I walk north to campus, and watch as the students walk absentmindedly to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings ready to sit through class, likely just to get some online shopping done while a professor talks at them. I had been one of them, until I failed out. However, I didn't fail out because I wasn’t smart enough, or didn’t try hard enough. I failed out because I vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system “Canvas” and had missed necessary assignments to my courses. Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to work with me on getting my work done outside of the usual processes, but most saw it as too much effort and gave me no options in the matter. As a result, I was unable to get enough credits to finish my degree, after all, Professor Moglen only taught so many classes. So, I turned back around and headed to my apartment.

There, I did some reading and wrote about how screwed we were as a society. Unfortunately, my research abilities were significantly slighted by the constant account-making requirements that I saw as a breach into my personal affairs. Making fake accounts could only get me so far. With what I could scrape up, I finished my essay titled “Don’t You See Where We’re Headed” and sent it off to a litany of major newspapers and blog sites. I figured I’d have more luck with the latter. I went to call my girlfriend to let her know that I had finished it, and glumly remembered that she had left me. I thought about the last things she said to me, “You only talk to me on your terms! Why can’t I call or text YOU when I need to talk!” She had not been too pleased with my response, requiring privacy and preferring to chat in person, and walked away. I had heard through a friend she was seeing a new guy, assuredly someone who was much more accessible than myself. My friend was one of my few connections to the social world left. I used to have more, but the majority of them found it too troublesome to communicate with me over encrypted email or similar, low profile means.

So, I emailed my family. They still love me, even though they were not at all shy in expressing their disappointment in my life choices. After a quick nap, I made dinner. I ate it and opened my book to pass the time before I got sleepy again. I headed upstairs. As I laid down in bed ready to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it worth it, I thought? Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood to my values. But what did it cost me? My job, my degree, my girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could serve to be the inspiration for a few others to wake up to the surveillance state we could be heading towards. But was I happy? Would there be enough people like me out there to make a difference? I hoped so. If not, I had thrown it all away for nothing.

Perhaps I could have gotten away with it. Perhaps people would have had no choice but to submit to my tenuous restrictions, if I had been incredibly good at my job, if I had been an incredibly passionate romantic, if I had been the perfect friend. But, I was just an average Joe, and there are many Joes out there willing to make people’s lives a lot easier, at the cost of their submission to Big Tech. As such there was no need for me. I fell asleep, resting easy knowing I was a man of principle.

I paragraphed the text, because as a reader, let alone editor, I found myself unable to cope with the relentlessness otherwise. Pardon my disruption of the Joycean stream of consciousness, which you are free to reassemble, of course.

Precisely because this is law school, narratives in which it is impossible to be effectual and have principles are of limited use. We need the draft in which having principles and making compromises are both parts of the ways in which we are lawyers, precisely because we can give effect to our principles. Otherwise we are office workers.

There are many ways I can think of to write 1,000 words about how to deal effectively, as a student trying to push back against technologies of unfreedom at school, with aspects of the system (like Canvas, or surveilled e-readings) or more systematically, by adapting your technology so as to give you more leverage There is an X, such that X% of the stuff you don't like can be avoided without having to make costly refusals. There is a Y, such that Y amount of knowledge would be gained in the course of learning how to subdue X% of your privacy problems that would leave you substantially more learned and effective overall, and more capable of shaping your life in practice and the world so as to add Z to the X% as you go.

Day in the Life If I Told Everyone “F*** you”

-- By BrandonRosenberg - 13 Oct 2023

I wake up to my alarm clock, chiming in the classic “beep beep beep” manner. Although it bugs me, my choices of those are restricted to those which have little more functionality than making said sound at the proper time of day. If I knew how to program, I could probably find a way to wake up to a more relaxing sound, but that is outside of my skill set. I head to the lobby of my building and gather the newspaper waiting for me. I read through it as I eat my breakfast and drink my coffee. After I finish, I walk out of my building and see the people on their morning commutes, heading downtown to their offices. Unfortunately, I will not be joining them, as my position as a junior associate was given to a candidate much more responsive and willing to submit to the firm’s work monitoring systems. A pity, I think to myself. I walk north to campus, and watch as the students walk absentmindedly to their morning classes. They swipe into their respective buildings ready to sit through class, likely just to get some online shopping done while a professor talks at them. I had been one of them, until I failed out. However, I didn't fail out because I wasn’t smart enough, or didn’t try hard enough. I failed out because I vehemently refused to use the student monitoring system “Canvas” and had missed necessary assignments to my courses. Some professors, such as Professor Moglen, were willing to work with me on getting my work done outside of the usual processes, but most saw it as too much effort and gave me no options in the matter. As a result, I was unable to get enough credits to finish my degree, after all, Professor Moglen only taught so many classes. So, I turned back around and headed to my apartment. There, I did some reading and wrote about how screwed we were as a society. Unfortunately, my research abilities were significantly slighted by the constant account-making requirements that I saw as a breach into my personal affairs. Making fake accounts could only get me so far. With what I could scrape up, I finished my essay titled “Don’t You See Where We’re Headed” and sent it off to a litany of major newspapers and blog sites. I figured I’d have more luck with the latter. I went to call my girlfriend to let her know that I had finished it, and glumly remembered that she had left me. I thought about the last things she said to me, “You only talk to me on your terms! Why can’t I call or text YOU when I need to talk!” She had not been too pleased with my response, requiring privacy and preferring to chat in person, and walked away. I had heard through a friend she was seeing a new guy, assuredly someone who was much more accessible than myself. My friend was one of my few connections to the social world left. I used to have more, but the majority of them found it too troublesome to communicate with me over encrypted email or similar, low profile means. So, I emailed my family. They still love me, even though they were not at all shy in expressing their disappointment in my life choices. After a quick nap, I made dinner. I ate it and opened my book to pass the time before I got sleepy again. I headed upstairs. As I laid down in bed ready to drift off, I reflected on my day. Was it worth it, I thought? Sure, I was morally honest with myself and stood to my values. But what did it cost me? My job, my degree, my girlfriend, my friends. Sure, I could serve to be the inspiration for a few others to wake up to the surveillance state we could be heading towards. But was I happy? Would there be enough people like me out there to make a difference? I hoped so. If not, I had thrown it all away for nothing. Perhaps I could have gotten away with it. Perhaps people would have had no choice but to submit to my tenuous restrictions, if I had been incredibly good at my job, if I had been an incredibly passionate romantic, if I had been the perfect friend. But, I was just an average Joe, and there are many Joes out there willing to make people’s lives a lot easier, at the cost of their submission to Big Tech. As such there was no need for me. I fell asleep, resting easy knowing I was a man of principle.

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