DANGERS OF VOODOO CYBERSPACE RESEARCH, op-ed
July 18, 1995

By Declan McCullagh (declan@well.com)

        By the look of it, cyberspace has become a cesspool. Recent
issues of TIME and Newsweek featured "cyberporn" articles with lurid
photos of naked men embracing terminals and children lured into
shadowy alleyways by glowing computer screens. Both magazines quoted a
Carnegie Mellon University pornography study published in the latest
Georgetown Law Journal. Its message: Beware! Your kids may be tapping
into cybersmut.
        The study's release was timely. The U.S. Senate had passed a
computer "decency act" -- now in the House of Representatives -- and
was debating an anti-child pornography bill.
        The legislation's supporters rushed to embrace the Carnegie
Mellon study. Senators waved copies of what they called the
"remarkable" TIME article, quoted figures from the research, and
asked the author to testify before the Senate Judiciary Committee.
The Christian Coalition's Ralph Reed championed the report
on Nightline. Anti-pornography groups touted it on Capitol Hill. The
Justice Department expressed an interest in using the study's analysis
to help prosecute online pornographers, and said it plans to call the
researchers to testify as expert witnesses.
        The problem is that the Carnegie Mellon study is biased,
sensationalistic, and just plain wrong. Articles in the Pittsburgh
Post-Gazette, the New York Times, and the Washington Post have
discredited it.
        For contrary to what TIME implied, it's not a study by a team
of learned professors concerned about Internet pornography. Instead,
it's a study written by a single Carnegie Mellon undergraduate, Marty
Rimm, with a long history of involvement in questionable research
projects.
        How did U.S. senators, TIME, the Department of Justice, and a
prestigious law journal get hoodwinked into believing this voodoo
research?
        Carnegie Mellon University itself legitimized the study last
year by claiming it was valid. In October, Rimm emailed Carnegie
Mellon's president, Robert Mehrabian, and said the school's computers
were storing obscene images. Without checking Rimm's claims with
experts or learning how the Internet works, Mehrabian accepted his
student's warning. He yanked all the school's Internet discussion
groups with the word "sex" or "erotica" in their titles.
        When students and Internet legal experts pointed out that many
of the conference areas were devoted to legitimate discussions --
including childhood sexual-abuse recovery -- he partially relented.
        But by then, the word was out. Carnegie Mellon, the most
networked university in the world and one of the Internet's founders,
had decided to censor cyberspace.
        Mehrabian's announcement caused enough stir that the
Georgetown Law Journal decided to publish the report behind all the
controversy. Rimm offered TIME an exclusive, which the magazine ran on
the front page.
        When TIME hit the newstands earlier this month, Carnegie
Mellon took credit for the study. The vice provost and Rimm appeared
on Nightline. University newsletters heralded Rimm's research as the
"Carnegie Mellon study." The public relations office handed out free
copies.
        If TIME hadn't agreed to a secrecy agreement in exchange for a
scoop, and the university hadn't been so interested in promoting it,
they might learned the truth about Rimm's research.
        Sparks flew on the Internet after the article was published.
Lengthy criticisms from online journalists and network experts
appeared on the WELL and the Internet's World Wide Web, calling the
paper unscientific, tabloid research.
        Two Vanderbilt University professors discovered serious
problems with the study -- not just minor scientific quirks, but gross
misrepresentations and bungled data collection techniques. The
director of Digital Equipment Corporation's network laboratory, who
wrote some of Rimm's software, said the paper was not "worthy of
publication." Carnegie Mellon researchers listed as helping with the
study have refuted it. A Northern Illinois University sociology
professor, Jim Thomas, said that "Carnegie Mellon has become the
sponsor of demonstrably unethical research."
        Rimm hid his identity from adult bulletin board operators --
in one instance writing "I hope you count me among your friends" -- to
get their lists of who downloaded what dirty pictures, which he used
in his study. Reports now say he's trying to sell what he learned to
the Department of Justice to help them with criminal prosecutions of
the same adult bulletin board owners.
        If true, this Carnegie Mellon University-funded sting
operation means Rimm and his faculty advisor's research is unethical
at best and scandalous at worst. Northern Illinois' Thomas calls it a
"heinous" and "fundamental violation" of research standards and
federal regulations.
        Once the news was out and the complaints were pouring in,
Carnegie Mellon distanced themselves from their student. On Friday,
the provost announced he was forming a formal Committee of Inquiry to
investigate ethical violations, and on Sunday the New York Times
reported that Rimm and his advisor "spied on the private computer
habits" of thousands of his peers.
        This wasn't the first time that Rimm's research had ignited a
controversy. When he attended a local high school, Rimm conducted a
survey that claimed most students gambled in the city's casinos. In a
media stunt, the 16-year-old wrapped his head in a burnoose and
infiltrated the Playboy Casino in the guise of an Arab sheik. Even
though the gaming industry disputed the results of the survey, Rimm's
actions prompted the New Jersey state legislature to raise the
gambling age to 21.
        Now Rimm's latest claims are being wielded in a congressional
debate over online pornography. Nobody denies there's a need for
factual information in the debate over cyberporn. Parents feel
threatened by cyberspace, and are afraid for their children. But
policy decisions shouldn't hinge on an undergraduate's voodoo
research.
        Fortunately, not all Internetters are as quick to censor as
Carnegie Mellon. The University of Pittsburgh only restricts the
Internet access of minors, not responsible adults. A Silicon Valley
company has released software preventing children from peeking at
World Wide Web sites known to have sexual content. Other industry
efforts offer voluntary Internet ratings.
        A spokesperson for the Christian Coalition has said "don't
shoot the messenger" for publishing a study on cyber-smut. He may be
right. We shouldn't shoot the messenger for bringing news about
pornography. But when federal legislation is involved, we had better
make sure he's telling the truth.

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