“On the internet, nobody knows you’re a dog.” Thus reads the caption
of a now-infamous cartoon by Peter Steiner in the New Yorker, capturing
the zeitgeist of the early internet.
This culture of relative anonymity led to the feeling, for many, that
what took place online was somehow separate from reality. Online, you
could use any name you wanted. You may have been a suit-wearing
investment banker, but online, you could dabble in erotic fiction, or
join a community for tattoo enthusiasts.
But slowly, as the social web has become integrated into our daily
lives, we’ve begun to use our given names – rather than, say,
“hotgirl2286” – to identify ourselves but, until recently, we’ve almost
always had a choice.
Google’s rules vary by platform: YouTube allows pseudonyms, while
Google+ encourages – but does not strictly require – users to use their
“real name”. Facebook and LinkedIn,
as well as Quora and a handful of other sites, require that users sign
up with their given name, and in some cases – such as if that name is
flagged by another user as fake – require users to submit identification
to prove their identity.
Facebook’s policy and procedures have sparked particular ire among
certain users. Because the platform makes it easy to report another user
for using a “fake name”, some users have taken advantage of that ease
to maliciously target users they don’t like.
This appeared to be the case last autumn when a number of drag performers were kicked off Facebook en masse. Sister Roma, a performer and activist who was affected by the reporting, told me in an email:
“All of these communities and cultures [that have experienced malicious reporting] have a history of being suppressed. We’ve all had to fight against homophobia, racism, and prejudice and discrimination. To me it is obvious that people are maliciously pinpointing entire groups of people that they feel are undesirable, morally corrupt, or live lives in opposition to their religious beliefs. They’d like to see us disappear, and unfortunately, as Facebook’s current policy stands, it is happening.”
Facebook, for its part, claims that its policy of requiring
“authentic names” makes users more accountable and “helps [the company]
root out accounts created for malicious purposes, like harassment,
fraud, impersonation and hate speech”, a Facebook representative told
me. “We want Facebook to be a place where people can share responsibly,
and we work hard to strike the right balance between enabling expression
while providing a safe and respectful experience.”
Sister Roma disagrees. “Facebook’s real name policy is encouraging
and supporting malicious, targeted, blatant online bullying,” she says.
“Millions of people [using names other than their legal ones] are using
Facebook in a healthy, genuine and authentic way, communicating honestly
and openly with their friends and their community.”
Based on our email exchange, Sister Roma’s views on authenticity
don’t seem to differ that much from Facebook’s, rather, it’s the implementation
of the policy that is a problem for her and others, like Dana Lone
Hill, a Native American blogger who made headlines after her Facebook
profile was deactivated (Facebook questioned her name). Hill and Sister
Roma are not demanding anonymity, rather, they’re pushing back against a
policy that views only legal names as “authentic”.
After years of sticking to its guns, it appears Facebook is ready to
recognize this. In an October post, employee Chris Cox admitted: “The
spirit of our policy is that everyone on Facebook uses the authentic
name they use in real life. For Sister Roma, that’s Sister Roma. For Lil
Miss Hot Mess, that’s Lil Miss Hot Mess.”
Are legal names – usually the names given to us at birth – truly
representative of our authentic selves? Surnames are a fairly modern
phenomenon in many societies, required and in some cases even created by
governments to keep track of citizens. Legal names allow government to
track property ownership, collect taxes, maintain court records, and
perform police work, among other things. With the advent of
international travel, governments around the world standardized their
practice, issuing passports that, in most cases, contain a first name
and a surname.
Identifying an individual using their legal name may be standard
practice, but does it make sense in all circumstances? Law enforcement
or your boss may need your name to identify you, privately, but when you
go to a bar or introduce yourself on the first day of work, you are
generally free to use a name of your choosing.
For companies, finding a solution that allows users to identify
“authentically” when their name doesn’t match what’s on their passport
or birth certificate will take time and fresh thinking. Facebook’s
current solution – that is, allowing users to submit alternative
information rather than legal ID – will help users like Sister Roma, who
is a performer and a public presence, but may not make it easier for
the average user to prove his or her authenticity.
Mark Snyder is director of communications at the Equality Federation
and has thought a lot about this problem while involved in activism to
change Facebook’s policy while working at the Transgender Law Center. He
sees the value of the company’s current policy, but fears that “the
unintended consequences [of the policy] and … variations in enforcement
show that a better methodology should be implemented right away”.
He recommends a system that would focus more on harmful behavior than
identity, de-emphasizing the ability to flag a user for their name and
ensuring that users aren’t merely “going around flagging profile after
profile”. He also supports training so that staff can better understand
the circumstances around when a user prefers to use a name that doesn’t
match their legal identification.
The precise reasons a person might have for using a different name
vary greatly, but are often connected by a common theme: vulnerability.
As scholar Danah Boyd has written, policies requiring “real names” are
“an authoritarian assertion of power over vulnerable people”, people who
have very good reasons for using the names they do: they may be
survivors of violence, or have a public-facing job that attracts
attention to their online profiles.
Or, in the case of many transgender individuals, their legal name may
not match their gender identity. Transgender people already face
disproportionate levels of violence and other risks. “It breaks my heart
to think that young transgender people, especially transgender women of
color, would have to face any additional burdens or barriers to being
able to be their authentic selves,” says Snyder.
One irony of Facebook’s continued insistence on “real names” is that
the social network has often been a leader in user security, recently
providing a way for users of the anonymity network Tor to connect
directly to the site. This means that such users can obscure their
identity from their internet service provider and any surveillance
apparatus … right up until they use their name to log in to Facebook.
This incongruity presents an interesting conundrum. As a society,
we’ve arrived at a crossroads: identity is increasingly a part of our
consciousness, while state surveillance of our communications more
invasive than ever. This presents a challenge for online service
providers looking to create spaces that are free from harassment and
other ills. While “real names” policies are not yet a thing of the past,
the changes Facebook is making to accommodate users whose names don’t
fit convention may indicate a shift toward new ways of exhibiting our
“authentic selves”.
