Digital Debates is an attempt to highlight perspectives, diagnoses and solutions for the future of our digital world that are not necessarily rooted in technology. By design or sheer circumstance, contributors to Digital Debates this year have not only dwelled on the many tensions agitating cyberspace, they have also argued that the political, social or economic realignments triggered by this medium may ultimately settle into a new normal.

The following is the introductory note from the upcoming publication Digital Debates 2019 — The CyFy Journal.

2019 will sputter to an end with unresolved anxieties about the future of emerging technologies, and their relationship with our societies. Sean Kanuck, our distinguished colleague and fellow chair of CyFy, identifies four trends that appear to be reinforcing these anxieties: “insecurity, disinformation, anti-globalisation, and un-enlightenment.” As is wont for these times, Sean contributes a new phrase to define the zeitgeist: “indisantiun”. They represent drivers of change that, by themselves, have little to do with the digital domain. Like their Biblical counterparts, these horsemen of the digital apocalypse represent malaises residual in 20th century global governance: economic and social exclusion, lack of transparency in the business of government, pervasive xenophobia, and a profoundly anti-elite, anti-intellectual tendency that is on the rise. These problems may have been seeded in the previous century, but attempts to resolve them using 20th century institutions, regimes and coalitions have come a cropper.

Kanuck’s contribution to the Digital Debates is one amongst fifteen essays for this edition of Digital Debates that are divided equally between five animating themes: Individual, Livelihood, Society, Governance and Conflict. We chose these themes to allow authors to explore comprehensively, the implications of digital technologies from their own unique vantage points as scholars and practitioners. Many of our contributors shared Sean’s assessment of a more insecure and anxious world. In fact, “Indisantiun” may well capture the inability of current global governance arrangements to respond to broader, technology-fuelled disruptions and their disquieting consequences.

We attempt here to tie these themes together, and to present (what we hope is) a coherent picture of the virtual world in 2019. As the most granular, and perhaps most consequential, unit of this world, it is fitting that the first set of essays address the anxieties haunting the individual. The platformisation of the public sphere may have democratised expression — or atleast deepened it through encrypted communications — its by-product has been the creation of new infrastructure designed to extract data and expand surveillance. This has created a paradoxical situation for individuals: the more they interact with digital spaces, ostensibly to exercise their freedoms, the more vulnerable they are to rights abuses — by private actors, their own sovereign, or even a foreign one. This has created a new type of insecurity, one where individuals are “simultaneously under attack and being weaponised” –as Nikhil Pahwa argues–by the influence of digital technologies on their social lives. Tanuj Bhojwani offers a provocative rebuttal to Pahwa, suggesting the notion of unfettered individual agency over digital networks is nothing but a “techno-utopia”. However, he agrees that the framing of platforms as “mere marketplaces” is problematic.

Concurrently, digital technologies have also altered the relationship between labour, capital and productivity. For much of the past century, a nation’s Gross Domestic Product — the sum total of goods and services produced — was considered an accurate picture of its economic, indeed political, health. This will not be a reliable metric for the digital economy, which will likely be characterised by incremental or marginal innovation, diffused supply chains and the “gig” economy that runs on shared resources — all, in turn, fuelled by the aggregation of data. There is great uncertainty about how to quantify the relationship between these independent variables, how they will affect development outcomes and what this implies for livelihoods in advanced and emerging markets. The essays under the theme of ‘Livelihood’ capture perfectly the nuances of this debate. While Winston Ma’s piece speaks to the potential of digital technologies in bridging 20^th century development divides, Aditi Kumar responds by clinically dissecting the inequities inherent in digital workforces of the 21^st century. Astha Kapoor and Sarayu Natarajan argue India in particular is becoming a “hot bed for micro-tasks” in the digital economy — especially in areas like data labelling — which could ‘invisibilise’ labour and further exclude those at the margin. They too emphasise a shift away from “static notions” of productivity and a more rounded view of “well-being”.

Whatever be the causal pathways, personal, political and economic insecurity has created a backlash against established forms of governance in domestic regimes. The dynamic between the individual, private platforms and the state is constantly in flux, prompting institutions of government to play catch-up. The social contract between the citizen and state is being usurped by private, digital platforms, who through their privacy policies confer on the individual rights that governments are reluctant to endorse. Conversely, they have begun to exercise “eminent domain” over the property of the individual in the digital age: data. In short, there is wide overlap between the functions of a platform and the state — of regulating speech, providing social protections, creating employment opportunities and ensuring national security. Rules and norms to govern these interactions are yet to fully mature, leading to uncertainty in the social contract and, as James Lewis points out, a crisis in the legitimacy of domestic norms and institutions.

