, or if the crime involved is serious (drug smuggling, terrorism, child pornography), Alito’s analysis would find that there isn’t a search, and hence no need for a warrant. Scalia’s approach always forces the cops to get a warrant. That reassures me.

There are two issues that neither Alito nor Scalia deals with, although to her credit Justice Sonia Sotomayor tackles both: pervasive surveillance, and cloud computing. Pervasive surveillance involves the government’s increasing capabilities to deploy low-cost observation technology – everything from traffic cameras to facial recognition technology – and to store, index, and analyze the resulting torrent of data. Cloud computing involves the shift from maintaining information on devices we control to storing it on devices controlled by Google or Apple or Amazon. The former presents the mosaic theory that the D.C. Circuit endorsed in its opinion in Jones. The latter invites us to re-visit the third party doctrine, whereby one loses any reasonable expectation of privacy if one turns over data to someone else (unless that someone is, say, a priest or lawyer). One failing of the two major opinions in Jones is that they fail to provide any guide for how the Court thinks about these issues – other than to hope mightily that Congress will take care of it for them.

I like Scalia’s hybrid with its magic places. What our privacy rights are when we venture outside the castle walls is a topic the court reserves for another day.

Cross-posted at Info/Law.

Being there are not a whole lot of anthropologists of my ilk ( as I like to joke, I am an “arm chair anthropologist” who sits in front of her computer to study the high tech digerati of the west), I often get asked how or why I came to the study hackers, many people assuming that I had some hacker [...]]]> I would like to thank Danielle Citron for the invitation to pen some thoughts here on Concurring Opinions, and letting an anthropologist enter this legal arena. For my first post, I thought I would ease in slowly and give a taste of my work on hackers, geeks, and digital activism along with some of the themes and issues I will likely explore over the month.

Being there are not a whole lot of anthropologists of my ilk ( as I like to joke, I am an “arm chair anthropologist” who sits in front of her computer to study the high tech digerati of the west), I often get asked how or why I came to the study hackers, many people assuming that I had some hacker relative in my life or was myself a budding young hacker, both of which were not the case. Fitting to this blog, I got to hackers via the law. In 1997, when my friend—an avid free software developer—found out I had a keen but personal interest in patents and access to medicine, he sat me down to tell be about this legal concept called the “copyleft.” It was one of those moments that I still remember so vividly as I was nothing but floored, astonished, excited, and puzzled, especially when I learned of the full depth and extent of  this legal alternative that had been dreamed up, not by lawyers, but by geeks and hackers.

Over the ensuing year, which was my first year at graduate school, I delved so often and deeply into the world of free software, it was clear that I had to change topics or else I ran the risk of never finishing my degree. Alhough I routinely encountered skepticism—and still do—I felt like I struck anthropological gold: there was too much to explore, prod, and examine so at the time, I took a one hundred and eighty degree u-turn and have never returned.

My work on free software spans various topics, from the prevalence of humor among hackers to the multi-year legal battles over the right to write and release source code in the face of new regulations such as the Digital Millenium Copyright Act. Most broadly, I use free software to examine the cultural life of liberalism. By liberalism, I do not mean what may first come to mind: a political party that in Europe is usually associated with politicians who champion free market solutions, or in the United States, a near synonym for the Democratic party; nor is it just an identity that follows from being a proud, card-carrying member of the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union) or the Electronic Frontier Foundation, although these certainly can be markers.  I take liberalism to embrace historical and present day moral and political commitments and sensibilities that should be familiar to most readers of this blog: protecting property and civil liberties, promoting individual autonomy and tolerance, securing a free press, ruling through limited government and universal law, and preserving a commitment to equal opportunity and meritocracy. These principles, which vary over time and place, are realized institutionally and culturally in various locations at different times, perhaps the most famous of these being the institutions of higher education, market policies set by transnational institutions, and the press, but are also at play on the Internet and with computer hackers, such as with those who develop free software, who have an accentuated commitment to free speech and make free speech claims to question what many see as not only the use but abuse of copyrights and patents. In one post I hope to examine and explore what it might mean to study liberalism from the vantage point of culture and hackers.

As I moved forward with my work on hackers it become increasingly clear that there was not only so much about this world that lay untouched and untapped (I think we know more about Papua New Guinea than hackers) but there are also many misperceptions and miconceptions shrouding our understanding of hackers due to existing literature and fantastical media representations. Part of the problem is that differences are often whitewashed away in favor of coming up with some simple and sanitized story about some unitary group of hackers. It is true that hackers can be grasped by their similarities: they tend to value a set of liberal principles: freedom, privacy, and access; they tend to adore computers—the glue that binds them together; they are trained in specialized and esoteric technical arts, primarily programming, system administration, security research, and hardware hacking; some gain unauthorized access to technologies, though the degree of illegality greatly varies; foremost, hacking, in its different forms and dimensions, embody an aesthetic where craft and craftiness tightly converge and thus tend to value playfulness, pranking,  and cleverness and will often perform their wit through source code or humor or even both: funny code.

Hackers, however, evince considerable diversity and are notoriously sectarian, constantly debating the meaning of the words hack, hacker, and hacking. I myself have been caught in the line of fire when hackers launch these accusations (“No, Biella, hackers are ‘breakers,’ not those who make ‘cool LED throwies in a hackerspace;” ‘No Biella, please get there is a distinction between ‘hackers and crackers’..”), so I will also be writing a post on this topic.

