Abstract
This paper traces linkages between the commoditization of the Web and what we call “app-centric media.” By this we mean a media environment composed of a multitude of discrete-but-connected software applications and their associated protocols, platforms, frameworks, and institutions. The rapid growth of app-centric media, we argue, is directly dependent on the development and commercialization of the (mobile) Internet, as well as on the business models embedded in the development of key native app platforms such as iOS and Android.
The emergence of app-centric media, particularly in relation to mobile media, is having a marked effect on conceptualizations of the Web. The prevailing rhetoric concerning the development of the mobile Internet and app-centric media employs imagery of autonomy, empowerment, and independence for both the users and producers of apps. We argue that the commoditization central to the commercial development of the mobile Internet evidences a fusion of neoliberal rhetoric valorizing worker autonomy, individual empowerment, and entrepreneurial independence, with a mode of production consonant with “cognitive capitalism” (Dyer-Witheford, 2014; Vercellone, 2007).
Our analysis is divided into three sections. The first looks at the early development of the mobile Internet in relation to the accumulation strategies of cognitive capitalism including the structural importance of “value networks” and the “putting-out system”; the second deals with the commercialization models underpinning the two dominant app platforms, Apple’s iOS and Android; the third addresses the development of HTML as a means of production and describes how HTML5 is framed as a prospectively more “open” competitor to the existing platform duopoly. It concludes by briefly examining the development of the Firefox OS mobile platform—and whether this platform resists or incorporates the forms of commoditization associated with app-centric media generally.
Introduction: The emerging mobile Web
This paper traces linkages between the commoditization of the Web and what we call “app-centric media.” By this we mean a media environment composed of a multitude of concrete-but-connected software applications and their associated protocols, platforms, frameworks, and institutions. The emergence of app-centric media, particularly in relation to mobile media, is having a marked effect on conceptualizations of the Web, in stark contrast to those of World Wide Web inventor Tim Berners-Lee. Whereas concepts such as openness, interconnectivity, and accessibility were fundamental characteristics of “Web 1.0,” the “app”—a stand-alone, self-contained software application—is rapidly becoming the organizing logic of the Internet. This logic is visible both in the development of key native app platforms such as iOS and Android and, despite residual notions of Hypertext Mark-Up Language (HTML) as an open format, in the transformation of the Web into a “platform for applications” (see Anthes, 2012, p. 16) increasingly comprised of HTML5 apps.
In an recent article, Jussi Parikka argues that “We should pursue the question ‘if code makes the world, then who makes code, and what sustains such operations?’” (2014, p. 35). This article is an attempt to address that important question. We demonstrate that the commercial development of HTML5 is often framed as the antithesis of the iOS and Android platforms, but the rhetorical framing of HTML5 apps as a more “open” alternative, we argue, is symptomatic of the ongoing struggles by incumbent telecommunications and media companies to dislodge the existing duopoly of app-centric development platforms. Moreover, we argue that the political economic forces shaping this current iteration of the (mobile) Internet, including the commercialization of app-centric media and the subsumption of HTML, reflect unique characteristics of contemporary capitalism.
Thus, as the architecture of the Web becomes increasingly segmented and “siloed,” the consensus understanding of what constitutes an “open” Web is informed by the concurrent development and commercialization of the (mobile) Internet. This process involves new labor arrangements and practices as well as specific business models embedded in the development of both native app platforms including open and multiplatform HTML5 apps. The prevailing rhetoric concerning the development of the mobile Internet and app-centric media poses a direct challenge to the concept of an open Web by employing imagery of autonomy, empowerment, and independence for both the users and producers of apps in a way that naturalizes the centrality of commercial interests.
The commoditization central to the commercial development of the mobile Internet evidences a fusion of neoliberal rhetoric valorizing flexible working arrangements, entrepreneurial independence, and communicative and creative labor. Taken together, the mode of production currently underpinning app-centric media is consonant with a form of “cognitive capitalism.” According to Yann Moulier Boutang (2008, p. 57), the “strategies” of cognitive capitalism “are determined by the quest for a spatial, institutional and organisational positioning likely to increase its capacity for engaging in creative processes and for capturing their benefits.” Central to this accumulation process is a “socio-technical system” that is “based on the cooperative labour of human brains joined together in networks by means of computers” (Boutang, 2008, pp. 51, 57). As Jussi Parikka summarizes, cognitive capitalism “tries to consolidate communication, social cooperation and creativity into a mode of production” by taking into account the network, that is, cooperation between “brainy individuals” (Parikka, 2014, p. 38). 1
Cognitive capitalism—which does not supplant but rather exists alongside other forms of capitalism globally—expresses two interrelated and important characteristics associated with the production of app-centric media. The first is a shift from a “value chain” to a “value network” model of production, distribution, and accumulation; the second is a retrieval of an earlier mode of production associated with mercantile capitalism: the putting-out system (Braudel, 1979). Taken together, these two characteristics are representative of cognitive capitalism’s “formation of a knowledge-based economy framed and subsumed by the laws of capital accumulation” (Vercellone, 2007, p. 14). We argue that the convergence of HTML5 development and app-centric media has been largely structured by these two characteristics of cognitive capitalism.
