[ox-en] interview with christopher kelty
- From: Geert Lovink <geert xs4all.nl>
- Date: Fri, 22 Aug 2008 11:43:16 +0200
On the Culture of Free Software
Interview with Christopher Kelty
By Geert Lovink
It is still rare that anthropologists study modern technology, let
alone the politics of free software. The Houston-based scholar
Christopher Kelty, who just moved from Rice University to UCLA, has
done precisely that. Instead of observing the behavior and codes of
this professional group of computer engineers, Kelty decided to map
the social ideas behind free software production. Kelty’s Two Bits,
The Cultural Significance of Free Software contains of a historical
reconstruction of where the ideas of ‘openness’ and freedom to change
code originate. Kelty is not repeating the well-known story about the
1998 schism between the business- minded open source faction around
Eric Raymond and the religious free software fighters, lead by
Richard Stallman. Instead, we get a fascinating time travel, back to
the pre-PC period of early computing. With the different generations
of the UNIX operating systems we see how collaborative forms of
writing software is taking shape—and how the ideas about ownership
grow with it.
In the 1980s everything revolves around ‘open systems. For me the
chapter on Conceiving Open Systems was a particular highlight. Kelty
writes: “’Openness’ is precisely the kind of concept that wavers
between end and means. Is openness good in itself, or is openness a
means to achieve something else—and if so what? Who wants to achieve
openness, and for what purpose? Is openness a goal? Or is it a means
by which another goal—say ‘interoperability’ or ‘integration’ is
achieved?” According to Kelty openness is an unruly concept. “While
free tends towards ambiguity (free as in free speech, or free as in
free beer?), open tends toward obfuscation. Everyone claims to be
open, everyone has something to share, everyone agrees that being
open is the obvious thing to do.”
Two Bits is accessible and a pleasure to read, but it is not
particularly theoretical, nor critical for that matter. No critiques
here of the inward-looking geek nature of free software, the lack of
a counter economy and therefore a much larger dependency on large IT
corporations for jobs and income than necessary, and the dominance of
the conservative-libertarian pop ideology within open source/free
software circles (see www.slashdot.org). Also, do not expect to read
Levi-Strauss' the raw and the cooked adapted to Linux. What
Christopher Kelty does provide us with is an interesting first 80
pages in which he describes his wanderings through Berlin in the days
of Mikro e.V. and WOS (2001), Bangalore and Boston. Out of these
encounters with new media culture he filters a few concepts that are
worth taking up elsewhere. The first one is ‘recursive publics’.
Recursive not only points at making, maintaining and modifying, but
also at the depth of the technical and legal layers. “Geeks argue
about technology, but they also argue through it. They express ideas,
but they also express infrastructures through which ideas can be
expressed in new ways.” The second valuable concept is ‘polymaths’,
described by Kelty as avowed dilettantism. This is a part of the book
that does address the issue of a shared lifestyle amongst
programmers. Polymathy is the ability to know a large and wide range
of things. It’s what Adilkno describes as the positive side of
vagueness in its Media Archive. “Polymaths must have a detailed sense
of the present, and the project of the present, in order to imagine
how the future might be different.” All in all, enough slacker
insights to get this book and read it—supposing you've got an
interest in the history of free software and share the collective
drive to push its ideas further. What follows is an email interview
with Christopher Kelty, while he was moving to set up base in Los
Angeles.
GL: Some say that 'geeks' can be studied as an 'alien tribe'. Much
like the Australian aboriginals once[?], ordinary Westerns do not
really notice them and thus they continue what they have always done,
unaware of the big changes ahead. Apart from a few 1990s movies and
novels in which they feature, computer nerds are an invisible group.
In Two Bits you decided not to emphasize the lifestyle aspect of
geekness. Instead, you focused on the ideas that have been behind the
early Internet, Emacs and the birth of free software, Linux and
Apache, and then moving to the present with Creative Commons. Why
haven’t you opted for an 'anthropology of ideas'?