Most of my work on free software is completed, tucked and hidden away in academic journal articles read by perhaps a dozen or less people every few years, if even that many, and forthcoming in full-bodied form in a Creative Commons licensed book with Princeton University Press in the fall of 2012. But I am have become much more known for that which I once thought of as my niche, boutique side project: Anonymous. And it was so because for a a long period of time it existed as an esoteric, marginal sort of phenomenon: quite interesting, especially the activist manifestations (as Anonymous can be used for pure trolling) but over the last year exploded proliferated, and mushroomed in ways that make it very hard to pin down. In contrast to researching free software, which was relatively easy, working on Anonymous has tested my resolve so many times; they are truly difficult to study, for all sorts of reasons, some of which I will explore in a couple of posts I plan on dedicating to them as well.

As an initial descriptive matter, it’s pretty clear that women and men are often treated differently in online discussion. (Quick, name a case in which someone was harassed online. Was the person you thought about a woman? I thought so.)

A few months ago, John Scalzi noted that:

In my experience, talking to women bloggers and writers, they are quite likely to get abusive comments and e-mail, and receive more of it not only than what I get personally (which isn’t difficult) but more than what men bloggers and writers typically get. I think bloggers who focus on certain subjects [...]]]> A familiar theme comes up frequently in internet discussions: Women who complain about online harassment are just missing the joke.

As an initial descriptive matter, it’s pretty clear that women and men are often treated differently in online discussion. (Quick, name a case in which someone was harassed online. Was the person you thought about a woman? I thought so.)

A few months ago, John Scalzi noted that:

In my experience, talking to women bloggers and writers, they are quite likely to get abusive comments and e-mail, and receive more of it not only than what I get personally (which isn’t difficult) but more than what men bloggers and writers typically get. I think bloggers who focus on certain subjects (politics, sexuality, etc) will get more abusive responses than ones who write primarily on other topics, but even in those fields, women seem more of a target for abusive people than the men are. And even women writing on non-controversial topics get smacked with this crap. I know knitting bloggers who have some amazingly hateful comments directed at them. They’re blogging about knitting, for Christ’s sake. . .

I can contrast this with how people approach me on similar topics. When I post photos of processed cheese, I don’t get abused about how bad it is and how bad I am for posting about it. People don’t abuse me over my weight, even when I talk explicitly about it. I go away from my family for weeks at a time and never get crap about what a bad father that makes me, even though I have always been the stay-at-home parent. Now, it’s true in every case that if I did get crap, I would deal with it harshly, either by going after the commenter or by simply malleting their jackassery into oblivion. But the point is I don’t have to. I’m a man and I largely get a pass on weight, on parenting and (apparently) on exhibition and ingestion of processed cheese products. Or at the very least if someone thinks I’m a bad person for any of these, they keep it to themselves. They do the same for any number of other topics they might feel free to lecture or abuse women over.

It’s this sort of thing that reminds me that the Internet is not the same experience for me as it is for some of my women friends. (Emphasis added.)

That bears repeating: The Internet is not the same experience for men as it is for women. (No wonder women are numerically underrepresented in prominent internet discussion spaces.)

Why is the internet a different place for men than for women? There are doubtless a number of contributing causes, but one of the major factors is that the internet is largely a male-constructed discursive space, and internet discussion norms often build on assumptions of male privilege.

Men build discursive spaces and discursive norms based on their own experience. And for instance, in a male-built discursive space, a threat of sexual violence may be viewed by male participants as an obvious joke. After all, the vast majority of men will never experience sexual violence in their lifetime. (Fewer than 4% of men will be sexually assaulted.) And so within the context of a male discussion on a World of Warcraft forum, for instance, it may seem entirely innocuous to use ideas of sexual violence to express one’s views on the game, or to use “rape” as a verb to describe one’s gameplay skills.

Women as a group have a vastly different experience with the idea of sexual violence. One in six women will be a victim of sexual assault during her lifetime. (Yes, some men are also sexual assault victims. But the numbers are overwhelmingly female — about 90% of sexual assault victims are women.) Rape is not an abstract idea or an obvious joke. For thousands of women, it is an immediate and extremely painful reality.

At one point during class I was talking about male privilege, and one student asked me to explain. He noted that he is a man and he doesn’t feel particularly privileged. In response, I noted my own privilege: “When I leave the building late at night, I don’t give a second thought to my safety as I walk to my car. If it’s ten at night, if it’s dark, I just assume that I’ll be fine. But for many women, there is a constant thought process: Do I find someone to walk me to my car? Is it safe at this hour? What are my options?” And then I asked, “who has gone through that train of thought recently?,” and every woman in the class raised her hand. And then they told stories: About avoiding parts of town; about setting their schedule in certain ways; about making sure that they had someone to walk them out; about being on their guard, all the time. The need to guard against the possibility of sexual assault is simply not part of most men’s everyday thought process, while it is a major part of many women’s everyday lived experience.

And the fact that as a man I don’t have to spend mental energy thinking about protecting myself from sexual assault is itself part of male privilege. One part of male privilege is that you never have to notice the ways in which you benefit from male privilege.

The same goes for statements about violence in general. In a male-dominated discursive space, it may be viewed as normal to make aggressive, threatening statements. However, men’s and women’s experiences with violence are also vastly different. One in four women in the United States has been a victim of domestic violence. Suddenly, the joke about wanting to punch somebody else isn’t so funny.