The current ideology of entrepreneurialism, with its mantra-like usage of terms such as “creativity” and “innovation,” is an expression of this socioeconomic milieu. Indeed, the archetype of the prosumer is now synonymous with the digital entrepreneur. Alvin Toffler (1980) introduced the term “prosumer”—a portmanteau of “producer” and “consumer”—to describe what he sees as the central figure of the current “Third Wave” of society marked by “the arrival of a new form of economic and political democracy, self-determined work, labor autonomy, local production, and autonomous self-production” (Fuchs, 2012, p. 143). 2 In many ways, cognitive capitalism is a theorization that recognizes and responds to phenomena similar to those discussed by Toffler. More recently, Axel Bruns (2008) has argued that that “the distinctions between producers and users of content have faded into relative insignificance” resulting in a “new, hybrid, produser” (p. 2). Further echoing the network elements of cognitive capitalism, Bruns distinguishes his produser from Toffler’s prosumer by arguing that produsage recognizes the shift to a networked, many-to-many form of production, distribution, and communication outside of traditional structures which he sees as a potentially democratizing development. These are the very ideals that have been associated with the rise of app-centric media as well as the growing hegemony of cognitive capitalism within high-tech and creative industries.
In this context, the ideal of “openness” no longer references the free flow of information on the Web, but rather references “access to the market,” with the market positioned as the only path to personal freedom and autonomy (Toffler, 1980). 3 Our analysis is divided into three sections. The first looks at the early development of the mobile Internet in relation to the accumulation strategies of cognitive capitalism including the structural importance of “value networks” and the “putting-out system”; the second deals with the commercialization models underpinning the two dominant app platforms, Apple’s iOS and Android; the third addresses the development of HTML as a means of production, enabling the initial development of the Internet as an open software platform. It then describes how that history is echoed in the development of the app-centric HTML5 standard as a prospectively more “open” competitor to the existing platform duopoly. It concludes by briefly examining the development of the Firefox OS mobile platform—and whether this platform resists or incorporates the forms of commoditization associated with app-centric media and cognitive capitalism generally.
Cognitive capitalism and value networks
The early commercial development of the mobile Internet was shaped primarily by market competition over standards, devices, and services. The search for mobile Internet standards and devices coincided with, and was subsequently fueled by, the dot-com bubble of the 1990s. Market-led euphoria about the commercialization of the Internet positioned ubiquitous connectivity as a commercial boon for corporations, workers, and consumers (Dedrick, Kraemer, & Linden, 2011; Lindmark, Andersson, Johansson, & Bohlin, 2004; Merrill, 1994; Meyers, 1998; Rogers & Brehl, 2008). The mobile Internet was an essential part of the corporate imaginary during this period, and the affection for this highly mythologized entity fuelled both the dot-com bubble and burst (e.g., the enormously costly European 3G auctions; Ure, 2002), as well as the rise and fall of Nortel, Nokia, and Ericsson during this period (Lindmark et al., 2004; Merrill, 1994; Meyers, 1998; Rogers & Brehl, 2008).
Despite the attempts of many prominent tech companies (including Apple), the commercialization of the mobile Internet in the 1990s and early 2000s was impeded by the lack of a clear platform. In North America, this was partly due to a reliance on the market to provide a de facto standard (Manzerolle, 2013). For example, the “wireless application protocol” (WAP) standard developed by the WAP Forum (which later became the Open Handset Alliance) in the 1990s, while an important step, was limited from the outset by available devices, infrastructure, and the “wireless markup language.” While lack of devices and infrastructure reflected the tensions and fragmentation within the North American telecommunications market, the choice of programming language cut off developers from conventional HTML coding, thus presenting clear limitations on the possibilities of translating Web content into mobile-ready content. The WAP was deployed primarily by telecommunications service providers attempting to use mobile Internet connectivity to generate new revenue from services associated with the rollout of 2.5G infrastructure like enhanced data rates for global evolution (EDGE) and general packet radio service (GPRS; Dedrick et al., 2011; Kumar, Parimi, & Agrawal, 2003; Rysavy, 2000; Ure, 2002).
