We need to pay more for journalism. A lot more.

I'm going to say a few obvious things, and then then a few unobvious things, about the business model for news publishing.

Obvious thing #1: One of the most consequential facts of the Internet age is that news content has become free of charge. We all watched in morbid fascination in the 1990s and 00s when news came out from behind paywalls. What will this do to the business model? we wondered. How will news publishers survive and flourish?

Obvious thing #2: None of them flourished, and many didn't survive. One of the worst industries to get into these days is journalism. Major news organizations have never stopped hemorrhaging jobs. I feel sorry for my journalist friends, and I'm glad there are some who still have jobs. There are quite a few desperate journalists out there; I don't blame them.

Obvious thing #3: There are two main business models for news publishing: advertising and subscription. I'm not familiar with the statistics, but it seems obvious that most news that is read is supported by advertising. Note, I don't say that most money that is made, or the best news available, comes from advertising. I'm just saying that if you add up all the news pageviews supported by ads, and compare it to the news pageviews supported by subscriptions, you'd find a lot more of the former.

I'm done boring you with the obvious. Now something perhaps a little less obvious: Desperate journalists, whose jobs depend on sheer pageviews because that's how you pay the bills, are desperate to write clickbait. Standards have gone out the window because standards don't pay the bills. Objectivity and fact-checking are undervalued; speed and dramatic flair are "better" because they drive traffic and save jobs. But even this is pretty much just the conventional wisdom about what's going on in journalism. It's very sad.

As long as the business of journalism is paid for by ads, it won't be journalism.

It will be clickbait.

If you look at the line of reasoning above, however, you might notice something remarkable. At least, it struck me. It is the simple fact that the news is free of charge that led almost inevitably to a decline in standards. This lowering of standards has even affected more serious reporting that can only be found behind paywalls, in my opinion.

I remember keynoting a publishers' conference in 2007, and many people were asking: "The Internet is threatening our business models. How do we solve this problem?" I suppose they thought I'd have a bright idea because I had managed to build something interesting on a shoestring; but I didn't have any. Since then, as far as I can see, news publishing hasn't gotten any farther along. I haven't had or encountered any fantastic new ideas for getting journalists paid to do excellent work.

As long as the business of journalism is paid for by ads, it won't be journalism.

It will be clickbait.

If you want to support real journalism, with real standards, consider subscribing to a publication that you think practices it, or comes as close to it as possible. It's on us, the public.

But that's lame. You thought I was going to stop there? If so, you don't really know me. Journalism never was very good. Standards have dropped, that's for sure; but we should look back and recognize that they never were terribly high in the first place. What we really need are journalists who recognize just how elusive the entire, nuanced truth really is. (Maybe require them to have had a few philosophy courses.) And we need publishers who demand not just good traditional journalism but neutrality, in the sense I defined in an essay ("Why Neutrality?"):

A disputed topic is treated neutrally if each viewpoint about it is not asserted but rather presented (1) as sympathetically as possible, bearing in mind that other, competing views must be represented as well, and (2) with an equitable amount of space being allotted to each, whatever that might be.

This standard, it turns out (as laid out in my paper), is pretty hard-core. But following it would solve many of the problems we've had. The extra work meeting such a high standard would cost more to produce. But I think enough people care enough about their own intellectual autonomy that they would pay a significant premium for truly neutral news reporting with unusually high standards, above and beyond the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal.

I know I would.


How to stop using social media

Updated January 28, 2019.

It's no longer a matter of whether—it's a matter of how.

It's sad, but for social media addicts, quitting seems to require a strategy. By now, some of us who have tried and failed know that it is simply unrealistic to say, "I'm going to quit social media," and then just do it. There are reasons we got into it and why it exerts its pull. We must come to grips with those reasons and see what—if anything—we can do to mitigate them.

Why we participate in social media, and why we shouldn't

We participate in social media because we love it; but we want to quit, because we also hate it.

Why we love social media

  1. Social visibility. Active users of social media want social visibility. We want to be understood. We want to be connected with others who understand us, respect us, or like us.
  2. Staying plugged in. So much of social and political life seems to have moved onto social media, we simply won't know what's going on if we quit.
  3. Political influence. Unless we have entirely given up on political participation, we want to "have a voice," to play the game of politics.
  4. Ambition and narcissism. Quite apart from 1 and 2, we are drawn to platforms particularly like Twitter and LinkedIn because we think these accounts will advance our careers. We follow and are followed by Important People, we stay in touch with them. This is where valuable connections and deals can be made.
  5. Staying connected to family and friends. Golly, your family and friends are on Facebook. You really do have fun with them. How could you give it up, even if you wanted to? You don't want to miss out, of course.

We've tasted the forbidden fruit. We surely aren't giving up the clear advantages that social media offer. That ain't gonna happen.

The fear of missing out—that lies at the root of all five reasons. If you leave any of the networks, you just won't be seen. It'll be like you're invisible. If you leave Twitter, you won't really know what's going on in the world's most influential news and opinion network, and you will be leaving the field wide open to your political enemies. If you leave Twitter and LinkedIn, your career might take a blow; how could you possibly justify just giving up all those followers you worked so hard to get? And if you leave Facebook, you might be cutting yourself off from your family and friends—how could you do such a thing?

So, look. We've tasted the forbidden fruit. We surely aren't giving up the clear advantages that social media offer. That ain't gonna happen.

And yet, and yet. There are reasons we should stop participating in the current configuration of social media. I've written at some length in this blog about those reasons, as follows.

Why we hate social media:

  • We're giving up our privacy and autonomy: By leaving the management of our online social presence in the hands of giant, privacy-disrespecting corporations, our information, even our digital lives, becomes theirs to sell, manipulate, and destroy. We must trust them with the security of our data, which is thrown in with that of billions of others. We must endure the indignities of their control, and the various little ways in which we lose our autonomy because we are part of a giant, well-oiled machine that they run. This is dehumanizing.
  • We're irrationally wasting time: Like most mass-produced, mass-marketed entertainment, social media is mostly crap. Too many of us are basically addicted to it; our continued participation, at least the way we have been doing so, is simply irrational.
  • We're complicit in the dumbing-down and radicalization of society (see also 1, 2, 3, 4). Nick Carr famously said in 2008 that Google is making us stupid. Since then, social media systems have blown up and have made us even dumber. Their key features are responsible for things like (especially) artificially shortened statements of opinion and reflection, having to take special actions to write more than one paragraph, all-or-nothing "upvoting" and "downvoting," and letting posts fall into a hard-to-search memory hole.

What a horrible conundrum. On the one hand, we have terrifically compelling reasons to join and stay connected to social media. On the other hand, doing so shows contempt for our own privacy, autonomy, and rationality, and undermines the intelligence and toleration needed to make democracy work. It is as if the heavy, compelling hand of corporate-driven collectivization is pushing us toward an increasingly totalitarian society.

So what's the solution? Is there a solution?

Non-solutions

Let's talk about a few things that aren't solutions.

You can't just quit cold turkey, not without a plan. If you've been hooked and you try, you'll probably come crawling back, as I have a few times. I'm not saying nobody has ever done so; of course they have. But so many people who say they're giving up or restricting social media do end up coming back, because the draws are tremendous, and the addicts aren't getting their fix elsewhere.

You can't expect "alt-tech" to satisfy you, either. This would include things like Gab.ai instead of Twitter or Facebook, just for example; other examples would include Voat instead of Reddit, BitChute instead of YouTube, Minds instead of Facebook, and the Mastodon network instead of Twitter. For one thing, some (not all) of the alternatives have been flooded by loud, persistent racist/fascist types, or maybe they're just people paid by the tech giants to play-act such types on those platforms. More to the point, though, such sites don't scratch the itches that Facebook and Twitter scratch. At best, they can appeal to your narcissism and provide some social visibility; but this isn't enough for most people. They're not happenin' (yet); they almost certainly won't help your career.

What about blockchain solutions? I, at least, am not satisfied to wait around for awesome crypto solutions, like Steemit, to grow large enough to challenge their main competitors (Medium, in that case). I mean, I probably will join them when more influential and widely-used decentralized platforms show up. The startup I joined a year ago, Everipedia, has plans to develop a platform for hosting a decentralized competitor of Quora. That's exciting. But I want to quit these damn networks now. I don't want to wait any longer.

Even if those are non-solutions, we do, at least, have the requirements for a solution: we want to secure the advantages of the first list above (1)‑(5) without falling prey to the disadvantages of second list (a)‑(c).

The advantages of social media—without social media?

Let's review (1)-(5). I think there may be ways to secure the advantages of privacy-stealing social media. I would really, really appreciate it if you have any other bright ideas about how to secure these advantages, because this is where the rubber meets the road; please share in the comments below.

