Category: show in Big Data from the South

[BigDataSur-COVID] Surveillance in the Time of Coronavirus: The Case of the Indian contact tracing app Aarogya Setu

by Soumyo Das (Center of Information Technology and Public Policy at IIIT Bangalore)

Covid-19 has brought governments across the world to the drawing boards trying to design efficient pandemic containment strategies. In India, while reports suggest that the rise in number of cases has reduced from exponential levels, the spread continues. The government, alongside enforcing a complete lockdown of all human activity in non-essential services and sectors, has considered the use of digital technologies (ICTs) to monitor and control the spread of the virus as an informational and preventive model. In tune with other national governments, including those of Singapore and China, on April 2nd, 2020 the Government of India launched the ‘contact tracing technology’ initiative called ‘Aarogya Setu’. Developed in house, namely by the National Informatics Center of the Ministry of Electronics and Information Technology, the mobile application is available in eleven national languages. As April 25, it has reached 7.5 million registered users.

The application, designed to keep track of the travel and contact history of an individual, can be downloaded by users voluntarily. It registers the personal information of users—including name, age, gender, health status, and recent travel history. Asking users to respond to a series of questions designed to assess if the person is Covid-19 positive, Aarogya Setu generates a Unique Digital Identity for the individual. It also assigns the user a Covid-19 status: low risk, high risk, positive, or negative. It uses Bluetooth and GPS to collect all the other data. The connectivity system (Bluetooth) allows the application to record details of other registered users that the registered individual comes in contact with. The location tracking system (GPS) constantly registers the location of a user in 15-minute intervals. In the initial phase, users’ data are stored locally on their mobile device; however, for those who are assessed to be positive, the data is transferred from the mobile device to a national server for assessment and communication purposes—which raises a number of worries.

Aarogya Setu raises privacy and security concerns

Since the application allows to monitor the contact history and location of registered individuals who test positive, it is supposed to empower the Government to analyze the virus spread in a localized area, and informs individuals who came in contact with the positive individuals about self-isolation and further steps. Two things have to be kept in mind about the application. Firstly, its effectiveness is dependent on the individual practice of self-reporting symptoms in an honest and timely manner. Secondly, it has been designed only for smartphone users, and is furthermore voluntary, thus it can effectively monitor a subset of https://www.news18.com/news/tech/smartphone-users-in-india-crossed-500-million-in-2019-states-report-2479529.html. Therefore, as Jason Say, Senior Director of Government Technology Agency, Singapore, argues, ‘automated contact testing is not a panacea’, and ‘a competent human-in-the-loop system with sufficient capacity’ is a more effective strategy than over-relying on techno-centric solutions.

On top of that, Aarogya Setu comes with its fair share of privacy and security problems. To start with, with no comprehensive legislation in the Indian lawbooks which outlines protection of online privacy for individuals, application users have little to no choice but to agree to privacy policies set by the developers as instructed by the Government of India. While said policy provides a sketchy outline of where and for how long individual data would be retained, the majority of the text offers nothing but a string of vague statements which simply miss out on disclosing who owns and controls access to the data. Specifically, the policy reads that ‘persons carrying out medical and administrative interventions necessary in relation to Covid-19’ can have access to the data. Given that practically all ministries and departments of the Government of India are playing an active role in devising strategies and implementing processes to contain the spread of the virus, policy statements like this evoke ample chances of ‘interdepartmental exchanges of people’s personal information’ based on an analysis of the policy outlined in the application, as denounced by the Internet Freedom Foundation.

Beyond the concerns surrounding undisclosed and vague data use and data protection policies, the fact that individuals are assigned a Unique Digital Identifier number raises concerns of privacy as well. Firstly, given that all individuals are provided with a static identity number, there are concrete chances of identity breach. Moreover, all individuals in India have a national Unique Identity number (the so-called ‘Aadhar Number’) associated with the contact details of the same communication device used for the purpose of Aarogya Setu, with amplified risks of identity & data sharing. For example, these two identities might be leaked, which sounds the alarm bells regarding the potential linkage of biographical information, location and contact history of registered users of Aarogya Setu with that of an individual’s Aadhar number. In the meantime, numerous cases have been recorded of the National Unique Identity system being used to link identity metrics including those of an individual’s financial accounts and social welfare program accounts amongst others (Masiero & Das 2019). The same might happen for individual data collected via Aarogya Setu. Finally, fears have multiplied with intel sources reporting that software already available in the market can bypass the system security and extract sensitive information of an individual.

Voluntary adoption?

While downloading the application is voluntary, certain states has made individual registration on the application a mandatory requirement. For example, in New Delhi, Mr. Surjit K. Singh, Director of National Center for Disease Control, has strongly recommended the Delhi government to allow people to enter the city capital only after they have installed the application, therefore setting the tone for the use of the application for monitoring inter-district & inter-state movement of people. Similarly, the Tamil Nadu state government has urged employees of all higher education institutions in the state to use the application. App-based platforms like Zomato has made Aarogya Setu registration mandatory for food delivery personnel, while IT companies have mandated the same for employees who are reporting to office. Furthermore, both government and private organizations are actively pushing individuals to register on the Aarogya Setu application, and with reports of the government working towards procuring thousands of wristbands to be integrated with the application for greater individual monitoring.

A ‘Bridge to Wellness’

With no documentation being available at the time of writing for Aarogya Setu, organizations such as Internet Freedom Foundation and Software Freedom Law Center have raised concerns that the application is something of a black-box. They have called for more transparency on the algorithmic functioning of an application which is developed and promoted by the Government of India and deals with accessing and databasing the personal details of individuals. Ironically, the very same name of the application, which can be roughly translated as ‘Bridge to Wellness’, points to empowerment and better futures. But what would it take for the app to yield that “wellness” it evokes?

It is time for individuals and action groups in the country to raise demands for a greater transparency regarding the functioning of the application. The government must address the privacy concerns of its citizens. It must provide clarity on who owns the data, where it is stored, who can access and use it, and how—and for how long it will be stored. Unless such concerns are addressed, and effective measures taken at the earliest, Aarogya Setu only promises to cross people over to a world of algorithmic surveillance.

Author’s bio: Soumyo Das is a Research Scholar at the Center of Information Technology and Public Policy at IIIT Bangalore. His research primarily focusses on Information Systems in Organisations, and ICT4D. Soumyo holds an undergraduate degree in the applied sciences, and was formerly associated with a technology consulting firm as a Client Associate.

[BigDataSur] The Challenge of Decolonizing Big Data through Citizen Data Audits [1/3]

Author: Katherine Reilly, Simon Fraser University, School of Communication

A curious thing happened in Europe after the creation of the GDPR. A whole new wave of data audit companies came into existence to service companies that use personal data. This is because, under the GDPR, private companies must audit their personal data management practices. An entire industry emerged around this requirement. If you enter “GDPR data audit” into Google, you’ll discover article after article covering topics like “the 7 habits of highly effective data managers” and “a checklist for personal data audits.”

Corporate data audits are central to the personal data protection frameworks that have emerged in the past few years. But among citizen groups, and in the community, data audits are very little discussed. The word “audit” is just not very sexy. It brings to mind green eyeshades, piles of ledgers, and a judge-y disposition. Also, audits seem like they might be a tool of datafication and domination. If data colonization “encloses the very substance of life” (Halkort), then wouldn’t data auditing play into these processes?

In these three blog posts, I suggest that this is not necessarily the case. In fact, we precisely need to develop the field of citizen data audits, because they offer us an indispensable tool for the decolonization of big data. The posts look at how audits contribute to upholding our current data regimes, an early attempt to realize a citizen data audit in Peru, and emerging alternative approaches. The series of the following blogposts will be published the coming weeks:

  1. The Current Reality of Personal Data Audits [find below]

  2. A First Attempt at Citizen Data Audits [link]

  3. Data Stewardship through Citizen Centered Data Audits [link]

 

The Current Reality of Personal Data Audits

Before we can talk about citizen data audits, it is helpful to first introduce the idea of auditing in general, and then unpack the current reality of personal data audits. In this post, I’ll explain what audits are, the dominant approach to data audits in the world right now, and finally, the role that audits play in normalizing the current corporate-focused data regime.

The aim of any audit is to check whether people are carrying out practices according to established standards or criteria that ensure proper, efficient and effective management of resources.

By their nature, audits are twice removed from reality. In one sense, this is because auditors look for evidence of tasks rather than engaging directly in them. An auditor shows up after data has been collected, processed, stored or applied, and they study the processes used, as well as their impacts. They ask questions like “How were these tasks completed, and, were they done properly?”

Auditors are removed from reality in a second sense, because they use standards established by other people. An auditor might ask “Were these tasks done according to corporate policy, professional standards, or the law?” Auditors might gain insights into how policies, standards or laws might be changed, but their main job is to report on compliance with standards set by others.