Thus, until the iPhone, the mobile Internet was shaped primarily by telecommunications companies and disproportionately geared towards the needs of corporations and elite users. This focus limited the possibilities for developing a platform that would enable a broader “consumerization” (or more accurately, commoditization) of the mobile Internet within a newly liberalized telecommunications market. Further, the lucrative American market was hobbled by widespread fragmentation wherein different branded “solutions”—and a wide variety of Web-enabled devices—competed to become the “de facto” standard.
The technical sophistication of infrastructure, devices, and service offerings depends on a complex global supply chain (Dedrick et al., 2011), comprising resource extraction, logistics, research and development, production, assembly, and marketing. What distinguishes app-centric media in this respect is the knowledge-based work associated with coding and software development (de Peuter, Brophy, & Cohen, 2014). While the material (hardware) production of infrastructure and devices precedes in a linear value chain towards the end consumer, the production of apps (software) expresses a decentralized “value network” model. Dyer-Witheford (2014) links the development of commercial app-centric platforms to the value networks dominated by the “creators of operating systems and development tools—Apple, Google, Research In Motion, Nokia, and Microsoft” (p. 229). This ensures that the labor on which mobile Internet applications depend is, in the final instance, subsumed by highly capitalized commercial interests. Whereas the model of the value chain expresses the logic of a linear division of labor (e.g., the assembly line), the value network expresses a formal subsumption of knowledge-based (or “immaterial”) labor within the process of circulation (not production); as we discuss later, this has directly impacted the commercial development of HTML5.
Flexible, team- or project-base working arrangements enable a modicum of autonomy in the production process, but this autonomy is checked by relatively limited control over essential tools and distribution networks similar to other “creative” industries (see Dyer-Witheford & de Peuter, 2009; Hesmondhalgh, 2013). As Dyer-Witheford (2014, pp. 228–229) writes: The value network revises an older concept: that of the “value chain,” which described how a dominant capitalist enterprise organizes subordinate aspects of the commoditization process, dispersing each value-adding activity to global locations and organizational forms that optimize labor costs, access to raw materials, or proximity to markets, and then links the chain in a continuous, integrated sequence. The original form of the value chain of headquarters research, design, and marketing in the high-wage areas of the global economy subcontracts manufacturing, assembly, and back-end office functions to newly industrialized territories, where they can be rapidly scaled up or down, while resource extraction or waste disposal are sent to abyssal sacrifice zones.
To understand this shift more clearly with respect to app-centric media and commoditization, following Dyer-Witheford, we argue that the novelty of value networks is underpinned by the retrieval of aspects of a preindustrial mode of accumulation: the putting-out system. As Fernand Braudel (1979) explains, the putting-out system (or Verlagssystem) was a way of organizing production essential to the accumulation strategies of mercantile capitalism. In this system, “a merchant ‘puts out’ work: he provides the artisan with the raw materials and a part wage, the remainder paid on delivery of the finished product” (Braudel, 1979, p. 316). The historical expression of this system, Braudel (1979) notes, provides the “first hard evidence of a merchant capitalism which was intended to dominate though not transform craft production” (p. 321).
Although we do not make the anachronistic claim that this retrieval is total and without important differences, 4 it does help understand the processes of commoditization that specifically underpin app-centric media. Under cognitive capitalism, the tools and raw materials (e.g., application programming interfaces or APIs, snippets of code) provided by merchant capital (e.g., Apple and Google) are meant to harness and articulate the capacities of immaterial labor(ers), for example, coders and app developers, but also the more general category of prosumers. For Dyer-Witheford (2014), the development of the app-economy expresses a subsumption of worker autonomy by increasingly withdrawing “from direct management of the production process, and instead exercises an indirect power, based on ownership of intellectual assets, in the way a landowner might extract revenues from tenants of a piece of land” (p. 241). This system is central to the development of the Google–Apple native app duopoly but, as demonstrated later, has also manifested (albeit in a different formation) in the development of HTML5.
The apps effect: Standardization and commoditization
Under these conditions—that is, a structural emphasis on value networks, and relations of production borrowing from the putting-out system—two distinct app platforms have emerged to facilitate the commoditization of the mobile Internet as well as the creative labor of both users and producers of apps. The emergence of app-centric media therefore involves much more than a simple shift in technologies and software development processes. Instead, it is useful to consider apps as what Jennifer Daryl Slack and J. Macgregor Wise (2007), borrowing from Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, refer to as an assemblage, that is, the combination of “practices, representations, experiences, and affects that constitute technology” (p. 129). With app-centric media, an affective response in the form of a sense of autonomy and (hopefully) validation from the market is tied to the various practices and tools of app development—use of provided APIs, the networked sharing, and development of code. Here, the horizontal networks and real-time cooperation Boutang (2008, p. 69) sees as central to cognitive capitalism, however, constitute the immaterial labor that ultimately provides value to corporate entities.
