top of page
  • Writer's pictureManushya Foundation

Rethinking Digital Rights: From "me" to "we": A Call for a Decolonial and Degrowth Digital Rights Movement


This opinion piece is written by Jean Linis-Dinco, PhD as part of the ongoing campaign of the ASEAN Regional Coalition to #StopDigitalDictatorship.


In an era dominated by digital interactions and transformations, the discourse around digital rights has increasingly become steeped in ideologies anchored on the tenets of individualism. We have been told over and over again that they were designed that way to champion personal freedoms. Yet, recent events like this, this, this and this have suggested quite the opposite. If anything, the frameworks we have today are just masking a profit-driven agenda that aims to commercialise every facet of our digital existence and perpetuate colonial legacies of domination and exploitation under the guise of “modernisation” and “progress”. This deeply ingrained individualistic focus in the realm of digital rights not only sidelines our collective needs. They actively participate in the neoliberal assault on communal structures and in the longer term, environmental sustainability. This blog seeks to scrutinise the limitations of our current understanding of digital rights and explore alternative approaches that prioritise collective welfare and environmental sustainability. As our planet faces record high temperatures and escalating environmental crises, it's imperative that we shift our focus from ‘me’ to ‘we’.


How profit has ruined our digital experience

Back in 1995, Nicholas Negroponte predicted that the Internet would “flatten organisations, globalise society, decentralise control, and help harmonise people”. Quite a utopian picture of digital connectivity, starkly different from our reality in 2024. Instead of being a democratising power, what we received is a digital landscape that has exploited user data for profit, with a few dominant players wielding significant influence over how data is used and monetised. Much of the Internet we see today can be compared to emerald mining, a process that often involves the extraction of valuable resources under conditions that are far from equitable. The digital realm thrives on the same logic for data extraction, often without users’ explicit consent or fair compensation. Thus, mirroring the exploitation during the colonial era when resources were taken from local communities for the economic advantage of more powerful entities, which leaves those communities impoverished and their environments depleted.




And as we observe Indigenous Peoples Day this month, it is just fitting to reflect on the parallels between historical colonisation and the digital exploitation unfolding right before our eyes. Today, we see a similar scenario play out where vast amounts of data are harvested from people worldwide. And from these datasets they create a lesser-known, labour-intensive digital sweatshops fueled by the likes of Amazon Mechanical Turks, which uses a Human API to perform tasks such as ‘identifying the red apple in this image of a fruit basket.’ In countries like the Philippines, India, and Kenya, workers are employed under harsh conditions to process and label these enormous data pools, tasks that are essential for training AI systems. Such labour is often tedious and poorly paid, yet they are the backbone of the sophisticated algorithms we see on search engines and other digital platforms. Echoing the sentiment of a popular 90s song, it's profoundly ironic that those who toil to advance cutting-edge technologies often do so in circumstances that starkly oppose the futuristic applications they help create.


This prevailing "me, me, me" agenda in the digital realm further exacerbates the issues highlighted above, where the individualistic ethos not only promotes but necessitates a self-focused view of technology. But, this cultural shift is not just a byproduct of the natural course of tech evolution. Rather, it is more of an active engineering concocted by public policy and commercial interests—as noted by Greenstein in his book “How the Internet Became Commercial”. Corporations created environments that encourage constant connectivity and self-promotion, directly influencing how we conceive of concepts like digital rights, and turning them into matters of personal concern rather than communal responsibility.



Take privacy, as an example. Privacy is not merely a personal choice despite how often it is framed that way. Privacy is a social predicament, which means one person’s decisions regarding their data can have far-reaching consequences for others. Kasper, in her 2007 paper, puts it so perfectly: “Privacy is a socially created need, and without society, there would be no need for privacy”. One person’s choice of an app can jeopardise the privacy of others. When enough people use a non-secure service, it becomes a norm, making it harder for others to choose more secure options without sacrificing social or professional connections.


Privacy is also highly influenced by one’s position in the social hierarchy. The richer you are, the easier it is for you to obtain a higher level of privacy compared to those lower down the social ladder. This very commodification of privacy creates a false dichotomy between those who can afford privacy and those who cannot. A classic tale as old as time. When we treat privacy as a purchasable good, we marginalise those who lack the resources to buy into these protections. And by framing privacy as an individual choice, society implicitly blames those who cannot afford privacy-enhancing tools for their lack of privacy. This perpetuates the false idea that privacy is a matter of personal responsibility and capability, rather than a systemic issue rooted in economic inequality. It reinforces the idea that people attain privacy simply because they choose to. It ignores the financial and social barriers that prevent many from securing their personal data.



Many people are not equipped with the knowledge to make informed decisions about their privacy. Some wouldn’t understand the trade-offs they are making by sharing their personal information in exchange for free services. This gap in knowledge and the individualistic push highlight a significant divergence from the long-term thinking and sustainability prioritised by indigenous traditions, which often consider the impact of actions on future generations.