Because auditors are removed from the reality of data work, and because they focus on compliance, their work can come across as distant, prescribed – and therefore somewhat boring. But when you step back and look at the bigger picture, audits raise many important questions. Who do auditors report to and why? Who sets the standards by which personal data audits are carried out? What processes does a personal data audit enforce? How might audits normalize corporate use of personal data?

We can start to answer these questions by digging into the criteria that currently drive corporate audits of personal data. These can be divided into two main aspects: corporate policy and government regulation.

On the corporate side, audits are driven by two main criteria: risk management and profitability. From a corporate point of view, personal data audits are no exception. Companies want to make sure that personal data doesn’t expose them to liabilities, and that use of this resource is contributing effectively and efficiently to the corporate bottom line.

That means that when they audit their use of personal data, they will check to see whether the costs of warehousing and managing data is worth the reward in terms of efficiencies or returns. They will also check to see whether the use of personal data exposes them to risk, given existing legal requirements, social norms or professional practices. For example, poor data management may expose a company to the risk of being sued, or the risk of alienating their clientele. Companies want to ensure that their internal practices limit exposure to risks that may damage their brand, harm their reputation, incur costs, or undermine productivity.

In total, corporate data audits are driven by, and respond to, corporate policies, and those policies are organized around ensuring the viability and success of the corporation.

Of course, the success of a corporation does not always align with the well-being of the community. We see this clearly in the world of personal data. Corporate hunger for personal data resources has often come at the expense of personal or community rights.

Because of this, governments insist that companies enforce three additional regulatory data audit criteria: informed consent, personal data security, and personal data privacy.

We can see these criteria reflected clearly in the EU’s General Data Privacy Regulation. Under the GDPR, companies must ask customers for permission to access their data, and when they do so, they must provide clear information about how they intend to use that data.

They must also account for the personal data they hold, how it was gathered, from whom, to what end, where it is held, and who accesses it for what business processes. The purpose of these rules is to ensure companies develop clear internal data management policies and practices, and this, in turn, is meant to ensure companies are thinking carefully about how to protect personal privacy and data security. The GDPR requires companies to audit their data management practices on the basis of these criteria.

Taking corporate policy and government regulation together, personal data audits are currently informed by 5 criteria – profitability, risk, consent, security and privacy. What does this tell us about the management of data resources in our current data regime?

In a recent Guardian piece Stephanie Hare pointed out that “the GDPR could have … [made] privacy the default and requir[ed] us to opt in if we want to have our data collected. But this would hurt the ability of governments and companies to know about us and predict and manipulate our behaviour.” Instead, in the current regime, governments accept the central audit criteria of businesses, and on top of this, they establish the minimal protections necessary to ensure a steady flow of personal data to those same corporate actors. This means that the current data regime (at least in the West) privileges the idea that data resides with the individual, and also the idea that corporate success requires access to personal data.

Audits work to enforce the collection of personal data by private companies, by ensuring that companies are efficient, effective and risk averse in the collection of personal data. They also normalize corporate collection of personal data by providing a built in response to security threats and privacy concerns. When the model fails – when there is a security breach or privacy is disrespected – audits can be used to identify the glitch so that the system can continue its forward march.

And this means that audits can, indeed, serve as tools of datafication and domination. But I don’t think this necessarily needs to be the case. In the next post, I’ll explore what we’ve learned from experimenting with citizen data audits, before turning to the question of how they can contribute to the decolonization of big data in the final post.

 

About the author: Dr. Katherine Reilly is Associate Professor in the School of Communication at Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, Canada. She is the recipient of a SSHRC Partnership Grant and an International Development Research Centre grant to explore citizen data audit methodologies alongside Derechos Digitales in Chile, Fundacion Karisma in Colombia, Sula Batsu in Costa Rica, TEDIC in Paraguay, HiperDerecho in Peru, and ObservaTIC in Uruguray.

[BigDataSur] The dilemma of making migrants visible to COVID-19 counting

The COVID-19 pandemic requires reconsidering the relationship between data and invisible populations as a form of de facto civil inclusion. While most forms of data management of populations are problematic, under which conditions would counting be just?

Annalisa Pelizza and Yoren Lausberg, Processing Citizenship research program, University of Bologna

Stefania Milan, DATACTIVE research program, University of Amsterdam

This post was originally published on Open Democracy on April 28, 2020

On March 13th, in announcing that Europe had become the epicenter of the COVID-19 pandemic, World Health Organization’s Executive Director Dr Michael Ryan made a plea in favor of invisible populations. “We cannot forget migrants, we cannot forget undocumented workers, we cannot forget prisoners,” he argued. In just a few days, civil societies around the world would have discovered that invisibility is indeed a recurrent companion to the virus. Exceptionally hard to contain due to its asymptomatic contagion and long incubation period, COVID-19 has also been hard to classify as a cause of death, complicating the efforts to trace it and count its victims. Despite narratives about its alleged democratic character, the virus seems to hit the weak, invisible populations the hardest. The elderly confined in care homes are decimated across Europe, largely uncounted. From China to Pennsylvania the toll of people passed away in the solitude of their homes—or of their shelters—does not appear in official statistics. Undocumented migrants are dying from the virus because they are too afraid to seek help, and their numbers typically do not reach official statistics. If today “being counted” is even more so a condition of existence and care, Western countries are failing to account for the health conditions of invisible populations like people on the move. In the days of COVID-19 as never before, what these dramatic (missing) numbers make apparent is that invisibility may mean death.

The COVID-19 pandemic puts us in front of a dilemma with regards to invisibilized populations, and migrants in particular—one which has to do simultaneously with societal and technological concerns. On one hand, visibility gaps are a systemic aspect of population management that might be welcomed by policy makers and populations alike. Indeed, the illusion of a “data panopticon” does not take into account the conditions of data collection, data gaps and the limits of system interoperability: not everyone is counted in all systems, and not in the same way. Such invisibility might serve the needs of informal economies and unscrupulous politicians ready to mobilize security concerns. From a different perspective, from homeless to prisoners, from migrants to sex workers, invisibility can be deemed a protection from care that too often resembles control and surveillance.

On the other hand, a surge in the visibility of migrant populations might help curbing the contagion and avoiding massive spreads within vulnerable populations. Indeed, being invisible translates into the inability to access crucial services in the time of the pandemic, and health care above all. Access to testing and cure requires insurance, and insurance requires being countable. Even when the costs of insurance can be offset by the collectivity, being countable remains a key condition of access. In the U.S., for example, the second coronavirus relief package known as the Families First Coronavirus Response Act has extended testing to the Medicaid-eligible population, even when uninsured, but not to undocumented migrants, nor to other temporary residents.

We suggest that, while in normal conditions populations on the move may prefer to remain invisible rather than face repression, stigma or deportation, the current situation requires to reconsider the relationship between data, populations and (in)visibility. We thus wonder under which conditions including invisibilized populations in the general COVID-19 count could turn out a just solution. For sure, some cautions should be used. In the best case scenario, instead of exposing vulnerable populations, such reconsideration might even entail a de facto form of civil inclusion. What follows makes the point by considering migrants and undocumented populations as especially vulnerable to COVID-19 due to their invisibilized status in official registries and administration, and the barriers to formal and professional care that this invisibility entails. While most of our examples originate in the European continent, our main terrain of study, we believe that there is something universal in this exercise that can also inform the way other countries and communities relate to people in the move in the time of the pandemic.

People on the move do not show in COVID-19 counts

António Vitorino, Director General of the International Organization for Migration has recently called for a universal response to COVID-19, regardless of migratory status. Portugal has specifically addressed the migrant condition in its response to the pandemic. It has extended to third country nationals with pending applications access to the same services of the resident population: from national health care to welfare benefits, from bank accounts to work and rental contracts. The Portuguese response constitutes a temporary de facto inclusion of foreign citizens, in the name of pragmatism as well as of human rights. It is however unique in a continent that has rather halted most bureaucratic procedures and data processing involving people on the move. Sweden, The Netherlands and Belgium have suspended administrative services for migrants, refugees and asylum-seekers. After having halted asylum procedures, Greece has put migrants living in overcrowded camps under quarantine. In Serbia, along the so-called Balkan Route, armed forces have taken over the security of about 150 social welfare institutions, 120 medical facilities and 20 migrant camps, de facto locking migrants in. Similarly, Bosnia Herzegovina has introduced tighter controls in the reception centres, which migrants and refugees can no longer leave or enter. Italy has declared its ports “unsecure”, asylum and police offices are closed and data processing suspended. Meanwhile, an estimated 200,000 undocumented farmworkers in Italy live in cramped informal settlements in precarious hygienic conditions and without running water, which makes it impossible to implement the social distancing and hygienic measures imposed to slow down the contagion. In France many sleep in makeshift camps or on the streets, with local nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) sounding alarm bells about an upcoming “health scandal”, and questioning the government’s lack of adequate response. In the UK, NGOs point out that the suspension of various support networks increasingly puts already precarious people at risk, noting how  the hostile environment deters undocumented people from seeking help. All in all, in many European countries migrants are not included in COVID-19 counts, equally hindering access to care and relief systems. What are the consequences of this situation, and how can it be overturned?