Women face these kinds of microaggressions on a daily basis, in all sorts of environments ranging from the workplace to the public sphere. And they seem to be especially prevalent (surprise) in discursive spaces built by and dominated by men. (It’s true that not all women struggle to express themselves in male-built discursive spaces, and some women develop real facility for the kind of bullying that sometimes passes for dialogue on the internet. But, as Danielle’s work makes clear, many don’t.)

And then when someone (almost always female) stands up against the male-constructed discursive norms in which threats of violence and sexual violence can be characterized as merely a joke, she is attacked for being oversensitive. These attacks are another instance of denying of the reality of women’s experiences. Male commenters discount women’s experiences as irrelevant if when those experiences don’t conform to male discussion norms. Feminist blogs have a term for this: Mansplaining, where a male interlocutor explains to a female writer that she ought to ignore her own experience and bow before his superior wisdom.

This discounting of women’s experience echoes equally problematic discussions that happen in the political arena, where male writers incredibly feel comfortable opining that sexual harassment probably doesn’t even exist, it’s all just something made up by overreacting women. For instance, here’s a direct quote from prominent male conservative writer John Derbyshire: “Is there anyone who thinks sexual harassment is a real thing? Is there anyone who doesn’t know it’s all a lawyers’ ramp, like ‘racial discrimination’? You pay a girl a compliment nowadays, she runs off and gets lawyered up.” Yes, Derbyshire is arguing that sexual harassment does not exist. Of course, this is a topic about which he has a vanishingly small likelihood of having any personal experience, since sexual harassment is overwhelmingly targeted at women. But I’ve never personally seen a zebra; therefore, they probably don’t exist.

Male privilege on the internet — or in law, or in society at large — isn’t going away any time soon. But let’s call it out, and let’s label it for what it is. When male interlocutors tell a female writer that she is overreacting and just isn’t getting the joke, they are speaking from a starting place of male privilege. They are assuming that casual threats of violence are something which can easily be shrugged off, and are ignoring the vast difference between lived experiences of men and women in America. And they are denying the reality of something which, in all likelihood, they don’t even understand.

Which Scalzi explains well in a follow-up post:

Underlying all of that is the basic set of advantages I get unearned by being what I am, i.e., a white male. I became aware of this fact only over time, by having this advantage set pointed out to me repeatedly by those who are not what I am. Which is a bad deal for those folks, to be sure — the highest life crisis of everyone else in the world is not, in fact, making the White Male understand what he gets unearned.

I suspect in my case it would have been even more work for the rest of the world if I hadn’t had the experience of growing up poor, which meant that every time I saw or read someone who’d never been poor expound obliviously on what was really going on with poor people, I had to fight back the urge to beat them to death with a hammer. The experience of having to deal with people wealthsplaining poverty, and then trying to get them to listen to someone who had spent actual time in poverty, made it possible for me to more easily conceptualize the idea there were lots of subjects about which I had great potential to show my ass simply by opening my mouth.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. So sit back. Calm down. Pay attention. Take notes. Learn. And stop denying the reality of women’s experience.

In my post, I recommend that the ABA accreditation process should model itself after the SEC and move toward an exclusively sunlight model. David Zaring, perhaps surprisingly, favors regulation, though he admits that it makes legal academia “cozy.” Christine Hurt comes out against accreditation-driven tenure.  Other folks are posting shortly, so head over to the ‘Glom and join the discussion.

As many, I joined the Access to Knowledge (A2K) movement from a specific perspective. For me, it was advocacy for commons-based innovation and culture, and struggles against legal and policy mechanisms that threaten their potential. Underlying this involvement was a wider perspective: the idea that information and communication technology (ICT) are at the root of new human capabilities, and that the a proper legal, policy [...]]]> Most chapters in the Access to Knowledge in the age of intellectual property book have been initially drafted several years ago.  As we are holding from today a 3-days on-line symposium to celebrate the publication of the book, the ideas covered in the book prove to be not just resilient, but at the heart of a difficult but exciting democratic renaissance.

As many, I joined the Access to Knowledge (A2K) movement from a specific perspective. For me, it was advocacy for commons-based innovation and culture, and struggles against legal and policy mechanisms that threaten their potential. Underlying this involvement was a wider perspective: the idea that information and communication technology (ICT) are at the root of new human capabilities, and that the a proper legal, policy and cultural environment will decide how well we seize this opportunity. As I write these lines, the link between ICT, freedom of expression, democratic empowerment and human development is hot news. And with these news come new questions and challenges.

When my book Cause commune: l’information entre bien commun et propriété was published, I did not invest much energy to get it translated in English, as the aim of the book was to reformulate American knowledge commons-thinking for European, emerging and developing country readers. But one day, I received an email from a Tunisian translator, Abdelouadoud El Omrani, who offered to produce a voluntary translation of the book in Arabic. It ended being published as a paper book by the Qatari National Centre for Culture, Heritage and the Arts, disseminated on the Internet under a Creative Commons license. Let’s be frank, I am not sure that many people read this book in Tunisia (where many likely readers read also French) or in Egypt. That’s partly because the distribution of books (and even ideas) is still very segmented in the Arabic world, and partly because potential readers had more urgent things to do. However, the publication brought me to visit a few Arabic-speaking countries, and to meet Internet users, knowledge sharing advocates, lawyers and writers from the Arab world. I witnessed their courage, their inventive use of poetry and fiction (when they explained it to me, as I don’t understand any Arabic), whether in face of authoritarian regimes for instance in Tunisia or Egypt or in face of the totalitarian imposition of religious prescriptions on individuals, for instance in Saudi Arabia¹.

