Yesterday
Aaron Swartz, a close friend and collaborator of ours, committed
suicide. This is a tragic end to a brief and extraordinary life.
Aaron did more than almost anyone to make the Internet a thriving
ecosystem for open knowledge, and to keep it that way. His contributions
were numerous, and some of them were indispensable. When we asked him
in late 2010 for help in stopping
COICA, the predecessor to the
SOPA and PIPA Internet blacklist bills, he founded an organization called
Demand Progress, which mobilized over a million online activists and proved to be an invaluable ally in winning that campaign.
Other projects Aaron worked on included the
RSS specifications,
web.py,
tor2web, the
Open Library, and the
Chrome port of HTTPS Everywhere. Aaron helped launch the
Creative Commons. He was a former co-founder at
Reddit, and a member of the team that made the site successful.
His blog was often a delight.
Aaron's eloquent brilliance was mixed with a complicated
introversion. He communicated on his own schedule and needed a lot of
space to himself, which frustrated some of his collaborators. He was
fascinated by the social world around him, but often found it torturous
to deal with.
For a long time, Aaron was more comfortable reading books than
talking to humans (he once told me something like, "even talking to very
smart people is hard, but if I just sit down and read their books, I
get their most considered and insightful thoughts condensed in a
beautiful and efficient form. I can learn from books faster than I can
from talking to the authors."). His passion for the written word, for
open knowledge, and his flair for self-promotion, sometimes produced
spectacular results, even before the events that proved to be his undoing.
In 2011, Aaron used the MIT campus network to download millions of journal articles from the
JSTOR database,
allegedly changing his laptop's IP and MAC addresses when necessary to
get around blocks put in place by JSTOR and MIT and sneaking into a
closet to get a faster connection to the MIT network. For this purported
crime, Aaron was facing criminal charges with penalties up to
thirty-five years in prison, most seriously for "unauthorized access" to
computers under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act.
If we believe the prosecutor's allegations against him, Aaron had
hoped to liberate the millions of scientific and scholarly articles he
had downloaded from JSTOR, releasing them so that anyone could read
them, or analyze them as a single giant dataset, something Aaron had
done before. While his methods were provocative, the goal that Aaron
died fighting for — freeing the publicly-funded scientific literature
from a publishing system that makes it inaccessible to most of those who
paid for it — is one that we should all support.
Moreover, the situation Aaron found himself in highlights the
injustice of U.S. computer crime laws, and particularly their punishment
regimes. Aaron's act was undoubtedly political activism, and taking
such an act in the physical world would, at most, have a meant he faced
light penalties akin to trespassing as part of a political protest.
Because he used a computer, he instead faced long-term incarceration.
This is a disparity that EFF has fought against for years. Yesterday,
it had tragic consequences. Lawrence Lessig
has called for this tragedy to be a basis for reform of computer crime laws, and the overzealous prosecutors who use them. We agree.
Aaron, we will sorely miss your friendship, and your help in building a better world. May you read in peace.
Peter Eckersley @
'EFF'