The consequences of invisibility

Invisibility of moving populations in time of pandemic can have health, economic, and social consequences. First, we do see that its effects stack on existing social and institutional inequalities. Vulnerable populations are left behind in addressing the public health threats of the coronavirus outbreak. As already hostile environments bar mobile populations from seeking professional and official health care, the spread and effects of the coronavirus will be exacerbated among these populations. They are already vulnerable due to a lack of accessible information and access to hygiene facilities, but also because their economic vulnerability may force them to seek employment when others can choose to stay at home. The exclusion of some people from comprehensive efforts to counter the spread of COVID-19 will cause harsher and prolonged sanitary effects among these groups. With effects not only on their wellbeing, but also on the general wellbeing of society at large, as failure to contain the virus will exacerbate its spread.

Second, invisibility may entail dramatic asymmetries in economy and labor relations. Not only invisibility allows exploitation in agricultural economies, construction work and temporary job markets, among others. It also marks a harsh asymmetry between migrant workers’ contribution to the COVID-19 response and their under-representation in statistics. For instance, European countries like Austria and Germany are importing farmhands from Eastern Europe to harvest seasonal vegetables like asparagus. The Italian Minister of Agriculture Teresa Bellanova has recently proposed to give some of the estimated 600,000 undocumented immigrants in the country temporary work permits to plug the labor gap which is particularly large and urgent in the agri-food sector. Yet counting as well as rights asymmetries continue to permeate job sectors that are key in the corona response. Food delivery workers in European cities are largely migrants who cannot afford to “stay home” and lose income. According to the Migration Policy Institute, in the U.S. foreign born represent 38 percent of home care and significant shares of workers in food production and distribution, all sectors at the coronavirus response frontline.

Third, invisibility has societal consequences too, as it helps fueling racism and xenophobic reactions. In Italy, for example, pseudoscientific myths are spreading on social media, in a country where often migration is associated with heterogeneous skin traits and hospitalized patients are largely white. Not only do these resurgent racialized explanations of alleged immunity to the virus fuel racist narratives, lack any scientific base and disregard empirical evidence of Afro-American communities tragically and disproportionally hit by the virus on the other side of the Atlantic. They also reignite racial classifications and genetic pseudoscientific thinking that we hoped were buried with XIX century colonial anthropology. Furthermore, they counteract socio-scientific explanations and consequent policy action. If temporary residents are less prone to ask for support in case of COVID-19 symptoms, this might be due to their tendency to associate the health care system with repressive authorities, scarce linguistic skills or fragmented social networks: all explanations that should be investigated in order to curb the contagion.

Our proposals for just visibility

All things considered, one might wonder whether the current emergency requires reconsidering the relationship between data, visibility and populations. Institutional solutions appear to timidly move in the direction of making migrant populations more visible. In Italy, the introduction of mandatory self-certification to exit home was sufficient to halt the agricultural production chain, as work force is mainly constituted by irregular migrants. As a result, the Italian Agriculture Ministry is attempting to overcome the impasse by creating a new registry of agricultural labor. Even U.S. scholar and author Shoshana Zuboff, a well-known fierce critic of what she herself terms “surveillance capitalism”, in an interview with the Italian daily “La Repubblica” has surprisingly argued that contact tracing apps should be mandatory and data should be managed by public bodies. But Zuboff’s argument falls short when it meets vulnerable populations who are not longing to be traced and are inherently suspicious of authorities. Becoming visible through an app of this kind does not fit well with the fears of repression and deportation these vulnerable population live with.

The question is therefore how can visibility be just? The various consequences of invisibility we have identified do not exist in isolation. Forms of invisibilization stack upon each other. As mentioned above, mobile populations often work in already precarious or exploitative sectors, which have suddenly become foregrounded as “essential” during the pandemic. This creates the paradox that while the work is visibilized as vital, the workers are barred from accessing civil rights, are still kept out of the count and thus excluded from aid and relief. It is then crucial to consider what inclusion in the COVID-19 response is for: is it a temporal visibilization in disease tracing and tracking, so that those who have been immunized can return to orchards and elderly houses to become invisibilized workers again? Or will access to civil rights be granted on a permanent basis to all who are still excluded from it?

In facing the visibility/invisibility dilemma for populations on the move, diverse scenarios open up—from repressive authorities taking advantage of the temporal disclosure to identify and track undocumented migrants, to a de facto form of civil inclusion. De facto inclusion would entail universal access to civil institutions such as health care, welfare and civil rights. It would be an infrastructural (but nevertheless political) way to perform people on the move as members of civil communities, while at the same time protecting them through civil rights. De facto inclusion would entail protected visibility. In what follows we reflect on the conditions under which the counting of invisibilized populations can lean towards this second scenario.

We argue that a multipronged approach is needed to address the problem of making the invisible population of migrants countable under fair conditions. Firstly, we need to give careful consideration to how we count and what digital infrastructure we use toward this end. For starters, counting should respect the principles enshrined in the EU General Data Protection Regulation, most notably data minimization (i.e., data collection should be limited to what is necessary) and purpose limitation (i.e., data should be collected for specific, explicit and legitimate purposes). But it should also commit to fairness and transparency, whereby personal data should be processed in a way which is transparent to data subjects, and, we would add, abide to democratic oversight and accountability. In other words, the counting we propose should be finalized to protection of vulnerable populations and the societies surrounding them, rather than exclusion, discrimination or repression. To this end, we need to ensure that data collection and use are discrimination- and future-proof, and that data about, for instance, health conditions collected during the pandemic emergency are not used against these vulnerable populations at a later stage. In this process of envisioning fair rules for counting vulnerable populations, the infrastructure dimension is to be given adequate consideration. Although “invisible” in themselves, digital infrastructures–including how they are designed, integrated and who owns them–are an integral part of any decision-making with regards to counting, especially for what concerns the public versus private ownership and oversight.

Secondly and strictly related, access to civil rights for people on the move must also include the right to be deleted from any database, and to not be traced beyond the original goals (i.e., the purpose limitation mentioned in GDPR). Data about people who have been on the move are already stored in systems of identification and registration used at the border, with the risk of carrying stigmas far and wide. On top of that, entering a health care or welfare database often means enlisting a system of cross checks that can be invasive of personal life and heavily influence intimate choices. As many counts and registries are also modes of control and surveillance, inclusion should also mean inclusion in the right to be forgotten. Furthermore, any restrictive or invasive measure should come with adequate sunset provisions, whereby any data collection that is in some way invasive of people’s privacy can cease to have effect when, e.g., a vaccine becomes available and widely administered.

Thirdly, as we know that the practice of counting speaks for the counter more than for the counted, we propose an alliance between different counting entities rallying around the need for public critical care. These entities include, at the bare minimum, migrant-led organizations, shelters, health care institutions, unions, and organizations close to the ground. This comes with its own set of challenges, including database interoperability issues and principles, as various organizations will have to gather around a concern for care and public health coming with their own experiences and values. The alternative would however leave us with a prolonged public health crisis or centralizes state authorities or private corporations in the collection of population data.

Finally, and most importantly, the counting we propose should take stock of the European migration regime, and invert the priority given since 2015 to securitization at the expenses of health data. Our research at Processing Citizenshiphas indeed shown that in European frontline countries the assessment of health conditions was originally the primary concern upon disembarkation of people rescued at sea. However, with the so called “Hotspot approach” introduced in 2015 priority has been shifted to fill administrative databases for security concerns. If anything, COVID-19 is a powerful reminder of the need to restore the original priority given to health data in population management, rather than to administrative information. In sum, we argue that identification and tracking of migrants for purely security purposes should be replaced by health care assessment through specialized, non-interoperable information systems that count together resident populations and those on the move.

To conclude, we cannot but note that the bulk of our proposals—especially around data protection, data minimization, purpose limitation, sunset clauses—are valid also in the deployment of contact tracing apps for the general population. Which leads us to wonder to what extent any counting measure to contain the virus can be effective while distinguishing among populations. By considering how to fairly include invisibilized populations in what is today’s most pressing count, we might end up realizing that even most classifications for visible populations are being redefined. A more comprehensive solution to this conundrum would be rethinking critical services to include all residents of a given polity, regardless of their status. If so, the challenge is making sure that this redefinition is as inclusive as possible. This might mean changing the ways Europe sees its people and who these people are, and ultimately the role of data infrastructures in this inclusive recounting.