CK: Anthropology has pretty lousy marketing these days. Outside of
the discipline our two major icons are Margaret Mead and Indiana
Jones, and much of what the media expects from anthropologists is
just-so stories about why humans, especially exotic humans, do the
funny things they do, preferably involving sex and violence. So the
appeal of the geeks-as-savages story is naturally pretty strong, and
I was torn as to how to deal with that. Geeks themselves like being
profiled this way and I was "anthropologist-in-residence" in start-
ups in both Boston and Bangalore, and routinely introduced and
paraded around as such.
However, what I think is most important in anthropological research
today is the vibrancy with which researchers try to identify new
"objects" emerging through cultural practices--not just new kinds of
behavior or new organizations of people. And especially today, this
includes new kinds of practices that are globally distributed. Even
people who work with the Australian Aborigines (like Kimberly
Christen http://www.mukurtuarchive.org/ ) struggle with this issue.
Indeed, socio-cultural anthropologists arguably no longer study
"cultures" as such, but only practices and meanings which are not
easily (or violently) reduced to economics or biology.
In Two Bits, I wanted to capture why it is that a large and very
diverse global population of people recognize and find affinity with
each other. They do that by understanding, using and building free
software, which is in turn deeply interconnected with the growth and
spread of the Internet itself. So the type "geek" doesn't come first--
it is the result of adopting certain practices and habits, learning
particular histories and myths, and becoming deeply committed to
certain political ideals--and changing them as well. People want to
know why some people become geeks and some don't (or more often, why
more men than women do), but I don't have an answer to that. I think
the fact that geeks exist, are multiplying and diversifying is hard
enough to explain... why they don't become investment bankers or
firefighters is the wrong way to start asking questions about the
phenomena at hand, I think.
When the mainstream media (and many ordinary people) talk about
Aborigines, by contrast, they are often essentialized, either
culturally or genetically, as trapped within their culture, usually
as representatives of a primitive mode of life, rather than vibrant
actors in a field of practices, technologies and politics. This can
happen with Geeks as well, when one hypostatizes them as a "culture"
preceding the advent of the practices and technologies that give
their lives orientation and meaning... but it rings hollow, I think,
even to geeks who enjoy such objectification.
GL: A highlight in Two Bits for me is the non-meeting you have Eric
Raymond. He gets to sit next to a lady and during the dinner you do
not get to speak to him. You mention a number of topics and
controversies that you wanted to discuss with him. Instead, you get
to talk to other people out of which a interesting collaboration
grows (the Connexions project). Could you nonetheless perform your
Raymond critique here?
CK: I wrote a lot of stuff before the book, arguing with Raymond
(mostly in my head) and trying to figure out how to position this
person who is the ultimate "principle informant" in anthropological
terms--someone who has deep experience of, and tries to formulate
theories and explanations about, the practices that an anthropologist
wants to explain. It didn't help that Raymond called himself an
anthropologist. Indeed, it's a good indication of the low status of
the discipline—you can't call yourself a physicist or a biologist
without a lot more training, and you can go to jail if you call
yourself an engineer or a lawyer and you aren't!
Nonetheless, Raymond's work is really very good in a certain 19th
Century mode of anthropology—he is the Sir James Frazer of hacker
anthropology—but the problem is that there is another 130 years of
anthropology in between his style and that of today's anthropology,
which he ignores in favor of a pop evolutionary-psychology, which has
almost zero status in anthropology today. So he's a weird mix of old
and new and it's really hard to know what to do with him.