App centric media can thus be understood as an assemblage expressing the labor practices, accumulation strategies, and commoditization central to cognitive capitalism. With respect to aspects of the putting-out system, the emergence of the mobile Internet as a platform for the development and consumption of apps highlights the importance of standardized APIs 5 and other user-friendly development tools (sometimes for a fee) that ostensibly allow for a greater level of worker autonomy by reducing the amount of sophisticated technical knowledge required for production. For example, the company Seattle Cloud 6 offers paying customers the ability to build and distribute native iPhone/Android apps with virtually no preexisting programming or Web development skills. The relative ease of developing apps can also be evidenced in the large hobbyist subculture that contributes to the existing primary platforms including Android, iOS, Windows, BlackBerry (Cravens, 2012).
Amidst the increasing ease of app production lies a creative labor pool central to the app economy, but also central to the commercial dominance of the existing app duopoly. The developer relations initiatives of both Apple and Google suggest the importance of developer loyalty; such relations are oftentimes loaded with appeals to “ease of use,” “trustworthiness,” “openness,” or “efficiency.” These appeals are important for the branding associated with a coherent “platform” but also provide cues about the types of “user experiences” on which developers should focus. Yet access to tools and distribution networks essential to profitability is tightly controlled. Developers of native apps are compelled to pay for access to important development tools and services. Apple charges a base annual rate of $100.00 USD for developers to both access software development tools and to give access to iTunes as a distribution channel. 7 Those developing for Google’s Android platform have fewer restrictions in terms of distribution, but are highly encouraged to become paying members of its development community, thus securing valuable development tools and access to Google’s app store (and the broader promotional machinery of Google’s online empire).
It is this very fight for the hearts and minds (and creative labor) of developers that dovetails with the rhetoric of empowerment and autonomy mobilized by Alvin Toffler and those that espouse similar views. As previously noted, this “progressive” rhetoric actually conceals the retrieval of a very old system of capitalist social relations known as the putting-out system. Here, corporate capital provides tools for development at home, creating products that are sold back to corporate capital at significant disadvantage, both in the 30% “commission” and in the cost of basic tools, infrastructure, and education.
Despite their duopoly, Apple and Google offer different business models for the development of native apps, both of which are hugely dependent on the loyalty and commitment of their respective developer community. Apple’s strategy revolves primarily around a relative homogeneity among devices and software, the availability of “user-friendly” APIs and developer tools, 8 and most importantly, its central distribution hub, iTunes. Apple’s iPhone was built on the success and familiarity of its iPod portable music devices that provided a wide range of consumers to an introduction to the Apple device and software ecosystem; iTunes provided an accessible and straightforward way of selling iPhone-specific apps as well as other digital content like video and songs.
Apple’s iTunes was already familiar with many users who entrusted Apple with their credit card information allowing for the easy purchase of applications. Through iTunes, Apple created an app ecosystem that allowed software developers a direct channel to monetize their software, thus providing a clear incentive to develop software. On the consumption side, iTunes helped rapidly expand the range of things the iPhone could do—from location-based services to video gaming—thereby increasing the appeal of the device and its ecosystem to consumers.
Apple, however, benefits again in receiving a 30% commission on app sales or advertising generated through its iAd platform. 9 So dependent is Apple on the creative labor of app developers that it offers a free training program to allow instructors to implement development courses in universities and colleges. In exchange, Apple promises developers a total suite of tools to make them money.
Google, on the other hand, emphasizes its “open” platform, diversity of apps available, and relatively cheap handsets of its Android brand that offer people access to apps and the mobile Internet. Google also receives a 30% commission on app sales, though only if it is offered through their Google Play app store. Instead, Google’s Android platform is primarily centered around its monopoly on advertising-related information, services, and networks. 10 Though it does not preclude users from monetizing their apps on the Android platform, Google’s clients gain a distinct advantage by paying for access to Google’s cache of valuable consumer data. The Android platform is structured around a carefully monitored attention economy upon which Google has built its highly profitable advertising business, which generated revenues of $51 billion USD in 2013—a total they eclipsed by over $8 billion USD in 2014. 11 Developers facilitate this process by producing apps that, by and large, are free and subsidized by advertising-based approaches often aided through the collection of metadata generated by the users of the apps (in addition to other modes of revenue generation). 12
Developers, however, are enticed to participate in one of the largest attention economies on the planet with detailed information about users that can pair advertising messages (or commercial opportunities). This is based on a “freemium” model in which apps are primarily free but monetized through advertising or “in-app” purchases. This emphasis, however, creates a tension between the user experience of consumers, and the monetization goal of app developers (and advertisers).