  1. Social visibility without social media. Social visibility is probably the easiest thing to secure online. If you just want to connect with others and feel heard, there are lots of ways you can do that. So I'm not going to worry too much about that one; I think it will probably take care of itself, if the other advantages are secured.
  2. Staying plugged in without social media. Staying plugged in, too, is very easy. You can simply consume more traditional media, for one thing. Another idea is that you could create throw-away accounts on Twitter or Facebook, for example, and follow the people you were following before. As long as you, yourself, don't actually participate, then you're still more or less as plugged-in as before. But one big disadvantage of that idea is that you might be tempted to get back in because it's just so darned easy to interact with friends and family on Facebook, and to call out or refute the benighted on Twitter. But if you don't use Facebook at all, even to read, you can always stay in touch via email, especially if you use old-fashioned cc email groups or email lists, and you use it, and you manage to get your friends to use it. If you get into the habit, I think they'll get into the habit, too. It is mainly just a matter of habit.
  3. Political influence without social media. Twitter plays an almost unique role in our political discourse, and there is no way to make up the influence you'd have over that community, if you leave it. The question, however, is whether your participation on Twitter really does have that much influence. If it does, then you probably have other ways to get the word out. I have 3,000 followers, which despite being a high percentile but not especially influential. I could throw that away without much hand-wringing. After all, I could easily put in the same amount of time on my blog, or on mailing lists (i.e., listservs), or writing for publication (which I might do more of, but it's kind of a pain in the ass), and I think I might ultimately have more influence, not less. But more on this further down (you can use Twitter in a particular way that I think is OK).
  4. Ambition and narcissism without social media. I don't mean to say that narcissism is a good thing, mind you. I hope I don't much too care about securing the ability to preen more effectively in public. But I have gained a reasonable professional following on Twitter and LinkedIn, and a smaller one on Facebook (mostly because I've mostly used it for actual friends and family). When I came back from my September-October 2018 social media break, I told folks it was because of professional obligations. I thought I would Tweet less, and only about career stuff. But I wasn't serious enough. I was sucked into all the rest of it, too. I can only hope I'd be able to resist the pull. And I can support my "personal brand" (really, my professional brand) via my blog, writing for publication, and perhaps a mailing list; the latter sounds like a good idea (expect an Everipedia email discussion list!). Another idea is to post to Twitter only via some service, and never, ever replying on-site, but instead telling people to look for my replies on my blog.
  5. Staying connected to family and friends without social media. This also strikes me as being particularly easy. I know that my family and my real friends will be happy to write to me by email if I start writing to them, especially if I get into the habit of using email cc lists and maybe, again, mailing lists. We could also use other networks or sharing services that (say they) have more commitment to privacy and self-ownership.

So much for the suggestions. I haven't really discussed whether they're actually feasible qua solutions, so next I'll tackle that.

Evaluating the solutions

A lot of the solutions suggested so far might sound like "rolling back" to older technologies. There's something to that; but I'll also consider some other, privacy-respecting solutions. Besides, the older technologies are still very sound, and the newer social ones that have replaced them are obviously problematic in various ways.

Consuming more traditional media

Like many, as I started spending more time on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube, I started spending less time consuming professionally-produced content. Maybe, the suggestion goes, we should just regard this as something of a mistake. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm a crowdsourcing guy at heart and I hold no brief for the merits of traditional media, especially mainstream media. But insofar as one of the purposes of social media is to clue us in to what's going on, news reports and good blogs can be used. They probably should be, too; when I started Infobitt in 2013, one thing that really struck me was how poorly informed we would be if we just looked at the stuff that came across our social media feeds. I discovered this when I helped to prepare news summaries daily. There were a lot of important news stories that we found that were not widely discussed in social media, or even in most of the mainstream media. You'll probably be better informed if you stop using social media to keep up with the news; of course, your mileage may vary.

Going back to email, cc lists, and listservs

There are many social functions that social media can do, that email and traditional email discussion lists can't, or not as easily. But many of these functions have turned out to be unimportant and not worth preserving.

  • Short public and semi-public back-and-forths. Facebook and Twitter both excel at a kind of communication that is pleasant and easy, usually banal, and rarely profound. If you're actively using these services and occasionally get into rapid-fire discussions about some controversial subject, ask yourself: Is anyone really improved by these exchanges? Again, they're fun. They're hard for me to resist, that's for sure. But when I take a step back and look at them, I have to admit that short messages might be good for marketing, but as a method of public discourse, they're an ultimately insidious and harmful. Advantage: email.
  • Registering instant support or other reaction. If you ask me, this is one of the more obnoxious features of social media, one that addicts us but for no good reason; it merely appeals to our petty egos. There's little useful information conveyed by the fact that a tweet or a post gets a lot of likes, and this also tends to make us "play to the crowd" instead of revealing our most authentic selves. Advantage: email.
  • Memes. They're possible on email, but there's more support for them on social media. They can be funny or rhetorically effective, but they're one of the things that is making us dumber and coarsening our discourse. They're better off gone. Advantage: email.
  • Sharing multimedia. It's true that pictures and especially videos are more difficult to pull off in email and even more so on listservs. Video is neat to share with friends. If I could trust Facebook, I'd be happy to share family videos with family and close friends—I've never been foolish enough to trust them that much. And email has nothing on YouTube. That's why I actually haven't shown my extended family many pictures in the last several years; regrettably, I got out of the habit of one-on-one sharing. Other (and perhaps ultimately superior) methods of sharing multimedia socially among those we trust might be necessary. Advantage: social media.

There are many social functions that social media can do, that email and traditional email discussion lists can't, or not as easily. But many of these functions have turned out to be unimportant and not worth preserving.

And here are the ways in which email, email cc lists, and listservs are perfectly fine, if not superior to social media:

  • Actually communicating personal news and opinion. The main and most important thing we do with Facebook is to share news and opinion. Email is perfect for this. It's a "push" notification in that people can't ignore it. But that pressures the sender to make sure the announcements really are important and aren't just cat pictures, or whatever. (Yes, I know some people love cat pictures. Mostly, though, they love sharing their own cat pictures.)
  • Long-form messages. As my friends know, I sometimes like to go on...and on...and on. This isn't a bad thing. Long-form text is a good thing, a necessary thing for actual intelligence. The ability to easily have our say at a length as great as we please means that those of us with more complex and voluminous thoughts on a subject won't feel we're doing something frowned-upon when we wax, er, eloquent.
  • Threading. Email (whether one-on-one, in small groups, or on a listserv) naturally comes in threads by subject. If you change the subject, you change the email subject line. Easy-peasy, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. As to side-threads, in a whole-group discussion, remember how we did this? We said, "Take it off-list, guys." Sometimes, we did. Sometimes, we recognized that it wasn't worth the bother. And a lot of times, those endless public exhibitions of rhetorical ping-pong really weren't worth the bother.

I'm not meaning to say that we must choose between email and social media, here. I'm saying that email (and listservs) can probably be considered a sound substitute for social media. There are other possible substitutes, too.

Blogs and traditional publishing

I've created a fair bit of value, I imagine, for Quora, Medium, Facebook, and even Twitter, with various long-form posts. I know that what I've written has given them well northwards of a million impressions over the years (I think several million), free of charge. I could have put those posts on my blog, or in some cases cleaned them up a little and submitted them to professionally published websites and magazines. Why did I end up spending so much time on Quora and Medium in particular? (By the way, as of this writing, I've saved my old Medium writings and I have deleted my Medium account. I will do the same with Quora soon.)

In the case of Quora, I joined because it looked like (and was, surely, and to some extent still is) a powerful and successful engine for extracting really interesting opinion and insight from some smart people. My problem with it is the same as the problem I've had with Medium. It's a multi-part problem. First, over the years, the platforms have grown greatly, each a single enormous global community. (Federated sub-communities a la Stack Exchange would be better.) Second, partly as a result of that, they have come to be increasingly dominated by the left. As my regular readers know, I'm a libertarian and an individualist, but all groupthink I find to be a turn-off, especially when my contrarianism is no longer tolerated. Third, the left has become increasingly censorious. I've found my sometimes prickly remarks, once accepted without comment, increasingly censored by "moderators" who rarely explain their often arbitrary-seeming decisions, unlike the more honest and polite older-style listserv moderators.

While censorship is part of the problem I have with these platforms, another part is the fact that I am writing to financially benefit people who set themselves up as my digital masters. This was acceptable to me for a while, as it has been to many of us—mostly, I suppose, because I think it might have gained me a larger and more active audience. In retrospect, however, I'm not so sure. I think that if I had simply stuck with my blog and had written as much there as on Quora and Medium, I would have ultimately had a larger and higher-quality audience.

If I have an important message that I really want to get out there, then I hope I'll try to get it traditionally published more often than I have been.

Will I ditch all social networks? What about alternative social networks?

The big exception will be Twitter; more on that in the next section.

There are some social networks I won't leave. One is Stack Overflow, the question and answer site for programmers. As far as I can tell, it really does seem to respect its audience and to be well-run. I might well be inspired to check out the other Stack Exchange sites. I'll stick around on Reddit for a while, too, at least for work-related stuff. It seems relatively OK.

Messaging services are generally OK—but that, of course, is because you're not the product. I hate Facebook, so I'll stick around on Messenger only as long as my work colleagues use it. I'll tell my friends and family to start using other services, like Slack or the awesome Telegram, if they want to message me. (Of course, good old text messaging is usually my favorite for people who have my phone number, but that's for things that demand an immediate reply.)

I certainly see no reason whatsoever to leave any of the web forums that I occasionally frequent. Web forums are still robust and have few of the problems listed here. I'll consider them over mailing lists, but I think mailing lists are a bit better for meaningful discussions.

I might well consider some alternative networks that respect privacy and practice decentralization more (I intend to study them more; see below). One is Mastodon; another is MeWe. I have great objection to such networks. The problem, as I said above, is that they don't scratch the itch. The root problem is that they don't have critical mass and I can't guarantee that my friends and acquaintances will follow me there. Email is different: everyone has it, everyone uses it.

Even quit Twitter?

After much soul-searching, I decided to keep using Twitter, but only following one strict rule about how I use it: I will not post, retweet, respond to, or like anything else, including my many pet topics, unless I'm promoting something I or a work colleague has written.

I'll just include a Twitter thread I posted:

https://twitter.com/lsanger/status/1089940575946723328

Do I merely want to roll back the clock?

