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“YOU ARE a 21st-century American hero,” gushed Ed Markey, a Democratic senator from Massachusetts. He was not addressing the founder of one of the country’s largest companies, Facebook, but the woman who found fault with it. Frances Haugen, who had worked at the social-media giant before becoming a whistleblower, testified in front of a Senate subcommittee for over three hours on October 5th, highlighting Facebook’s “moral bankruptcy” and the firm’s downplaying of its harmful impact, including fanning teenage depression and ethnic violence.
The public has long suspected Facebook of two-faced toxicity. What was lacking were the damning internal communiqués to prove it. That changed when Ms Haugen released a trove of corporate documents to regulators and to the Wall Street Journal. Facebook’s own private research, for example, found that its photo-sharing site, Instagram, worsened teens’ suicidal thoughts and eating disorders. Yet it still made a point of sending young users engaging content that stoked their anxiety—while proceeding to develop a version of its site for those under the age of 13. (Facebook has since paused those plans, due to public pressure.)
Senators, who cannot agree on such uncontroversial things as paying for the government’s expenses, united against a common enemy and promised Ms Haugen that they would hold Facebook to account. But the firm has survived scandals before. Congress has repeatedly called in tech bosses for angry questioning and public shaming without taking direct action afterwards. Congressional hearings “have become like ‘Ground Hog Day’ and haven’t really mattered”, says Paul Gallant of Cowen Washington Research Group, which tracks tech policy. In 2018 a different whistleblower outed Facebook for its sketchy collaboration with Cambridge Analytica, a research organisation that allowed users’ data to be collected without their consent and used for political profiling by Donald Trump’s campaign. Facebook’s founder, Mark Zuckerberg, went to Washington, DC to apologise, and in 2019 America’s consumer-protection agency, the Federal Trade Commission, agreed to a $5bn settlement with Facebook. That is the largest fine ever levied against a tech firm. However, no laws were changed to rein in the company’s misbehaviour.
This new whistleblowing incident could be a turning point, says Blair Levin of New Street Research. Social media’s harmful effects on children and teenagers is a concern that transcends partisanship and is easier to understand than sneaky data-gathering, viral misinformation and other social-networking sins.
If Congress does follow through with legislation, it is likely to focus narrowly on protecting children online, as opposed to broader reforms, for which there is still no political consensus. For example, Congress could update and strengthen the Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA), which was passed in 1998 and bars the collection of data from children under the age of 13. Some want to extend protections to teenagers over that age as well. Other legislative proposals take aim at manipulative marketing and design features that make social media so addictive for the young.
However, Ms Haugen’s most significant impact on big tech may be inspiring others to come forward and blow the whistle on their employers’ malfeasance. Whistleblower Aid, a legal support group that has helped Ms Haugen’s case, has fielded more calls since her revelations were made public. “A case like this one opens the floodgates and will trigger hundreds more cases,” predicts Steve Kohn, a lawyer who has represented several high-profile whistleblowers. Just look at the scandals within Swiss banking or pharmaceutical firms to understand the viral spread of whistleblowing, he says. According to Siri Nelson of the National Whistleblower Centre, a legal defence firm, such informers do not just change companies, they “change whole industries”.
There are several factors that make tech ripe for whistleblowing. One is the industry’s culture of flouting rules and a history of non-compliance. Another is a legal framework that makes whistleblowing less threatening and more attractive than it used to be. The Dodd-Frank Act, which was enacted in 2010, gives greater protections to whistleblowers by preventing retaliation from employers and by offering rewards to successful cases of up to 10-30% of the money collected from sanctions against a firm. To date the Securities and Exchange Commission has paid out $1bn to 207 whistleblowers, including more than $500m in its 2021 fiscal year.
If the threat of public shaming encourages corporate accountability, that is a good thing. But it could also make tech firms less inclusive and transparent, predicts Matt Perault, a former Facebook executive who is director of the Centre for Technology Policy at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. People may become less willing to share off-the-wall ideas if they worry about public leaks; companies may become less open with their staff; and executives could start including only a handful of trusted senior staff in meetings that might have otherwise been less restricted.
Executives are going to have to get used to more leaks. Mr Zuckerberg denied any wrongdoing in a blog, writing that at “the heart of these accusations is this idea that we prioritise profit over safety and wellbeing. That’s just not true.” Nick Clegg, Facebook’s vice-president of policy and global affairs, has defended the company and pushed back against Ms Haugen’s allegations in a lengthy memo to the company’s staff. It was barely any time at all before the memo was shared with journalists. Facebook and other big tech firms, which have been criticised for violating people’s privacy online, can no longer count on any privacy either.
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