The flux in domestic regimes is reflective of the churn in the international order. Connectivity between nations and mutual gains from trade, according to conventional wisdom, was expected to heighten the stakes for war or even limited conflict. Digital connectivity, however has created a new set of tensions. Digital spaces are effectively a “system of systems”, from cell towers and routers, to platforms and applications. Taken together, they reflect the digital interactions of entire nations, sans the neat segregation of boundaries which has been the edifice of 20th century politics. This infrastructure is not neutral; instead, as Arindrajit Basu argues, it is political. Cyberspace is not merely a reflection of geopolitics in the “offline” world, but has rendered it even more chaotic by adding vectors of political contest: 5G, influence operations, the Dark Net…the list is long. Isolation is no longer a feasible strategy. Dennis Broeders refers to our times as an era of “unpeace” — a time of both messy interdependence, and of friction and conflict. To be sure, history offers precedents — think of continental Europe before the first World War — but the arena is different this time, and poses a new set of challenges. Anushka Kaushik’s lucid exposition of the attribution dilemma in cyberspace exemplifies the problem: without actors to blame, who is responsible for the malaises of the digital age?

Our authors seem secularly skeptical of prospects to navigate these problems. Nevertheless, we remain optimists. The faultlines emerging today across communities and states are not a factor of digital technologies, but of problems that predate their global popularity. As Philip Reiner notes, “insecurity always has, and always will persist, in varying degrees of flux.” Disruptions exacerbated by digital technologies are an opportunity to re-conceive and adopt templates for domestic and international governance that are responsive and agile — but also rooted in ideas that were paid lip service in the last century: equity and sustainable development.

‘Digital Debates’ is an attempt to do just this — to highlight perspectives, diagnoses and solutions for the future of our digital world that are not necessarily rooted in technology. We are grateful to our authors for having fulfilled their mandates splendidly. By design or sheer circumstance, contributors to Digital Debates this year have not only dwelled on the many tensions agitating cyberspace, they have also argued that the political, social or economic realignments triggered by this medium may ultimately settle into a new normal.

Perhaps the most important of these realignments is the coming to terms of democracies with the introduction of digital technologies in our public sphere. We have, in a manner of speaking, entered a post-internet world. Previous evolutions in media and production technologies(such as the radio or the steam engine) dramatically altered the demands and methods of governance. It is not unexpected that a similar moment is upon us today. Despite present concerns around polarisation and inequality, it was comforting for us to see that each of our pieces on the theme ‘society’ were unanimous in their belief that our democracies possessed the ability to self-correct. Mihir S. Sharma argues that the problems plaguing digital governance has to be treated on its own merit. Whether the management of digital spaces is democratic is, he writes, a separate question from whether they promote democracy. Terri Chapman responds to that poser, calling for greater “explainability” in algorithmic decision-making.

A course correction is indeed being embraced by, or forced upon technology platforms. Whether it is protests against military contracts with governments, allegations of bias and partisanship, or disquiet at their sheer monopolistic power, the governance and ethics of technology platforms are being questioned more severely than ever before. Paula Kift recognises that this new backlash stems from an “internal rift” (irreconcilable, perhaps?) between ideals and business practices. Consequently, we see boardrooms responding to popular concerns. New ethics and oversight practices, institutional cooperation with the state, and new user controls are all evolving to create — or atleast, attempt to — accountable and transparent regimes for the technology industry.

Processes and conduits of globalisation are also under pressure to respond more effectively to local communities or interests. In the 20^th century, economic connectivity was a process moulded by a small set of state and private actors. Digital spaces have undermined this monopoly, allowing individuals and communities to agitate for representative global economic decision making. Civil society coalitions that challenged the provisions of the Trans-Pacific Partnership, and its negotiation in secrecy, were lent a fillip by the internet, lending them instant access to allies and like-minded partners in distant lands. Most crucially, we see such digital disruption playing out in the development sector — where innovations from Asia and Africa are creating platform-based solutions for the next six billion. Their technological pathways to development and policy frameworks will be digital-first by design, and perhaps capable of providing the templates the world so desperately needs.

And finally, our contributors also recognised the character of our international community has changed in the digital world. Lydia Kostopoulous reminds us of the complexity of this new moment: where digital spaces are pervasive, but also interact with and operate within sovereign boundaries, each with their own political contexts. Resolving this contradiction will require efforts that are capable of bridging the disconnect between 19^th century Westphalian understandings and the realities of a 21^st century digital world. It is our hope that CyFy will be a platform to discover such solutions. We express our sincere thanks to contributors to this volume for setting the stage for the two days of debates and discussions that follow.

The 1970s saw heated debates in the international community with regard to the ownership of natural resources, centered on the methods and institutions that would manage their price and supply, and the strategic routes and chokepoints that determined access to these resources. Oil was the most important such resource—simultaneously a fuel for 20th century industrialization and a source of geopolitical instability and risk.

