Lessons for Policymakers in 'Read Write Own'
What DC Can and Must Learn from CD
Network design matters. That is the core insight of Read Write Own, venture capitalist Chris Dixon’s new book on the promise of crypto and the future of the Internet.
While crypto skeptics are among Dixon’s implicit audience, his book is not so much a defense of crypto as it is a positive vision of the technology’s ability to restore and build upon the Internet’s original creative dynamism. One of the book’s strengths is its eras tour (forgive me) through key phases of the Internet’s evolution and impact on culture.
The book offers ideas worth reflecting on for anons with NFTs as their PFPs, as well as people who don’t know what any of those words mean. But the audience, perhaps, most in need of Read Write Own’s lessons on what crypto is and why it matters is the public policy community. Because, unfortunately, network architectures of the future will not only arise out of the choices of entrepreneurs, developers, and users—as they should—but also from those of politicians and regulators. And right now, U.S. policymakers’ choices regarding crypto networks are destructive.
What lawmakers and regulators should take away from Read Write Own is the potential of crypto networks to provide an alternative to a tech status quo that they themselves, rightly or wrongly, have lamented of late. At the very least, policymakers should not seek to kill off crypto through the express and de facto bans that have heretofore characterized too much of U.S. crypto policy as proposed and practiced.
So, what is crypto’s promise according to Dixon? To explain that potential, Dixon guides readers through three Internet eras, culminating in one with blockchain networks at its core.
First, there was the “Read” era (1990-2005). It was a time of openness characterized by email and web browsing. The defining network architecture of the Read era was the “protocol network,” a “permissionless” tech layer upon which anyone could build applications without the say so of a “capricious gatekeeper.”
Permissionless protocols enabled a Cambrian explosion of digital life, as well as market competition and user exit rights. The dissatisfied user of an email client or web browser, for example, was free to find or build an alternative. Similarly, because users could own their own Internet names—i.e., “control the mapping” between their domain names and the IP addresses of machines hosting their sites—they could easily switch webhosting providers and, critically, retain their network connections (e.g., inbound links and emails) in the process. This kept webhosts honest and network relationships intact.
These defining features of the Read era stand in contrast with what came next: the “Read-Write” era (approximately 2006 to 2020), which was defined, in Dixon’s view, by centrally controlled and permissioned “corporate networks,” including those of familiar social media brands. On these platforms, the corporate owners call the shots on user access, data collection, content moderation, algorithm design, ad pricing, and creator compensation.
The Read-Write era has had both benefits and drawbacks, according to Dixon. On the one hand, he writes, “corporate networks democratized publishing,” allowing the average user to reach broad audiences. In addition, these platforms helped bring billions online, and the corporate model let them “quickly develop advanced features, attract investment, and accrue profits to reinvest in growth.”
But the Read-Write era also posed challenges to the early Internet’s spirit of creativity and user empowerment. Unlike protocol networks, corporate networks could and did control what developers were able to build atop them. One day corporate network owners might provide open developer interfaces (e.g., APIs) and cultivate third-party developer ecosystems, but the next they might shut them down. In addition, unlike with domain names on the web, on corporate networks, the platform controls users’ names and, therefore, their connections: if you close your account, “you lose your network.” A creator relying on a corporate network for distribution, for example, would have to weigh the loss of her following before exiting a platform in the wake of an unfavorable tweak to the algorithm or change in the compensation scheme.
It’s worth pausing here to reflect on how policymakers have responded to the era of the corporate network. Whether they realize it or not, in bemoaning “Big Tech”—including platforms’ data and content policies—certain policymakers are taking issue with a particular type of network architecture. Accordingly, when the same leaders express antipathy toward crypto technology—which is at core an innovation in network design—they often end up contradicting themselves.
The next era, “Read-Write-Own,” features blockchain networks as alternatives to the corporate network status quo. According to Dixon, “Blockchain networks combine the societal benefits of protocol networks with the competitive advantages of corporate networks.” Specifically, they blend attributes like openness to developer creativity and user independence with the ability to attract talent and resources by giving users a stake in the underlying network.
How so? For one, blockchains—like protocol networks—are permissionless: they allow any developer to build atop them. In addition, they’re rulebound. To resist manipulation, blockchain systems incentivize software programs on distributed computers to follow the same rulebook and check each other’s work. They therefore enable technologies to, in Dixon’s words, “make strong commitments about their future behavior—that any code they run will continue to operate as designed.” This predictability means application developers need not fear being suddenly cut off. In addition, users’ ability to own and control their accounts and assets preserves their identities and relationships within a network, allowing them to “switch applications with their names and connections intact.”
When it comes to blockchain networks’ ability to attract talent and resources to their projects, a key driver, according to Dixon, is “token incentives.” Whereas the protocol networks of the Read era typically lacked the means to pay their developers compelling rates, blockchain networks can compensate contributors—users and developers alike—with the networks’ own native crypto tokens. Owning a piece of the network can help align users’ and developers’ interests with the success of the network as a whole. Moreover, these tokens can let holders vote on network updates, giving users voice over network governance and helping to make networks accountable to their stakeholders.
Why do blockchain networks matter? In Dixon’s view, blockchains’ key properties are essential to restoring artistry and autonomy on the web. For example, crypto software typically is “composable”—meaning tools can be assembled and re-assembled in novel combinations like interoperable Lego blocks. As Dixon writes, the “reason composability is so powerful is that it combines multiple forces”: encapsulation (pieces are modular), reusability (the proverbial wheel needn’t be continually reinvented), and the wisdom of crowds (lots of talent ends up contributing).
In addition, blockchains provide novel ways to govern networks. Their governance mechanisms “are constitutions for networks” that “can codify virtually any governance system that can be written in English as a step-by-step procedure.” For example, blockchains can employ a variety of amendment and decision-making mechanisms, including rules for offering and voting on proposals and even the separation of powers. In an era of alienation from seemingly unaccountable institutions, tools enabling community-led constitutional governance should not be abandoned lightly.
Moreover, crypto is all about digital ownership. Users, not platforms, can control and dispose of their digital assets as they see fit. And in addition to interchangeable crypto tokens that can function as a form of currency, crypto tokens also can be stamped as unique or “non-fungible.” For example, all dollars look the same and are worth the same. But a Warhol original and a Warhol poster—however superficially similar—fetch very different prices. The same principle can be applied to digital assets—so-called non-fungible tokens, or NFTs. In enabling digital scarcity, NFTs could allow digital creators to be more like Warhols than like copy shops.
Because NFTs are natively embedded in networks, they also can be used as exclusive passes to rewards or fan clubs and tools for maintaining audience relationships. And because NFT ownership is recorded on public, tamper-resistant ledgers, crypto networks enable trustworthy provenance, as well as the possibility of different kinds of automated royalty payments. This and other blockchain network functionality (e.g., predictable rules, community governance, and composable software) may be critical to both crediting and compensating creators in a world awash in the output of generative AI. The robust toolkit these features offer may help us develop new ways to distinguish human-created and AI-created content, as well as to remunerate the creators of content used to train AI models.
Will these possibilities come to pass? Some already have. And with others, time will tell. This last point is critical, for as Dixon himself makes clear, “Entrepreneurs and developers who build the future are always going to outsmart armchair predictions.” And they’re certainly going to defy the capacity of regulators and lawmakers to predict what comes next. For that reason, let’s keep the future of network design in the hands of the entrepreneurs, developers, and users and not the ultimate “capricious gatekeepers” in DC. Or, in other words, the core lesson of Read Write Own for policymakers is simple: let them build.