To rectify this, we can draw on the collective-focused principles of many indigenous cultures such as the Maori’s whanaungatanga, Igorot’s og-ogbo and Minangkabau’s gotong toyong. These groups prioritise collective well-being over individual success, a stark contrast to the self-centred, narcissistic approach we see everyday as we browse Instagram’s Explore tab or Tiktok’s Discover page. For these cultures, decisions about community resources are made collectively. This reflects a deep commitment to the entire community's welfare, which could inform a better approach to digital privacy, and digital rights more generally.




In the face of the current digital rights framework dominated by commodification, consumerism and individualism, there is an urgent need to pivot towards a decolonial and degrowth approach in digital rights. The current paradigms that have long dominated and distorted our approach to digital interaction have failed the global majority. These frameworks perpetuate a colonial legacy and dictate terms and conditions from a viewpoint that aligns with foreign interests at the expense of local and indigenous practices. In various communities across Asia and Africa, for example, data and digital resources are traditionally seen as collective assets, integral to the welfare and advancement of the entire community rather than just the individual. This communal approach to digital resources has become evident in practices such as community-managed cooperative mobile networks in South Africa and Mexico, where the technology is maintained and used by the community to ensure that all members have access. Such models highlight a stark contrast to the individualistic, privatised approach, where data is often siloed and monetised on individual bases, leaving the control largely in the hands of corporate entities.


Towards a Decolonial and Degrowth Digital Rights Movement


Another critical framework that can provide guidance for rethinking digital rights and advocate for a shift away from unsustainable consumption is degrowth. Degrowth challenges the relentless drive for technological advancement and data accumulation. Instead it proposes that we prioritise ecological sustainability and human well-being over corporate profits. At the heart of the degrowth argument is the call to curb unnecessary data collection, which is critical in an era where the over-collection and exploitation of data are rampant.This would mean that data collection is limited strictly to what is necessary for the functionality of services, rather than for surplus value extraction through surveillance capitalism. We need to reorient our relationship with technology to make it align with the principles of human rights and environmental sustainability. As long as these problematic business models persist, we are trapped in a destructive cycle where companies often play the dual roles of arsonists and firefighters. 


The integration of degrowth principles and the valuable insights of Indigenous communities have brought to light the necessity of including the right to disconnect in our discussions about digital rights. For instance, in Indonesia, the Baduy Anak Dalam tribes have made clear choices by requesting the disconnection of Internet services in their area. This decision underscores the fundamental human right to choose whether to engage with digital technologies. It serves as a poignant reminder that the development and deployment of technology should be human-centric, respecting individual and community autonomy in determining their level of digital interaction.



As we move away from individualistic data ownership models to collective data governance, we need to ensure that digital resources are managed in ways that benefit entire communities rather than individual corporations. This could involve community-controlled data trusts that prioritise transparency and equitable access. We need a radical reevaluation of how digital technologies are developed, deployed, and discarded, emphasising moderation, regulation, and the minimisation of digital footprints. Integrating indigenous perspectives into digital rights discourse can provide valuable insights into how digital technologies might be harmonised with cultural practices and communal values, offering a more holistic approach to privacy and data protection.


Digital rights policies must be designed with a dual focus: promoting sustainable digital growth while actively preventing environmental degradation and social inequality. Stricter regulations on the energy consumption of data centres are crucial, as these facilities are significant energy consumers and contributors to carbon emissions. And more than anything, we need to make sure technologies are developed with accessibility at their core. This is to ensure that even economically disadvantaged communities can benefit from digital advancements without exacerbating existing inequalities.


To counteract the monopolistic tendencies of tech giants and state overreach, there is a pressing need to advocate for and support decentralisation. These alternatives to mainstream, corporate-owned technologies will offer a path towards more equitable digital landscapes by empowering smaller businesses and local communities to have ownership and control over their technological tools and data. To truly decolonise the digital rights movement, we must go beyond posturing on words such as ‘South-South' and 'North-South' cooperation, which are often muddled with jargons that make up "mutually agreed terms". These terms are dictated by the imperialist agendas of developed countries and their multinational tech conglomerates force developing countries into a subordinate position that perpetuates their technological and economic subjugation.


As Simon Kapwepwe said, “if we don't handle our independence very well, colonisers will come back in the form of investors.” And indeed, they have. We see this clearly in initiatives that bundle technology transfer with infrastructure projects. These are often sold as mutually beneficial, but if you dig deeper, you will see how such investments shackle recipient countries to specific technologies and standards–stripping them of their technological sovereignty. Initiatives like this, often framed as ‘no strings attached’, push technologies that overlook sustainability and equality. It does not create empowerment, but dependency. This model of tech exportation, which masquerades as development assistance, is a modern form of imperialism. 


By challenging the self-centered and neocolonial foundations of current digital rights frameworks, we pave the way for a radical transformation. Our goal is to establish an anti-capitalist, decolonial model rooted in degrowth principles. We will be fostering a digital environment where technologies serve the collective good, ensure fair access and sustainable practices and one that truly respects both the human and the planet. The challenge for us, activists, lies not just in resisting the commodification of digital spaces but in reimagining these spaces to foster a more just and sustainable world that benefits all, not just the privileged few.


Learn More About the ASEAN Regional Coalition's Work!



留言


bottom of page