Take the popularity of the notion of a "gift economy" which almost
every geek in the world can talk about with some familiarity, thanks
to Raymond. This was a really good orienting idea--an "object lesson"
which helped make sense of Free Software. On the one hand, this is
exactly the right direction, and anthropologists inspired by or
trained by Marilyn Strathern immediately grok how our concepts of
exchange and person-hood are challenged by the emergence of Free
Software. On the other hand, rather than take it in this direction,
Raymond concocts a mix of vulgar Marxism (stadial theories of
development), innate "territorialism" (shades of 1960s Robert
Ardrey), and vague definitions of reputation and credit to offer a
putative explanation of why Free Software works. Needless to say, I
don't think it will be remembered as an explanation--it will be
remembered as a kind of geek-myth, which in some cases is what
Raymond almost seems to think he is doing.
Ultimately, I left all this out of the book for just this reason: if
I argue with him, I give him the status of a fellow researcher, and I
don't think either his research or his ideas merit that. Rather, I
think it's important for people to understand that Free Software
includes Raymond as an *actor*, as one of the key actors in making it
into the vibrant phenomenon it is, and so I include him (and Stallman
and Torvalds and Perens and O'Reilly and others) as one component of
five--the "movement"--which makes up the practices of Free Software.
I needed to explain why Raymond existed more than I needed to explain
why his explanations were off base.
GL: Rishab Ayer Ghosh and his Cooking Pot Theory would be another
case. But anyway. Maybe it was a missed opportunity that you have not
dwelled upon your Raymond criticism. There is no culture of debate
and criticism in these circles. Look at Stallman and how hysterically
he responds if you criticize him for his embarrassing lack of
knowledge of political philosophy, talking about freedom this and
that. We, social scientists and humanities scholars are supposed to
learn Linux, know the technical basics of operating systems, but the
other way around, forget it. Engineers can see whatever they want
about society, and get away with it. You, Steven Weber and many
others are from a new generation of FLOSS scholars that do try to
push the boundaries of theory. Do you think there is a new wave of
software studies in the making? In what direction would you like this
field of knowledge to grow?
CK: I agree... and I would much rather see Rishab's work, and work on
FOSS by anthropologists like James Leach, Bernard Krieger, Gabriella
Coleman and others be valued by engineers and programmers more than
the ravings of Stallman and Raymond... but I also think that's
impossible. I don't think of the latter two as scholars at all, more
as politicians or demagogues, which explains why you can't really
argue with either of them. I think the same is true in many domains,
where there are a few loud voices that capture all the attention.
I would argue to the contrary, however, that there is indeed an
extremely well developed culture of debate in hacker circles, once
you get beyond the demagogues, and this is something Gabriella
Coleman has captured well in her work. Projects like Debian and
Ubuntu represent the best of that culture, I think, combining an even-
increasing understanding of the political and legal issues with the
technical sophistication. But that kind of debate is much less
visible than the histrionics of the big men, so people miss it unless
they are directly involved. Such geeks are also far less libertarian
than they are often accused of being and are more likely to be
practicing a form of liberal communitarianism; and they are well
aware of the form of sociality they are building and promoting, even
if Stallman and Raymond are not. Again, I think the accusation of
libertarianism comes from listening to a few loud voices, rather than
getting close to the work of the mass of people involved.
I do think there is a new wave of software studies emerging and it
represents a kind of generational shift away from the quick and dirty
explanations towards sustained research questions that seek not only
to explain FLOSS as such, but to challenge existing theory in
different disciplines—whether that's public goods and collective
action theory in political science and economics or theories of
technology and culture in anthropology. Much of the earliest work on
FLOSS lacked depth because it was so new and responded so quickly to
the phenomenon. But with sustained attention, I think some of the
deeper issues have started to become clearer. A new generation of
"software studies" might be able to move beyond the logic of newness
that dominates the world of IT and software; it could be a chance to
identify a "longer duree" of political, economic and cultural issues
of which each new generation of cool tools and "new" ideas are seen
to be expressions. That might allow scholars to gain purchase on this
sense of rapid change and simultaneously to become more authentically
critical of the claims of each new generation of toys. That would be
a real achievement.
