Brin did manage to meet with senators John McCain and Barack Obama, and the topic was “network neutrality,” an effort by Google and others to ensure that the telephone and cable companies who provide high-speed access to the Internet didn’t charge higher fees to Web sites with heavy traffic. Around the time of Brin’s visit, an organization called Hands Off the Internet, financed by telecommunications companies, ran full-page newspaper advertisements accusing Google of wanting to create a monopoly and block “new innovation”; one ad featured a grainy photograph of a Google facility housing a sinister-looking “massive server farm.” Brin saw it for the warning it was. “I certainly realized we had to think about these things, and that people were going to misrepresent us,” he said. “We should be entitled to our representation in government.”
Like Microsoft in the late nineties, the Google leadership, “composed of ideological technologists,” as Schrage put it in 2007, was slow to appreciate the political and the human dimensions of the technical decisions it made. Schrage’s resume spans a law degree, years of teaching, a senior executive position at The Gap, and work as an international consultant on corporate social responsibility. He acknowledged that Google engineers were new to the ways of Washington. “Some call that naivete. Some might criticize this; others might applaud it. No question that people here regularly discuss Microsoft’s experience and use that as a cautionary tale.”
Later, meaning to explain rather than criticize, Schrage told me, “One can make the argument that the genes of technological innovation are frequently in conflict with emotional intelligence. Successful technological innovation is all about disruption. Effective emotional intelligence is all about collaboration, how you get talented people to work together and enjoy it.”
Collaboration was central to the thinking of Lawrence Lessig, who was widely hailed as an Internet oracle and was then teaching at Stanford Law School. Lessig had just been treated as such at Facebook, where he’d been invited to speak to its employees and expounded on the virtues of an open Web. Afterward, we had dinner at Il Fornaio in Palo Alto, which is a favorite Valley canteen, and there he asked, and answered, a central question people increasingly posed about Google: Is Google becoming what Microsoft was in 1998?
“The argument is that in an important way, they are the same,” he said. “In fact, whether now or soon, Google will have more power than Microsoft did at the time. Google’s power will extend to more than one layer of the network.” Microsoft’s power was its ability to leverage its potent operating system to control the various applications that use the operating system. So Microsoft offered a free browser to knock out the Netscape browser and attacked Java software that might “facilitate competition with the underlying operating system.”
Google’s power flows from a different source, he said. “They have produced this amazing machine for building data, and that data has its own ‘network effect’”-the more people who use it, the more data generated, the more advertisers flock to it. “Everything sits on top of that layer, starting with search. Every time you search, you give Google some value because you pick a certain result. And every time you pick a result, Google learns something from that. So each time you do a search, you’re adding value to Google’s data base. The data base becomes so rich that the advertising model that sits on top of it can out-compete other advertising models because it has better data… The potential here is actually that the data layer is more dangerous from a policy perspective because it cuts across layers of human life. So privacy and competition and access to commerce, and access to content-everything is driven by this underlying layer. Unlike the operating system, which couldn’t necessarily control the content that you got.
“The way they are different is that I don’t think there is any evidence that Google has misbehaved in the way Microsoft misbehaved when they tried to leverage the operating system to protect themselves against competition. So far, they’ve been good guys. But that leads to a question: Why do we expect them to be good guys from now till the end of time?”
Lessig, who benefits from the broad education and reading many Googlers lack, was nevertheless alert to how Google, like Microsoft, might become intoxicated by power and succumb to the same human failures. Of Google, he said, “I fear theirs is an old story about how good people deceive themselves. As Microsoft did in the nineties, you become so convinced that you are good that you become oblivious. I sense that is true at Google today. They’ve drunk the Kool-Aid.”
PART THREE. Google Versus the Bears
CHAPTER EIGHT. Chasing the Fox
(2005-2006)
Rupert Murdoch, the audacious and sometimes outrageous media mogul, made another move in July 2005 that unnerved his peers. He was in the habit of doing so. For four decades Murdoch’s News Corporation had been playing bold offense, forcing other media companies to defensively respond. Starting with a single newspaper in Australia, and then England, he build a newspaper empire in both countries, and forced the modernization of newspaper work rules in England. At a time when the audience for the three broadcast networks was aging, he had pioneered the Fox broadcast network, with its youth-oriented programming. He established satellite broadcasting that blanketed much of the globe. He eclipsed the once-dominant CNN in ratings with the Fox cable news network. Journalistically, his impact could be pernicious-spurring tabloid television with his syndicated A Current Affair, fomenting shrill, nineteenth-century press partisanship with Fox News, The Sun in London, and the New York Post. But even as he was disdained in certain quarters, he was always carefully watched. Media companies chase Rupert Murdoch as hounds do a fox.
Murdoch again shocked his peers when he acquired MySpace.com in July 2005 for $580 million. After just two years of existence, the youth-oriented social network and music site had sixteen million monthly visitors; that number would quadruple over the next fourteen months.
Before Murdoch’s announcement, it was expected that Sumner Redstone’s Viacom would lay claim to MySpace. It was a natural fit with Viacom’s MTV, with its own youthful audience of more than eighty million monthly viewers. And it was widely believed that Viacom CEO Tom Freston was close to making the acquisition. But before he could, Murdoch swooped in with a higher offer, which Redstone refused to match. Within months, Redstone had replaced Freston, grousing to associates that had he been more aggressive he could have sealed the MySpace deal. Actually, what happened, according to a Viacom official involved in the negotiations and confirmed by others, was this: “Rupert made a preemptive bid. Sumner told Tom he did not want to get into a bidding war.” The parsimonious Redstone had flashed a red light to Freston.
By acquiring MySpace, Murdoch intended to instill in News Corporation a fresh Web-centric sensibility. By contrast, when Viacom tried to instill its MTV television sensibility online with a music site called MTV Overdrive, it stumbled. In early 2007, MySpace cofounder Tom Anderson announced to the German magazine Der Spiegel, “I think we have replaced MTV MySpace is more convenient. You can search for things, while MTV is just delivering things to you. On MySpace, you can pick your own channel and go where you want. That’s why TV viewership is dropping among the MySpace generation.” MySpace had the traffic and the buzz. MTV had the profits, of course, which MySpace did not have. But Murdoch was nonetheless perceived as once again having set the pace for media companies.
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