I was thus not surprised to see a growing Internet-based public expression in Arab countries (as well as in Iran). But none of this had prepared me to see this expression lead to expression and action in the streets, that then developed its own logic and power. I should have known better. The recent democratic uprisings are testimony to the fact that the capabilities built in information-mediated activities can exert influence well beyond their direct reach, and even survive when the Internet and other digital communication channels are being attacked by all available means. They give evidence of the massive presence of smart, self-reflecting, collectively minded individuals. Don’t mistake me, Internet-initiated mobilization will not necessarily be for aims with which each of us will agree. Democracy is not just for what we like. Furthermore, even democratic policy and action has to respect the limits of fundamental human rights as expressed in the UHDR, for instance, because, without such safeguards, it could sometimes damage them beyond repair.

Has this anything to do with information and knowledge commons? If may not be evident today, but it did, and it will.

It did, because the resilience of information and universal communication technology owes a lot to the fact that they are the product of a knowledge commons, even though this was largely before the expression “knowledge commons” was forged. Even in a country such as Egypt, where the domination of proprietary software is strong, the foundations of the Internet as a common infrastructure apply, and it is only through its remaining scarce resources (DNS, centrally-provided individual connectivity) that it can be shut off, even though not totally. Less known is the fact that personal computers and many specialized ICT applicances run free software in some essential layers or at least are not open to outside control. It is a lesson for each of us to remember. Never let anything like “trusted” (aka treacherous) computing, compulsory trusted identities, fingerprinted IP addresses or the like install a different situation.

Even more important is what information and knowledge commons can do for the future. Democracy is not just about removing dictators or moving out of the totalitarian enforcement of religion or beliefs. It is also about finding out how to build useful things, about finding how to organize our societies for the good of all, about making possible for all to build new capabilities, about enabling new works for our enjoyment to be created, new knowledge about nature to be built, and new ways to coexist with its complexity to be explored. And to do all of this, information and knowledge commons are a necessary condition.

[1] Such imposition can very well coexist (in daily life and families) with secular authoritarian regimes, as exemplified at various degrees by Algeria and Egypt itself. There is no guarantee that it can not also exist within newly established democratic regimes, but there is hope that the general exchange of ideas lowers its pressure.

Here is a description of the symposium on the book and the list of participants:

Why is our health care system so fragmented in the care it gives patients? Why is there little coordination amongst the many doctors who treat individual [...]]]> I am pleased to announce that in a collaboration between the Petrie-Flom Center for Health Law Policy, Biotechnology, and Bioethics, and Concurring Opinions, Frank Pasquale and I are organizing an online symposium on this blog (beginning on Monday) on the new book The Fragmentation of U.S. Health Care System: Causes and Solutions.  This book, which grew out of a conference the Petrie-Flom center hosted in 2008 was edited by Einer Elhauge and featurs a stellar list of contributors from law, economics, medicine, management, and other disciplines.

Here is a description of the symposium on the book and the list of participants:

Why is our health care system so fragmented in the care it gives patients? Why is there little coordination amongst the many doctors who treat individual patients, who often even lack access to a common set of medical records? Why is fragmentation a problem even within a single hospital, where errors or miscommunications often seem to result from poor coordination amongst the myriad of professionals treating any one individual patient? Why is health care fragmented both over time, so that too little is spent on preventive care, and across patients, so that resources are often misallocated to the patients who need it least? This book approaches these broad questions with a highly interdisciplinary approach, including chapters by the nation’s leading professors in law, medicine, economics, health, business, and political science.

Professor Elhauge and the contributors provide a multifaceted approach to these multi-dimensional problems. The divergent perspectives and approaches of the contributors provide the reader with an understanding of the intricacies of the system and proposed solutions. The articles address possible causes of fragmentation, including laws that mandate separate payments for each provider, restrict hospitals or others from controlling or rewarding the set of providers treating a patient to assure coordinated care, and provide affirmative disincentives for coordinating care by paying more for uncoordinated care that requires more services. The authors examine and propose reforms that could make our health care system less fragmented, more efficient, and more effective.

This symposium examines the themes and claims of the book, and in particular examines their relevance in the post health care reform world.

The participants will be

John Jacobi

Anup Malani

Abigail Moncrieff

Gwendolyn Roberts Majette

Ani Satz

Richard Saver

Elizabeth Weeks

Vickie J. Williams

Check in Monday for the launch of the symposium.

I have been fascinated on two levels by the recent blogospheric discussion of an Israeli Supreme [...]]]> [Preface: As anyone who has ever taught material relating to rape in class well knows, this is among the most sensitive of subjects to discuss. Add to this the way in which typed words lose the inflections and other subtleties of spoken language, and any post on rape threatens to come off as insensitive by accident. With that in mind I have tried to write this post in as sensitive a way as I can, but I also ask the reader to bear with me if their first instinct is to take something I have said the wrong way.  Instead please give it the most charitable of readings]

I have been fascinated on two levels by the recent blogospheric discussion of an Israeli Supreme Court case holding that an individual could be prosecuted for rape when he engaged in sex with a woman that was not the product of sex or coercion because he deceived her as to his religion/ethnicity (he was an Arab not a Jew) and his relationship intentions (to ‘hookup’ instead of looking for a serious relationship leading to marriage).