 

Acknowledgements

The authors wish to thank Chiara Milan (University of Graz) for sharing her knowledge about the current situation in the Balkans concerning populations on the move and the pandemic.

The authors disclose receipt of the following financial supports for the research, authorship, and publication of this article: Processing Citizenship (2017–2022, Grant Agreement No. 714463) and DATACTIVE (2015–2020, Grant Agreement No. 639379), both of which have received funding from the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation program.

[BigDataSur] Data journalism without data: challenges from a Brazilian perspective

Author: Peter Füssy

For the last decade, data journalism has attracted attention from scholars, some of whom have provided distinct definitions in order to understand the changes in journalistic practices. Each one of them emphasizes a particular aspect of data journalism; from new forms of collaboration to open-source culture (Coddington, 2014). Yet, even among clashing definitions, it is possible to say they all agree that there is no data journalism without data. But which data? Relevant data does not generate by itself and it is usually related to power, economic, and/or political struggles (De Maeyer et. al, 2014). While journalists in the Global North mostly benefit from open government mechanisms for public scrutiny, journalists working in countries with less transparency and democratic tradition still face infrastructural issues when putting together data and journalism (Borges-Rey, 2019; Wright, Zamith & Bebawi, 2019).

For the next paragraphs, I draw from academic research, reports, projects, and my own experience to briefly problematize one of the most recurring challenges to data journalism in Brazil: access to information. Since relevant data is rarely available immediately, a considerable part of data-driven investigative projects in Brazil relies on Freedom of Information (FOI) law that forces governments to provide data of public interest. Also known as Access to Information or Right to Information, these acts are an essential tool to increase transparency, accountability, citizens agency, and trust. Yet, implementation and compliance of the regulation in Brazil are inefficient in all levels of government bodies (Michener, 2018; Abraji, 2019; Fonseca, 2020; Venturini, 2017).

More than just a bureaucratic issue inherited from years of dictatorship and lack of competences, this inefficiency is also a political act. As Torres argued, taking Mexico as an example, institutional resistance to transparency is carried out through subtle and non-political actions that diminish data activists agency and have the effect of producing or reinforcing inequalities (Torres, 2020). In the case of Brazil, however, recent reports imply that institutional resistance to transparency is not necessarily subtle. It may also be a political flag.

Opacity and Freedom of Information

According to Berliner, the first FOI act was passed in Sweden in 1766, but the recent wave follows the example of the United States’ act from 1966. After the US, there is no clear pattern for adoption; for example, Colombia passed a law in 1985, while the United Kingdom did so only in 2000. FOI acts are more likely to pass when there is a highly competitive domestic political environment, rather than pressure from civil society or international institutions (Berliner, 2014).

Sanctioned in 2011, the Brazilian FOI came to effect only in 2012. In the first six years, 611.3 thousand requests were filled just in the federal government (excluding state and municipal bodies). The average of 279 requests per day or 11 per hour suggests how eager the population was to decentralise information. Although public authorities often give insufficient responses and say that the request was granted, it is possible to say the law was about to “stick”. From the total requests, 458.4 thousand (75%) resulted in partial or full access to the requested information (Valente, 2018).

At the beginning of 2019, while president Jair Bolsonaro was at his first international appearance as the Brazilian head of state in Davos, vice president general Hamilton Mourão signed a decree to limit access to information by allowing government employees to declare confidentiality of public data up to the top-secret level, which makes documents unavailable for 25 years (Folha de S.Paulo, 2019). Until then, this could be done only by the president and vice president, ministers of state, commanders of the armed forces and heads of diplomatic missions abroad. Facing a backlash from civil society, Bolsonaro lost support in Congress to pass that bill and withdraw the resolution a few weeks later. Nonetheless, reports show that the issues regarding FOI requests are growing under his presidency.

Data collected from the Brazilian FOI electronic system by Agência Pública revealed that Federal Government’s denials of requests with the justification of “fishing expedition” increased from 8 in 2018 to 45 in the first year of Bolsonaro’s presidency (Fonseca, 2020). The term “fishing expedition” is pejorative and usually related to secret or non-stated purposes, like using an unrelated investigation or questioning to find evidence to be used against an adversary in a different context. However, according to the Brazilian FOI, the reason behind a request must not be taken into account when deciding to provide information or not.

At the same time, journalists’ perception of difficulties to retrieve information via FOI reached the highest numbers in 2019, when 89% of the interviewed journalists described issues like answers after the legal deadline, missing information, data in closed format, and denial of information (Abraji, 2019). In 2013, 60% reported difficulties, and the number dropped to 57% in 2015.

For example, after more than one year in the office, Bolsonaro’s presidency still refuses to make public the guest list of his inauguration reception. In addition to the guest list, the government keeps in secrecy more than R$ 15 million in expenses made with corporate cards from the Presidency and Vice President’s Office. The confidentiality remains even after a decision by the Supreme Court that overturned the confidentiality in November last year.

More from less

Despite the challenges, Brazilian journalists are following the quantitative turn in the field and creating innovative data-driven projects. As reported by the Brazilian Association of Investigative Journalism (Abraji), at least 1.289 news stories built on data from FOI requests were published from 2012 to 2019. In 2017, the “Ctrl+X” project, which scraped thousands of lawsuits to expose politicians trying to silence journalists in courts, won a prize in the Global Editors’ Data Journalism Awards.

In the following year, G1 won the public choice award with a project that tracked every single murder in the country for a week. The results from the “Violence Monitor” showed a total of 1,195 deaths, one in every eight minutes. However, this project did not rely on FOI requests but on an unprecedented collaboration of 230 journalists employed by the biggest media group in Brazil, Globo. They gathered the data from scratch at police stations all over the country to tell the stories of the victims. Besides that, G1 partnered with Universidade de São Paulo for analysis and launched a campaign on TV and social media so that people could identify some of the victims.

Regardless of the lack of resources, freedom, and safety, these projects show that data journalism can be a tool to rebuild trust from audiences. However, activism to break the resistance to transparency is a challenge even more prominent when opacity seems to be encouraged by institutional actors.

 

About the author

Peter is a journalist trying to explore new media in depth, from everyday digital practices to the undesired consequences of a highly connected environment. After more than 10 years of writing and multimedia reporting for some of the most relevant news outlets in Brazil, he is now second years Research Master’s student in Media Studies at the University of Amsterdam.

 

References

Berliner, Daniel. “The political origins of transparency.” The journal of Politics 76.2 (2014): 479-491.

Borges-Rey, Eddy. “Data Journalism in Latin America: Community, Development and Contestation.” Data Journalism in the Global South. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham, 2019. 257-283.

Coddington, Mark. “Clarifying journalism’s quantitative turn: A typology for evaluating data journalism, computational journalism, and computer-assisted reporting.” Digital journalism 3.3 (2015): 331-348.

De Maeyer, Juliette, et al. “Waiting for data journalism: A qualitative assessment of the anecdotal take-up of data journalism in French-speaking Belgium.” Digital journalism 3.3 (2015): 432-446.

Fonseca, Bruno. Governo Bolsonaro acusa cidadãos de “pescarem” dados ao negar pedidos de informação pública. Agência Pública. 6 Feb, 2020. 

Michener, Gregory, Evelyn Contreras, and Irene Niskier. “From opacity to transparency? Evaluating access to information in Brazil five years later.” Revista de Administração Pública 52.4 (2018): 610-629.

Michener, Gregory, et al. “Googling the requester: Identity‐questing and discrimination in public service provision.” Governance (2019).

Valente, Jonas. “LAI: governo federal recebeu mais de 600 mil pedidos de informação”. Agência Brasil. May 16, 2018. 

Venturini, Lilian. “Se transparência é regra, por que é preciso mandar divulgar salários de juízes?”. Nexo Jornal. São Paulo, 3 Sept. 2017.

Wright, Kate, Rodrigo Zamith, and Saba Bebawi. “Data Journalism beyond Majority World Countries: Challenges and Opportunities.” Digital Journalism 7.9 (2019): 1295-1302.

[BigDataSur] Beyond Touchscreens: The perils of biometric social welfare in lockdown

In the context of COVID-19, what are the perils involved by the perpetuated subordination of social welfare access to biometric identification?

Silvia Masiero

Gradually over the last years, India has introduced biometric identification of users in most of its social welfare schemes. One of the main such schemes is the Public Distribution System (PDS), the nation’s largest food security programme, which provides rationed subsidised commodities to the nation’s poor through a network of ration shops. Biometric access to the PDS is largely operated through Aadhaar, the world’s largest digital identification scheme which provides enrolees with a 12-digit number and capture of biometric credentials (ten fingerprint and iris scans) for recognition. While modalities of identity identification and authentication differ through the country, states that adopted an Aadhaar-enabled PDS require recipients to authenticate through a biometric point-of-sale machine to receive rations.

