Surprisingly, “Palaces for the People” is not some sketchy new political catch phrase, but the name of a book by Eric Klinenberg, who was interviewed about it on the 99% Invisible podcast.

It’s a fascinating look at urban planning and infrastructure, social connectivity, and hopefully both a learning opportunity and wake-up call.

Basically, urban environments are made up of “hard” or physical infrastructure (electrical grid, sewers, transit, etc.), as well as “soft” social infrastructure, how we interact with each other and form communities (or don’t) in these environments.

Where the book gets really interesting is in how the physical world’s infrastructure blends with the digital realm.

The most obvious example of digital social infrastructure is social media, our global virtual spaces for people to perform aspects of their lives and interact with others. Sometimes linked to in-person communities and relationships. Sometimes controlled by institutional entities.

In the “real” world, when disaster strikes and hard infrastructure fails, soft social infrastructure can keep us safe. Neighbours help neighbours; churches, community centres, and libraries become shelters and communications hubs. Does digital social infrastructure measure up … ?

We have widely disseminated Amber Alerts and post-catastrophe check-ins, but it’s hard to argue that digital social infrastructure equals our in-person efforts at keeping people safe or taking care of them when things go wrong on a large scale. (Especially given it can become inaccessible to many.)

It would be nice to think that digital social infrastructure itself is safe (and required to be) for those who use it. But we know that’s often not true. Social platforms that manipulate us, enable abuse, and are repeatedly exploited also experience massive growth. Really, it comes down to whom digital social infrastructure is meant to serve.

As noted in the book:

“It’s not surprising that Silicon Valley titans are so intent on persuading the public that the things they do to advance their corporate interests are actually meant to make the world more peaceful, just, and humane. The executives who run oil, finance, and automobile companies have said the same kinds of things for decades. But it’s off-putting to see Zuckerberg doing it so brazenly, since he built Facebook on the idea that social media require openness and transparency. At this point, we all know what the game is, and it’s insulting to be told that each new revenue-generating Facebook product—the messaging app for children under age thirteen, for instance—is really on offer because the company wants society to flourish.”


The main goal of the tech giants, primary purveyors of digital social infrastructure, is to keep eyeballs on screens. Do not confuse this with connecting people or building community, however.

A notable issue is that the Internet was not initially designed for … any of this. It was intended for a small set of use cases among a specific set of people. Crafty engineers have done what we needed over time, but the whole is not beautiful, efficient, nor serves many functions well.

Imagine what online life could be like had the Internet been designed with digital social infrastructure in mind (privacy, community, culture) rather than being kludged together and then “optimized” for video streaming, ad serving, and five-inch screens?

This becomes increasingly problematic given that more and more, our “third places” are online, rather than physical locations. Coffee shops look more like hip representatives of gentrification than community gathering spaces. Parental fears keep kids from playing outside and roaming freely with instructions to “be home by dark.”

So apps tell us who to date and kids spend their free time online. There’s no serendipity and the youth aren’t getting enough exercise. We’re all getting our social interaction through apps, messaging, and gaming.

And we entrust all of this to infrastructure that is arguably about as safe and robust as the Sankara stones mine in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. What could possibly go wrong?

It’s not all doom and gloom, though. There’s a section early in the book about how groups of seniors around New York engage in lively and ferociously competitive virtual bowling tournaments.

This gaming provides exercise as well as much-needed socialization for a demographic that is often at greatest risk of isolation – physical and social – and its attendant dangers to health, well-being, and physical safety. More groups can participate given the digital component, and logistics are minimized. Also, those seniors’ trash talk is savage.

But digital social infrastructure isn’t quite the same as the libraries where these bowling tournaments take place.

If a city has looming funding cuts, libraries, for example, are likely in trouble unless the local residents fight and make themselves heard about how important this social infrastructure is in their lives. Influencing the outcome, and fueling the fight, is the fact that ultimately, the constituents own that infrastructure.

We pay for physical infrastructure (taxes, donations, etc.) which is administered by those we elect, affecting our notions of entitlement and ownership. Money remains concrete in a way that “user data” isn’t (yet), and we don’t pay for digital social infrastructure the same way. This will change.

We don’t own the digital infrastructure of the big social platforms. The big tech companies are not run by elected officials. They are not only free to act in their own best interests, rather than ours, but public companies are legally obligated to act in shareholders’ best interests.

Governments have yet to make a concerted effort to apply regulation to digital social infrastructure. And let’s face it, most of us aren’t fighting the platforms very hard. (Have you actually quit Facebook yet …?) We’ve become acclimatized to how these companies dictate that digital social infrastructure should work much like the proverbial boiled frog.

Palaces for the People did inspire one interesting idea that could make tech giants pay for damage they cause, whether to social fabric or to the actual physical infrastructure of the cities they settle in. Where, I will note, thanks to tax breaks and such, often they don’t contribute much financially to the infrastructure they take advantage of and further burden.

Basically, treat them like polluters. Not based on emissions, but on social effects. The more harm your platform causes – social isolation, trolls, harassment, doxxing, etc. – the more you pay. Selling user data without obtaining clear permission. Data theft or leaks. Refusing to address hate groups’ activities – pay up. Or, eventually, get shut down.

Sure, legally it would be pretty hard to prove, and huge companies with virtually unlimited resources would fight it tooth and nail. But a girl can dream.

Or we could hope for parallels between today’s tech titans and the robber barons of the Gilded Age and just wait for them to start doling out their money. I mean, Andrew Carnegie was ruthless with competition and labour, but he did fund the building of thousands of libraries, including around Waterloo Region.

Facebook apparently sold my user data to umpteen US car dealerships without my expressed permission, so I’m sure the announcement that Zuck will be bankrolling a new dog park in Waterloo Park will be coming any day now ….

M-Theory is an opinion column by Melanie Baker. Opinions expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Communitech. Melle can be reached on Twitter at @melle or by email at me@melle.ca.