“And in a shocking turn of events the American government has authorised the ‘Safe Internet Act’, allowing governmental censorship and monitoring of all American Internet sites and applications.”
These were the words that changed the world… changed for the good some say… the beginning of the end said others. Really I’m not sure, this all happened long before I was born, so I’ve never known any different. I’ve lived my entire 17 years with every online comment I have made, every post, every like, monitored, assessed and saved for future reference… or evidence.
I remember stories that my grandfather use to tell me. Of a time when you could put whatever you wanted onto the Internet and no one would care, “It was my opinion, I had the right to express it, regardless if my government agreed with it or not. Freedom of speech! That’s what it was, back then we had the freedom to do what we wanted, say what we wanted, create what we wanted and no one gave a damn.” I miss him a lot.
I like his version of the Internet, a platform where you could talk to people without the fear of later being woken in the night by government officials dragging you out of bed and into their entirely blacked out cars. I think that’s the reason the reason that I’m doing this, to create that freedom again, although it is also for him and his sacrifice.
I get up from my desk in my darkened bedroom. There is just one more thing I need to do before I attempt to change the world.
For a sickening moment I have a flash of doubt. Should I really do this? Will this really make everything better? What would Grandad do? That thought settles my mind somewhat. I know exactly what my Grandfather would say to that, “Not only have they taken away our fundamental rights! They’re starting to force us to think that what they’re doing is for the good! That we should be grateful that they’ve done this to us; utter rubbish. Don’t ever believe that, boy. What they have done to us is immoral; we need the ability to discuss what we think with others, for progress and creativity. We need it to remain human, regardless of the consequences.”
However I still feel that niggling sense of indecision. We are taught about the beginning of the Act from grade 1, have it drilled and drilled into us the necessity that caused its creation. We are told stories, although to us they appear as nightmares, of the corruption and danger that filled the Internet when it began. Of the sadistic predators that would attempt to beguile children into secretive meetings, of the terrorist cells that would use the government’s lenient standards to interact and plan attacks and of the countless innocents whose identity were stolen by dangerous criminals.
Am I really willing to let all of that happen again, for the sake of freedom? Can society really be trusted with that much power? I know Grandad said it was immoral for our right to freely speak our minds to be revoked, but is it moral to let that level venality loose upon the world? Am I about to do more harm than good?
Still undecided I grab my data card from its locked draw, flipping it around in my hand.
I had been so excited when I’d thought of doing this, inspired by my Grandfather’s stories. I was only 14 when I began to devise the virus, by then I had already graduated from high school and was about to enter the most prestigious information technology university in the country. I remember my group of co-conspirators, idealistic adolescents like me, all eager to create our perfect world. We would hold meetings in the middle of the night, all our notes written out on paper to avoid a technology trail. Eventually they all gave up, mostly due to fear of being discovered or a lack of enthusiasm as the years progressed but some struggled with the ethics of our plan. I alone remained, spurred on by my unwavering conviction that what we were doing was not only right, but necessary.
I return to my computer and rub my tired eyes. The card port flashes invitingly, as if it’s willing me to just take that final step; just put in the card and watch as the virus spreads all over the world, terminating the censoring placed by every government over its country and eradicating any ability to monitor or record what a person did on the Internet. We would regain our ability to make our own choices, our own opinions, our own future.
We need it to remain human, regardless of the consequences. My Grandfather’s words ring in my ears, I reach out to the card port, ready to push in the greatest catalyst of all time. As I am about to put in the card, my hand pauses.
What am I about to do?