Here They Come...

By "they," I mean the usual Canadian bureaucrats that lie awake at night worrying about a citizenry that might think and speak for itself.

From the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission website:

The Commission hereby initiates a public proceeding to consider the issues addressed in this notice pertaining to Canadian broadcasting in new media.

As part of the public proceeding, the Commission will hold an oral public hearing commencing on 17 February 2009 at 9:00 a.m. at the Conference Centre, Phase IV, 140 Promenade du Portage, Gatineau, Quebec.

The first time I sent an email was a pretty seminal moment in my life. I remember thinking, "There goes the post office." I thought it was incredible that someone on the other side of the globe (my first email was sent to a person in Israel) was going to read what I had written only a few seconds before.

Then "websites" came around. Cool. Now I could get my news without laying down a dollar or leaving my house. Then "blogs" showed up. The word "blog" sounded lame and stupid until I started reading them and, eventually, writing one of my own.

YouTube showed up, and suddenly we could see friends that we hadn't laid eyes on in years. This was especially handy for me because most of my friends were scattered all over the Earth. It was great hearing their voices again, seeing their laugh, taking a look at the living room over their shoulder, seeing them chug a beer at an all-nighter. They were people again, not just words on a screen.

I always knew the day would come when the government would get involved in all of this. I think the internet caught them by surprise. Like me, they saw the advent of email as something convenient and harmless. 9/11 hadn't happened yet, so email was more or less a pen pal deal amongst friends.

Then came blogs, and people did something weird: they started to talk to strangers. They gave themselves funny names, put up funny pictures, and began to talk about anything and everything. No longer was the internet about inviting friends to a party or bugging your employee while he was on vacation. Now people were booting up and saying "this government sucks," or "let's write a petition," or "they should change that law, it's crazy."

Newspapers reporters hated it. Who were these amateurs butting in on their business?

Trouble was, blogs started to become real news sources. It was The Drudge Report that broke the Lewinsky story, and Drudge has never looked back. According to one media guy, the Drudge Report is on the homepage of most newspaper editors in the country. If Drudge runs a story, you are almost certain to see it on CNN that evening.

Bloggers can thank Drudge for making them something worth reading. Sure, some blogs are lame, and others downright nutty, but there are several that have become the primary source for people to get their news.

Magazines and newspapers finally capitulated by offering their own blog sections on their websites. Some of them suck, but others are pretty good: when Maclean's and Steyn were put through the ringer by the British Columbia Human Rights Tribunal, Andrew Coyne "live blogged" from the BCHRT's room on his Blackberry. Thanks to him and his Maclean's blog, I read the hearing in real time. In fact, the reason the Canadian Human Rights Commission might lose its grip on power is because of bloggers. Big Media didn't pick up the story until way late in the game. It was bloggers that applied the pressure.

When video hit the web world, bureaucrats must have become very nervous. Now people weren't just writing, they were talking. All the time. About anything. To anybody. The public.

Contrary to their election-year propaganda, almost no politician or bureaucrat feels that they work for you. No bureaucrat or government employee sees themselves as a "public servant." They see their job as one of control. When a bureaucrat tells you that you filled in the wrong form, go to the back of the line, pay an extra surcharge, sign here, now get out of my office, NEXT!, they don't feel they're your servant. They believe they're your master. And they're correct, more or less.

The internet changed this. Ten years ago, you had to belong to a special club or blow 4 years in college to get your face on TV. Now anyone can do it, and you don't need a bureaucrat's permission (that's what a broadcasting license means, by the way: permission to speak to people). Even better, you don't have to pay for it. YouTube, Facebook, MySpace, none of them charge any fees and - the important factor - you don't get taxed for doing it.

So here comes the CRTC. Letting the people broadcast their own views and opinions, without being regulated by a government watchdog? It just won't do. It took the CRTC longer than I thought it would, but they've decided to have a look at this crazy thing called "new media." After having a look at it, do you honestly think they'll walk away and do nothing? Not a chance. This is their opportunity to make money, increase their power, and grow their bureaucracy.

The questions they wish to consider during their meeting in February:

I. Defining broadcasting in new media
II. The significance of broadcasting in new media and its impact on the Canadian broadcasting system
III. Are incentives or regulatory measures necessary or desirable for the creation and promotion of Canadian broadcasting content in new media?
IV. Are there issues concerning access to broadcasting content in new media?
V. Other broadcasting or public policy objectives
VI. The appropriateness of the new media exemption orders

Number 5 is the biggee. It's a bureaucrat's catch-all. "Other." Meaning: "Anything."

Freedom of speech is winning a battle against the Canadian Human Rights Commission in Canada. Next up: the CRTC.

These people work for us. They are not our bosses, we are theirs. But only if we can say so.