Professor Farber Gets an Education
By Aaron
Pressman
Issue Date:
Jun 26 2000
The FCCÕs new chief technologist is trying to untangle the
agencyÕs massive legacy of regulation to help the Internet grow. HeÕs got a few
things to learn.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dave Farber, internet
pioneer and University of Pennsylvania computer science professor, came to
Washington in January to be chief technologist at the Federal Communications
Commission. Farber figured he could teach the bureaucrats a few things about
the Net. It turns out he had a few things to learn about politics.
Soon after starting
his job, Farber says, he held a meeting with a senator (he declines to say
which one) who expressed a desire to become an Internet expert, despite a
near-total ignorance of all things Net-related. Must have been an impressive
lesson: A week later, the senator filed a bill covering critical Net policy
issues.
"The question
is, where the hell did this bill come from?" wonders Farber, a balding,
bespectacled, slightly rumpled 65-year-old who looks like the veteran academic
that he is. Sitting in his tiny, windowless office in FCC headquarters, Farber
goes on to answer his own question: "I suspect most of these kind of bills
are carefully designed to placate somebody and yet be taken far enough with
amendments that nobody in their sane mind would pass them."
Farber says he's
actually been impressed with most of the bureaucrats and politicians he's met,
but nonetheless has been amazed at their lack of technical knowledge.
Bringing Farber to the FCC stemmed from a desire
on the commission's part to insert a dose of technological reality into the
maelstrom of legalistic argument that swirls through the agency's headquarters
in southwest Washington. Explains Farber: "These lawyers and economists
create beautiful models, and periodically I stick in a crowbar - my
technological crowbar - and say that's fine but that's not the way it
works."
In a way, Farber has
played that role for a decade as the editor and gatekeeper of the well-known
Interesting People e-mail list. Farber and his highly placed group of 25,000
subscribers exchange news and gossip about recent developments affecting the
Net. In a typical day, IP subscribers might receive a dozen new items on a wide
variety of topics related to technology policy.
As an academic,
Farber has never been shy about stepping on toes. And as a tenured professor on
leave from Penn, Farber has a degree of independence that few FCC employees
enjoy. "There's no reason I have to be nice," he says with a wry
grin. Farber adds that the FCC's permanent employees have seen dozens of
commissioners come and go, and have a tendency to maintain the status quo.
It remains to be seen
whether Farber's efforts to shake up things will result in smarter policy. Dave
Crocker, a Sunnyvale, Calif.-based consultant who, like Farber, was a computer
networking pioneer, isn't sure anyone will listen. "My guess is that the
most he can do is hammer away at the technical truths that Washington often
isn't aware of," says Crocker, who has known Farber since the '70s, when
Farber served as his adviser at the University of Delaware. "That will
only work if people's ears are receptive."
In many ways, Farber
is the perfect chief technologist for the FCC. Before becoming one of Judge
Jackson's favorite witnesses in the Microsoft (MSFT) antitrust trial, Farber
spent 40 years on the cutting edge of computer science and communications
developments working on the early networks that grew into the Internet at Bell
Labs, Rand Corp. and in academia.
"We absolutely
needed somebody who had the Internet perspective and who could articulate how
technology was going to radically change and restructure the industry,"
says Stagg Newman, Farber's FCC predecessor and the man who approached Farber
about taking the post. While asking Farber to solicit nominations from the IP
mailing list, Newman also probed the list's master. "It wasn't too hard to
convince him," he says.
To take the job,
Farber had two requirements: no paperwork and an opportunity to learn about the
FCC's Net philosophy from the inside. On the first point, at least, Farber
seems to be getting what he wanted: Far less paper is piling up on his desk
than on those of his FCC colleagues. Aside from a few family snapshots,
Farber's office is decorated with mementos of his hits in the mainstream media:
There's a copy of a 1996 People magazine profile and a courtroom artist's
sketch of him at the Microsoft trial.
The subject of
Farber's second requirement, the FCC's Net strategy, is more complicated. It
would be an exaggeration to say that the FCC needs a remedial education in Web
technology. The agency has struggled with Internet issues for years, usually
adopting policies to keep the online world growing, but it occasionally runs
into problematic legacy regulations.
The patchwork of
rules built by the agency and Congress over the decades continues to trip up
certain Net businesses. For instance, while long-distance phone service subsidizes
local service, Internet-based telephony services aren't charged the subsidy
because Internet traffic is exempt from access fees that back local-service
subsidies. In the broadband arena, customers of high-speed links over phone
wires must be able to use any ISP - but cable's high-speed pipes appear to fall
into a different regulatory framework, limiting operators' ISP choices.
On the cable
broadband issue, the FCC decided as early as February 1999 to not require cable
operators to share their high-speed lines with other ISPs. FCC Chairman William
Kennard and others argued that competition from other types of broadband
services, like DSL, wireless and satellite offerings, would put enough
competitive pressure on cable to prevent the operators from misusing their
bottleneck position. Eventually, cable operators ATT (dossier) and Time Warner
(dossier) (after falling under AOL's sway) announced that they would allow
competing ISPs onto their lines in a few years.
Technological crowbar
in hand, Farber is wading into the fray. A few years is too long to wait for
cable ISP competition when the world is moving at Internet speed, he warns.
Cable companies and their affiliated ISPs will have already signed up millions
of customers and deployed millions more pieces of equipment incapable of
supporting an open-access system.
"There may be
nobody left," Farber says. "You're saying you'll have an open
community when there's potentially nobody left and you've driven all your
competitors out?"
Farber's view of the
open-access problem is informed by his years at Rand, where legendary futurist
Herman Kahn taught strategists to imagine worst-case scenarios and think the
unthinkable: How could nuclear war be won? Even if cable companies let other
ISPs onto their lines, he notes, they could still use routers and caching
technology to handicap sites run by everyone but their affiliates.
Farber says he'll
hammer away with doomsday scenarios, even as cable companies move forward with
plans for sharing their lines. AT&T plans to begin trials of shared ISP
access in Boulder, Colo., by year's end. The industry continues to argue that
market discipline, not government regulation, will best prevent any provider
from misusing a choke-point position.
Farber's interest in
the issue has stirred hope among pro-regulatory forces that the FCC will do
more than "closely monitor" the situation.
"On the pro's
side, you now have a voice of sophistication and intelligence trying to work
patiently within the system," says Jeffrey Chester, an advocate for shared
access and executive director of the nonprofit Center for Media Education in
Washington. "But I don't know if he understands the role that corruption
plays here."
The FCC has also
refused to regulate Internet telephony, although Farber thinks that policy
could change under future commissioners. The current stance reflects a
"perfectly rational" approach, he says, adding: "Whether it can
be sustained, I don't know."
Washington is
Farber's first big city. While teaching at Penn in Philadelphia, he commuted an
hour each way from Landenberg, Pa., a rural town near the Delaware border. Now,
Farber and his wife enjoy the easy access to restaurants and museums near their
downtown Washington apartment.
"I'm beginning
to understand more and more what people call Potomac Fever," Farber says.
"If you're not careful you can actually think you're having an impact on
the world."
-30-