On the first level, I was intrigued as to why the case got so much interest (and the holding largely hostility) in the blogosphere. I think there are many reasons, but I want to put out two (related but distinct) provocative hypotheses for reaction from readers: (1) The case taps in to some long-suppressed doubts held by some reader on whether non-forced or non-coerced sex counts as rape. (2) The case disturbs because it implies that men can be raped during sex that is not forced or otherwise coerced, and while there are contexts in which many are prepared to believe in male rape (e.g., the prison context) they harbor gender-asymmetrical views of rape  outside those contexts.

One level down, into the actual holding of the case, one thing I find fascinating about this area of law (rape by deception) is that it requires constructing a concept of “essential facts” for which deception vitiates consent. To try and think about this, consider the following cases:

1. Ahmed deceives Beatrice about his religion and ethnicity claiming that he was an orthodox Jew when in fact he was a Muslim Arab. (The most recent Israeli case)

2. Jon convinces Daphne he is his identical twin, Jack, whom Daphne is dating, and Daphne sleeps with him inebriated after a long night of partying.  A real case along these lines in Canada had facts like these.

3. Dil deceives Fergus into believing Dil is a woman when they engage in anal sex.  In fact, Dil is actually a man (inspired by this film).

4. Bree is an M to F transgender person who now passes as a woman. She leads David to believe she was biologically born as a woman when they have sex.

5. Fernando is asked by Nick just before sex if Fernando is HIV positive. Fernando lies and says he was tested a month ago and was negative, when in fact he knows he is positive. They engage in oral sex. (Imagine no HIV transmission occurs. It is a separate question whether Fernando is guilty or should be guilty of a different offense, the question here is whether Nick has ben raped).)

6. Michelle convinces Robert she has had a hysterectomy before they engage in unprotected sex. In fact it is a lie. They do not conceive a child. (For discussion of cases where a child does come into being from these kind of conception by deception cases, see notes 37 and 38 of this paper of mine)

7. Sanjay deceives Mary into believe he is a neurosurgeon, when in fact he is a garbage collector. (Apparently there is Israeli case law treating this as rape by deception too).

8. George deceives Hillary into believing he is a card-carrying member of the Democratic party. In fact he is a card-carrying Republican.

My starting intuition is that 8 is clearly not rape, and 2 clearly is. If the test for consent being insufficient is “would the individual have engaged in sex with this person but for the deception,” then all these cases including 8 ought to be rape. That 8 is not rape suggests that cannot be the test, or I would have to revise my opinion on 8. If that is not the test, what is?  I don’t have an answer…but I am curious what others think both about the cases and about a differentiating principle to explain their views.

Lawrence Baxter on hedge fund tax breaks. Kim Krawiec on “rogue traders.” Lawrence Baxter on BP.

It looks like Jennifer S. Taub has also joined the blog. Taub is an invaluable guide to the financial crisis, and I really look forward to more posts like this. Krawiec’s coverage of the saga of Kerviel (both at Pareto Commons and the Faculty Lounge) will also be an informative read for anyone intrigued by books like Adam Haslett’s Union Atlantic.

NYU Law School’s Brennan Center for Justice recently launched Just Books, a site that contains book reviews, author interviews, book excerpts, and roundtable conversations with writers and readers.

I think this is a great idea, as there is dwindling attention for books (especially academic books) in mainstream media publications. This is why at Concurring Opinions we launched the book review project.

Check out Just Books — the content so far looks great.

For quite some time, I’ve been relying on the blog Pogo Was Right to keep up to date on privacy news.

A lot of people aren’t aware of this blog, so I thought I’d give a shout out to it.  Pogo Was Right is really excellent — the best privacy blog in my opinion.  If you’re interested in privacy issues, be sure to read it daily.

Also, when students ask where they can get ideas for papers about privacy law issues, I recommend it because it presents a great overview of the latest privacy issues as well as an extensive archive.

My dean, Fred Lawrence of George Washington University Law School, has started a new blog called 20th & H.  He writes:

20th and H was conceived as a place for me, as dean, to share with the GW Law community occasional thoughts about the Law School, legal education, and the legal profession, and to talk with you about some of the perspectives and insights I’ve gained through my work on campus and on the road.

Great idea!  Welcome to the blogosphere.

Fred has a recent post about laptops in the classroom:

For many of our students, the laptop has become almost an extension of their selves.  It’s how they take notes, research, write, and communicate; like it or not, those of us [...]]]>

My dean, Fred Lawrence of George Washington University Law School, has started a new blog called 20th & H.  He writes:

20th and H was conceived as a place for me, as dean, to share with the GW Law community occasional thoughts about the Law School, legal education, and the legal profession, and to talk with you about some of the perspectives and insights I’ve gained through my work on campus and on the road.

Great idea!  Welcome to the blogosphere.

Fred has a recent post about laptops in the classroom:

For many of our students, the laptop has become almost an extension of their selves.  It’s how they take notes, research, write, and communicate; like it or not, those of us who were students in a pre-computer age simply can’t roll back the clock to a time when faculty members enjoyed the sight of rows of rapt faces and suffered at worse some inattentive doodling, note passing and an occasional nodding head.

Read more over at 20th & H.