To create a successful new field of software studies, however,
requires that scholars are willing to sustain their attention and
take the risk of collecting, observing, participating and reflecting
over a longer period of time. When I started this project in 1999, it
was about Free Software... but by the time I finished it, the project
was about the cultural significance of the various practices involved
and how they could be understood and related historically to more
recent changes (like Wikipedia and Web 2.0), as well as much older
events (like UNIX and the Open Systems debates of the 70s and 80s). I
like to think that it is a more general analysis, and a better one,
as a result.
GL: Open and free are two key concepts if we want to understand the
significance of free software. There is a great chapter in your book
on the history, the use and abuse, of the term openness. You did not
write about the confusion about free and freedom. You have not
deconstructed the Cult of the Free into the realm of peer to peer
networks, or the debate about precarity, for instance. Why not?
CK: Well, in a way I've tried to do this in a different idiom--that
of publics and public spheres. For me, the language of freedom and
openness—and the concern with definitions, principles and the
enumeration of freedoms are a small part of the phenomenon of Free
Software. I repeatedly insist that what makes Free Software
interesting is that whether you call it free, libre or open, whether
you are with or against Stallman, as long as the other four practices
are in place (sharing source code, copyleft, coordinating
collaboration, open infrastructure debates), then the shouting
doesn't matter--it only matters that those vitriolic debates are
conducted *in the service of* the other four components, and the
phenomenon of FLOSS as such. The debates very rarely imply clear
practical choices about how to do FLOSS, they are much more often
about the meaning of it.
Where the 'public sphere' aspect is important is that I want my
readers to focus on the places where these debates (about free or
open) are conducted in the service of maintaining an independent,
technically mediated and radically modifiable public sphere. And
independent means independent of states, corporations, professions,
churches and so forth. I think this is in line with the concerns over
"precarity", "casualization" and some aspects of anti-globalization.
I think it relates wherever there are questions of fairness and the
construction of public infrastructures that give people the freedom
both to speak freely and safely, and to modify or extend those
infrastructures in ways that don't serve only the interests of
constituted powers. So I would say that skepticism about both
openness and freedom is certainly warranted--but I'm trying to help
give researchers ways to ask whether there is anything behind that
talk that might really contribute to the expansion of an authentic
public sphere, rather than just being cynical about the claims
GL: The trend is clearly away from software towards a proliferation
of social, cultural and political fields where the basic notions of
free software, eat themselves into the issues, so to say, as memes.
Do you also think that the core of the philosophy will remain the
same, or will certain elements mutate, once they travel from context
to context?
CK: Since I don't think the philosophy is at the "core" I suspect it
will not remain the same at all. What has occupied my attention is
what happens when the *practices* of free software are adopted more
as templates for action than as memes, and then are modified based on
pragmatic concerns. So Creative Commons modulated the notion of a
copyleft license, but in an attempt to be all things to all people,
they also created a new problem--multiple conflicting licenses and
debates about the meaning of "non-commercial" or "third world" or
"sampling." The Connexions project modulated the meaning of "source
code" to include textbooks, but in doing so encountered (and has not
quite solved) the problem that educators don't write or share
textbooks the way programmers do code. These modulations are
interesting in themselves for what they can tell us about different
domains (e.g. how film works or doesn't as a collaboration, how music
can be pulled apart, recombined and re-valued), but the bigger
question, I suggest, is whether in modulating these components, the
people and practices involved maintain any hope of expanding or
strengthening a public sphere that provides an autonomous space for
material and discursive experimentation, even if such practices are
not on their surface explicitly Political (with a capital P).
So to answer your question, I think the modulation of the
"philosophy" of free software will continue. The world of open
educational resources has a much different approach to understanding
the relationship between freedom and the tools of thought; groups
like Autonomo.us are modulating the principles of Free Software to
deal with web services; and perhaps the clearest case are the debates
within various "free culture" movements about whether the philosophy
is too software-centric, and what freedom means with respect to other
cultural materials. Certainly within anthropology there is massive
suspicion of projects like Creative Commons and its imperial approach
to defining cultural freedom-- but this is, as I say, just one
component of the changing landscape—it's also important to pay
attention to whether and where the other practices are replicated—
licenses, definitions of open infrastructure, tools and schemes for
coordination and collaboration, the definition of what objects can be
shared, etc. The modulation of the philosophy of free software is
part of the more general process of these practices being adopted and
transformed—and not the driver of those changes.