As a consequence of the COVID-19 crisis, biometric authentication in ration shops has been suspended in several Indian states. A commonly given reason for this is the risk of disease transmission associated to users’ fingerprint contact with the machine, which falls under the broader remit of social distancing measures taken within the ongoing pandemic. The Indian case epitomises, however, a global trend of transition to biometric identification in anti-poverty programmes, programmes that – in the light of very serious effects of the COVID-19 crisis on vulnerable groups – are now more crucial to their recipients than ever. In the context of COVID-19, what are the perils involved by the perpetuated subordination of social welfare access to biometric identification?

The Trade-Offs of Digital Identity

With reference to the use of biometrics in India’s social welfare system, many researchers have highlighted the dichotomy between an anti-leakage rationale and the exclusionary effects yielded by such technologies. Latest in chronological order, Muralidharan et al. (2020) report on a large-scale experiment conducted in Jharkhand, a state where deaths by starvationdue to failed Aadhaar-enabled authentication of PDS beneficiaries were previously reported. The results of the study reveal a 10 percent reduction in benefits for recipients (23 percent of the total) who had not linked Aadhaar credentials to benefit rolls, with 2.8 percent receiving no benefits at all. Such exclusionary effects mirror previous studies of the Aadhaar-based PDS in the same state, with Drèze et al. (2017) reporting, among others, the anxiety brought in poor people’s lives by the uncertainties of biometrically-enabled foodgrain distribution.

The policy vision behind biometric anti-poverty schemes can be summarised in terms of two different types of error being tackled. In targeted welfare schemes, an exclusion error means the exclusion of genuinely entitled subjects, while an inclusion error indicates the erroneous inclusion of non-entitled subjects into provision. By matching biometric records (collected through databases such as Aadhaar) with records of recipients’ entitlements, biometric anti-poverty schemes promise to maximise the affordance of proper targeting, offering credentials to the excluded and preventing access to the erroneously included. This rationale lies at the basis not only of the global proliferation of digital identity schemes, but of their ever-increasing incorporation in anti-poverty programmes, of which the Aadhaar-enabled Indian system constitutes a notable example.

A ration shop in Tumkur, Karnataka, April 2018

But the reality revealed by extant research, including our previous work on the Karnataka PDS, differs from the orthodoxy of good targeting. First, as illustrated most recently by Hundal et al. (2020), requiring biometric identification at the ration shop does not prevent diversion, because the system affords recording successful disbursement even if rations are not provided as per eligibility. Second, there is a trade-off between anti-leakage affordances–in the form of accurate recognition at the point of sale–and the repeated exclusions of entitled beneficiaries, for reasons that range from machines’ malfunctioning to issues of fingerprint readability reported to affect, in particular, the elderly and those in manual labour. In the Aadhaar-enabled PDS, the need for multiple fragile technologies to work at the same time, as highlighted by Jean Drèze, poses a problem of practical feasibility of the system, which is crucial to those parts of the country that are most subjected to infrastructural issues. While inclusion errors are at least in principle targeted by the rationale of biometrics, exclusions keep happening, and put into serious predicament a social welfare system that should cover exactly the most vulnerable groups.

COVID-19: A Reshuffling of Priorities

In the midst of the ongoing crisis, many studies are being conducted on the effects of COVID-19 on health infrastructures and, crucially here, economic vulnerabilities in the Global South. Studies of factory workers, gig-workers and low-income households all point in the same direction: the economic impact brought by national lockdowns is disproportionally affecting the poor and vulnerable, large proportions of whom are recipients of social welfare systems. Where such systems have limited reach or are not available, measures of immediate assistance are invoked, such as the provision of universal basic income or emergency social safety nets. In the Indian PDS, the promise of doubling foodgrain rationsalong with providing extra commodities increases the scheme’s cruciality, in a situation in which new vulnerabilities–such as that of migrant workers exposed to distress and food insecurity–have emerged in the wake of lockdown.

In these times of heightened crisis, severely affecting the users of anti-poverty schemes, the exclusion errors induced by mandatory biometric access are a risk that social protection schemes cannot afford to take. While the incorporation of biometrics is purposefully designed to improve targeting, the crisis poses us in front of the priority of reaching out to the most affected, adapting systems in such a way that biometric recognition–or its digital equivalents–are suspended at the very least. While the problem of touchscreen-induced disease transmission is in itself a valid reason for doing so, the inclusion-exclusion trade-off illustrated here equally poses a problem that needs consideration. As systems are adapted to coping with the COVID-19 crisis, the need for assisting the affected needs to prevail on the stringent adoption of biometric credentials.

Photo: A ration shop in Tumkur, Karnataka, April 2018

 

[BigDataSur] A widening data divide: COVID-19 and the Global South

COVID-19 shows the need for a global alliance of experts who can fast-track the capacity building of developing countries in the business of counting.

Stefania Milan & Emiliano Treré

The COVID-19 pandemic is sweeping the world. First identified in mainland China in December 2019, it has rapidly reached the four corners of the globe, to the point that the only “corona-free” land is reportedly Antarctica. News reports globally are filled with numbers and figures of various kinds. We count the number of tests, we follow the rise of the total individuals who tested positive to the virus, we mourn the dead looking at the daily death toll. These numbers are deeply ingrained in their socio-economic and political geography, as the virus follows distinct diffusion curves, but also because distinct countries and institutions count differently (and often these distinct ways of counting are not even made apparent). What is clear is that what gets counted exists, in both state policies and people’s imaginaries. Numbers affect our ability to care, share empathy, and donate to relief efforts and emergency services. Numbers are the condition of existence of the problem, and of a country or given social reality on the global map of concerns. Yet most countries from the so-called Global South are virtually absent from this number-based narration of the pandemic. Why, and with what consequences?

Data availability and statistical capacity in developing countries

If numbers are the conditions of existence of the COVID-19 problem, we ought to pay attention to the actual (in)ability of many countries in the South to test their population for the virus, and to produce reliable population statistics more in general–let alone to adequately care for them. It is a matter of a “data gap” as well as of data quality, which even in “normal” times hinders the need for “evidence-based policy making, tracking progress and development, and increasing government accountability” (Chen et al., 2013). And while the World Health Organization issues warning about the “dramatic situation” concerning the spread of COVID-19 in the African continent, to name just one of the blind spots of our datasets of the global pandemic, the World Economic Forum calls for “flattening the curve” in developing countries. Progress has been made following the revision of the United Nations’ Millennium Development Goals in 2005, with countries in the Global South have been invited (and supported) to devise National Strategies for the Development of Statistics. Yet, a cursory look at the NYU GovLab’s valuable repository of data collaboratives” addressing the COVID-19 pandemic reveals the virtual absence of data collection and monitoring projects in the South of the emisphere. The next obvious step is the dangerous equation “no data=no problem”. 

Disease and “whiteness”

Epidemiology and pharmacogenetics (i.e. the study of the genetic basis of how people respond to pharmaceuticals), to name but a few amongst the number of concerned life sciences, are largely based on the “inclusion of white/Caucasians in studies and the exclusion of other ethnic groups” (Tutton, 2007). In other words, modeling of disease evolution and the related solutions are based on datasets that take into account primarily–and in fact almost exclusively–the caucasian population. This is a known problem in the field, which derives from the “assumption that a Black person could be thought of as being White”, dismissing specificities and differences. This problem has been linked to the “lack of social theory development, due mainly to the reluctance of epidemiologists to think about social mechanisms (e.g., racial exploitation)” (Muntaner, 1999, p. 121). While COVID-19 represents a slight variation on this trend, having been first identified in China, the problem on the large scale remains. And in times of a health emergency as global as this one, risks to be reinforced and perpetuated.

A succulent market for the industry

In the lack of national testing capacity, the developing world might fall prey to the blooming industry of genetic and disease testing, on the one hand, and of telecom-enabled population monitoring on the other. Private companies might be able to fill the gap left by the state, mapping populations at risk–while however monetizing their data. The case of 23andme is symptomatic of this rise of industry-led testing, which constitutes a double-edge sword. On the one hand, private actors might supply key services that resource-poor or failing states are unable to provide. On the other hand, however, the distorted and often hidden agendas of profit-led players reveals its shortcomings and dangers. If we look at the telecom industry, we note how it has contributed to track disease propagation in a number of health emergencies such as Ebola. And if the global open data community has called for smoother data exchange between the private and the public sector to collectively address the spread of the virus,in the absence of adequate regulatory frameworks in the Global South, for example in the field of privacy and data retention, local authorities might fall prey to outside interventions of dubious nature. 

