Libertarians often cite the internet as a case in point that
liberty is the mother of innovation. Opponents quickly counter that
the internet was a government program, proving once again that
markets must be guided by the steady hand of the state.
In one sense the critics are correct, though not in ways they
understand.
The internet indeed began as a typical government program, the
ARPANET,
designed to share mainframe computing power and to establish a
secure military communications network.
Of course the designers could not have foreseen what the
(commercial) internet has become. Still, this reality has important
implications for how the internet works — and explains why
there are so many roadblocks in the continued development of online
technologies. It is only thanks to market participants that the
internet became something other than a typical government program:
inefficient, overcapitalized, and not directed toward socially
useful purposes.
In fact, the role of the government in the creation of the
internet is often understated.
The internet owes its very existence to the state and
to state funding. The story begins with
ARPA, created in 1957 in response to the Soviets' launch of
Sputnik and established to research the efficient use of computers
for civilian and military applications.
During the 1960s, the RAND Corporation had begun to think about
how to design a military communications network that would be
invulnerable to a nuclear attack. Paul Baran, a RAND researcher
whose work was financed by the Air Force, produced a classified
report in 1964 proposing a radical solution to this communication
problem. Baran envisioned a decentralized network of different
types of "host" computers, without any central switchboard,
designed to operate even if parts of it were destroyed. The network
would consist of several "nodes," each equal in authority, each
capable of sending and receiving pieces of data.
Each data fragment could thus travel one of several routes to
its destination, such that no one part of the network would be
completely dependent on the existence of another part. An
experimental network of this type, funded by ARPA and thus known as
ARPANET, was established at four universities in 1969.
Researchers at any one of the four nodes could share
information, and could operate any one of the other machines
remotely, over the new network. (Actually, former ARPA head Charles
Herzfeld
says that distributing computing power over a network, rather
than creating a secure military command-and-control system, was the
ARPANET's original goal, though this is a minority view.)
By 1972, the number of host computers connected to the ARPANET
had increased to 37. Because it was so easy to send and retrieve
data, within a few years the ARPANET became less a network for
shared computing than a high-speed, federally subsidized,
electronic post office. The main traffic on the ARPANET was not
long-distance computing, but news and personal messages.
As parts of the ARPANET were declassified, commercial networks
began to be connected to it. Any type of computer using a
particular communications standard, or "protocol," was capable of
sending and receiving information across the network. The design of
these protocols was contracted out to private universities such as
Stanford and the University of London, and was financed by a
variety of federal agencies. The major thoroughfares or "trunk
lines" continued to be financed by the Department of Defense.
By the early 1980s, private use of the ARPA communications
protocol — what is now called "TCP/IP" — far exceeded
military use. In 1984 the National Science Foundation assumed the
responsibility of building and maintaining the trunk lines or
"backbones." (ARPANET formally expired in 1989; by that time hardly
anybody noticed). The NSF's Office of Advanced Computing financed
the internet's infrastructure from 1984 until 1994, when the
backbones were privatized.
In short, both the design and implementation of the internet
have relied almost exclusively on government dollars. The fact that
its designers envisioned a packet-switching network has serious
implications for how the internet actually works. For example,
packet switching is a great technology for file transfers, email,
and web browsing but not so good for real-time applications like
video and audio feeds, and, to a lesser extent, server-based
applications like webmail, Google Earth, SAP, PeopleSoft, and
Google
Spreadsheet.
Furthermore, without any mechanism for pricing individual
packets, the network is overused, like any public good. Every
packet is assigned an equal priority. A packet containing a
surgeon's diagnosis of an emergency medical procedure has exactly
the same chance of getting through as a packet containing part of
Coldplay's latest single or an online gamer's instruction to smite
his foe.
Because the sender's marginal cost of each transmission is
effectively zero, the network is overused, and often congested.
Like any essentially unowned resource, an open-ended
packet-switching network suffers from what Garrett Hardin famously
called the "Tragedy of the Commons."
In no sense can we say that packet-switching is the "right"
technology. One of my favorite quotes on this subject comes from
the Netbook,
a semi-official history of the internet:
"The current global computer network has been developed by
scientists and researchers and users who were free of market
forces. Because of the government oversight and subsidy of network
development, these network pioneers were not under the time
pressures or bottom-line restraints that dominate commercial
ventures. Therefore, they could contribute the time and labor
needed to make sure the problems were solved. And most were doing
so to contribute to the networking community."
In other words, the designers of the internet were "free" from
the constraint that whatever they produced had to satisfy consumer
wants.
We must be very careful not to describe the internet as a
"private" technology, a spontaneous order, or a shining example of
capitalistic ingenuity. It is none of these. Of course, almost all
of the internet's current applications — unforeseen by its
original designers — have been developed in the private
sector.
(Unfortunately, the original web and the web browser are not
among them, having been designed by the state-funded European
Laboratory for Particle Physics (CERN) and the University of
Illinois's NCSA.)
And today's internet would be impossible without the heroic
efforts at Xerox PARC and Apple to develop a useable graphical user
interface (GUI), a lightweight and durable mouse, and the Ethernet
protocol. Still, none of these would have been viable without the
huge investment of public dollars that brought the network into
existence in the first place.
Now, it is easy to admire the technology of the
internet. I marvel at it every day. But technological value is not
the same as economic value. That can only be determined by the free
choice of consumers to buy or not to buy. The ARPANET may well have
been technologically superior to any commercial networks that
existed at the time, just as Betamax may have been technologically
superior to VHS, the MacOS to MS-DOS, and Dvorak to QWERTY.
(Actually Dvorak
wasn't.)
But the products and features valued by engineers are not always
the same as those valued by consumers. Markets select for economic
superiority, not technological superiority (even in the presence of
nefarious "network effects," as shown convincingly by
Liebowitz and
Margolis).
Libertarian internet enthusiasts tend to forget
the fallacy of the broken window. We see the internet. We see
its uses. We see the benefits it brings. We surf the web and check
our email and download our music. But we will never see the
technologies that weren't developed because the resources
that would have been used to develop them were confiscated by the
Defense Department and given to Stanford engineers. Likewise, I may
admire the majesty and grandeur of an Egyptian pyramid, a TVA dam,
or a Saturn V rocket, but it doesn't follow that I think they
should have been created, let alone at taxpayer
expense.
What kind of global computer network would the market have
selected? We can only guess. Maybe it would be more like the
commercial online networks such as Comcast or MSN, or the private
bulletin boards of the 1980s. Most likely, it would use some kind
of pricing schedule, where different charges would be assessed for
different types of transmissions.
The whole idea of pricing the internet as a scarce resource
— and bandwidth is, given current technology, scarce, though
we usually don't notice this — is ignored in most proposals
to legislate network
neutrality, a form of "network socialism" that can only stymie
the internet's continued growth and development. The net neutrality
debate takes place in the shadow of government intervention. So too
the debate over the division
of the spectrum for wireless transmission. Any resource the
government controls will be allocated based on political
priorities.
Let us conclude: yes, the government was the founder of the
internet. As a result, we are left with a panoply of lingering
inefficiencies, misallocations, abuses, and political favoritism.
In other words, government involvement accounts for the internet's
continuing problems, while the market should get the credit for its
glories.
Peter G. Klein teaches economics at the University of Missouri.
Though once a techie — he created the
Institute's first
web pages back in 1994 — his skills have long since
atrophied. He blogs at
Organizations
and Markets. Send him
mail. See his
archive. Comment on the
blog.