The story began when a pseudonymous commenter stopped by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch site and left a vulgar comment in the reader commentary section. The site admin deleted the comment, and the commenter re-posted it. At this point, the site admin decided to do some basic sleuthing. He traced the commenter’s IP address to a local school, and then he alerted the school (which turned out to be the commenter’s employer) that the vulgar comment had originated from its IP address. The school’s sysadmin was able to trace it from there, and the commenter ultimately lost [...]]]> What happens when a commenter’s privacy expectations collide with a would-be tattletale? This recent news story raises that question, with some interesting facts.

The story began when a pseudonymous commenter stopped by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch site and left a vulgar comment in the reader commentary section. The site admin deleted the comment, and the commenter re-posted it. At this point, the site admin decided to do some basic sleuthing. He traced the commenter’s IP address to a local school, and then he alerted the school (which turned out to be the commenter’s employer) that the vulgar comment had originated from its IP address. The school’s sysadmin was able to trace it from there, and the commenter ultimately lost his job.

I don’t know that any legal privacy rights have been violated here. (Dan?) But this does seem like overreaching by the site admin. Penalties like comment deletion or even banning are within the norms of site administration. Ratting someone out to their boss? I’m not so sure.

But what about Autoadmit? Those commenters also thought that their obnoxious comments would be anonymous; and they were also surprised by the way that the veil was lifted. Do they also enjoy a right to privacy in their attacks? The difference, I think, is in the nature of their comment. Autoadmit comments were attacks, targeted at specific women. The Post-Dispatch comment was obnoxious, but not targeted enough that anyone sued over it.

And in addition, autoadmit commenters’ identities were not simply revealed by an administrator’s whim. Instead, plaintiffs had to go through a legal process to obtain that information.

Are those distinctions that matter? Well, if a person’s comments have harmed others to the extent that they are willing to bring suit — as in the Autoadmit case — then perhaps they deserve scrutiny. (Especially given the gendered nature of those harms, as Danielle Citron’s research makes clear.) However, a site admin actively ratting out potty-mouthed commenters to their employers seems to fall on the other side of the line.

Which brings us to the subject I’m sure you’re all waiting for: What does this mean for me?

Well, for one thing, be careful with your comments.

But I can offer a very modest safe space. I can’t change other people’s actions, but I will say this: If you are a commenter here and you begin to ramble or fight or drop into potty humor, I may tell you to cut it out. I may delete your comment. I may even ban you altogether, especially if you show a persistent pattern of problem comments. But I will not send your stupid comments to your employer. They’re a nuisance, but they’re not worth anyone’s job. (One exception — if your comments indicate that you are planning or in the act of committing a crime or action which might endanger other people’s safety, I reserve the right to tell the authorities.)

As CNET reports, “Independent bloggers who fail to disclose paid reviews or freebies can face up to $11,000 in fines from the Federal Trade Commission, according to revisions to [...]]]> As I argue in my essay Individual Branding the web presents important and amazing new possibilities for individuals to earn money and much of that potential will flow from one’s online reputation. In short, as one blogs or shares information in another form, one becomes a trusted source and can start extract money from those activities. I argue that those acts have the seeds of the possible destruction of Benkler’s world of sharing. Today the FTC has targeted a practice that arguably could increase the reliability of social network endorsements but will also upset many people.

As CNET reports, “Independent bloggers who fail to disclose paid reviews or freebies can face up to $11,000 in fines from the Federal Trade Commission, according to revisions to the agency’s “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising” published Monday.” The FTC has not updated the Guidelines since 1980. The press release is here. The full text of the Guides are here (pdf). It is 81 pages, and I have not read it as yet but one thing people should know is that the effective date is December 1, 2009.

From the release it appears that the guides take am expansive view of what presents a moment to disclose “The revised Guides specify that while decisions will be reached on a case-by-case basis, the post of a blogger who receives cash or in-kind payment to review a product is considered an endorsement. Thus, bloggers who make an endorsement must disclose the material connections they share with the seller of the product or service.” CNET suggests that celebrities and “mommy bloggers” could be in trouble under the new rules. (Here is my prediction on the riposte to come but that I don’t think is accurate: “The FTC hates moms. In a down economy and with more and more people needing new ways to earn, the FTC actions are a direct attack on the importance of moms.” Now back to our regularly scheduled blogging.)

There are a ton of oddly connected things here. First, I just blogged about CITP and its FedThread project. That project would allow one to track this sort of moment rather quickly. Second, I was just at the Works In Progress Intellectual Property Conference at Seton Hall (which was yet again an excellent conference and for which everyone at Seton Hall deserves many thanks) where Zahr Stauffer presented a fascinating paper called Novels for Hire: Branded Entertainment, Copyright and the Law that I think will have something to say about these changes. As one blog notes, the practice of giving journalists freebies is common. Zahr’s paper shows how advertising and novels have had a rather curious interaction over the years. I think the paper will help understand the way writing and advertising have co-existed in either good or bad ways at different times with the shift to blogging fitting in as part of that history. The paper should be available soon so keep an eye out for it.

Electronics and other big ticket items seem to be where the concerns are. I look forward to finding out whether book, film, and music reviewers have to tell readers whether they received a review copy of the book. In general if one only says nice things about a review subject, one might receive more books etc. I think that non-professional blogs and other online information sources such as rating systems and FaceBook will allow people to find out whether they should buy a product (i.e., one might use a personal network to ask whether a product is good). That practice could undercut the quiet payment model.