While the platform duopoly of Apple and Google expresses key aspects associated with cognitive capitalism, competition has emerged from other incumbent information and communication technology (ICT) interests hoping to profit from the same creative labor and production techniques. This challenge pits “native” apps (like those of Apple and Google) against Web apps that use HTML-based coding techniques. In contrast to native apps, Web-apps are platform and device neutral. They rely on the Web for distribution (rather than an “app marketplace”), and use HTML-based coding. HTML5, the most recent iteration of the mark-up language, is the basis for the next generation of Web-apps often depicted as one way to break open the current app duopoly while simultaneously unleashing the creative energies of app entrepreneurs by ostensibly offering them a greater level of freedom and autonomy than they would experience working within the Apple–Google duopoly. What this case study evidences, however, is less a radical challenge to the existing duopoly than a subsumption of HTML to the aforementioned dynamics of cognitive capitalism—thanks in part to a shift to app-centric media.
HTML5 and multiplatform apps: Our code and savior
HTML5, described as the “cornerstone” of an open Web (“Standards,” n.d.), is the fruit of the World Wide Web Consortium (W3C), the organization originally involved with the development of the Web and HTML standardization (and the source of much of the democratic rhetoric). As evidence of the increasing shift to app-centric media (particularly in relation to mobile media), much of this rhetoric is centered on the ability to use HTML5 to develop apps that can function with relative uniformity on any device, circumventing perceived issues with the “walled gardens” of native apps. Through the inclusion of code snippets and APIs which are often provided by companies such as Google or Facebook, developers can develop monetizable, cross-platforms apps with relative ease. Thus, “openness” here is framed as the ability to become an “app entrepreneur”—that is, develop, distribute, and profit from apps—a significant revision of the original concept of the “open Web.” As we demonstrate later, however, the use of APIs simultaneously provides corporations that make them available with significant benefits.
Indeed, despite just being recommended as a standard in October 2014, 13 HTLM5 has been ordained by many within the tech industry and in the popular press alike as the future of Web and application development. This is, in part, due to confusion of exactly what HTML5 is, with many using the term to (incorrectly) refer to a whole host of related-but-separate technologies including cascading style sheets 3 (CSS3), geolocation, and scalable vector graphics (SVG) (Mills, 2011). The high expectations that many have for HTML5, however, are predicated upon the belief that it will enable a new generation of multiplatform applications that return the Web to its open roots, empower independent developers, and thus challenge the dominance of closed, proprietary systems—a “mythos” which stems from idealist rhetoric about the Web’s creation and HTML’s historical development.
In contrast to the mobile Web, the development of the original World Wide Web was guided by principles of openness, sharing, and accessibility. The use of HTML ensured that Web pages would display with relative uniformity across multiple platforms, provided a simple and accessible tool to people of all skill levels to build their own products (i.e., webpages), and allowed people to interlink those documents—and ideas—freely. It is this functionality that leads Berners-Lee (2011) to claim that the Web developed “from the grassroots up,” outside the highly capitalized interests of the existing ICT industry.
In 1998, the W3C decided to suspend development of HTML in favor of a new standard called XHTML (Lawson & Sharp, 2011, p. xi). Plans for its adoption were derailed, however, when an XHTML 2.0 specification was introduced that was not backwards compatible with previous versions of HTML/XHTML (Lawson & Sharp, 2011, p. xi). The end of backwards compatibility would have posed a serious challenge to the open Web and required a significant investment to update existing websites. Perhaps due to this concern, a group of programmers from two Web browser development firms, Opera and Mozilla, began work on an alternative to XHTML that built upon HTML in a way that did not affect backwards compatibility. The group, led by then Opera employee Bill Hixson, would call itself the Web Hypertext Application Technology Working Group (WHATWG), and their work became the basis for HTML5. In contrast to the development of earlier version of HTML, however, WHATWG worked privately rather than openly collaborating through the Internet, and operated with a private corporation—Apple—“cheering from the sidelines” (Lawson & Sharp, 2011, p. xi).
Hixson’s involvement would open the door to even more direct corporate involvement when he joined Google, which hired him to work as a full-time HTML5 editor. Shortly thereafter, the W3C’s newly resurrected HTML working group, itself led by industry insiders (IBM’s Sam Ruby, Microsoft’s Chris Wilson and Paul Cotton, and Apple’s Maciej Stachowiak) decided to abandon the development of XHTML and adopt WHATWG’s spec instead, resulting in a “curious process” in which both groups simultaneously developed the HTML5 spec under Hickson’s guidance (Lawson & Sharp, 2011, p. xii). Indeed, despite Lawson and Sharp’s (2011) claim that the development of HTML5 was marked by “extraordinary openness” (Lawson & Sharp, 2011), the process was, and remains, dominated by commercial interests. Apple, for example, has 15 representatives on the HTML Working Group, while Google has 22. 14
Open standards or open for business?
