ActivityPub, the protocol that powers the fediverse (including Mastodon – same caveats as the first two times, will be used interchangeably, deal with it) is not private. It is not even semi-…
This is a service for publishing your thoughts, your links, etc.; of course it’s not private. If you put something out in the public view, anyone can copy it. That’s not a fact about the Fediverse; it’s a fact about what it means to publish something.
The same is true if you print your thoughts on paper and distribute them as flyers in your local town square. Anyone can grab one and keep it; later on, they can tell people what it says. That is not a privacy failure; it’s a publicity success.
While it’s true that the Fediverse is primarily a platform for sharing thoughts and content publicly, privacy concerns arise when users might inadvertently share sensitive information or when data gets accessed without their consent. I believe striking the right balance between sharing publicly and safeguarding privacy is crucial. Users should be aware of the privacy settings and be cautious about the information they share, even in a public space, to ensure a safer and more secure experience on the Fediverse.
Sure. However, characterizing this as a privacy failure is egregiously wrong.
Imagine this scenario:
You walk into the public park in your hometown. Someone has put a machine there with a keyboard on it. It has a sign on it that says, “Any words you type here will be automatically copied to hundreds of machines owned by different people all around the world.”
If you type words into it, they are indeed copied to hundreds of machines owned by different people all around the world.
That is not a privacy failure.
It’s a publicity success.
Nobody is fooling you into copying your medical records or your criminal history into that machine. You can type into it whatever you like. You can post URLs. You can post poop emojis like Elon Musk does. You can post tankie propaganda. You can create seventeen different fake identities and post ASCII art of your gonads.
None of that is a privacy problem.
Now, if seventeen years later you want to take back some things that you wrote, because you live in Florida and it’s run by the DeHitler Party, yeah, you’ve got a problem. But that problem is no different from if you had written a print magazine article or a book with your anti-DeHitler views.
Indeed, the Fediverse operates on the premise of public visibility, allowing users to share their thoughts and content with a broad audience. It’s more about publicity than privacy.
However, the concerns about privacy in the Fediverse arise not from the act of sharing content itself, but rather from the potential risks associated with sharing personal information unintentionally or without proper consent. While people are aware that their posts are public, there can still be instances where sensitive data is inadvertently exposed, leading to unintended consequences.
Moreover, the issue isn’t limited to the immediate act of posting but extends to the longevity and persistence of data. Information shared on the Fediverse may persist on various servers, and as you pointed out, circumstances or perspectives might change over time. Ensuring that users have control over their data, even after many years, is a crucial aspect of privacy protection.
The intent is not to stifle free expression or prevent people from sharing their thoughts openly. Rather, it’s about empowering users to maintain control over their data and make informed decisions about what they share, with whom, and for how long. Striking a balance between publicity and privacy is essential in fostering a healthy and respectful online environment.
Does a person have a right to distribute their thoughts in a way they can’t take back?
For instance, do I have the right to print my words on paper and hand them out to people in the town square?
If I do that, I cannot subsequently chase all those people down and demand that they destroy their copies of my words.
The notion of a “right to be forgotten” entails that if I give you a book I have written, that you must keep track of me so that I may later demand that you burn that book. This is directly contrary to your right to retain that book as your personal property; to our culture’s right to retain historical facts that I might later find politically inconvenient; etc.
This is a service for publishing your thoughts, your links, etc.; of course it’s not private. If you put something out in the public view, anyone can copy it. That’s not a fact about the Fediverse; it’s a fact about what it means to publish something.
The same is true if you print your thoughts on paper and distribute them as flyers in your local town square. Anyone can grab one and keep it; later on, they can tell people what it says. That is not a privacy failure; it’s a publicity success.
While it’s true that the Fediverse is primarily a platform for sharing thoughts and content publicly, privacy concerns arise when users might inadvertently share sensitive information or when data gets accessed without their consent. I believe striking the right balance between sharing publicly and safeguarding privacy is crucial. Users should be aware of the privacy settings and be cautious about the information they share, even in a public space, to ensure a safer and more secure experience on the Fediverse.
Sure. However, characterizing this as a privacy failure is egregiously wrong.
Imagine this scenario:
You walk into the public park in your hometown. Someone has put a machine there with a keyboard on it. It has a sign on it that says, “Any words you type here will be automatically copied to hundreds of machines owned by different people all around the world.”
If you type words into it, they are indeed copied to hundreds of machines owned by different people all around the world.
That is not a privacy failure.
It’s a publicity success.
Nobody is fooling you into copying your medical records or your criminal history into that machine. You can type into it whatever you like. You can post URLs. You can post poop emojis like Elon Musk does. You can post tankie propaganda. You can create seventeen different fake identities and post ASCII art of your gonads.
None of that is a privacy problem.
Now, if seventeen years later you want to take back some things that you wrote, because you live in Florida and it’s run by the DeHitler Party, yeah, you’ve got a problem. But that problem is no different from if you had written a print magazine article or a book with your anti-DeHitler views.
Indeed, the Fediverse operates on the premise of public visibility, allowing users to share their thoughts and content with a broad audience. It’s more about publicity than privacy.
However, the concerns about privacy in the Fediverse arise not from the act of sharing content itself, but rather from the potential risks associated with sharing personal information unintentionally or without proper consent. While people are aware that their posts are public, there can still be instances where sensitive data is inadvertently exposed, leading to unintended consequences.
Moreover, the issue isn’t limited to the immediate act of posting but extends to the longevity and persistence of data. Information shared on the Fediverse may persist on various servers, and as you pointed out, circumstances or perspectives might change over time. Ensuring that users have control over their data, even after many years, is a crucial aspect of privacy protection.
The intent is not to stifle free expression or prevent people from sharing their thoughts openly. Rather, it’s about empowering users to maintain control over their data and make informed decisions about what they share, with whom, and for how long. Striking a balance between publicity and privacy is essential in fostering a healthy and respectful online environment.
Does a person have a right to distribute their thoughts in a way they can’t take back?
For instance, do I have the right to print my words on paper and hand them out to people in the town square?
If I do that, I cannot subsequently chase all those people down and demand that they destroy their copies of my words.
The notion of a “right to be forgotten” entails that if I give you a book I have written, that you must keep track of me so that I may later demand that you burn that book. This is directly contrary to your right to retain that book as your personal property; to our culture’s right to retain historical facts that I might later find politically inconvenient; etc.