Here is a possible way to understand this turn of events. 1) Secret endorsements die out and full disclosure of what has been given is the norm. 2) Small bloggers and big agencies are no longer able to seem credible as reviewers. 3) If people want independent reviews, they must pay magazines or other pay sources who can afford to buy the review items and avoid the taint of being given free stuff. 4) The public does not want to pay and instead reads the blog reviews with the disclosures and augments the research with social networks and user ratings which are more difficult to fake and possibly more reliable. 5) Yet again paid, professional independent news and reviews seems to be squeezed out.

CyberSLAPP’s site contains a spirited defense of a right of anonymous criticism which reads, in part:

Why is anonymous speech important?

There are a wide variety of reasons why people choose to speak anonymously. Many use anonymity to make criticisms that are difficult to state openly to their [...]]]> As Dan rightly notes, the recent court order unmasking the anonymous author of the “Skanks in NYC” blog raises serious privacy concerns. He elaborates on those concerns in his post, arguing that the court used too low of a standard, that the lawsuit may have been frivolous, and that anonymity needs greater protection. Dan links to CyberSLAPP, an EFF project which combats abusive lawsuits that seek to unmask anonymous critics of corporations or public figures.

CyberSLAPP’s site contains a spirited defense of a right of anonymous criticism which reads, in part:

Why is anonymous speech important?

There are a wide variety of reasons why people choose to speak anonymously. Many use anonymity to make criticisms that are difficult to state openly to their boss, for example, or the principal of their children’s school. The Internet has become a place where persons who might otherwise be stigmatized or embarrassed can gather and share information and support victims of violence, cancer patients, AIDS sufferers, child abuse and spousal abuse survivors, for example. They use newsgroups, Web sites, chat rooms, message boards, and other services to share sensitive and personal information anonymously without fear of embarassment or harm. Some police departments run phone services that allow anonymous reporting of crimes; it is only a matter of time before such services are available on the Internet. Anonymity also allows “whistleblowers” reporting on government or company abuses to bring important safety issues to light without fear of stigma or retaliation. And human rights workers and citizens of repressive regimes around the world who want to share information or just tell their stories frequently depend on staying anonymous sometimes for their very lives.

Is anonymous speech a right?

Yes. Anonymous speech is presumptively protected by the First Amendment to the Constitution. Anonymous pamphleteering played an important role for the Founding Fathers, including James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and John Jay, whose Federalist Papers were first published anonymously. And the Supreme Court has consistently backed up that tradition, ruling, for example, that an Ohio law requiring authors to put their names on campaign literature was a violation of the First Amendment. Indeed, the Supreme Court has ruled that protecting anonymous speech has the same purpose as the First Amendment itself: to “protect unpopular individuals from retaliation and their ideas from suppression.”

Of course, any sensible person would be opposed to silencing today’s James Madisons or Alexander Hamiltons. Is this really the correct analogy here, though? Is Skanks in NYC like the Federalist Papers?

Because, of course, the flip side of anonymity is that it can open the door to uniquely problematic personal attacks. This problem is set out in Danielle’s article Cyber Civil Rights, where she examines cases where anonymity was used as a shield to allow malicious online mobs to harass innocent victims, who tend to be disproportionately female. (And of course, the privacy sword cuts both ways here as well — it is a rather egregious invasion of privacy for a normal person to have their private life attacked on a blog.)

The Skanks in NYC blog has been taken down, but the news reports make clear that the site was not dedicated to political discourse, human rights advocacy, or whistleblowing about problematic corporate actions. Rather, it was a series of personal attacks on the model Liskula Cohen, calling her a whore, a ho, an old hag, the “skankiest in NYC” and a “psychotic, lying, whoring … skank.” Cohen — who coincidentally was recently the victim of a freak, career-ending real-life attack by a stranger — was targeted in personal, particularly gendered ways by the Skanks in NYC site. (After all, there is no male analogue to words like slut, skank, or whore.)

These attacks affected her personally, and had negative effects on her career as well, as reported in various news accounts.

Cohen, who described herself as a “serial monogamist” and has a “zero tolerance drug policy,” said the words were defamatory and harmful to her career. Prospective clients would question her about the blog and what she was doing in the photos, she says.

“Finding new clients this year has not been a walk in the park,” she said. “I’ve worked very long in this industry.”

Frankly, Skanks in NYC doesn’t look like a set of Publius-esque words that deserves protection for anonymity. It does not match any of CyberSLAPP’s examples of helpful anonymity. Instead, it looks exactly like the many cases of anonymous and gendered personal attacks, like Autoadmit and Kathy Sierra attacks, which Danielle rightly labels destructive: Online attacks, often sexually framed, which targeted the personal well-being and careers of their disproportionately female victims.

I understand that the concern here is for the precedent. Google turned over the anonymous blogger’s identity in this case; who’s to say that they won’t do it in the case of Publius or a corporate whistleblower? But in this case, the court order is based to a large degree on the problematic nature of the blog itself — that it simply called Cohen a whore and a skank, and so was focused primarily on the alleged defamation, rather than any other substantive comment.

So it seems to me that the court got it right. I agree with Dan on the general principle that anonymity can be very beneficial and should be protected in many cases; I certainly don’t want to encourage the unmasking of any Publii. But there are exceptions to that standard, such as in the case of personal attacks like Autoadmit or Kathy Sierra, or Skanks in NYC. In those cases, I tend to fall back on a different maxim: Sunlight is the best disinfectant.