The populism and racism factors

Lack of reliable numbers to accurately portray the COVID-19 pandemic as it spreads to the Southern hemisphere also offers fertile ground to distorted and malicious narratives mobilized for political reasons. To name just one, it allows populist leaders like Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro to announce the “return to normality” in the country, dismissing the harsh reality as a collective “hysteria”. In Italy, the ‘fake news’ that migrant populations of African origin would be “immune” to the disease sweeped social media, unleashing racist comments and anti-migrant calls for action. While the same rumor that has reportedly been circulating in the African continent as well and populism has been hitting hard in Western democracies as well, it might be have more dramatic consequences in the more populous countries of the South. In Mexico, left-wing populist president Andrés Manuel López Obrador responded to the coronavirus emergency insisting that Mexicans should “keep living life as usual”. He did not stop his tour in the south of the country and frequently contradicted the advice of public health officials, systematically ignoring social distancing by touching, hugging and kissing his supporters and going as far as considering the pandemic as a plot to derail his presidency. These dangerous comments, assumptions and attitudes are a byproduct of the lack of reliable data and testing that we signal in this article. 

The risk of universalising the problem

Luckily, the long experience and harsh familiarity in coping with disasters, catastrophes and emergencies has also prompted various countries from the Global South to deploy effective measures of containment more quickly than many countries in the Global North. 

In the lack of reliable data from the South, however, modeling the diffusion of the disease might be difficult. The temptation will likely be to ”import” models and “appropriate” predictions from other countries and socio-economic realities, and then base domestic measures and policies on them. “Universalizing” the problem as well as the solutions, as we warned in a 2019 article, is tempting, especially in these times of global uncertainty. Universalizing entails erroneously thinking that the problem manifests itself in exactly the same manner everywhere, disregarding local features to “other” approaches. Coupled with the “whiteness” observed earlier, this gives rise to an explosive cocktail that is likely to create more problems than it solves. 

Beyond the blind spot? 

While many have enough to worry about “at home”, the largest portion of the world population today resides in the so-called Global South, with all the very concrete challenges of the situation. For instance, for a good portion of the 1,3 billion Indian citizens now on lockdown, staying at home might mean starving. How can the global community–open data experts, researchers, life science scholars, digital rights activists, to name but a few–contribute to “fix” the widening data divide that risks severely weakening any local effort to curb the expansion of COVID-19 to populations that are often already at the margins? We argue that the issue at stake here is not simply whether we pump in the much-needed resources or how we collaborate, but it is also a matter of where do we turn the eye–in other words, where we decide to look. COVID-19 will likely make apparents the need of a global alliance of experts of various kinds who, jointly with civil society organizations, can fast-track the capacity building of developing countries in the business of counting. 

This article has been published simultaneously on the the Big Data from the South blog and on Open Movements / Open Democracy.

Cover image credits: Martin Sanchez on Unsplash

Acknowledgements. This project has received funding from the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme (grant agreement No 639379-DATACTIVE; https://data-activism.net).

[BigDataSur] Cuba y su ecosistema de redes después de la revolución

Por: Yery Menéndez García y Jessica Domínguez.

En Cuba la información, la comunicación y los datos son “recursos estratégicos del estado” [1] y “asunto de seguridad nacional” [2]. En la práctica, pero también en la mayoría de los documentos normativos del país, queda establecida la propiedad estatal sobre el capital simbólico de la nación.

A lo anterior se suman niveles de acceso y existencia de plataformas de redes telemáticas considerados entre los más bajos del planeta, importantes restricciones internacionales para el acceso a infraestructura, financiamientos, circuitos de telecomunicaciones y conectividad, y la existencia de programas que usan las TICS para intentar desestabilizar abiertamente al gobierno cubano.

Ante este contexto, y debido a los altos precios de conexión, grupos ciudadanos desarrollan prácticas de circulación de información que se adaptan a un contexto híbrido (off-on line). Estas iniciativas asumen un carácter autónomo, deslocalizado y auto gestionado e intentan satisfacer demandas diarias fuera de los mecanismos del estado. Algunas de las más relevantes en los últimos diez años son:

  1. Nuevos medios alternativos de comunicación

Un grupo de jóvenes periodistas graduados de universidades cubanas y otros profesionales están utilizando un grupo de recursos socio-técnicos para generar otras matrices de información.

Estas nuevas plataformas de información de interés público vienen a llenar vacíos dejado por los medios oficiales, únicos permitidos de existir. Algunos actúan como proyectos sombrilla o repositorios, albergando otras iniciativas ciudadanas de información.

Durante diez años y ante carencias de acceso a redes para resolver cuestiones infraestructurales, de fortalecimiento de capacidades y de acceso a fuentes, estas iniciativas han desarrollado formas de gestión creativas e innovadoras en concordancia con las más recientes tendencias globales.

A pesar de esto, la principal fuente de financiamiento de estos proyectos continúa siendo donaciones y becas provenientes de organizaciones internacionales. Este sigue siendo el principal punto de ataque usado para desacreditarlos por representantes del gobierno.

Entre los más relevantes y reconocidos se encuentran:

  • On Cuba, una plataforma en inglés y español dirigida, sobre todo a la comunidad cubana emigrada.
  • El Toque, un medio generalista, enfocado principalmente a los jóvenes y gestionado por jóvenes que cuenta historias de ciudadanía. El Toque pertenece a un grupo mayor de “emprendimientos de comunicación” reunidos dentro del Colectivo +Voces y que incluye también una radio digital llamada “El Enjambre” y un suplemento de humor gráfico, Xel2.
  • Periodismo de Barrio, una revista dedicada a tratar temas medioambientales y vulnerabilidades sociales.
  • El Estornudo, medio especializado en periodismo literario.
  • Joven Cuba y La Tizza, ambos son blogs colaborativos para promover el debate político.

Todos estos medios tienen como principal forma de socialización sus portales online. Pero desde que la distribución de formatos impresos es prohibida por el código penal cubano y el acceso online es caro, estos medios han tenido que innovar en sus interacciones con sus comunidades. La manera fundamental que han encontrado es la creación de una base de datos que se descarga una vez por semana. Con la base de datos descargada se actualiza la aplicación móvil de los sitios y desde entonces se puede acceder a todo el contenido offline.

Existe una clara diferencia entre estos medios y los medios abiertamente opuestos al gobierno de la isla. Los primeros están enfocados en producir información fuera de la égida del departamento ideológico del Partido Comunista de Cuba, estructura encargada de regular toda la producción simbólica del país, mientras los segundos subordinan la información que producen a su activismo político.

  1. El paquete semanal

El paquete es un producto-servicio que capitaliza redes sociales ya desarrolladas y las extiende. Si bien el objetivo final de esta expresión socio-técnica es el lucro y no la práctica de sentido de ciudadanía, si vale la pena comprender como esas redes de datos interactúan con redes sociales y como son producidas socialmente.

Dentro del paquete se recopila alrededor de 1 terabyte de contenido pirata, semana por semana. Este contenido se descarga de internet desde diferentes nodos o matrices que todo el mundo conoce, pero que permanecen ocultas, como secretos a voces. Una vez descargado el contenido, se entrega a un grupo de personas que a su vez, lo distribuyen mediante discos extraíbles a otras ciudadanos y así sucesivamente, por módicos precios.

De esta manera, en una especie de bola de nieve, los cubanos tienen acceso a internet offline y se mantienen actualizados de todo cuanto acontece en materia de información. Los contenidos del paquete incluyen desde cine hasta publicidad no permitida en los canales oficiales cubanos; desde música hasta bases de datos de otras plataformas de todo tipo. El paquete semanal es la principal forma de distribución de los medios y revistas mencionados anteriormente y de otros tantos, religiosos, humorísticos y políticos que no tienen otros espacios donde posicionarse.

La mejor descripción para el paquete es la de fenómeno híbrido de socialización de datos que media entre interacciones sociales no dependientes de algoritmos. Para la realidad semi-conectada de Cuba, el paquete semanal es hoy el recurso de distribución más popular y asequible. Y aunque no es legal, su carácter reticular, su distribución por nodos y de mano a mano y la calidad en la gestión y jerarquización de sus contenidos, hace imposible para las autoridades detenerlo completamente.

  1. The Street Network

La SNET (Street Network, por sus siglas en inglés) o Red de la calle, fue otra popular experiencia de distribución de contenidos y de creación de comunidades que, a diferencia del paquete, no tenía ánimo de lucro. En esta red, conectada por cables y Wi-Fi, sus “miembros” comenzaron a agruparse en nodos por toda la Habana con la intención de jugar partidas online. Con el paso del tiempo, la SNET fue creciendo y perfeccionando en estructura y organización, llegando a otras provincias del país. Y su objetivo primario pasó de ser el espacio de la comunidad gamer cubana a convertirse en un esquema para la generación de prácticas conectadas de ciudadanía mediadas por software.

La SNET, a pesar de ser un tejido ilegal, desarrolló un complejo sistema jerárquico, principios y éticas de funcionamiento bien establecidas, llegando a desplegar un nivel de infraestructura de red nunca antes visto, fuera de los márgenes del estado.

