high quality, so gatekeeping might
help keep malicious or poor-quality
apps away.
On the other hand, people don’t
know what they’re missing—and
firms can be very ineffective, despite
their own economic interests, in recognizing the value of truly novel contributions from outsiders that might
take a while to catch on. Who would
have invested in Wikipedia at the beginning? And if Wikipedia required
an incumbent gatekeeper’s approval
or permission to get started, it might
have failed to receive it—or languished
at the bottom of a to-do list among
hundreds of other apps and services
awaiting review.
This phenomenon isn’t exclusive to
Apple, of course. Even today’s PCs have
a flavor of it. Microsoft offers a monthly
malicious software removal tool, which
unobtrusively goes through a PC to remove malware. Presumably it would
become much less popular if Microsoft, or someone regulating Microsoft,
tried to use the tool to remove software
that people liked; no one seems to have
tried to get Microsoft to kill anything
yet, though, and such attempts are
limited since any new app can immediately be installed on a PC—including
one that shuts down a Microsoft app-removal tool.
Back on the whitelisting side of
the spectrum, Web development platforms like Facebook Apps have restrictions that essentially mirror those of
the iPhone. And when Facebook kills
an app, the app is naturally not only
unavailable to new users, but disabled
for current ones, too. So Superwall or
Secret Crush can go from millions of
users to zero in a heartbeat. People
learn about new apps through their
friends’ Facebook newsfeeds—and
Facebook can adjust just how much
news an app will generate there. A
Great Apps program allows Facebook
to pick winners and feature them more
openly, even as some developers grumble that the functionalities they build
are sometimes incorporated into apps
written by Facebook itself2—and then
effortlessly promoted more than the
outsiders’ original.
Its modest malicious software removal tool aside, imagine if Microsoft had
adjusted Windows to act the way the iPhone and Facebook apps platforms do.
the iPhone apps
model is powerful,
and it is serving
some useful purpose
in shielding people,
prospectively
and retroactively,
against bad code.
WordPerfect would owe Microsoft
30% on sales of every copy of its word
processor—if it sold any, since Word
could be featured by Microsoft to its
users much more readily, or rejected
entirely as duplicative of Word. (
Recall that a main basis for the Microsoft antitrust case in the 1990s arose
from Microsoft’s attempts to force
PC sellers to include the Internet Explorer browser on their PCs’ desktops
out of the box. The ways in which Facebook or Apple can feature their own
apps over those of others dwarf that.)
Of course, Microsoft could change
that percentage owed at any time—or
make it a flat fee. The makers of, say,
Quicken, could find that they owe 70%
or 80% on every app, take it or leave
it. If they leave it, Quicken would stop
working on every PC on which it had
previously been installed.
And anyone objecting to an app—
say, the movie and music industries
beholding the rise of Kazaa or BitTor-rent—could pressure Microsoft to kill it
the day it appeared. We recently experienced this scenario when Hasbro, owner of the intellectual property rights to
Scrabble in the U.S. and Canada, pressured Facebook to kill Scrabulous, a
Scrabble knockoff. No court needed to
weigh in on this decision.
We likely wouldn’t accept this situation in PC architecture, and yet it is
commonplace in the ecosystem that
will soon replace it. Is the difference
that Microsoft had overwhelming
market share—an acknowledged
monopoly—over PCs? That certainly counts, but even if one vendor
doesn’t capture the mobile phone or
social networking spaces, the choices
among them are shaping up to be
choices among gated communities:
equivalent to the old AOL vs. Prodigy
vs. CompuServe, with the Internet
not in the running. This is one reason
why Google’s Android project is so
fascinating: an attempt to bring the
generativity of the PC to the mobile
phone space. Without a security model better than the PC’s security provisions, however, Android is a tough
proposition. How long will users tolerate a phone for which clicking on
the wrong link can disable it?
The iPhone apps model is powerful,
and it is serving some useful purpose
in shielding people, prospectively and
retroactively, against bad code. It is so
powerful and popular that we will see
it extended to PC-like platforms, too,
with the 30-year run of open season for
new software drawing to a close.
The way forward—for both PCs and
smartphones—lies in a new security
architecture that lets users make better-informed decisions about whether to
run new software. We could aggregate
data and make it freely available—how
many experts have installed this same
code? On average, what impact does the
code have on the environment in which
it runs, as measured by crashes or pop-ups or user satisfaction? A user deciding whether to run new code could use
that data to make a simple decision,
instead of letting the autocratic voice
of preprogrammed security software
dictate the result. Such an architecture
would be more flexible than what we
currently use. There are many details
to work out, but without ways of managing our generative platforms without
a central gatekeeper, chances seem
strong that most people will accept—
even demand—outside control.
References
1. computers in use pass 1 billion mark: gartner.
reuters (June 23, 2008); www.reuters.com/article/
technologynews/idusl2324525420080623.
22. stone, b. new tool from facebook extends its web
presence. New York Times (July 24, 2008); www.
nytimes.com/2008/07/24/technology/24facebook.
html.
3. zittrain, J. The Future of the Internet—And How
to Stop It. yale university Press, Penguin u. K., and
creative commons, 2008; www.futureoftheinternet.
org/download.
Jonathan Zittrain ( zittrain@law.harvard.edu) is Professor
of law at harvard law school in cambridge, ma.