Traditional media, email, listservs, and blogs: Are those really my answer to social media? Do I want to roll back the clock?

At this point, my honest answer is: Not really. I'm actually reluctant to leave social media, because what used to be called "Web 2.0" really does contain some useful inventions. The tweet is excellent for advertising and promotion. Multimedia sharing on YouTube, Facebook, and (if you use it much—I never did) Instagram is very convenient. The moderation engine on StackExchange sites is excellent. I might be able to get behind some variant on the general Facebook theme. I'm very sympathetic to some newer styles of social networks.

Centralization is what we got. That led directly to decisions that degraded our experience in the service of profits and political influence. The centralization of social media has proven to be a blind alley. It's time to turn around and find a new way forward.

It will prove to be the downfall of all of the older, soon-to-be-dying social media giants that, at root, they chose centralization over neutral protocols. They chose to concentrate power in the hands of corporate executives and bureaucracies. That is neither needed nor welcome for purposes of connecting us online; once we knew what we wanted, Internet protocols could have been invented to deliver them to us in a decentralized way. But that would have made the platforms much less profitable. Centralization is what we got. That led directly to decisions that degraded our experience in the service of profits and political influence. The centralization of social media has proven to be a blind alley. It's time to turn around and find a new way forward.

Do I want to stick with email and the rest forever? Of course not. I've had (and often proposed) all sorts of new technologies. I think we need decentralized versions of social media, in which we participate on our own terms and enjoy the benefits of ownership. That would bring me back.

But...but...but...what about...?

We've already discussed these things, but you didn't believe me the first time. Let's review:

  • What about my followers? If you have a certain number of followers on Twitter, you will probably have a following on most other services proportionate to your Twitter percentile. If you have thousands of followers on Twitter, chances are you could start an email discussion list and, particularly if you loudly announced over a period of some weeks that you are going to leave Twitter forever and delete your account on such-and-such a date, you'll get a fair number of your followers to join you on that mailing list. You might, perhaps, get them to follow you to another social network, but this is much more of a crapshoot, as far as I'm concerned. Again, everyone has email, but almost nobody is on whatever also-ran privacy-loving social network you're considering.
  • What about missing out on all the essential controversies that are going on on Twitter? Think now. How essential are they, really? Most of those conversations are merely pleasant, and frequently insipid, crappy, or vicious. You might as well wring your hands because you'll miss out of an important article in the New York Times because you don't read it cover-to-cover, or because you don't attend every professional conference in your field, or a zillion other venues. Of course you're missing out. You can't avoid missing out all sorts of things. Here's a liberating thought: you really aren't missing out on much that is really important, in the long run, if you leave Twitter (and Facebook). Your mileage may vary, but I'm pretty sure this is true for 95% of us. It's certainly true for me.
  • What if my family and friends stay on Facebook, and my work colleagues stay on Twitter, and... And what? Finish the thought. You can't, in any way that should give you pause. Share a picture? Look, you can and should start sharing pictures and videos privately. There are lots of ways (even fairly simple, automatic, and secure ways) to do that. Learn the latest gossip? Well, use email. Anyone close enough to have gossip you have any business caring about will be happy to chat one with you (and maybe an ad hoc group of your close friends) if you start it up and keep up the habit. And say something that is outrageously false and cannot stand? Well, of course you know that's just silly. There are people saying stupid things all around the Internet. Sorry, but you have no way of intervening with your righteous indignation everywhere. So, why not do it in communities that respect your privacy? Maybe ones you make yourself?
  • OK, what if they don't follow me to email or whatever? What, you're going to email your family and friends, and they know you've left Facebook, and they won't reply? Nice family and friends you have...I think mine will respond fine as long as I start the habit.

It's OK. Really. Just remember: Facebook and Twitter really, actually, sincerely do suck. You're not missing out on anything important, especially if you scratch the itches that they scratch in other ways.

So what will the next steps? Should I just, you know, delete my account?

If you, too, find yourself wanting to quit social media, maybe you'll be asking me for advice on how to do it. Well, I can't do better than tell you what my plans are. Obviously, though, your requirements are different from mine, so you should make your own damn plans.

I'm not saying I'm definitely going to do all of these, in just this order; this is more of a draft plan. The first step in every case is to figure out exactly what's going on and think it through. I'm also pretty sure that locking down my contacts is the first thing to do.

  1. Lock down my contacts. Since so much of the solution (for me) involves email, my first step will be to consolidate my email and phone contacts, putting them 100% out of the hands of Microsoft, Google, and Apple. Frankly, I've left my contacts to the tender mercies of these companies for so long that the data formats and redundancies and locations (etc.) confuse me.
  2. Email updates for family. Start regularly interacting with my family more regularly with a cc list and texts, or maybe I'll persuade them to use Telegram. Not like formal Christmas letters; more like the usual joking, self-pitying, and boastful notes we post on Facebook.
  3. Replace Facebook and Twitter conversational patterns and groups with specific email lists or maybe forums. Create some email cc lists or listservs, for friends, for cultural/philosophical allies, about Internet and programming, a replacement for the "Fans of Western Civilization" group I started, and no doubt a big list for all my acquaintances. Others as well. I'm going to look into and see if there aren't some improvements on the old ways of doing things available now. I might install some web forums, as I tried a year or two ago, but I doubt it. I don't think they'd get nearly as much use as email.
  4. Pull the trigger: delete my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I'll download all my data first, for posterity. I'll also give my Facebook friends my coordinates for the various lists (above) that might interest them. I'll leave my account up for a couple weeks, making regular announcements that I'm leaving and urging people to join my lists (or, if I use another technology, whatever that technology is).
  5. Move Medium, Quora, and maybe Facebook data to my blog. This could prove to be labor-intensive, but it'll eventually get done.
  6. Delete Medium (done) and Quora accounts. Won't be sorry to be gone from there. For me, anyway, this is a long-overdue move.

It's OK. Really. Just remember: Facebook and Twitter really, actually, sincerely do suck. You're not missing out on anything important, especially if you scratch the itches that they scratch in other ways.

When is deletion day for you?

I will actually press the delete buttons on February 18, about a month from now. I'll update this blog with specifics of how I do each task, and spam my social networks with repeated invitations to join various lists, because I'm going away, permanently this time.

I'm giving myself time because I want to talk about people about what I'm doing via social media, and try to spark a mass exodus among my friends, family, and followers. And who knows? Maybe we'll get Silicon Valley to notice, and they'll start competing to make better products, ones in which we aren't the product. If not, we're sure to benefit anyway.


Why racism is wrong

Denial of individual humanity

The problem with racism is the collectivism—the tribalism—the treatment of people as mere tokens or representatives of their races. That, as it turns out, is a profoundly appalling and consequential attitude to take. Treating people as mere tokens of their race literally dehumanizes them. Why? Because it ignores, often accompanied by great contempt and hatred, the very feature that make a person human: their unique ability of reason, to think things through, to think for themselves, to direct their own lives.

We humans are defined by our rationality, Aristotle said. He wasn't wrong. What distinguishes us is our ability to reason, not just in the sense of making a logical inference here or there (lots of animals can do that), but in the sense that we can reflect deeply and at length about important decisions, the direction of our lives (past, present, and future), our assumptions, and our values. Our ability to think things through, to step back and take stock: that is the nature of human rationality. And that is the thing that makes us human, and that is the thing that makes us each unique, and that it is the thing that is dismissed without a thought by actual racists.

Racists, probably without quite realizing it, make some assumptions when they encounter a member of a disdained race: "This person is merely a representative of that race. His uniqueness does not matter. His difference, his thoughts and values, his humanity—none of that matters. He's fungible, interchangeable, equally worthy of contempt as any other member of his race."

Our rationality, as I described it, is also—as I maintained at length in an essay on this blog—equivalent to our free will. It is also what gives us each our dignity, that which commands a basic sort of respect, no matter what. The reason a person should never, no matter how terrible his crimes, be discarded like only so much trash, is that we wish to respect that feature shared by all the rest of us. A mass murderer may be as awful a person as you can imagine, but no decent, sober person in the light of day wants to torture him to death; to do so would be to, as it were, discard his dignity, his humanity itself.

So we can say just as well that a racist essentially denies the freedom and dignity of members of hated (or disdained) races.

At this point, I should acknowledge that people can be more and less racist. For example, there are people who generally hate members of other races, but make exceptions for religious or political allies or personal acquaintances. They can also be merely biased, tending to discount any individuality and uniqueness of members of a disdained race, but rarely doing so wholly. A complete racist, by contrast, couldn't imagine being friends with the disdained or hated race; one might as well be friends with a slug or a rock, or any other thing that is undifferentiated and worthless. The race per se is dehumanized for the thorough racist.

Dehumanization

Let's talk a bit about what "dehumanizing" means, because I think it's very important to understand, if you want to grasp the awfulness of racism. Perhaps the best way to get a bead on it is to consider some clear examples, of all sorts.

Think of

  • the slaveowner who cannot tell his slaves apart and thinks the only bad thing about beating a slave to death is the loss of labor.
  • the medieval lord who naturally thinks of his serfs as mere animals, like deer or foxes, that are part of the land, and that may be disposed of however he pleases.
  • the soldier at war who so thoroughly hates the enemy that he delights in any enemy deaths, no matter how unjustified.
  • the 19th-century factory owner who quite literally does not care whether the workers live or die, so long as more are available to keep the operation going.
  • the totalitarian leader driving the only expensive vehicle on the city streets, pleasantly regarding of all the people around him as "workers" or the "proletariat" or "das Volk," making plans for punishment of dissidents and hated groups in concentration camps.
  • the KKK member, the new-Nazi, the identitarian, the race purist, the Stormfronter, the troglodyte who utterly and completely hates some race (or several races), who thinks of them as subhuman vermin to be exterminated or, at best, to be avoided at all costs.
  • the true zealots, i.e., those who are so committed to a political ideology or religion that people who do not share it are so far beyond redemption that the zealots literally cannot care whether the heretics (or benighted, etc.) live or die.

