Sure enough, after 1948 local communities shifted their technique for preserving segregation. Rather than covenants, they used architecture. Communities were designed to “break the flow” of residents from one to another. Highways without easy crossings were placed between communities. Railroad tracks were used to divide. A thousand tiny inconveniences of architecture and zoning replaced the express preferences of covenants. Nothing formally prohibited integration, but informally, much did[62] .
Local governments thus did something very much like what the federal government did in Rust and tried to do in New York: No longer able to effect segregation directly, they used zoning laws — geographical architecture, or real-space code — to effect it indirectly. They built their communities and designed their streets to make it hard for integration to occur, and the tiny inconveniences of zoning regulations succeeded in keeping communities separate.
What is most significant is that now, even more than with Rust, it becomes very difficult to see the link between the regulation and its consequence. The continuing segregation of these communities is described as the product of “choice.” Individuals choose to live in one neighborhood rather than another. In a strict sense, that is correct, but their choices are made in the face of costs that the state has imposed. It is easier to remain segregated, so people choose to do that. But it is only easier because government has moved mountains to make it that way.
Here the government is regulating indirectly by using the structures of real-space code to effect its ends, but this regulation, again, is not seen as regulation. Here the government gets an effect at no political cost. It gets the benefit of what would clearly be an illegal and controversial regulation without even having to admit any regulation exists.
In all three cases, the government is commandeering the power of another modality — another structure of constraint — to effect its own ends[63]. This in itself is not necessarily improper. There are plenty of examples that anyone would consider proper. A requirement that streets be well lit, for instance, is a regulation designed to reduce crime, and no one would think that regulation improper. Nor does all such regulation hide its pedigree. Think again about speed bumps –they are examples of indirect regulation. Like a winding road, they use the code of streets to keep down the speed of a car. But no one is fooled about the source of this regulation; no one believes the bumps are accidental.
Thus, the point is not against indirect regulation generally. The point is instead about transparency. The state has no right to hide its agenda. In a constitutional democracy its regulations should be public. And thus, one issue raised by the practice of indirect regulation is the general issue of publicity. Should the state be permitted to use nontransparent means when transparent means are available?
Where This Leads
After I published an essay in the (then existing) Industry Standard arguing that “code is law,[64]” the following letter was sent to the editor:
Typical for a Harvard Law Professor. . . . Lessig misses the entire forest while dancing among the trees. . . . While his riff on West Coast Code (from Silicon Valley Programmers) vs. East Coast Code (from government lawyers) is very cleverly crafted, it completely avoids the real difference between the two.
The good professor seems to apply the word “regulation” equally to the efforts of private enterprises to control the behavior of their customers through market mechanisms and the efforts of government agencies to control the behavior of all citizens through force of law.
So long as the creators and purveyors of West Coast Code (no matter how selfish, monopolistic, demonic or incompetent they may be) do not carry guns and badges, I will choose them over the enforcers of East Coast Code any time[65].
Whether or not I’ve missed the “real difference” between code and law, the genius in this letter is that its author clearly sees the real similarity. The author (the president of an Internet-related business) understands that “private enterprises” try to “control the behavior of their customers”, and he writes that they use “market mechanisms” to achieve that control. (Technically, I was speaking about architectures to achieve that effect, but never mind. Whether markets or architectures, the point is the same.) He therefore sees that there is “regulation” beyond law. He just has his favorite between the two (corporate executive that he is).
What this author sees is what we all must see to understand how cyberspace is regulated and to see how law might regulate cyberspace. I’ve argued in this chapter that government has a range of tools that it uses to regulate, and cyberspace expands that range. Indirectly, by regulating code writing, the government can achieve regulatory ends, often without suffering the political consequences that the same ends, pursued directly, would yield.
We should worry about this. We should worry about a regime that makes invisible regulation easier; we should worry about a regime that makes it easier to regulate. We should worry about the first because invisibility makes it hard to resist bad regulation; we should worry about the second because we don’t yet — as I argue in Part III — have a sense of the values put at risk by the increasing scope of efficient regulation.
That’s a lot of worries, no doubt. But before we go further with these worries, we could consider in more detail the contexts within which these worries become real.
Chapter8. The Limits In Open Code
I’ve told a story about how regulation works, and about the increasing regulability of the Internet that we should expect. These are, as I described, changes in the architecture of the Net that will better enable government’s control by making behavior more easily monitored — or at least more traceable. These changes will emerge even if government does nothing. They are the by-product of changes made to enable e-commerce. But they will be cemented if (or when) the government recognizes just how it could make the network its tool.
That was Part I. In this part, I’ve focused upon a different regulability — the kind of regulation that is effected through the architectures of the space within which one lives. As I argued in Chapter 5, there’s nothing new about this modality of regulation: Governments have used architecture to regulate behavior forever. But what is new is its significance. As life moves onto the Net, more of life will be regulated through the self-conscious design of the space within which life happens. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. If there were a code-based way to stop drunk drivers, I’d be all for it. But neither is this pervasive code-based regulation benign. Due to the manner in which it functions, regulation by code can interfere with the ordinary democratic process by which we hold
