PL 2630, Brazil's so-called Fake News Bill, caused enormous uproar in recent days. Rightly so. Even so, it ended up being shelved. Until when? No one knows. Just deferred. Even after reading the bill and various takes on it, I still have doubts about where I stand. Probably somewhere between Ronaldo Lemos's comment on Twitter, Wilson Gomes's pragmatism in his recent column, and Madeleine Lacsko's critique of the moral panic that took over the debate. My point here is not to debate the bill itself, but the way it was defended by part of the progressive movement on social media.
Among the commentators I mentioned, I understand there to be a consensus on two factors: first, that there was a genuine intention to combat real and complex problems through the bill; but, second, that the bill was not only insufficient for that purpose but could actually generate new problems. Some will argue that bad regulation is better than no regulation; others that the bill needs more debate to be improved. Either way, if the bill is so questionable and flawed — beyond the herd instinct that jumped aboard the moral panic of "it's for the children" — what could justify defending such a solution tooth and nail, one that would resolve little or nothing?
I think the answer begins with understanding that, if the bill was ever about Fake News, "today it is a bill about many interests," as Wilson Gomes clarified. Interests that may allow, for example, the "logical leap" identified by Madeleine Lacsko — the assumption that passing the bill would prevent or reduce the school shooting epidemic that has been growing in Brazil since the early 2000s. This discussion reminds me of a well-known excerpt from a lecture by psychoanalytic philosopher Slavoj Žižek, where he comments on green consumerism and the illusion spread by its practitioners.
Žižek explains how the relationship between consumerism and awareness of its harms has changed radically: if in the last century, awareness led people to reject consumerism in favor of new paradigms — often sustained by legitimate progressive causes such as the environment, inequality, hunger, and LGBTQIA+ rights — today, large corporations offer us products that allow us to maintain consumerism in all its unsustainability and maleficence without bearing the guilt that comes from being a conscious consumer. In his example, we would buy a coffee at Starbucks — even though it is more expensive — in exchange for the guarantee that the company would direct part of its profits toward various humanitarian causes. In this way, you do not need to change your lifestyle, fight for real causes, or question power structures. You simply continue consuming as before, but now from "conscious" brands — the famous woke brands.
In my view, the fervent defense of the bill we saw on social media closely resembles the behavior Žižek describes: when confronted with a problem far too large to solve on my own, I cling to obsessive and ineffective behaviors that nonetheless give me relief from the guilt I feel at my individual inability to solve the problem. Though we usually think of guilt as generated by the consequences of our actions, studies show that the mere sense of responsibility over a negative outcome is sufficient to generate the feeling (Antonetti & Baines, 2015). In the case of the Fake News Bill — and all the discussions it came to encompass: regulation of social networks, Big Tech, combating violence and hate — the feeling of guilt arises from the combination of an inability to individually do anything effective with a sense of responsibility for the problem. From this point, dogmatically supporting the bill becomes not only a relief valve for that guilt, but a way to release it without stepping outside one's "comfort zone" — without questioning the paradigms and structures that, if altered, could bring genuine change and solutions to the problems being identified.
It is astonishing to me to see a discussion about combating Big Tech dominance and its harmful practices in social networks without a single flag raised for Free Software (not even open source!). The structures that govern platforms like Facebook, Google, and Twitter today — delimiting our relations with each other and with these companies — are nothing other than the result of the advance of a paradigm of closed, proprietary, secretive software. Opening the code is only part of what the Free Software movement advocates: it is an entire new relationship between developers and users of all types of software. But this solution would be demanding and personally laborious. Defending Google regulation is simple and lets me keep using Google — but no one wants to actually switch to alternatives like DuckDuckGo. Accusing WhatsApp of massive data collection, security failures, and scam vulnerabilities is easy; getting yourself and your contacts to switch to Signal takes effort.
The proposition of any proprietary software has always been alienation in exchange for convenience. Something like: "Don't worry, remain ignorant about the technology that now governs every aspect of your life — we will develop it to be as intuitive and easy to use as possible." The Free Software proposition is more demanding; it requires learning and engagement, and in many cases the use of tools in perpetual development. But in exchange, it offers liberation through awareness and participation. Free Software does not merely propose a question of code openness or licensing — it is an ethical and political stance about the relationship we form with the software and technologies we develop and use.
The current state of the internet, the domination of it by corporations, Big Tech, and the ".com" world — all closed and proprietary forms — did not happen by accident or overnight. It was a process that extended over years, one that society as a whole chose to board, seduced by the glitter of the technologies sold to us. Believing that a bill can solve the complexity and robustness of the current problems with social networks and the Big Tech companies behind them seems to serve a less noble purpose after all: to absolve the guilt of a problem I have never done anything effective to solve, without requiring me to engage with any real action to fight it.
Still, none of this is to deny that the problem the bill sought to address is real. It is not to say everything is fine and nothing should be done. It is to point out the gaps in how we approach the situation. Nor is it an opening for more moralism, accusing defenders of the bill of anything beyond being another consequence of complex processes that dominate the present. A problem that makes me think another piece may be necessary to close the subject — this time bringing in Mark Fisher, Nancy Fraser, and Frank Zappa. Soon.
References
- Antonetti, P., & Baines, P. (2015). Guilt in Marketing Research: An Elicitation–Consumption Perspective and Research Agenda. International Journal of Management Reviews, 17(3), 333–355.
// Note: This is a translated and lightly adapted version of the original Portuguese text. The author will review and revise this translation.