There are other categories as well. These aren't the only sorts of people who dehumanize others. Another sort of example would be the criminal sociopath, a genuine misanthrope who lacks a conscience and views all other people as mere tools to be manipulated. Another still would be a truly vicious criminal gang, which views everyone unassociated with the gang to be little more than weak prey.

What all these people have in common is a failure to evaluate others as individuals with a unique mind and the inherent freedom and dignity that go with them. Instead, the dehumanizer regards them as mere instances of some hated, despised, or in any case undifferentiated group: they are mere slaves, mere serfs, mere enemies, mere workers, mere proletarians, mere n‑‑‑‑‑s or Jews, mere heathens, mere [fill in the blank with an epithet for some utterly despised political enemy].

Note that we can have a similar dehumanizing attitude toward groups that it is more popular to hate, such as criminals, pedophiles, and—let's not forget—racists.

So why is racism wrong?

Let's recapitulate a few things. Racism begins by regarding people of the despised race as mere members of that race, i.e., lacking any individual identity worthy of consideration. When racists do not consider others' individual identity, that means they have dehumanized them.

It is the dehumanization aspect of racism that leads racists to do horrible things to others, when they do, things that their victims (unlike, for example, convicted criminals) certainly do not deserve. Notice, this is true of all sorts of dehumanization. We are restrained from particularly brutal, inhumane behavior against people whose shared humanity and equal dignity we acknowledge. If we acknowledge someone's shared humanity, we are generally (except perhaps under duress and other extraordinary circumstances) incapable of flouting that dignity. We might punch someone we respect in the chin, but we won't torture him. We might force a disliked employee to work overtime, but we wouldn't callously put her life in serious danger or consider enslaving her. We might teach or report respected citizens in a biased way, but we wouldn't literally propagandize them or force their minds. There are some things that we simply do not do to our fellow human beings, if we accord them basic dignity.

The denial of a person's humanity—which racism implies—has of course enabled all sorts of inhumane treatment, throughout history, as trivial as snubs that indicate "you mean nothing to me" and as profound as genocide. We might also point out that racism is profoundly and unnecessarily unfair, i.e., it singles out people by race—a feature they didn't choose—for poor treatment. That, I suppose, is so obvious as not to need much further argument. It is, again, that denial of a person's humanity that makes such poor and unfair treatment possible. And that comes back to collectivism: the racist regards the despised race as mere undifferentiated representatives of their race, their individual minds being unworthy of consideration.

The audience of this little essay is not racists; I wouldn't expect racists to be persuaded by my arguments. But maybe some of them will read this. I imagine that the obviousness of the considerations of the last two paragraphs are such that any such racists would be unlikely to be moved to reconsider their racism. After all, no doubt most racists have somehow been confronted with the fundamental inhumanity and unfairness of their attitude. But they can't bring themselves to care.

But I have something else to say to (and about) such people. There's another sort of reason to think racism is wrong that might, perhaps, give some racists pause: racism is extremely bad for the soul. Here I don't mean anything religious (although you can apply the notion in that way if you wish). I mean that racism involves denying your shared humanity with other people who very obviously possess every bit as much dignity and freedom as you. When your hate, contempt, or utter indifference to some other people is so profound that you are incapable of crediting their humanity, something surely must have died within yourself. You, the racist, become the sort of person who is instead capable of monstrous, inhumane behavior. Denial of humanity in others can lead you to inhuman acts. That is how your soul is at risk, so to speak.

Moreover, the collectivism or tribalism that lies at the root of your callous attitude toward others of a disdained race can and probably will be turned on other classes of people. Who knows where, for you and those you influence, it will end? Just for example, the KKK did not stop at hating blacks; they also turned their ire toward Jews, Catholics, and Catholic immigrants (maybe especially the Irish). The roster of groups hated by European fascists (beyond merely the Jews) was also large. The ability to regard all members of any one group as an undifferentiated collective of "vermin" opens your soul up to more of the same, compounding the madness. This will not just harm others, if it does; but it will certainly harm you, the racist, deeply.

If that means nothing to racists, there's nothing that anyone can say to them, surely. But it ought to give them some pause.

I can imagine a committed, acknowledged racist—such people exist—responding that they would never dream of "monstrous, inhumane behavior" toward anyone of the race they hate. They simply want to have nothing to do with them. If you talk to neo-Nazis, some of them do say things like that: the Holocaust (if you can get them to admit that it happened) really was horrible. They just don't want to live in a society with Jews or blacks in it.

So let me be clear: I'm not saying all racists are like the very worst racists. As I said earlier, I know there are gradations of racism. Also, I am not trying to establish an obvious conclusion (that racism is wrong) cheaply, by assuming (falsely) that everyone who deserves to be called a "racist" is capable of participating in lynchings or genocide, for example.

But that isn't how my argument works. My argument is that racism does, in its most extreme or pure form, thoroughly dehumanize its targets. It is that dehumanization—that failure, to some degree or other, to acknowledge our shared humanity and equal dignity—that makes it possible for racists to do some truly awful things.

The thing that makes racism so awful is the dehumanization. As I argued, that is a feature it has in common with other of the most brutally destructive forces in human history: slavery, serfdom, dehumanizing the enemy, abusive labor practices, totalitarianism, zealotry, and true extremism. It's also similar to sociopathy and gangsterism. It's all about denying others their basic humanity: failing to regard them as having independent, unique minds worthy of basic consideration, minds that give us, all of us humans, the free will that gives us our equal dignity.

I wrote this essay primarily to clarify these issues to myself. I don't pretend to be a race theorist, but as with many topics in philosophy, I don't let that stop me from trying to clarify and test my own thinking on a topic. I hope you found this interesting and, whether you think I am right or wrong, I welcome your feedback below.


How and why I transitioned to Linux—how you can, too

Let me briefly tell my Linux story. If you're thinking about moving to Linux, and wondering how you'd do so, it might give you some pointers and inspiration.

The back story

My first introduction to the command line was in the 80s when I first started learning about computers and, like many geeky kids of the time, wrote my first BASIC computer programs. But it wasn't until my job starting Nupedia (and then Wikipedia) that I spent much time on the Bash command line.

(Let me explain. "Bash" means "Bourne-again shell," a rewrite of the class Unix shell "sh." A "shell" is a program for interacting with the computer by processing terse commands to do basic stuff like find and manipulate files; a terminal, or terminal emulator, is a program that runs a shell. The terminal is what shows you that command line, where you type your commands like "move this file there" and "download that file from this web address" and "inject this virus into that database". The default terminal used by Linux Ubuntu, for example, is called Gnome Terminal--which runs Bash, the standard Linux shell.)

Even then (and in the following years when I got into programming again), I didn't learn much beyond things like cd (switch directory) and ls (list directory contents).

It was then, around 2002, that I first decided to install Linux. Back then, maybe the biggest "distro" (flavor of Linux) was Red Hat Linux, so that's what I installed. I remember making a partition (dividing the hard disk into parts, basically) and dual-booting (installing and making it possible to use both) Linux and Windows. It was OK, but it was also rather clunky and much rougher and much less user-friendly than the Windows of the day. So I didn't use it much.

Linux on a virtual machine

When I decided in mid-2016 that I wanted to start learning to program, really really, more seriously this time, I knew I'd have to transition soon to Linux, especially if I was going to learn Ruby on Rails (which I was and am). There's less pressure to do this if you're a Mac user, since modern Macs make a Bash console easily available; OSX is based on Unix and so is a sibling of Linux. Anyway, if you don't want to plunge headfirst into Linux-only or dual-booting, then the Thing To Do, beginners are rightly told, is to install Linux on a virtual machine.

A "virtual machine" (VM) is a program that, generally, runs in Windows or Mac and allows you to run a completely distinct operating system within a window (or in my case, a couple windows, one for each monitor). When I turned on my computer (i.e., the physical machine with the on switch), I booted into Windows as usual. But when I wanted to start programming, I started the VM and, inside the windows that popped up, it looks like a separate Linux computer is running. It's easy to switch back and forth; you can do so with the click of a mouse.

One of the first things I had to decide was which distro (flavor of Linux) to use. Leading distros include Ubuntu, Mint, Debian, Fedora, and CentOS. I chose Ubuntu because it was (and is) popular, relatively stable, well-supported, and relatively easy for newbies to get into. I find Ubuntu running the Gnome desktop environment—I'm not going to bother explaining what that means, but different distros can run different desktop environments—to be a pleasure, as I'll explain later.

My precocious son H., then age 10, had already set up a VirtualBox VM, so I had his help installing Linux in one myself. Installing Ubuntu to a VirtualBox VM is not terribly easy if you've never done it before, but there are plenty of tutorials and free help to be found online. If you're moderately technical, you can do it. It's not that bad.

Why I decided to install Linux on a partition

I used Ubuntu in VirtualBox for a couple years. It was a great way to transition from Windows to Linux; I ran Linux on a VM when studying programming, and I ran Windows for everything else.

Then came 2018, with its stunning revelations and outrages by Facebook, Apple, Google, and others. With privacy and free speech—in short, digital autonomy—deeply under threat, I decided to lock down my cyber-life. (I encourage you to do the same.)