HTML5 can thus be understood as an assemblage that merges commercial interests and a rhetoric of openness. Despite being positioned as the antithesis of the native app system, HTML5 and the apps built from it further propagate cognitive capitalism and the exploitation of immaterial labor(ers). Like native apps, HTML5 apps increasingly function as stand-alone apps developed through APIs. These APIs are the “raw materials” of apps provided by corporate institutions. There is a trade-off in using APIs; they provide a series of preprogrammed options allowing apps to be built quickly and easily, as well as the use of standardized elements allowing apps to interact and operate on a variety of platforms. At the same time, APIs also provide value to those that create them—usually in the form of valuable metadata used to improve profitable features such as targeted advertising. Because of the “indirect” nature of corporate involvement, however, this commoditization is overshadowed by the democratizing rhetoric often used in conjunction with HTML5.
The near-ubiquity of mobile devices is supporting the development of a profitable and lucrative mobile application market with an expected revenue of $74 billion USD in 2017 (Columbus, 2013). Ensuring a healthy slice of that revenue is what led Apple to adopt a more closed model in which it retains control over both the development tools and the distribution network. A similar desire also underpins the motivation behind the corporate involvement in the development of HTML5.
Apple’s interest in HTML5 can be traced to the company’s desire to minimize the impact of another Web technology: Adobe (formerly Macromedia) Flash, a software package that allows for the creation of vector-based animation and interactive menu systems, applications, and games. Flash is also arguably cross-platform; users simply need to download and install a small plug-in to access Flash-based content. The wide availability of Flash applications and games presented a serious challenge to Apple’s App Store model; if users could access Flash-based games and applications on their mobile devices, the need to download (and, more importantly, pay for) apps via the App Store is mitigated. Some suspect the reason Flash is unavailable on Apple devices is specifically to protect the profitability of the App Store (Naone, 2010).
At first glance, HTML5 would prove to be a similar challenge to Apple, one that could not be so easily overcome if HTML5 becomes the international standard for the Web. Put simply, Apple cannot prevent users of its mobile devices from accessing the Web just to protect the App Store. And yet, in a widely distributed 2010 missive that (somewhat ironically) dismissed Flash as a closed system with several technical drawbacks, then Apple CEO Steve Jobs (2010) stated: “New open standards created in the mobile era, such as HTML5, will win on mobile devices (and PCs too).” This reality, however, might also explain Apple’s intense involvement in the development of HTML5. Apple has even made attempts to patent elements of HTML5, arguably to ensure some profitability despite the insistence on “open” standards, an act which has drawn the ire of the W3C (Jackson, 2011). Apple’s involvement in HTML5 is a way to protect profits even as it (HTLM5) threatens the “walled garden” of the App Store; patenting some HTML5 elements would in theory allow Apple to sue developers for even an ostensible quotation of the protected elements—a common problem as developers share code and APIs across decentralized prosumer networks—somewhat similar to the way Monsanto’s genetically modified seed patents allow that company to sue farmers whose crops become accidentally contaminated with Monsanto material (Hauck, 2014).
Apple’s main rival in the mobile app marketplace, Google, is also actively involved in HTML5’s development. The company actively touts how its mobile browser, Chrome for Android, can be used to develop multiplatform HTML5 apps (“Google Chrome for Android,” 2013). This capability is important to Google’s Android devices, particularly because the Android platform suffers from significantly more fragmentation than Apple’s iOS (Bilton, 2013). Multiplatform HTML5-based Android apps ensure Google Play, the company’s equivalent to Apple’s App Store, can offer (and profit from) apps that will work on any Android device, regardless of OS.
Other companies are also turning to HTML5 as a way to profit on the expanding mobile market, while also chipping away at the Apple–Google duopoly. Despite owning Flash, Adobe is positioning HTML5 development as “the best solution for creating and deploying content in the browser across mobile platforms” even as it retools its Flash software for the development of native mobile apps (Winokur, 2011). Similarly, mobile service providers such as AT&T are also throwing their support behind HTML5 by making its API platform available to developers (Pachal, 2012).
The involvement of telecommunications, hardware, and Internet services providers in the development of HTML5 replicates the competition between these sectors in the early development of the mobile Web. Similar to the putting-out system seen in native application development, these corporations provide the “raw materials” for HTML5 application development in the form of APIs and code snippets. Google, for example, allows developers to freely incorporate Google Maps into their HTML5 applications, just as Facebook allows the incorporation of its ubiquitous “Like” button on sites external to the social network. In these cases, however, corporations benefit from the collection of metadata generated as users interact with these objects (Bodle, 2011). However, unlike native apps, there is no centralized merchant responsible for distribution. Instead, highlighting the centrality of value networks in mobile app development, the app worker takes on the task of distributing apps, and the value-generating APIs they incorporate, online. In this iteration of cognitive capitalism, the immaterial labor of the app worker is not simply subsumed by commercial interests but rather supports them and widens their market penetration.