GL: How do you look at the Oekonux debates in 2[PHONE NUMBER REMOVED], the current
activities of www.keimform.de, the P2P foundation and theoretical
work of Adam Arvidsson, Michel Bauwens and others? What do you make
of such practical and theoretical efforts to bring together the
principles of free software and peer-to-peer production? Do we have
we an economic turn ahead of us? Would this be a very European idea
or do see similar tendencies in the USA? Some say that it is really
urgent that the FLOSS efforts focus on cell phones and RFID tags. In
which direction would you like to see research and activism go?
CK: I think this is a huge question, far beyond what I tried to do in
the book. In some ways, I see this as the next iteration of social
science questioning after the "information economy" or "network
society"-- ethical economies, creative capitalism, germ-forms, peer
production (Benkler), and p2p societies are grand socio-economic
diagnoses, and as such, crucial for debating how to analyze and make
sense of the changes we are seeing. I don't think it is particularly
European, but in the U.S. it is more likely associated with things
like von Hippel's "User-driven Innovation", Henry Chesborough's "open
innovation" and other work in management and innovation studies.
Scholars in those domains in the US are often less aware of the socio-
political and activist concerns that I think are much more on the
surface in Europe, much more philosophically grounded in cases like
Oekonux and P2P Foundation. By contrast, groups like Indymedia or
Riseup.net represent a more radical genealogy in the US and abroad,
which is the subject of Jeffrey Juris' recent book (Networking
Futures). So there are obviously different ways to tell the story of
this confluence of ideas.
One way to understand my position vis-a-vis these debates is that I
have started from the assumption that the practices involved in the
creation of Free Software (and the Internet as well) which emerged in
the 1980s and 1990s are at the core of the changes we are seeing—and
not general economic or cultural ideologies, which I see instead as
effects of changing practices. So for me, Wikipedia and Facebook are
not examples of the same thing that Free Software is an example of
(peer production or creative capitalism or user-driven innovation
etc.) but *derivatives* of the practices that coalesced so
productively in Free Software. And Free Software is also not original
in this sense, but drawn from the modulation of UNIX in the 1970s,
the open systems debates in the 1980s. I think it is important, for
instance, to understand the role of telecommunications regulation and
anti-trust politics in the US and Europe in the 1980s to understand
why Free Software gained a foothold in the 1990s. I'd be less likely
to attribute the emergence of Free Software to a new stage of history
than I would to a detailed working out of a previous structure of
legal and economic practices. In this, I think I'm in partial
sympathy with the Oekonux and P2P Foundation projects because I think
"critique of political economy" in the strictest sense of the term is
what is needed here.
On the other hand, I'm skeptical that theorizing a new kind of
economy will make any difference to the kinds of persistent
inequalities and injustices already present in actually existing
markets. For example, a colleague of mine Robert Foster, has just
published a great book about Coca Cola's role in the global economy
(Coca-Globalization). Many of the things he describes about how Coca
Cola interacts with its customers, encourages them to innovate and
draws them into the "experience" of Coca Cola share a great deal with
the explanations offered by the "user innovation" people. The
difference of course is that Coca Cola is, well, evil. Identifying
why it's not the same thing for Coca Cola or Apple to engage in "peer
production" as it is for Wikipedia seems to me to be the most
difficult question. Similarly, for me it was important to identify
the core practices of free software in order to distinguish what
Apple and Microsoft were doing from what real free software projects
are doing. That's why I turned to the problem of publics and public
spheres and their independence from constituted forms of power,
rather than to the theory of public goods, or a revived Marxism. I
don't think they are incompatible, but I'm a pragmatist at the core:
I want to see whether such theories help make sense of, and
potentially transform, concrete realities of practice.