I'd wanted to run Linux on a partition for a long time (doing so is quite a bit faster and more seamless than a VM). But when all these giant, centralized corporations showed such contempt for our privacy (and thus our security) and free speech, I decided that I was going to do all I could to take my data out of their hands. Microsoft is and always has been terrible when it comes to security, but with Windows 10—though admittedly an improvement in UX—they jumped on the privacy-violating bandwagon. Windows 10 bothered me ever since it came out. Now finally I decided I'd have to do something about it.

See, I've always thought information privacy was important, but like many of us, I rationalized the increasingly jaw-dropping privacy violations and security failures by corporations (and government, for that matter) in the last ten years or so as the price we pay for awesome new technology. You know—awesome new tech like Facebook, Twitter, Google Search, Google Chrome, cloud storage, and a free but better-designed operating system like Windows 10 was (at launch). At first, all this seemed indeed worth the price. (Or enough to keep me from taking the privacy issues seriously.) But when these corporations (and government) over and over brazenly demonstrated just how much contempt they have for our information privacy and security, not to mention free speech rights, the bloom was off the rose. Something snapped, and I'm never going back to them.

Privacy matters. A lot. Facebook? Don't need it. I'll be switching back to good old-fashioned email groups soon. Twitter? OK, I might keep it around strictly for advertising purposes, but don't expect much in the way of personal sharing. Google Search? Meh, DuckDuckGo has come a long way and is as good as Google for most (still not all) purposes. Google Chrome is simply not better than privacy-respecting browsers like Brave (my preference) and Firefox. I'll be moving my data to a more secure solution than traditional cloud storage soon.

A few days ago, as I worked through my to do list, I finally decided it was time to ditch Windows and switch to Linux. I still have Windows available for things like Camtasia Studio (video production), but I really don't need it for most purposes.

The switch

There are five basic steps to the process of adding Linux to your Windows or Mac machine:

  1. Pick a distro.
  2. Put the distro on a thumb drive or DVD so you can boot to it from there.
  3. Create a partition big enough for the Linux distro.
  4. Install the Linux distro in the partition.
  5. Configure Linux so you can use it on a daily basis.

I won't explain how to do these things (there are lots of tutorials already available, like this), but here are a few notes. And for the non-techies out there who have bravely read this far, let me tell you: the hardest part of using Linux is installing it. Don't feel bad if you need to get help. Heck, I've installed it myself before my 12-year-old son was born, and I wasn't too proud to get a lot of help from him the second time around! If you don't have a family or friend who can help, and you have to pay a rent-a-geek, it'll be money well spent.

I discussed #1 above. Notes on #2 and #3: Creating a partition is a pretty simple process. But if you're going to use a Linux boot loader (i.e., the thing that tells your computer which operating system to load; I use Grub) then you'll first want to put Linux on a thumb drive, since it's typically quite small and easily fits, and boot to that. Then you'll probably use GParted (the Linux partition software) to actually do the partitioning. You'll want to make sure you actually know what you're doing (so, read up about potential pitfalls) before making any changes. It's also very important to make sure your must-have data is well backed up, because you might lose it. If you do it right, there's little chance you will; but there's always a chance. Also, make sure you allocate reasonable amounts of space to your respective partitions. You don't want to run out of space on either one.

As to #4, actually installing Linux, once the partition is ready, is the easy part. It takes a little while (i.e., waiting), then you set your time zone and a login (very important, as you'll use it a lot), then you're done!

The easiest part is #5, but you're not totally out of the woods yet. The Ubuntu Software app is like a free app store (it's not the only one, of course), and they've made it quite easy to install a lot of software. Especially if you're programming, though, you'll have to use the command line at least sometimes. The most important thing to remember here (and maybe for the whole process) is to do intelligent web searches for help whenever you need it.

There's nothing magical or particularly deep and difficult about any step of this process. It just requires a little bravery, lots of Internet searching, time, and patience, and you can definitely get it done.

So...how is it?

So far, I love using Linux (OS), Ubuntu (distro), Gnome (desktop environment) as my main workstation. I actually hate it when I have to boot up Windows. Not only does it feel clunkier (really) and more unnecessarily bloated, I can't stop thinking about how I don't know what data is being sent to Microsoft.

If you haven't tried Linux for a long time, let me tell you: it has changed a lot from the early days. It is not just more usable than it was, in some ways it is more usable than Windows or Mac, in my opinion, for day-to-day work. I mean, of course this applies if you can deal with a few technical challenges. But if you can, Linux is more usable not just because of the nicer UX available, but also because of how configurable Linux is. You can change almost anything on the system you want. You want a different look and feel? There are apps for that. You want a different sort of app store? There are alternatives. You want something simpler and leaner? Available. Something that looks and feels like Windows or Mac? Available, of course.

One big exception is in installing some technical software that, if you aren't a programmer, you probably won't need to install. If for whatever reason you want or need to start using the command line (for example, running Bash on a terminal like Gnome, as I said above), try this beautifully written tutorial. The command line isn't that difficult to learn, actually. The basics are rather simple once you get the hang of them.

Another big exception lies in the sometimes non-standard and quirky ways the software sometimes behaves. Again, this is much better than it was in days gone by, but quirkiness is still definitely a Linux thing. I guess I don't mind.

A final difficulty is that it has some occasional, and almost always very minor, operating system issues that simply would never crop up for Windows or Mac. This is probably one of the bigger problems and obstacles to wider adoption. I can give you an example from Ubuntu 18.04, which I installed: it has a "memory leak" problem that very slowly and progressively eats up your memory (over the course of days) until you have to reboot. This will be fixed in an update soon if it hasn't been already.

But enough of the negatives. One enormous positive that neither Windows or Mac is likely ever to be able to boast is that it's an operating system that respects your autonomy. You own your system, not Microsoft or Apple. You don't have to ask a giant corporation for permission to do anything. You don't have to worry about them invading your privacy, putting your data at risk of hacking, or censoring you. And you have all the tools you'll need to make the system just the way you like it. That might not sound like a big deal (and maybe it wouldn't be to you), but if you try it, you might find yourself delighted with all the options. I was.

In summary, here are the similarities and difference to a typical desktop (Windows and Mac--I have both) experience:

  • Browsing is exactly the same as in Windows (I use Brave).
  • My mail program is exactly the same (MailSpring).
  • Other apps, like Telegram, Slack, and more, are exactly the same.
  • My password manager is almost exactly the same (Enpass).
  • For the long tail of specialist software, most of it is free, and you don't have to worry nearly as much about downloading viruses. Linux is much harder to hack and hackers rarely try.
  • Finding and loading software is different. It's better in that most of the software is free and quite easy to find, and there's a lot more of it. It's worse, however, in that more technical software (at least, the stuff I use) requires comfort with the command line. This is a deal-breaker for some non-techies, I know. But I think most of the software non-techies use will be pretty easy to install. Ubuntu developers put a great deal of work into usability, and it shows.
  • A lot of the free/open source software for office work is "fine" but will strike experienced MS Office users as a little quirky and clunky in places. Office 360 doesn't run in some flavors of Linux except using Wine, which doesn't always work (my son uses Wine for some purposes). This is one reason I still have a Windows partition going. UPDATE: Wrong. I don't use Office anymore at all. No reason to. LibreOffice (both the word processing and the spreadsheet programs) is great.
  • Linux is generally lean and fast. Unless you install a particularly bloated distro, it's much faster than Windows or Mac on the same machine. This is a very nice benefit.
  • If you're a serious gamer, Linux won't satisfy you (yet). (Some gamers take issue with this, others don't.)
  • It can be subject to very occasional weird but non-serious crashes and problems solved with updates. Don't worry about this, really, it's OK.

Back in 2002 when I was using Linux the first time around, it wasn't really ready for prime time. But it is now. You kind of have to be able to search the Internet and read some technical help pages in order to learn how to use the thing, or get help from someone who can do this. It is, after all, another whole operating system. So, yes, there's still a learning curve. It's not a huge learning curve, though, and not nearly as big as it used to be.

Linux: it's not for just uber-geeks anymore. Admittedly, there is probably a minimum intelligence requirement. But in the not-too-distant future, we might well see a completely foolproof distro.


Why does information privacy matter, again?

It's not just because you are a criminal and the coppers might catch you. Or because you really, really hate big corporations who just want to sell you stuff more easily. Or because you're paranoid.

If that's as far as your thinking goes, when people start talking about "privacy" on the Internet, you really need to bone up on the subject.

You probably already knew that you don't have to be criminal, paranoid, or anti-capitalist to be very jealous of your Internet privacy rights. After all, plenty of law-abiding, merely sensibly cautious, capitalism-loving people are freaking out about the way FAANG (Facebook, Apple, Amazon, Netflix, Google) companies, and many more, are creepily tracking their every move. Then those same corporations are selling the information and making it available to governments (or, at least, not going out of their way to stop governments from getting it).

Are people right to freak out about these privacy violations?

Yes, they are, or so I will argue. The threats come under three heads: corporate, criminal, and government. And let's not forget that in the worst-case scenario, the three heads merge into one.

The corporate threat

Left unchecked, in ten years, some of the biggest, most influential corporations will know (or have ready access to) not just your name, email address, phone number, age, sex/gender, credit card numbers, family relationships, friends, mother's maiden name, first car, favorite food, various social media metrics, browsing history, purchase history, as well as a large collection of content authored and curated by you. That's already bad enough (for reasons I'll explain). But they might add to their dossiers on you such things as your social security number, credit score, criminal record, medical history, voting history, religion, political party, government benefits, and more.