Therefore, when Bridget Crawford, another of the main posters on feministlawprofessors.com, asked if I wanted to be named on their list of “self-identified feminist law professors,” I was thrilled to be asked. The question was raised, however: What does the label “feminist law professor” mean? If I was going to self-identify as a “feminist law professor,” I wanted to be sure I fit within the definition.

The reality is that those who know me [...]]]> I have long been a fan of the blog “Feministlawprofessors.com.” The blog does a stellar job of raising and discussing various issues, the content of the blog is sound and reasoned, and Ann Bartow, the founder of the website, has graciously cross-posted some of my posts on prostitution over the past couple years.

Therefore, when Bridget Crawford, another of the main posters on feministlawprofessors.com, asked if I wanted to be named on their list of “self-identified feminist law professors,” I was thrilled to be asked. The question was raised, however: What does the label “feminist law professor” mean? If I was going to self-identify as a “feminist law professor,” I wanted to be sure I fit within the definition.

The reality is that those who know me well might not immediately fit me within the category of “feminist law professor,” if we consider only the older stereotypes about what a feminist “looks like.” To wit, I have never taught “feminist legal theory” (though I could and would, happily), I am Catholic, I am fairly conservative, I have never been a member of NOW, I have been a member of the Federalist Society, I am not offended by some things that are clearly “gendered” (such as men opening doors for women), and I have never burned a bra.

That said, I support equality for all, and I engage in activities intended to support this goal. Indeed, one of the many things that troubles me about the legal profession is the fact that women make up roughly 50% of all law students but only about 19% of all law firm partners and less than 20% of all Supreme Court justices.

But does supporting equality for all make me a feminist law professor? If so, wouldn’t – in theory – most law professors be “feminist law professors?”

I realize that this blog post should be many paragraphs longer, to address the issues raised by my questions above. But even with a blog post five times the length of this one, I doubt I could do the questions justice. So I will end simply by observing that, while I am happy to be labeled a “feminist law professor,” it is interesting to me that the phrase is not easily defined.

My hope is to blog about at least the following topics while I am here: 1. Prostitution 2. Other People Who Have My Exact Name (Elizabeth A. Nowicki) 3. Corporate Governance, Shareholder Activism, and Boards of Directors 4. Delaware Jurists 5. New Orleans 6. Women in Legal Education

Note, however, that you should not expect me to blog with the speed and volume of someone like Blog Emperor Paul Caron, because my long-harbored reservations about the potential impact of blogging make me a [...]]]> Many thanks to Dan and all the folks here at Concurring Opinions for again inviting me to guest blog. I cut my teeth guest blogging here and at TruthontheMarket.com (where I am still a regular guest blogger) three years ago, and it is nice to be asked back. Thank you.

My hope is to blog about at least the following topics while I am here:
1. Prostitution
2. Other People Who Have My Exact Name (Elizabeth A. Nowicki)
3. Corporate Governance, Shareholder Activism, and Boards of Directors
4. Delaware Jurists
5. New Orleans
6. Women in Legal Education

Note, however, that you should not expect me to blog with the speed and volume of someone like Blog Emperor Paul Caron, because my long-harbored reservations about the potential impact of blogging make me a bit of a slow poster. Since my first blogging days, I have worried about whether I could accurately convey in a blog post things like tenor, nuance, and jest, and my concern about this and other blogging issues (such as typos, grammar mistakes, being impolitic, failing to link to others, etc.) tends to slow me down. Given that the readership of this blog is huge, I am cautious about posting something that I have not vetted, edited, and re-written.

Similarly, I remember when another academic blogger posted on his blog about not securing a particular consulting project due to a position he had articulated on his blog. I do a bit of consulting, expert witness, and media work, so I try to be mindful about not committing on a blog to positions I might want to reconsider if I were asked to be an expert witness or to comment for the media. The notion that I might articulate a view on this blog that I might want to disavow 15 years from now makes me squeamish.

Moreover, as a general matter, I try to avoid even the potential for offending large constituencies in the legal or academic communities with something I have posted on a legal blog. For example, for several days, I have stewed over what, if anything, to post about the former Villanova Law School Dean and the prostitution situation. I caught the “news” about the prostitution situation right when it broke, so I could have beaten Caron for the title of “First Mainstream Legal Academic Blogger To Post On The Topic.” But my worry about posting something that might offend my friends at Villanova or members of the AALS Section on Women in Legal Education, of which I am currently the Chair, or colleagues in my religious community kept me standing down, gnashing my teeth, while Caron blogged the news. To be sure, I have blogged before about prostitution, multiple times, so it would be natural for me to chime in, but the notion that I could, with a single post, offend a huge range of people gives me pause. The internet should be used with care.

That said, the fastest post I ever drafted and posted was my post on the Supreme Court’s opinion in Stoneridge Investment Partners v. Scientific-Atlanta. I read the Supreme Court’s opinion and drafted my post in the two-hour window I had between classes on the day the opinion was issued, and I did not have time to re-read my post and labor over editing because I had to rush off to teach my second class. Yet the post has been one of my most well-received posts, and people seem to think it is at least decent. So I suppose I need to revisit whether my reservations about blogging, which prevent me from becoming a prolific poster, are actually based in fact. (Then again, the fact that Heidi Hurd’s sarcastic e-mails have led to likely unappreciated press solidifies my belief that releasing words across the internet is dangerous business indeed.)

Regardless, I look forward to posting here.