GL: As you may have noticed, there is no Web 2.0 platform for
activists. Indymedia is more or less dead (at least, the English/
international edition). Activism and social networks do not seem to
match that well. The problem of transparency for police and other
services of these platforms plays an important role in this. On the
other hand, social movements have always been prime examples of
networks that can scale very well, if the circumstances are right. Do
you also see a problem here? The social seem to have gone technical,
and it is questionable if we can just make a romantic move back in
such an instance?
CK: I don't think of any of the web 2.0 platforms as being
particularly true to the principles of free software. Wikipedia yes,
and a few projects such as Shay David's Kaltura are explicit about
their commitment, even as they struggle with solvency and
sustainability, to say nothing of profitability. But Facebook,
MySpace, Friendster, Ning, and so forth all lack some component that
leads, in my terms, to the creation or expansion of a recursive
public. I would like to think that this concept helps explain, in
part, why activists might shy away from such platforms, insofar as we
are talking about activist publics whose commitments are to an
independent and legitimately powerful civil society whose discussions
and deliberations have real effect on the constituted forms of power
they address. The technical commitment of such publics is essential,
however, because, yes, we cannot go back to a world without the
technical infrastructures, new modes of expression and circulation
that have been created. We are, in some ways, condemned to address
the technical as a political problem. Rising 'above' such details
into the realm of principles may clarify things, but only if such a
move can be tested in the concrete and complex skein of the
contemporary operating systems of our world.
GL: Would it be possible to identify 'kernels' of conceptual hegemony
in projects like Debian and Ubuntu that are not corporate and
conservative in nature? How can we open an intellectual dialogue
about this? In the case of Web 2.0 we see again the importance of
(collaborative) meme construction? Just think of all this talk of
'swarms'. How to regain the confidence to build up a counter-
hegemonic discourse? Is your concept of the 'recursive publics'
offering a way out here?
CK: In the cases of Debian and Ubuntu, there is a strong core of
people and practices, well developed, exquisitely argued and widely
implemented that I would characterize as "pure" free software.
Insofar as my characterization of the practices of free software as a
kind of ideal type has a real expression of those ideal features,
Debian and Ubuntu are probably the best exemplars. But just
certifying these projects as pure is meaningless. The concept of a
recursive public was my way of articulating the significance of these
pure forms, not just the conditions of their existence. And that
significance is 1) that they treat technical infrastructure and
decisions about its design as political through and through, as far
down the "recursive" stack of technical layers as possible and 2)
they do so in order to maintain the possibility not only of an
authentic public sphere that they inhabit, but the possibility of the
emergence of publics oppositional to themselves, and to those that
emerge, and so on. Whether or not people take advantage of these
publics to develop counter-hegemonic discourses and new political
powers is uncertain, it's not implied by the form of the technology,
but it is enabled by it.
Free Software provides a radical form of openness which is, perhaps,
a very American way of constituting a public (suspicious of the state
and corporations, obsessed with ideas of balance and fairness, and a
weird mix of individualism and populism). The question I think it
raises is whether, as a politics it has a content. Free Software as
it exists has an insanely refined focus on form over political
content (and this is the source of the suspicion about the dominance
of the technical). But the question is: is this focus on form itself
a particular kind of political content? At some level yes, but it is
one that is open to, and maybe even encourages people to challenge
it. It is a way of saying: if this is a (for instance) "libertarian"
form, it is one that you are allowed to change--so make it less
libertarian if you believe that will make it better. It says nothing,
however, about whether people will have the power to do that, which
is its weakest feature, its inability to incorporate the concrete
fact that history has led us to this point.
--
Christopher Kelty, Two Bits, The Cultural Significance of Free
Software, Duke University Press, 2008
His online text archive: http://www.kelty.org/or/index.html
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