The system is exacerbated by the complexity of HTML5. The initial working draft of the HTML specification was a mere 40 pages in length (Berners-Lee & Connolly, 1993); in contrast, the HTML5 specification is a “900-page gorilla” (Jordan, Lawson, & Sharp, 2010) and growing, even excluding complimentary elements such as CSS3. During a presentation to Apps World North America 2013, Gray Norton, a developer of the JavaScript-based HTML5 application development framework Enyo, observed: [T]he short answer is, it’s hard. If you’re an independent app developer and you’re starting from a blank sheet—HTML, JavaScript, CSS—to create something that rivals the look and feel and performance of native is an extremely tall order. (Schaaf & Norton, 2014)
Because HTML5 development is such a daunting task, Norton and his colleague Kevin Schaaf advocate relying on ready-made “frameworks and libraries” of code so that the actual code is “abstracted away” (Schaaf & Norton, 2014). In other words, the simplicity and accessibility of the Web as conceived by Berners-Lee is no longer a reality, even though Schaaf claimed that Web still has “this beautiful promise. It’s open standards. Everyone is invested in it” (Schaaf & Norton, 2014). A contradiction is at work here. Despite rhetoric of openness, autonomy, and shared investment, the fact that code is increasingly “abstracted away”—that is, hidden behind prepackaged libraries of user-friendly APIs and widgets—means code is less open and developers are less autonomous. Taken in sum, these examples point to the way the development and standardization of HTML5 is being influenced, if not outright dominated, by commercial interests—the dynamics of cognitive capitalism in action.
Implications for an open Web
The perpetuation of the dynamics of cognitive capitalism seen in the development of HTML5 points to the increasing commercialization of the Web, not just at the level of the application, but a layer deeper—at the level of application development. In other words, before an app is even created, its “genetic” material has been influenced by corporate interests. Recent debates over the inclusion of digital rights management (DRM) protocols as a part of HTML5 explicitly highlight this fact. DRM is a technological enforcement of copyright protection that prevents certain uses of content or technologies (“DRM,” 2013). The emergence of DRM technologies can be directly tied to the protection of corporate media interests and profits, particularly the music, film, and television industry in the United States. For example, some of the most visible forms of DRM are region encoded DVDs or protocols that prevent users from copying a DVD or Blu-ray movie to a mobile device. The Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) claims that the use of DRM tools has increased since the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998 (DMCA) became U.S. law.
Attempts to include DRM protocols as a base element of HTML5 would essentially enforce these (arguably U.S.-centric) protections on a global scale. With DRM integrated into HTML5, corporations can provide multimedia content online—and allow users share it across their networks—but ensure that content is used in specific (i.e., profitable) ways. In essence, DRM enables a putting-out system for multimedia content that protects the interests of media companies.
Proponents of DRM in HTML5 see its inclusion as a way to protect the open Web since its presence at the code level would limit—if not completely eliminate—the need for proprietary media plug-ins such as Flash Player or Microsoft’s Silverlight (Meyer, 2013). Berners-Lee himself has addressed this idea, stating the inclusion of DRM would “strike a balance between the rights of creators and the rights of consumers” while lowering the “overall proprietary footprint and increase overall interoperability” (Meyer, 2013). Berners-Lee is arguing that the inclusion of DRM is a necessary trade-off to combat what he considers to be a greater evil facing the Internet: the “siloing” of Web activity, a critique that mirrors complaints against Apple’s tightly controlled system. For many, this trade-off is unacceptable, particularly because, as Doctorow (2013) notes, the inclusion of DRM in HTML5 “will have far-reaching effects that are incompatible with the W3C’s most important policies, and with Berners-Lee’s deeply held principles.” In May 2013, the EFF filed a formal objection to the inclusion of DRM protocols in the HTML5 standard, in part because “it could also create serious impediments to interoperability and access for all”; “EFF Makes Formal Objection,” 2013).