But how? Well, you might have asked that about the first list twenty years ago. How indeed? They'll create must-have devices and services that become very popular. Everybody has to have the device, or the service. Then they'll talk a good game when it comes to your information privacy and security, but they'll get their hands on your medical history, your credit score, your government benefits--and that will be it.

Imagine, too, the possibilities that highly motivated project managers will dream up when they can mash up your growing dossier with data from facial recognition, AI/big data text analysis, and other new technologies.

In such a situation, what information isn't private?

"But I can make up my own mind about what to buy," you say.

Well. Top-flight marketing and product people are, naturally, very good at what they do. It's not an accident that, once everybody and his grandma got online, some of the wretched Mark Zuckerbergs of the world would stumble on some platform that would connect us by our personal relationships, not care one bit about privacy, and hire people who are and become very, very, very good at manipulating us in all sorts of ways. They'll keep us online, give us more reasons to share more information, watch ads, and yes, buy stuff.

But corporate control of your private life is much more insidious than that.

Do you feel quite yourself when you're reading and posting on Facebook and Twitter, shopping on Amazon, watching and commenting on YouTube and Netflix, etc.? I admit it: I don't. We become more irrational when we get on these social networks. Sure, we retain our free will. We can stop ourselves (but often won't). We are the authors of what we write (as influenced by our echo chambers), which reflects our real views (maybe). We could quit (fat chance).

We have become part of a machine, run by massively powerful corporations, with their clever executives at the levers. Only part of what is so offensive about this machine is that we are influenced to buy things we don't need. What about radicalization--being influenced to believe things we haven't thought sufficiently about? What about self-censorship, because the increasingly bold and shameless social media censors (no longer mere "moderators") increasingly require ideological purity? What about the failure to consider options (for shopping, entertainment, socialization, discussion, etc.) that are outside of our preferred, addictive networks?

More importantly perhaps than any of those, what about the opportunity cost of spending our lives coordinated by these networks, with less time for offline creativity, meaningful one-on-one interaction, exercise, focused hard work, self-awareness, and self-doubt?

The machine, in short, robs us of our autonomy. As soon as we started giving up every little bit of information that makes us unique individuals, we empowered executives and technologists to collectivize us. It is not too much of a stretch to call it the beginnings of an engine of totalitarianism.

The criminal threat: privacy means security

If you've never had your credit card charged for stuff you didn't buy, your phone hacked, precious files held hostage by ransomware, your computer made inoperable by a virus, or your identity stolen, then you might not care much about criminal hackers. Several of these things have happened to me, and since I started studying programming and information security, I've become increasingly aware of just how extensive the dangers are.

Here's the relevance to privacy: keeping your information private requires keeping it secure. Privacy and security go hand in hand. If your information isn't private, that means it's not secure, i.e., anybody can easily grab it. You have to think about security if you want to think about privacy.

So, even if you (wrongheadedly) trust the Internet giants not to abuse your information or rob you of your autonomy, you should still consider that you're trusting them with your information security. If a company has your credit card information, government ID number, medical history and health data, or candid opinions, you have to ask yourself: Am I really comfortable with these companies' confident guarantees that my information won't fall into the wrong hands?

If you are, you shouldn't be. Think of all the data hacking of systems that, you might have thought, were surely hacker-proof: giant retailers like Target, internet giants like Facebook, major political parties, and heck, the NSA itself (not just the hack by Snowden).

No, your credit card info is not guaranteed safe just because the corporation storing it makes billions a year.

If you want to keep your information safe from malevolent forces, you shouldn't trust big companies. There are all sorts of ways bad actors can get hold of your information for nefarious purposes. They don't even always have to hack it. Sometimes, they can just legally buy it, a problem that legislation can make better--or worse.

The government threat

Remember when Edward Snowden revealed that the NSA has a (once) secret spy program that actually empowers it to monitor all telephone calls, emails, browser and search histories, and social media use? Remember when we all were shocked to learn that Bush and Obama, Democrats and Republicans had together created a monster of a domestic surveillance program?

I do. I think about it fairly often, although one doesn't hear about it that much, and the programs Edward Snowden uncovered, like NSA's PRISM, have not been canceled. That means (a) everything you do and access online can be put in government hands, whenever they demand it, and (b) it's no more secure than the NSA's security.

Remember when everybody left social media in droves and started locking down their Internet use, because otherwise the NSA would have easy access to their every move?

No, I don't remember that either, because it didn't happen. Nor, sadly, was there a popular revolt to get these programs repealed. I think many of us couldn't really believe it was happening; it just didn't seem real, it seemed to be about terrorists and spies and criminals, without any impact on us.

One thing that bothers me quite a bit is that pretty much the whole Democratic Party thinks Donald Trump is a crypto-Nazi and is one step from instituting fascism—but still, puzzlingly, nobody thinks to observe worriedly that he's in control of the NSA and can find trumped-up excuses to spy on us if he wishes. In other words, if Trump were a fascist and he did turn out to want to start the Fourth Reich here in the good ol' U.S. of A., it doesn't seem to bother many Democrats that Trump holds handy tools to do just that.

Meanwhile, Republicans often think the Democratic Party is beholden to social justice warriors that want to institute socialism, thought policing, censorship, and general totalitarianism. You know--fascism. But they, too, seem strangely uninterested to dismantle government programs that systematically monitor everyone.

Both sides think the other side is just desperate to lord it over us, the innocent, good salt of the earth. But nobody seems to care that the very tools that make a police state worse than 1984 possible are already in place. And they're only too happy to keep building and rewarding a corporate system that feeds directly into the NSA.

Government surveillance isn't that bad! Fascism will never happen here! We can keep putting our entire lives in the hands of giant corporations! So say the people whose direst fear is that the other side will consolidate even more power and start executing their secret desires to institute fascist control.

What to do

But it can happen here. That's why we need to start demanding more privacy from government.

If you're really worried about fascism, then let's defang the monster. Complain more about government programs that systematically violate your privacy rights. After all, knowledge is power, so NSA's PRISM program, and similar surveillance programs in other countries, is really just an undemocratic power grab. With enough of a public uproar, Democrats and Republicans really could get together over what should be a bipartisan concern: shutting down these enormously powerful, secretive government programs.

In the meantime, we need to wake up about our personal privacy.

Look--everything you do online has multiple points of insecurity. If you can see that now, then what's your response? Hope for the best? Throw your hands up in despair? Do nothing? Figure that decent people will eventually "do something" about the problem for you?

Don't count on it. If you aren't ready to start acting on your own behalf, why think your neighbor or your representative will?

Stop giving boatloads of information to giant corporations, especially ones who think you are the product, and contribute to the market for genuinely privacy-respecting products and services. If you don't, you're opening up that information to hackers who will exploit those points of security, and making it easier for governments everywhere to control their people.

Do your personal, familial, and civic duty and start locking down your cyber-life. I am. It'll take some time. But I think it's worth it and, soon, I'll be finished getting everything set up.

What if you and all your family and friends did this? If there were a groundswell of demand for privacy, we might create tools, practices, education, and economies that support privacy properly.

Think of it as cyber-hygiene. You need to wash your data regularly. It's time to learn. Our swinish data habits are really starting to stink the place up, and it's making the executives, criminals, and tyrants think they can rule the sty.


"OK," you say, "I'm convinced. I guess I should start caring about privacy. But really, how deep do I need to go into this privacy stuff, anyway? Well, I've answered that one, too."

Part of a series on how I'm locking down my cyber-life.


Stop giving your information away carelessly!

27 tips for improving your cyber-hygiene

Who is most responsible for your online privacy being violated?

You are.

Privacy is one of the biggest concerns in tech news recently. The importance of personal privacy is something everybody seems to be able to agree on. But if you're concerned about privacy, then you need stop giving your information away willy-nilly. Because you probably are.

Well, maybe you are. See how many of the following best practices you already follow.

  1. Passwords. Install and learn how to use a password manager on all your devices. There are many fine ones on the market.
  2. Let your password manager generate your passwords for you. You never even need to know what your passwords are, once you've got the password managers set up.
  3. Make sure you make a secure password for the password manager!
  4. Stop letting your browser save passwords. Your password manager handles that.
  5. If ever you have reason to send a password to another person online, break it into two or more files (texts, emails, whatever) in different media, then totally delete those files. Also, some password managers help with this.
  6. Credit cards and other personal info. Stop letting your browser save your credit cards. Your password manager handles that.
  7. Stop letting web vendors save your credit card info on their servers, unless absolutely necessary (e.g., for subscriptions). Again, your password manager handles that. Maybe you should go delete them now. I'll wait.
  8. If you give your credit card info out online, always check that the website has the "lock" next to its address on the address bar. That means it uses the https protocol (i.e., uses encryption).
  9. Stop answering "additional security" questions with correct answers, especially correct answers that hackers might discover with research. Treat the answer fields as passwords, and record them in your password manager.
  10. Stop filling out the "optional" information on account registration forms. Give away only the required information.
  11. Americans, for chrissakes stop giving out your social security number and allowing others to use it as an ID, unless absolutely required.
  12. Stop giving your email address out when doing face-to-face purchases. Those companies don't actually need it.
  13. Stop trusting the Internet giants with your data. Consider moving away from Gmail. Google has admitted it reads your mail—all the better to market to you, my dear. Gmail isn't all that, really.
  14. Maintain your own calendar. When meeting, let others add your name, but don't let them add your email address, if you have a choice.
  15. Maintain your own contacts. No need to let one of the Internet giants take control of that for you. It's not that hard. Then have them delete their copies.
  16. If you're an Apple person, stop using iCloud to sync your devices. Use wi-fi instead.
  17. Browser and search engine hygiene. Use a privacy-respecting browser, such as Brave or Firefox. (This will stop your browsing activity from being needlessly shared with Google or Microsoft.)
  18. If you must use a browser without built-in tracking protection (like Chrome), then use a tracker-blocking extension (like Privacy Badger).
  19. Use a privacy-respecting search engine, such as DuckDuckGo or Qwant. (Ditto.)
  20. Social media, if you must. On social media, start learning and taking the privacy settings more seriously. There are many options that allow you to lock down your data to some degree.
  21. Make posts "private" on Facebook, especially if they have any personal details. If you didn't know the difference between "private" and "public" posts, learn this. And a friend says: "Stop playing Facebook quizzes."
  22. Stop digitally labeling your photos and other social posts with time and location. Make sure that data is removed before you post.
    (Putting it in the text description is better.)
  23. For crying out loud, stop posting totally public pictures of your vacation while you are vacation. Those pictures are very interesting to burglars. Wait until you get home, at least.
  24. Sorry, but stop sharing pictures of your children on social. (This is just my opinion. I know you might differ. But it makes me nervous.)
  25. Consider quitting social media altogether. Their business models are extremely hostile to privacy. You (and your private info) are the product, after all.
  26. A couple of obvious(?) last items. Make sure you're using a firewall and some sort of anti-virus software.
  27. Don't be the idiot who opens email attachments from strangers.

