NET NEUTRALITY, the Appian way

What one of Rome's early leaders can teach us about a fair Internet

by Steve Dunlop

When Verizon issued a press release in Morse code, warning that the FCC’s move toward “net neutrality” was imposing 1930’s rules on the Internet, I winced.  And not just because I’m old enough to know a little Morse code. 

Clever media relations gambit?  Absolutely.   Spot-on analogy?  Hardly.  

To find a comparison that’s truly relevant to today’s digital land of opportunity, we need to delve further into history than the advent of radio.  We need to turn the clock back.  Way back. 

Appius Claudius Caecus, dicatator of ancient Rome.  Not exactly an Internet pioneer, but closer to the mark than you think. 

Appius Claudius Caecus, dicatator of ancient Rome.  Not exactly an Internet pioneer, but closer to the mark than you think. 

Appius Claudius Caecus (340 BC – 273 BC) was one of the critical figures in the building of ancient Rome.   He is best remembered not just for constructing the Appian Way - the early highway that connected Rome to the rest of the world - but also the first of hundreds of aqueducts that brought free-flowing, clean water to the city. 

As foundational as those aqueducts were to the growth of Rome, so the Internet is to the growth of our Information Age.  But Rome would never have been built if its leaders told their citizens to go find their own water. 

It’s therefore fair to ask: what sense would Appius have made of Verizon’s claim today?  How would he feel about creating special “fast lanes” for access to an indispensable public good?

We can only deduce.  But my guess is this proto-technocrat would have gone to bat for net neutrality, big time. 

Appius was a dictator.  But he had a strong individualist streak.   “Every man is the architect of his own fortune,” he is quoted as saying.  He was also, one could argue, an early democrat - with a small d - in the sense of enabling the little guy.   He extended voting privileges to those in rural areas who did not own their own land, and he even allowed the sons of freed slaves to serve in the Roman Senate - something quite radical at the time.  

To be sure, the wealthy in ancient Rome had water pipes going directly into their homes.  But their water didn’t arrive any faster, cleaner, or in greater quantities than anyone else’s.  All of Rome drew from the same sources.   Thanks to public fountains, baths, and drinking basins, everyone had more or less equal access to this essential public commodity.

“Usurping” the Internet

Appius went blind as an old man, and his writings have long been lost.  But we still know the name of one of his major works.  Tellingly, it’s titled De Usurpationibus (“Of Usurpations”).  

A surviving section of the Aqua Appia, an aqueduct built by Appius Claudius Caecus, east of Rome.  Circa 312 BC.

A surviving section of the Aqua Appia, an aqueduct built by Appius Claudius Caecus, east of Rome.  Circa 312 BC.

It’s fair to surmise that in the net neutrality debate, this architect of Rome would not be inclined to side with the owners of the aqueducts.  On the contrary.  He would be cheering on the free market entrepreneurs and the content providers - the real architects of our Information Age. 

They don’t want to see the best of the Internet usurped.   They don’t want a well-positioned few to pay for premium access to the information superhighway, while the rest of us are forced onto the service road. 

I got into radio as a teenager.  I grew up with those heavy handed, archaic rules about access that Verizon - a descendant of the old phone company monopoly, by the way - once benefited from, but now mocks.  The Communications Act of 1934 made a point of noting that the airwaves were a “scarce public resource,” and therefore required broadcasters to act in the “public interest, convenience and necessity.” 

Opponents of net neutrality argue that the Internet can hardly be described as scarce, that technology has made that notion obsolete.  

But imagine a handful of large private interests cornering the market on the best water, and it will dawn on you how hollow that argument rings. 

That's especially true in what we still tell our children is the land of opportunity.   We shouldn't need an ancient Roman dictator to remind us. 

MORE THAN GREAT JOURNALISM: Why Bob Simon will be missed

by Steve Dunlop

As news broke of Bob Simon's untimely death in a car accident on Manhattan's West Side, the superlatives started ricocheting around the Twittersphere, all of them richly deserved.   Great journalist.  Fearless reporter.  Winner of 27 Emmys.  A gentleman. 

Bob Simon, veteran 60 Minutes correspondent, 1941-2015.   Image by John Paul Filo/CBS News.

Bob Simon, veteran 60 Minutes correspondent, 1941-2015.   Image by John Paul Filo/CBS News.

The word "gentleman" hit home with me because it described Simon's persona precisely.  And it made me reflect on how TV news today identifies and nurtures its top prospects.   Recent events have made it clear that we are not turning out enough Bob Simons. 

Electronic journalism is stereotyped for thriving on the pretty face, male or female.  An entire industry of agents and talent scouts exists on the periphery of the industry, looking for that perfect mix of the "Q" score, developed by Long Island market researcher Jack Landis in 1963. 

"Q" stands for quotient - in this case, the quotient between the "familiarity" and "likeability" of a brand.   According to this formula, a product can be highly familiar but not very likeable - or, conversely, highly likeable but not widely recognized.   And both will score roughly the same "Q."

Bob Simon entered network television in the 1960's, just a few years before the Q score began to migrate from selling dishwashers into evaluating newspeople.  One wonders if someone as intelligent and courtly as Simon would have made the cut today. 

Simon was raised in the Bronx during the 1940's.  He was the only child of Jewish parents.   His German father worked in a bank, but it was his Russian mother, an accountant, who introduced him to libraries "even before I could read," he told the Los Angeles Times in 2003. 

Simon did not yearn to be a TV star.  He yearned for knowledge, which would later drive his journalist's curiosity.   He was accepted to Brandeis University and majored, not in communications or television, but in history.   He graduated Phi Beta Kappa.  He went on to become a Fulbright Scholar, a Woodrow Wilson scholar, and an officer in the American Foreign Service.  