Convertida en un verdadero movimiento de activismo de datos, en 2019 el gobierno trató de institucionalizarla dentro de los Jóvenes Clubs de Computación y Electrónica. Este intento de cooptar la iniciativa generó protestas y demostraciones públicas que llevaron al gobierno, por primera vez, a sostener diálogos y llegar a consenso con los representantes de los nodos de SNET. A pesar de los acuerdos entre ambas partes, la red está hoy casi extinta.

  1. Articulaciones ciudadanas en redes sociales

En enero del pasado 2019 un tornado azotó la Habana devastando el ya vetusto fondo habitacional de la capital cubana. Luego de este fenómeno natural, una oleada de ciudadanos organizados congregaron a cubanos residentes y emigrados para brindar ayuda a los necesitados. Convocándose principalmente mediante Facebook, se crearon directorios colaborativos con los contactos de aquellos dispuestos a ayudar, bases de datos abiertas con los nombres y datos demográficos de los más necesitados e iniciativas de mapping para localizar los lugares donde fue mayor el daño.

Esta iniciativa fue, en su mayoría, impulsada por jóvenes profesionales y artistas. El nivel de movilización demostrado superó a las capacidades del estado, el que una vez más trató de institucionalizar las ayudas. En este caso, el movimiento siguió operando paralelo a los esfuerzos estatales y solo concluyó una vez que la mayoría de las personas afectadas recibieran kits básicos de apoyo.

  1. Plataformas comerciales

También existe una extensiva red de repositorios comerciales colaborativos como Revolico.com que intentan generar una alternativa dinámica al desprovisto mercado oficial. En estos repositorios se crea, gestiona, jerarquiza, recupera y socializa información referente a bienes y servicios que son adquiridos con otros bienes y servicios, moderados por reglas que toda la comunidad que utiliza la plataforma debe seguir.

En una situación de a-legalidad conviven estas comunidades de interpretación, creación y resistencia ante la información estatalizada. Ante un estado centralizador, estas nuevas relaciones sociales de producción dirigidas a llenar vacíos de sentidos que no pueden ser llenados de otra manera, mediadas o no por algoritmos; representan hoy alternativas cada vez más articuladas, populares y endógenas y de eso depende enteramente su supervivencia.

[1] Lineamientos de la política social del Estado (PCC, 2011, updated in 2016)

[2] Decreto Ley 370 de MInisterio de Información y Comunicaciones

Biografía 

Yery Menéndez García es periodista y profesora de la Facultad de Comunicación de la Universidad de La Habana. MA in Media Practice for Development and Social Change por la Universidad de Sussex en Reino Unido. Gestora de Audiencias en el medio independiente cubano El Toque.

[BigData Sur] Exploring Facebook’s role in Ethiopia’s rising ethnic tensions

by Syver Petersen

As the world’s most widely used social media platform, Facebook has become a vehicle for extreme political forces and a breeding ground for pernicious stories bent on instigating conflict among groups. In Myanmar for example, an independent United Nations Human Rights Council Fact-Finding Mission found that Facebook played a ‘determining role’ in the recent mass atrocities committed against Rohingya people. Parallel to this, Facebook seeks to expand its userbase in the Global South(s) and, underpinned by modernisation narratives it proclaims its services as supportive of international development agendas.

In Ethiopia, recent ethnic conflict and resulting mass displacement are being linked to social media disinformation and hate speech. This blog reflects on my research on the role of Facebook in this politically polarised and culturally diverse country, with more than 80 languages and ethnic groups and undergoing a historical political transition.

Background

In Africa’s second most populous country, ethnic-based violence has sharply risen in the last couple of years. Since Prime Minister and recent Nobel Peace Prize Laurate Dr. Abiy Ahmed took office in early 2018 Ethiopians have experienced a small ‘political revolution’. The Ethiopian government has gone from using widespread authoritarian practices to releasing political prisoners and journalists, even inviting back previously banned opposition groups.

However, in terms of ethnic relations, political commentators have referred to the opening the political space as taking the lid off a pressure cooker. Mass protest and violence has left more than a thousand dead, and in 2018 close to thee million were displaced due to ethnic conflict and violence, the largest increase in internal displacement globally that year.

Broadly speaking, ethnicity has been and still is one of the most important identities structuring the Ethiopian society. Especially since the fall of the ‘communist’ Derg regime in 1991, ethnic identity has been intentionally emphasised and promoted by the ruling political elites, and the country’s administrational regions were re-organised along ethnic lines. This only further entangled ethnic identity and politics.

The government largely assigns blame to social media for the recent ethnic turmoil. Upon receiving the Nobel Peace Prize, Prime Minster Abiy Ahmed stated that “The evangelists of hate and division are wreaking havoc in our society using social media”. Although social media cannot take full responsibility for the current situation, there is no doubt it plays an important role in shaping political discourse.  

In a context where neighbours kill each other on the basis of ethnic identity, and ethnic tension has the very real potential spin out of control, the potentially conflict-inducing effects of social media is an urgent issue. 

As has been noted in other countriesfilter-bubbles, as a result of algorithms personalising online experiences such as the Facebook News Feed, can trap individuals and groups in a state of intellectual isolation. This can reinforce already held viewpoints without challenging them, encouraging partisanship and tribalism. In the highly polarised situation Ethiopia finds itself, I believe this phenomenon merits particular concern. As speech aimed at creating suspicion, spreading fear and encouraging violence, increasingly circulates on Facebook in Ethiopia, Facebook’s personalised algorithmic filtering might further polarise ethnic relations.

Furthermore, in August 2020, Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed plans to hold Ethiopia’s first ‘free and fair’ election since 2005. As the election approaches, the ethnic-based tension and conflict has taken centre stage and the challenge poses a real threat to the country’s political stability. 

Social media use in Ethiopia

Ethiopians using social media are a subset of a subset of another subset–those who have access to electricity, those who have access to the internet and finally those who have accounts on social media. This group is estimated to be only 6 percent of the population. Much of the ethnic-based violence occurs in areas where even electricity is scarce, let alone internet access, like in the case of Guji-Gedeo in Southern Ethiopia, where recent conflicts have displaced close to one million people. Despite this, Ethiopia has one of the world’s fastest growing social media user rates, and social media are becoming increasingly important especially among the massive youth population. Furthermore, through word of mouth, which is still the main source of news for many Ethiopians, social media content appears to reach far beyond the fraction of the population with direct access to social media services. 

My research

As a case for exploring how Facebook influences Ethiopian ethnic-based conflict, I will study its role in recent conflicts between students at the Debre Berhan University, situated in central Ethiopia, about 120 kilometres North-East of the capital Addis Ababa.

Ethiopian universities have long been a hotspot for ethnic riots and violence. In Debre Berhan University, two dormitories were set on fire and a student was killed just off campus last year. Both incidents are suspected to be connected to the wider ethnic conflicts around the country. 

The potentially divisive effects of personalisation algorithms have sparked debates across various scientific disciplines. Some claim that effects are negligible while others highlight them as determining. My study seeks to contribute to this debate by exploring filter-bubble effects in the Facebook News Feed, but also how the students in this specific socio-cultural context relate to and are influenced by their social media information diets.

In order to get access to the student’s personalised Facebook News Feeds, I have asked participants, in their presence, to share access to their social media accounts. I have then used the facebook.tracking.exposed web browser extension– developed as part of the Algorithms Exposed project, a DATACTIVE spin-off– to collect, sort and analyse content from the student’s News Feeds. The idea is to compare the information diets of students from the two main conflicting groups. This will hopefully reveal the extent of filter bubbles, as well as what content participants are actually exposed by the News Feed algorithm. 

As Facebook aggressively expands into new market territory, critical engagement with its context-specific societal effects is pivotal. This is particularly urgent in the context of the fragile Ethiopian political situation, where there is a pressing need for more knowledge about the role of social media in mediating ethnic conflict. 

Syver Petersen

Syver is studying a MSc in International Development Studies at the University of Amsterdam. His academic interests are oriented around how digital technology and big data impact power relations, political engagement and conflicts in the Global South(s). 

New Paper Out: Institutional Resistance To Transparency

Guillén published a paper in the latest number of the Journal Of Resistance Studies. You can download a pre-print version of it here. And read the abstract here:

Despite the popularization of progressive Freedom of Information and Open Data policies, both transparency practitioners and academia have warned about an increase in attempts to control and reduce the information that flows from the state to citizens. Within the literature dedicated to investigate this phenomenon, the notion of resistance to transparency has been used often to characterize instances of problematic governmental information control. However, within this body of research, the concept of resistance has been stripped of its contentious elements and treated as a synonym of reluctance, unwillingness or foot-dragging, rather than a category with an inherent political dimension. As a result, what is institutional resistance to transparency and what are its political consequences remains vague. Drawing from the theoretical toolbox of the fields of Resistance Studies and Science and Technology Studies, this paper explores the politics of institutional resistance to transparency through a case study of Mexican information activists. By focusing on activists’ experiences, I suggest that institutional resistance originates in how transparency mechanisms allow some citizens to make the state more legible, controllable, and accountable. Furthermore, I argue that institutional resistance is carried out mostly through everyday, subtle, seemingly non-political strategies implemented by the state’s institutions, which reduce citizens’ ability to produce and/or process data regarding governmental action.