How many did you answer "I do that!" to? I scored 22, to be totally honest, but it'll be up to 27 soon. Answer below. Well, answer only if you have a high score, or if you use a pseudonym. I don't want hackers to know who they can hit up for an easy win!


Kick the tech giants out of your life

If you're like me, you feel a need to need to kick the tech giants out of your life. But how? Well, nobody said it would be easy, but I'm actually doing it!

Stop using Google Chrome. Google is contemptuous of your privacy and of free speech. I recommend Brave.

Stop using Google Search. And it tracks you after you search. I recommend DuckDuckGo, with results just as good as Google's 90+% of the time, in my experience.

Stop using Gmail. Look. Gmail is way overrated. And there are many, many other options out there which do not read your mail and extract marketable data.

Stop using Google Contacts and iCloud. Start managing your own contacts and data. There are lots of great tools to do this; it's not that hard.

Shields up on all the tech giants' websites and devices. Dive in to the innards of your settings (or options)—not just a few, all of them, because they like to hide things—and set your privacy settings to max.

Maybe quit social media. Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and others have becoming increasingly censorious and contemptuous of your privacy. Make them less relevant by spending more time elsewhere, if you can't just quit for good.

Use a password manager. Stop letting your browser track your passwords.

And then, if you want to get serious:

Start learning Linux... Microsoft's problems with privacy and security are famous. Apple has its own too. Well, there are these things called "virtual machines" which make it easy (and free) to install and play with your very own Linux installation. Try it!

...then switch to Linux. If you know how to use Linux, why not make the switch to something more permanent? You can always dual-boot.


How I locked down my passwords

If you’re one of those people who uses the same password for everything, especially if it’s a simple password, you’re a fool and you need to stop. But if you’re going to maintain a zillion different passwords for a zillion different sites, how?

Password management software.

I’ve been using the free, open source KeePass, which is secure and it works, but it doesn’t integrate well with browsers, or let me save my password data securely in the cloud (or maybe better, on the blockchain). So I’m going to get a better password manager and set it up on all my devices. This is an essential to locking down my cyber-life.

One of the ways Facebook, LinkedIn, et al. insinuate themselves into our cyber-lives is by giving us an easy way to log in to other sites. But that makes it easier for them to track us everywhere. Well, if you install a decent password manager, then you don’t have to depend on social login services. Just skip them and use the omnipresent “log in with email” option every time. Your password manager will make it about as easy as social login systems did, but much more securely and privately.

You need a password manager

Password management software securely holds your passwords and brings them out, also securely, when you're logging in to websites in your desktop and handheld browsers. Decent browsers (like Brave) make your passwords available for the same purposes, if you let them, but there are strong reasons you shouldn't rely on your browser to act as a password manager.

Instead, for many years I've been using KeyPass, a free (open source) password manager that's been around for quite a while. The problem with KeyPass, as with a lot of open source software, is that it's a bit clunky. I never did get it to play nicely with browsers.

Password managers can, of course, automatically generate passwords and save them securely. They can also (but not all do) store your password database reasonably securely in the cloud (assuming you trust public clouds, which maybe you shouldn’t), so you don't have to worry about losing it; you can export a copy if you like. You can use it on all your devices with equal ease. The software will even let you grab your passwords with a fingerprint (or whatever) on your phone.

A very nice feature is that they'll securely store payment information, so your browser, websites, and operating system don't have to hold that information. That means you don't have to trust browsers, websites, and operating systems to manage this information securely. You only need to trust the password manager...

But can you trust password managers?

"Ah," you say, "but can you trust password managers?" That's not a bad or naive question at all; it's an excellent question. Consumer Reports, of all things, weighs in:

By default, LastPass, 1Password, and Dashlane store your password vault on their servers, allowing you to easily sync your data across devices. As a second benefit, if your computer crashes you won’t lose your vault.

But some people just really hate the idea of storing all their passwords on one site in the cloud—no matter what the company promises about its security measures, there's probably a bulls-eye painted on its encrypted back. If that sounds like you, it's possible to store your passwords locally.

Dashlane lets you do this by disabling the “Sync” feature in Preferences. This will delete your vault and its contents from the company’s servers. Of course, any further changes you make to your vault on your computer won’t show up on your other devices.

So what's my take? Hopefully there are layers of security protecting your password repository, not least of which is the (hopefully well-chosen) master password to your password database. While you do have to choose the professionalism and honesty of a cloud-based password manager, I think that's their business, so I want to trust them. But, but!

I ask myself: what is more likely, that they become compromised (for whatever reason—let your imagination run wild) or instead that I lose my master password or all copies of my password database or somehow allow myself to be hacked? I think both are fairly unlikely, first of all. I am certainly inclined to distrust myself, especially over the long haul. And frankly, the idea that a security business is compromised seems unlikely, since security is their business. But could a password manager server be hacked? That is, again, a really good question, and you wouldn't be the first to ask it. Password manager company OneLogin was actually hacked, and the hackers could actually "decrypt encrypted data," the company said. Holy crap!

Also, which is most disastrous? Losing my password file would not be a disaster; I can easily generate new passwords; that's just a pain, not a disaster. But a hacker getting hold of my passwords in the cloud (no matter how unlikely)? That could be pretty damn bad.

After all, especially as password manager companies grow in size (as successful companies are wont to do), they naturally can be expected to become a honeypot for hackers. Another example of a hacked password management company was LastPass, which was hacked in 2015, although without exposing their users' passwords.

If you're like me, you have libertarian concerns about having to trust external entities (and especially, giant corporations) with your entire digital lives. You might also not want to trust (future?) dangerous governments with the power to force those corporations to give access to your entire digital life, then we're no longer talking about anti-crime cybersecurity. Then it looks like you shouldn't (sensibly) put your password files in a corporate-managed cloud. Then I’m having to trust people a little too much for my comfort. So you should manage their location yourself.

Then there are two further problems. First, can you be sure that it is impossible for anyone at the password management software company to crack your password database, even if you host it yourself? (Do they have a copy? Can they get access to a copy? If they have access, are there any back doors?)

Second, there's the practical issue: Without the cloud, how do you sync your passwords between all your devices? That feature is the main advantage of hosting your passwords in the cloud. So how can you do it automatically, quickly, and easily?

What self-hosted password manager is really secure?

Several password managers use the cloud, but what is stored in the cloud is only the encrypted data. All the login and decryption happens on your local device. This is called zero-knowledge security, and it might be a suitable compromise for many. I have one main issue with this: Especially if the software is proprietary, we must simply trust the company that that is, in fact, how it works. But that's a lot to ask. So I'll pass on these. I'll manage the hosting of my own passwords, thanks very much.

Here are my notes on various password managers:

  1. These all feature zero-knowledge security but seem not to allow the user to turn off cloud sync (maybe they do, I just couldn't find evidence that they do): 1Password, Keeper Password Manager, LastPass, LogMeOnce, Password Boss, Zoho Vault.
  2. Sticky Password Premium: Allows home wifi sync of passwords, which is just fine. Fills out forms, works on all your devices...except Linux devices. Linux does not seem to be supported. Next!
  3. RoboForm: Doesn't have a sync feature without using their cloud service, but hey! It has a Linux version! Might work on Brave, since Brave is built on Chromium and there is a Chrome extension. This was enough for me to install it (and it worked!), but it seems to be rather clunky and there were a few different things that didn't inspire confidence.
  4. Dashlane: This has zero-knowledge security, which isn't a bad thing, but in addition, it allows you disable sync. Whenever you turn it off, the password data is wiped from their servers (so they say). You can turn it on again and sync your devices, then turn it off again. This is within my tolerance. Also, Dashlane has a Linux version. In other respects, Dashlane seems very good. I installed it and input a password. The UX is very inviting—even the Linux version. It's expensive, though: it's a subscription, and it's $40 for the first year (if you use an affiliate link, I guess), and $60 if you buy it direct, which I'm guessing will be the yearly price going forward. That's pretty steep for a password manager.
  5. EnPass: Here's something unusual—a password manager that goes out of its way to support all platforms, including Linux and even Chromebook (not that I'd ever own one of those). Rather than an expensive subscription, like Dashlane, EnPass's desktop app is free, while the mobile version costs $10, and that's a one-time fee. They don't store passwords in the cloud; passwords are stored locally, but EnPass has some built-in ways to sync the passwords (including by wi-fi, like Sticky Password). The autofill apparently doesn't work too well, while more expensive options like Dashlane do this better, and lacks two-factor authentication, which would be nice, and other "luxury" features.