Indeed, the inclusion of DRM protocols means third parties—particularly corporate entities—gain a modicum of control over the capabilities of a user’s Web browser (Meyer, 2013). DRM also requires the creation and enforcement of patents or content licenses, a direct violation of the W3C’s stated goal of creating Web standards unfettered by patents (Doctorow, 2013). Finally, the enforcement of DRM would require significant embedded, often automated surveillance to track and analyze user behavior (i.e., monetizable data), and modify it in ways that protect the intellectual property rights of corporations. In short, this “lesser of two evils” approach actually has significant, long-term implications for the open Web and, in line with cognitive capitalism, provides yet another structure through which the creative, immaterial labor of developers and the actions of users can be commoditized. Though HTML5 is heralded for bringing “new capabilities to users” (Anthes, 2012), its use of APIs and the proposed inclusion of DRM protocols suggest HTML5 apps will be just as limiting and closed as their native counterparts on iOS and Android devices. HTML5 may provide new technical capabilities, but only insofar as these capabilities link back to forms of accumulation and commoditization of creative labor characteristic of app-centric media.
Is the Firefox phone the answer?
Escaping the commoditization and constraints upon the creative labor of app workers inherent in cognitive capitalism is a daunting task with no easy solutions, especially when one recognizes the way that commodification forms a central part of the assemblage of app-centric media. Teaching HTML5 principles as a part of basic media literacy is unrealistic considering its complexity. Instead, users—and organizations such as EFF—need to continue to pressure the W3C and corporate institutions such as Google, Apple, and other application developers to preserve principles of openness, transparency, security, and interoperability. Users also need to pressure governments to extend net neutrality to mobile broadband connections, a significant issue even in the US and Canada (Daubs, 2012). Similarly, there needs to be a push for “open” technologies in the mobile market that operate outside the logics of cognitive capitalism.
One recent attempt at such a device debuted in 2013: Mozilla Foundation’s Firefox OS, a low-cost, mobile smartphone operating system. 15 The corporation was recently praised by the EFF (“EFF Statement on Mozilla,” 2014) for the “vital work they’ve done—and must keep doing—for the open Internet.” Firefox OS is the embodiment of these goals in a mobile device and embraces, to an extent, principles of the original W3C mandate to extend democratizing principles to mobile platforms. Use of phones running Firefox OS was originally limited to parts of South America and Europe but, as of December 2014, Firefox OS phones were available in 28 countries thanks to expansion into Central America, Asia, and Australia, with plans to expand into Africa on the horizon (Mozilla, 2014).
Part of the Firefox phone project includes the development of an open source apps store called Firefox Marketplace. Though there are only just over 5,000 apps available, the open source credo of the Firefox Marketplace means the number of apps will likely increase assuming the OS becomes popular. In contrast to the Apple and Google/Android models, which exhibit the centralized “putting-out system” of resource allocation and distribution, the Firefox Marketplace is open source, meaning developers can “fork” or develop their version of the Marketplace code to create their own app store. In addition, the apps sold there are nonproprietary, unlike native Apple and Android apps.
Firefox OS will have to overcome several hurdles, however, some of which are related to DRM. Meyer (2013) argues that, despite its low cost, the Firefox OS phone will be [U]p against cheap Android phones that support DRM, and that means it’s up against a platform that can offer users Netflix, Spotify and so on. Not being able to offer this kind of content will hinder Firefox OS’s growth, and by extension the proliferation of web apps in general.
In other words, by remaining committed to an open platform, Firefox OS will, somewhat ironically, not be able to offer users what they want, a reality that perhaps contributed to Mozilla’s decision to include closed-source DRM in new versions of its Firefox Web browser (Doctorow, 2014). Furthermore, the dedication to open standards means that Firefox Marketplace apps are dependent upon technologies frameworks such as HTML5 and JavaScript which, as outlined before, incorporate, rather than subvert, the logic of capital. Thus, even with so-called “open source” application development, escaping the dynamics of cognitive capitalism is practically impossible.
Conclusion
With this latter point in mind, we return to Parikka’s question introduced at the start of this article: “[I]f code makes the world, then who makes code, and what sustains such operations?” The emergence of what we call app-centric media—a move away from an open Web and toward small, stand-alone applications exacerbated by the rapid uptake of smartphones and mobile broadband use—continues the commercialization of mobile connectivity that has been characteristic of the industry since its inception and furthers the corporate colonization of the Web. More importantly, as we demonstrate here, the dynamics of cognitive capitalism have enabled the commercialization of the building-blocks of the Web—the very coding and mark-up systems used to build the apps through which we access and share information online. The complexity of HTML5, rhetorically positioned as the savior of the open Web, has increased the app-worker’s dependence upon APIs provided by (and beneficial to) dominant corporate interests such as Google and Facebook. Furthermore, app developers play an active role in sustaining this dynamic by sharing, promoting, and naturalizing these APIs through online developer networks, thus demonstrating how political economic interests are shaping the technical coding possibilities of the Web itself.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors wish to thank the anonymous peer reviewers for their insightful recommendations, Dr. Thilo von Pape for his guidance, and Dr. Peter Thompson for his time, suggestions, and support.
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