In time, the international order did create a new set of arrangements – although not always efficiently. The UN adopted a resolution guaranteeing states’ sovereignty over their national resources — remember the New International Economic Order (NIEO)? — and while cartels like the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) became critical to negotiating prices, the sea lanes were protected by mandates under international maritime law. In fact, it would be the US, which opposed the NIEO, that stayed out of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea for fear it would impede commercial exploitation of the deep seabed.

It is not hard to see why the management of oil was a contentious affair. Like data today, oil was a crucial input for economic, military and strategic advancement. And as such was a perennial cause for tensions in international politics, which is why the comparison continues to enjoy relevance. Similar concerns animate data governance: ownership, economic growth and national security.

Nevertheless, this characterization of data does not always present an accurate template for policymaking. As negotiations on cross-border data flows continue to exacerbate multilateral and bilateral tensions, it is essential for India to appreciate why the ‘data is oil’ analogy is important, and where it falls short. Delhi must prioritise three considerations in this debate.

The first relates to national security. Unlike oil, the flow of data creates a wealth of information that provides granular insights into the preferences, habits and behaviours of individuals and large communities. For centuries, such information was considered essential to intelligence gathering and statecraft. Even today, it is a force multiplier for national power.

The proliferation of data and digital systems has created a very wide catchment area for the application of state interests. Protecting natural resources was a function of a states’ military power; securing cyberspace, however, will require strong cooperation between governments, platforms and academia. In the US, technology platforms are increasingly frontline actors in national security decision-making. How should net-data exporters like India that are dependent on foreign technology systems manage these risks? So far, no reliable templates have emerged.

The second is economic. Unlike physical commodities, the value of data does not necessarily accrue to those who exercise jurisdiction over it. The largest oil companies, whether owned privately or by the state, belong to those nations with easy access to the resource. In many cases, businesses are offered very long-term leases over a resource whose ownership by the state is not disputed. However, while India is home to 600 million active internet users, North America hosts 13 of the world’s 15-largest technology companies by market capitalization, with China hosting the remaining two.

Therefore, the value of data is captured not at the point of extraction but in transit — when it flows, and supports new products, business methods and industries. Indeed, data flows already generate more value in the global economy than goods and services. This may be an obvious point, but its implications are not. The regimes managing the globalization of goods, services and capital were written to privilege Western economic interests. And while developing states enjoyed economic gains from the outsourcing of manufacturing industries, the value addition from investments, royalties and taxes were almost entirely captured by the West.

There is a real risk that digital globalization will lead to the same outcomes. Restricting the flow of data alone will not remedy the challenges for India. However, Delhi should use this moment to renegotiate the commercial, financial and intellectual property regimes that will govern the flow not only of data, but that of wealth and people. The flow of Indian data and personal information cannot be freely bartered. It must be conditional on an architecture that prioritizes equitable development and economic outcomes.

The final consideration is political. Many argue that data should not be thought of as a resource or commodity at all; rather, it should be regarded as the sole and exclusive property of the individual. Data cannot, after all, be mined in isolation – it is the digital interactions of humans and technologies that produce an infinite supply of raw data. In this, data is entirely dissimilar to natural resources. (That said, some analogies can be drawn: what is the point of conferring property rights to underprivileged Indians if their social and cultural status prevents them from exercising this right?) The human rights implications of data generation and flows certainly necessitate the creation of a new set of legislative and institutional protections for individuals.

Nevertheless, it is hard to imagine that this responsibility belongs to actors other than the state. Silicon Valley cannot wear the mantle of a guarantor of rights, because technology companies are exactly what they are: companies. When these platforms are unresponsive to the concerns of their own sovereigns, the probability that they will devote resources to developing states is low.

Moreover, even if data is thought of as inherent to individuals, the Westphalian order continues to privilege the authority of the state in determining the mobility of individuals and their property.

During the Doha round of WTO negotiations at the turn of the century, there was intense debate about the modalities for labour mobility. Under the proposed GATS regime, fast-track pathways would facilitate the mobility of highly skilled labour, while low and medium-skill workers were left out of the bargain – despite the fact that most developing countries enjoyed a comparative advantage in these categories. As it was then, it is hypocritical for the developed world to pick and choose which individuals, and which ‘parts’ of the individual (read: data) can flow freely.

Despite what the thrust of this piece might suggest, data should flow freely. This is the most optimal outcome for the international community. However, this process cannot occur in isolation. This piece is a provocation to address some of the regulatory impulses that have driven the push for localization. Cross-border data flows are compelling structural changes in the global economy. Unless complimentary and ancillary rules and institutions mature, the benefits of these flows will be distributed unequally, creating new digital divides and national security risks. It would be against India’s national interest to uncritically accede to regimes that mandate free flows of data without accommodating its political, development and security concerns.

This article originally appeared in World Economic Forum