Installation and next steps

Dear reader, I went with EnPass.

So how did I get started? Well, the to do list was fairly substantial. I...

  1. Made a new master password. I read up on the strategy for making a password that is both strong, easy to remember, and easy to type. I ended up inventing my own strategy. (Do that! Be creative!) So my master password ended up being a bit of a compromise. While it's very strong, it's a bit of a pain to type; but it's pretty easy to remember. Whatever master password you chose, just make sure you don't forget it, or you'll lose access to your password database.
  2. Installed EnPass on Windows and Linux and tested it to see if it worked well in both. It does (so far).
  3. Used EnPass to sync the two installations using a cloud service. (I'll be replacing this with Resilio Sync soon enough, so it'll be 100% cloudless.) I confirmed that if I change a password in one, it is synced in the other.
  4. Imported all my Keepass passwords, then tested a bit more on both platforms to make sure nothing surprising is happening. So far, so good. My only misgiving about EnPass so far is that there doesn't seem to be a keyboard shortcut to automatically choose the login info. I actually have to double-click on the item I want, apparently.
  5. Deleted all passwords from all browsers, and ensure that the browser doesn't offer to save new passwords. Let the password manager handle that from now on. (No need for the redundancy; that's a bit of extra and unnecessary risk.)
  6. Installed on my cell phone, synced (without issue), and tested. (Annoyingly, the Enpass iOS app doesn't do autofill, but I gather that's in the plans.)
  7. Installed app and browser plugin on my (Mac) laptop. No issues there either.
  8. Deleted Keepass data in all locations. That's now redundant and a needless risk as well.

I'm now enjoying the new, secure, and easy access to my passwords on all my devices. I'm also happy to be free of browser password managers.

This was installment four in my series on how I'm locking down my cyber-life.


How I set up private email hosting for my family

Here's how I actually set up my own private email hosting—sanger.io! I already finished choosing a private email hosting provider. So what was the next step?

I still had to choose a plan with my chosen provider (InMotion Hosting, which didn't pay me anything for this) and make it official. The details are uninteresting; anybody could do that part.

Now the hard work (such as it was) began. I...

(1) Read over the domain host's getting-started guide for email. InMotion's is here, and if you have a different host, they're bound to have some instructions as well. If you get confused, their excellent customer service department can hold your hand a lot.

(2) Created a sanger.io email address, since that's what they said to do first. In case you want to email me, my username is 'larry'. (Noice and simple, ey?) InMotion let me create an email address, and I was rather confused about how this could possibly work since I hadn't pointed any DNS, hosted by NameCheap, to InMotion.

(3) Chose one of the domain hosts's web app options. For a webmail app (InMotion gave me a choice of three), I went with Horde, which is, not surprisingly, a little bit clunky compared to Gmail, but so far not worse than ZohoMail; we'll see. Unsurprisingly, when I tried to send an email from my old gmail account to my new @sanger.io account, the latter didn't receive it. Definitely need to do some DNS work first...

(4) Pointed my domain name to the right mail server. In technical jargon, I created an MX record on my DNS host. This was surprisingly simple. I just created an MXE Record on NameCheap, my DNS host for sanger.io, and pointed it to an IP address I found on InMotion. So basically, I just found the right place to paste in the IP address, and it was done. Now I can send and receive email via sanger.io (at least via webmail).

(5) Created email addresses for my other family members. Very easy.

(6) Installed a desktop email client. Why? I wasn't using one before because I just used Gmail in a browser and Apple's mail app on my phone. I could keep using webmail (on InMotion) but a desktop client is apt to be nicer. I'd tell you which one I used, but I'm not confident it's particularly good.

(7) Installed a new email client for my phone. As I no longer trust or want to support Apple if I can at all help it, I wanted to stop using their email client. I paid $10 for a privacy-touting mail client which is quite good so far: Canary Mail.

(8) Change the mail address registered with the big, consequential apps and services. This is the most labor-intensive step, and the step I most dreaded. Sure, it was a pain. But it turns out it was tremendously satisfying to be able to tell them to stop using my wretched Gmail address and instead to start using my slick new permanent and personalized address. Was that fun? Heck yeah it was! Anyway, such apps and services include

  • The massive Internet and tech services: Google, Microsoft, Apple.
  • The big social media/community accounts: Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Quora, Medium, LinkedIn.
  • Companies I pay money to: Amazon, Netflix, PayPal, Patreon, InMotion, GoDaddy, NameCheap, Heroku, LifeLock, The Great Courses, any other bills.
  • Important stuff: my employer, the bank, medical info systems/apps, dentist, Coinbase.
  • Family, friends, and work and business people. Send them the message three times spread over a month or two, because if they're like me, they ignore such emails or don't act on them right away, and some old aunt of mine will keep sending mail to my gmail address for years and years. (I haven't actually done this one yet, but will soon. Gmail makes exporting of all your relevant contact info surprisingly difficult.)

(9) Create a Gmail forwarder! Buh-bye, Google! No need even to visit your crappy, biased, would-be totalitarian service for email any longer.

(10) Clean up and consolidation. There are a zillion little consequences when you change your email on all these big services, and I expect I'll be dealing with the consequences (nothing major!) for a few days or weeks to come. Among the things I know I'll have to do: (a) Install and configure mail clients on my laptop and iPad, and in other ways get those other devices working as expected again. (b) Update various email clients with address book information, as needed. (c) Actually collect my contacts from Google and Apple (harder than it sounds). (d) Change entries in my password manager from @gmail.com to @sanger.io. (e) Actually, get a new password manager...but that's a whole nuther thang. (f) Get Microsoft and Google and whatever else to forget my contacts...ditto.

This was installment three in my series on how I'm locking down my cyber-life.


How I chose an email hosting service to replace Gmail

I want to lock down my cyber-life. One basic constraint is that I want to replace Gmail, and when I do so, I never want to change my email address again. My biggest concern is that I never again want to be beholden to any major Internet corporation that has shown its contempt for privacy and censorship concerns. But if I can get "the last email address I'll ever need" while I'm at it, all the better.

The natural solution is to own my own domain name and seek out email hosting. This is not as difficult as it might sound, but it isn’t as easy as registering a new Google account. But then, that is exactly what Google is counting on: your laziness.

My new address will live at the newly-registered sanger.io domain. I and my family members can have unique and easy to remember email addresses for all the rest of our lives. After purchasing sanger.io (from NameCheap), I listed a number of features I knew I wanted: reasonable price, unlimited (or more than I could reasonably need) email storage space, IMAP support, a webmail app built in to the hosting provider (or else software that they make it easy for me to install on my new domain), and finally, enough email addresses for my purposes.

I ended up weeding out a fair few on grounds that they were too expensive (e.g., ProtonMail) or didn't offer enough storage space or accounts (e.g., NameCheap). I also weeded many out because their Alexa rankings were above 10,000, and while that isn't a total deal-breaker, I didn't want my email host to quit on me, which would be a pain.


Private email hosting comparison (Jan. 2019)

 PriceSpace limitIMAP supportWebmail app# of addressesWeb Hosting Geeks.com ratingIncludes web hosting
BlueHost Plus$5.95/moUnlimitedYesYesUnlimited2.5Yes
InMotion Hosting$6.39/moUnlimitedYesYesUnlimited4.5Yes
Rackspace Email$2/user/mo (so for me, $6/mo)25GB/ accountYesYes1/$2 accountnot reviewedNo
Zoho$3/user/mo (so for me, $9/mo)30GB/ accountYesYes1/$3 accountnot reviewedNo

I also discovered that some competitive email hosting (in the case of BlueHost and InMotionHosting) comes packaged with shared web hosting, which would be handy. I mean, then I could finally ditch GoDaddy, which I've used since time immemorial. (I dislike their upselling and bait-and-switch tactics, and detest their clunky user interface.)

I use Zoho Mail for work, and it's quite decent, but it costs half again as much and doesn't bundle shared web hosting. RackSpace email hosting seems high-quality, but it fails by comparison with BlueHost and InMotionHosting, in that those two offer unlimited email addresses and unlimited email storage space. And between the latter two, InMotionHosting seems to be the better reviewed by WebHostingGeeks.com and in other reviews. Besides, it supports Ruby; I could host my Rails projects there.

I looked at a number of other reviews of InMotionHosting, and it does indeed look good. It also has spam protection (which I didn't think to check on at first), lots of PostgreSQL databases if I want them, and free website data migration from GoDaddy.

I understand that this is not a route that most people will take. Paying for email seems unnecessary, many people would say. And certainly most people don't need their own domain name for email, they think. But just imagine: you can have the same, perfectly appropriate email address for the rest of your life. And you no longer have to feel beholden to the privacy practices of an Internet giant like Google.

Look, you don't have to be an uber-geek to do this. If you can't do it yourself, and you can get a geeky friend to set this up for you—it's not that expensive, and then you'd have your own address forever.

And you'd no longer have to support the growing monster that is Google. Gmail is admittedly a pretty awesome web app, but frankly I find I haven't missed it much when using ZohoMail for work, and I don't even use the Google email client on my phone. So the slightly slicker quality of the Gmail web app really doesn't make that much difference after all.

Next: how I set up my new private email hosting.

This was the second installment in my report about how I'm locking down my cyber-life.