But the ivory tower was not what he wanted.  On joining CBS in 1967, Simon plunged right into covering campus unrest and inner city riots.  From there his assignments only became more perilous.  By talent and temperament, he could have been one of "Murrow's boys," although he was born too late to have actually been among them. 

I will leave it to those who knew Bob Simon better than I did to chronicle his journalistic accomplishments.   Suffice it to say that for the electronic version of the Fourth Estate, my biggest worry is its reliance on a system that is not nurturing new Bob Simons.  His unique brand of courtliness and professionalism doesn't often find its way onto the screen anymore.   Barely does it find its way into society. 

 

BRIAN WILLIAMS: Holding back the tide

by Doug Spero

The Brian Williams episode is another example why NBC stands for "Nothing But Confusion." After a week of filling the sandbags to hold off a man-made media crisis, the network finally decided to admit (indirectly) to the guilt of its lead anchor, and punish him in front of millions of confused and troubled viewers.  As a former NBC news employee and a former news director of two ABC affiliated stations, I believe this was a very bad management move.

NBC is basically saying "our guy did wrong....we will punish him.....and then all will be OK."  Really?  In six months, the general viewing public will largely forget who Mr. Williams is.  And if his replacement does a good job, then what does the network do at that point? 

Do they put a tainted anchor back on the air, after someone else has restored credibility and perhaps built a new following?  There must be applause in the halls of CBS and ABC, and David Muir especially must feel as though he has died and gone to news heaven.  Talk about hitting "triple sevens" in the course of just a few months after taking over from Diane Sawyer.

Or is this simply an exit strategy by the network executives, to wait and see if anything else washes ashore on the streets of New Orleans?  If there are any more dead bodies floating around in Wiliams' closet of war stories, he may never be back. 

In the meantime, execs at the network, who must have been camping out in boardrooms for days (like Brian was camped-out at the Ritz Carlton), must be dizzy with overnight research, consultants, and senior managers - whose opinions, as insiders know, change like the tide going in and out of the Mississippi Delta.

How many bad decisions will be made during the next six months?  At least one has already been made - by taking the middle ground.  NBC either should have gotten Williams back on the air with a fresh apology, with teeth, sometime this week - or, they should have shown him the door. 

Hey, Celebrity Apprentice is down to only two.  Perhaps Williams will be available next season?  That may be a good place to build on his skills?

This was not just a sad two weeks for NBC, but for broadcast journalism.  It should teach all students of this trusted art a lesson.   It should also be a reminder for those now in the profession to think before they speak, because the reputation they save may be their own.

Surely, the alleged sins of Mr. Williams have been committed by others over the years.  After all, who can conclusively prove or disprove some of these far-fetched stories?  The primary difference is that Williams got caught at his own game. 

I remember one of NBC's great news directors paraphrasing Shakespeare:  "You live by the sword, you die by the sword," he said.  In this case, Brian Williams fell on the sword. 

What a sad commentary for a once proud industry.  I hope Murrow, Cronkite, Brinkley, Huntley, Newman, and the other founding fathers aren't looking down at this mess from that big newsroom in the sky.   If they are, they are shaking their heads in disgust.

 

EBOLA PANIC ECHOES EARLY DAYS OF AIDS

It took society a while to realize you can't acquire HIV by being in the same room with a patient.   When will we recognize the factual, not imaginary, risks of Ebola? 

Media commentary by Steve Dunlop

Our newsroom was doubling down on the impending epidemic.   Here was a disease that had already rampaged through Africa, and was now threatening to wipe out large chunks of Western civilization.  Large cities like New York were becoming hotbeds of fear.  

When the opportunity arose to interview someone who had contracted the mysterious illness, we wondered how much personal risk was necessary to get the story.  The camera crew thought about refusing the assignment.   They donned protective gear.   They wore surgical masks and covered their microphones with gauze.  They made it a point to stand far away from the patient at all times.   

in New Jersey, parents held panicked meetings in school cafeterias.   Why should we allow our children to share drinking fountains or get sneezed on by someone who may have been exposed to one of these patients, they asked?

I reported on this calamitous scene.  But please don’t be afraid to shake hands with me.  The year was 1983, and the disease was AIDS.  

I have been struck over the last couple of days by how closely the news cycle on Ebola is tracking that of the early days of the AIDS epidemic.   And I’m not alone.  

“This is panic,” said Dr. Paul A. Offit, chief of the infectious diseases division and director of the Vaccine Education Center at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, told The New York Times.  Offit recalls that in the early days of AIDS, “people were afraid to walk into a grocery store and pick up a piece of fruit because they didn’t know who’d touched it.”   

Panic, says Dr. Offit, “doesn’t follow the epidemiology of the disease.   This isn’t flu or smallpox.  It’s not spread by droplet transmission.  As long as nobody kissed the person on the plane, they’re safe.”  

Washington Post health reporter Lenny Bernstein was in Liberia for 12 days covering the epidemic.   He took common-sense precautions while there, and he has been home now, Ebola-free, since late last month.   

“The virus is not airborne, like SARS,” Bernstein says. “You have to come in contact with an infected person’s bodily fluids — blood, vomit, feces, urine, sweat, saliva — to get it and that has to occur when he or she is showing the symptoms of infection: high fever, vomiting, diarrhea, bright red eyes. This is why Liberians and health workers, not journalists, have been the virus’s victims.”

None of this is meant to downplay the very real risks of this deadly virus.   But the lessons from AIDS 30 years ago should remind us that in the US, at least, Ebola’s most virulent component - and the least controllable - is the panic that results when fear displaces facts.