Question: What is the single most valuable piece of property worth owning
at the dawn of the information age? Answer: The radio frequencies--the electromagnetic
spectrum--over which an increasing amount of communication and commercial
activity will be broadcast in the era of wireless communications. Our PCs,
palm pilots, wireless Internet, cellular phones, pagers, radios, and television
all rely on the radio frequencies of the spectrum to send and receive messages,
pictures, audio, data, etc.
Most of us never give the spectrum a passing thought. We regard it,
more or less, like the oxygen we breathe, as a free good. In reality,
the spectrum is treated as a 'commons' and is controlled and administered
by governments who, in turn, license the various radio frequencies
to commercial and other institutions for broadcast. But now powerful
commercial media are seeking to gain total control over the airwaves.
On February 7, 37 leading U.S. economists signed a joint letter asking
the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) to allow broadcasters to
lease spectrum they currently license from the government in secondary
markets. The letter, which went virtually unnoticed by the general
public, is the opening salvo in a radical plan to wrest control of
the entire spectrum from governments around the world, and make the
radio frequencies a private preserve of global media giants. If they
succeed, the nation state will have lost one of its last remaining
vestiges of real power--the ability to regulate access to broadcast
communications within its own geographic borders.
This story starts several years ago, when the Progress and Freedom Foundation,
a conservative think tank in Washington with close ties to Newt Gingrich,
former Speaker of the House of Representatives, published The Telecom
Revolution: An American Opportunity. The report's authors called for
the conversion of the electromagnetic spectrum to private property. Under
the plan, broadcasters holding existing licenses would be granted title
to the spectrum they currently used and would be able to use, develop,
sell, and trade it as they saw fit. Remaining unused parts of the spectrum
would subsequently be sold off to commercial enterprises and be reconstituted
as private electronic real estate, while the FCC would be abolished.
The study argued that government control of the radio frequencies
led to inefficiencies, and that if the spectrum were converted into
private electronic real estate that could be exchanged in the marketplace,
the invisible hand of supply and demand would dictate the most innovative
uses of those frequencies. Congressional hearings were subsequently
conducted on the proposal, quickening interest in the plan.
Still, the notion of selling off the U.S. airwaves to private commercial
interests seemed a bit too ambitious, even for the most experienced
Washington corporate lobbyists. Then, less than one month after George
Bush assumed the presidency, the letter from the 37 economists turned
up on the FCC's doorstep.
The new thinking: First, secure a partial privatization plan, allowing
commercial licensees to sell and lease their leased spectrum in secondary
markets. Once done, the commercial foundation would be laid for a final
conversion from government licensing of the spectrum to a future sell-off
to the private sector. Other nations would be encouraged to follow
suit and sell off their spectrums to global media companies. If some
balked at the idea of relinquishing control over their airwaves, international
trade sanctions could be imposed to force compliance.
In the industrial age, exchanging property in markets was the sine
qua non of commerce. The role of national governments was to protect
property and markets. But in the new commercial world being born, having
access to the flow of information in telecommunications networks becomes
at least as important as exchanging property in markets.
In an era where more and more of our daily communications take place
in cyberspace, access to the airwaves becomes critical. Of course,
those who can pay will be connected. But what about the 62% of people
who have never made a telephone call, and the 40% who have no electricity?
How will they ever secure access to cyberspace in a world where the
admission fee is controlled by a few global media giants?
If the flow of human communications is controlled by global media
companies, how do we ensure that social and cultural points of view
and political expressions that may differ from those of the companies
who own the frequencies will be allowed to flow over the spectrum?
We might face the prospect of a new form of repression as global media
companies tighten their grip on the airwaves.
Equally ominous, when companies like AOL-Time Warner, Disney, and
Vivendi Universal own the channels of communication as well as much
of the content that flows through them, will the rich cultural diversity
that has traditionally been created and nurtured in civil society dry
up? Will we be left with only a few global media companies as the ultimate
arbiters of human culture?
How do we prevent these companies from exerting undue influence over
commercial life itself, because of their control over the channels
of communications through which business is conducted? And finally,
in the new era, when everyone is connected with everyone else in commercial
information and telecommunications networks, what safeguards will people
have over their own privacy when every aspect of their life story is
accessible as data bits travelling over corporate-owned and controlled
communications channels?
At the dawn of the global media age more than 20 years ago, an American
government official made the prescient remark that "trade doesn't
follow the flag anymore, it follows the communication systems." When
our very right to communicate with one another is no longer assured
or secured by government but controlled by global media conglomerates,
can basic freedoms and real democracy continue to exist?
Jeremy Rifkin is the author of The Age of Access and president
of The Foundation on Economic Trends in Washington
DC. This article originally appeared in the London Guardian on
April 28, 2001. No re-prints of this article
are permitted without permission from the
author. |