[BigDataSur] El Sur Global podría nacionalizar sus datos

Por Ulises Alí Mejías

(An English version of this article appeared in Al Jazeera on December 2019)

Introducción 

Las grandes empresas de tecnología están extrayendo datos de sus usuarios en todo el mundo, sin pagarles por éstos. Es hora de cambiar esta situación.

Abstract

Big tech corporations are extracting data from users across the world without paying for it. This process can be called “data colonialism”: a new resource-grab whereby human life itself has become a direct input into economic production. Instead of solutions that seek to solve the problem by paying individuals for their data, it makes much more sense for countries to take advantage of their scale and take the bold step to declare data a national resource, nationalise it, and demand that companies like Facebook and Google pay for using this resource so its exploitation primarily benefits the citizens of that country.

Nacionalización de datos 

El reciente golpe de estado en Bolivia nos recuerda que los países pobres, pero que son ricos en recursos naturales, continúan siendo plagados por el legado del colonialismo. Cualquier iniciativa que pretenda obstruir la capacidad de las compañías extranjeras para extraer recursos de manera barata se arriesga a ser prontamente eliminada.

Hoy, aparte de los minerales y el petróleo que abunda en algunos rincones del continente, las empresas están persiguiendo otro tipo de recurso, uno que quizás es más valioso: los datos personales. Al igual que los recursos naturales, los datos personales se han convertido en el blanco de ejercicios extractivos llevados a cabo por el sector dedicado a la tecnología.

Como el sociólogo Nick Couldry y yo hemos argumentado en nuestro libro, Los costos de la conexión (The Cost of Connection: How data is Colonizing Human Life and Appropriating It for Capitalism – Stanford University Press), hay un nuevo tipo de colonialismo emergiendo en el mundo de hoy: el colonialismo de los datos. Con este término queremos sugerir que estamos observando una nueva ola de apropiación de recursos en la cual la vida human en sí misma, expresada en los datos extraídos desde los mismos usuarios, se convierte en una aportación directa a la producción económica.

Reconocemos que este concepto puede resultar controversial dada la extrema violencia física y las estructuras aún presentes del racismo colonial histórico. Pero no queremos decir que el colonialismo de datos es igual al colonialismo histórico. Más bien, que la función esencial del colonialismo es justamente la misma. Esa función fue -y sigue siendo- la extracción, la explotación, y la apropiación de nuestros recursos.

Como el colonialismo clásico, el colonialismo de datos va transformando violentamente las relaciones sociales en elementos de producción económica. Elementos como la tierra, el agua, y otros recursos naturales fueron valuados por los primeros pueblos en la era precolonial, pero no de la misma manera que los colonizadores -y más tarde los capitalistas- llegaron a valorarlos, es decir, como una propiedad privada. De la misma manera, estamos viviendo en una situación en la que cosas que antes estaban fuera de la esfera económica -tales como las interacciones privadas con nuestros amigos y familiares, o nuestros archivos médicos- ahora han sido privatizadas y convertidas en parte del ciclo económico de la extracción de datos. Un ciclo que claramente beneficia principalmente a unas cuantas grandes empresas.

¿Pero qué pueden hacer los países de este “Sur Global” para evitar la explotación del colonialismo de datos?

Soluciones para el Sur Global

Una clara opción para este conjunto de países sería la de promulgar propuestas como las del escritor Jaron Lanier y el candidato presidencial estadounidense Andrew Yang, quienes han sugerido que cada uno de nosotros debería ser remunerado por los datos que producimos, a través de algún mecanismo de compensación. Pero estas propuestas neoliberales que buscan resolver el problema a nivel individual pueden al mismo tiempo diluir el valor de los recursos agregados. Si enfrentamos el problema así, los pagos a los usuarios serán difíciles de calcular, y tal vez muy pequeños.

En vez de esto, es mucho más lógico que los países del Sur Global aprovechen su tamaño y posición en el escenario internacional y tomen el paso audaz de declarar los datos generados por sus ciudadanos como un recursos nacional, demandando que compañías como Facebook o Google paguen por utilizar este recurso. Así, los principales beneficiarios del uso de datos personales serían justamente los ciudadanos que los producen.

Hagamos unos cálculos utilizando a México como un ejemplo: Facebook cuenta con 54.6 millones de usuarios en este país. En promedio, cada usuario global produce para Facebook $25 dólares al año en ganancias, lo que representa alrededor de $1.4 billones de dólares que la compañía se termina embolsando gracias a los mexicanos. Supongamos entonces que México nacionalizara sus datos y por lo tanto demandara quedarse con una parte substancial de esta suma. Y supongamos, ya que estamos haciendo este ejercicio, que arreglos similares se aplicaran al mismo tiempo con compañías como Google, Amazon, TikTok, etc.

Con billones de dólares recuperados a través de la nacionalización de los datos, el gobierno mexicano podría invertir en el desarrollo de campos como la salud, la educación, o la crisis migratoria por la cual atraviesa el país actualmente.

Sin embargo, una cosa es segura: cualquier intento de nacionalizar los datos por los países que conforman el Sur Global se enfrentaría con una intensa oposición. México nacionalizó su petróleo en 1938, gracias a una acción realizada por el presidente Lázaro Cárdenas, hoy considerado un héroe nacional, que enfureció a las compañías extranjeras. Lo anterior resultó en el boicoteo inmediato por parte de Estados Unidos, el Reino Unido, Holanda, y otros países. México solo podría librarse de esta situación por el eventual estallido de la Segunda Guerra Mundial.

También está el ejemplo de Chile. Salvador Allende amenazó en la década de 1970 con nacionalizar el sector telefónico, (que en ese minuto era controlado por la compañía norteamericana International Telephone & Telegraph), así como otras industrias. Antes de que se pudiera llevar a cabo, la CIA organizó un golpe de estado en 1973 que terminó con la muerte de Allende y una dictadura que duraría hasta 1990.

Y a Evo Morales, que experimentó con formas blandas de nacionalización que beneficiaron a los sectores más pobres de Bolivia mientras que mantenían a los inversionistas extranjeros moderadamente satisfechos, ahora lo han sacado por la fuerza de su país. No ayudó a su causa el hecho de que Morales, en un acto controversial, enmendó la constitución para poder volver postular a la presidencia luego de servir los dos periodos que ya eran permitidos por la ley boliviana.

Cualquiera sea el caso, la derecha en Bolivia y en Estados Unidos hoy están celebrando lo que algunos ven como un desarrollo interesante en la lucha por el control de minerales como el litio o el indio, los cuales son esenciales para la producción de dispositivos electrónicos.

Aún si los países que decidieran nacionalizar sus datos sobrevivieran a la represalia esperada, la nacionalización de datos no pondría fin a la raíz del problema; la normalización y legitimación de las extracción de información que ya se encuentra en proceso.

El futuro de la nacionalización de datos 

La nacionalización de datos no detendrá necesariamente la colonización que vive la región. Por eso, es una medida que debe ser pensada y entendida como una respuesta limitada a un problema mayor. Este es la razón por la cual la nacionalización de datos debe tener como objetivo final la separación de la economía del Sur Global de esta nueva especie de colonialismo.

La riqueza recuperada podría utilizarse también para desarrollar infraestructuras públicas que brinden versiones menos invasivas o explotadoras de los servicios ofrecidos por las grandes compañías tecnológicas de China y Estados Unidos. Parece difícil imaginar hoy algunas de estas alternativas, pero ya existen modelos que el Sur Global podría adoptar para desarrollar servicios que respeten la privacidad del individuo y no abusen del deseo humano de socializar.

Para evitar la corrupción y la mala administración, la sociedad civil deberá estar directamente involucrada en la toma de decisiones sobre el futuro de esta riqueza, incluyendo la capacidad de bloquear aplicaciones y usos abusivos de parte de compañías extranjeras sobre los datos generados por ciudadanos. Son, después de todos, sus datos, y es el público el que deberá tener un asiento en la mesa cuando se decida de qué manera se pueden ocupar esos recursos.

La propuesta de nacionalización de datos, aunque parezca inalcanzable y poco práctica, nos obliga por los menos a cuestionar la extracción de datos que continúa de manera indiscutible, a veces bajo el pretexto de que es un tipo de progreso que nos beneficia a todos.