First they came for my porn…

Beyond Loyola

First they came for my porn...

by

Abelardo M. Torio

and

Bella R. Perez-Rubio

•Published 02 April, 2017 at 11:34 PM from the February 2017 print issue

Twitter

Facebook

0

email

Earlier in the year, some internet users under certain internet service providers (ISPs) opened some of the most popular adult websites only to find them inaccessible. Instead of the pornographic videos they expected, they were instead redirected to a page that carried an ominous message: “This website has been ordered blocked under authority of the Philippine Government pursuant to Republic Act 9775 or the Anti-Child Pornography Law.”

The “ban” was later confirmed by the National Telecommunications Commission (NTC), with NTC Deputy Commissioner Edgardo Cabarrios stating that orders to block 21 pornographic websites were sent to all ISPs back in December. These 21 sites were deemed to have violated RA 9775 by hosting child pornography, prompting the crackdown.

Previous administrations have

engaged

in efforts to block pornography with the same justification, with little success. However, the continuation of these efforts in the context of the political climate under the present administration raises questions on civil liberties and censorship issues.

Responses and righteousness

Child pornography is a real problem in the country. The United Nations Childrens’ Fund has

named

the Philippines as among the “world’s top sources of child pornography,” and the government rightfully takes measures to combat the production, trade, and proliferation of these in the country. However, using this issue as justification for blocking access to legitimate pornographic sites is questionable.

The Constitution allows every citizen the right to express and to listen to others’ expression within the limits of the law. Free expression should be limited only when it has been found in violation of any law, which is a decision to be made by courts. Thus, this sort of unilateral ban on access to porn sites arguably constitutes a restriction on the constitutional right to free expression.

Being international in nature, these sites are heavily policed by agencies such as International Criminal Police Organization (Interpol) or the Federal Bureau of Investigation, who

boast

technological, legal, and investigative anti-child pornography capabilities the scope and effectivity of which is far greater than those of Philippine government. Interpol already

runs

an international access-blocking initiative to combat child pornography. Thus, the continual operation of these pornographic sites in those respective jurisdictions effectively means they do not carry child pornographic content.

It could therefore be concluded that the government response is problematic because banning legitimate pornographic sites that do not carry child pornography does little to curb the spread of child pornography. The problem here is that the government conflates

all

pornography for child pornography. This can be seen in statements by Presidential Communications Secretary Martin Andanar, who

said

“[these] porn sites should really be banned because they are being used by pedophiles and other people who subscribe to child pornography sites.”

Further, the block placed on these sites has not been consistent.

Cosmopolitan

gathered various

reports

of people still being able to access the pertinent sites even after the “ban.” This raises the question of whether the Philippine government has the actual technological capability to carry out the ban they have placed on popular porn sites comprehensively.

Finally, perhaps the most troubling aspect of the so-called ban is the lack of discriminatory judgment on the part of the government. The government responded to a particular and complex problem—the proliferation of child pornography on the internet—with a simplistic and overly broad policy, a wholesale clampdown on

all

pornography.

The ambiguity of the response, along with the other issues mentioned above, invites the possibility of more sites, possibly even those that are not pornographic in nature, being blocked. This also sets a precedent for using blanket censorship as recourse for other policy issues in the future.

Censorship apparatus

Our government, like all others, maintains mechanisms to regulate media and other forms of expression. While freedom of speech is codified in the Constitution, this is interpreted to be operationally limited by legal codes such as the Revised Penal Code, which

provides

penalties for, among other things, going “against decency or good customs” or “[causing] the dishonor, discredit, or contempt of a natural or juridical person.” This necessitates the regulation of avenues of expression. Under this context, debate revolves around what constitutes censorship, and how much regulation is too much. However, government mechanisms of this kind are part of day-to-day functioning and are generally not cause for alarm.

One well-known cog in the government’s “censorship” apparatus is the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board. Although its

mandate

is to “promote a value-based media and entertainment culture,” it has the power to supervise and regulate the content of movies and television and radio programs, along with powers to suspend programming, effectively giving it censorship fiat.

While most of the media landscape are subject to government regulation (and possible censorship), the internet is generally free in the Philippines. Freedom House, an international watchdog promoting free institutions,

gives

the country a favorable score in its 2016 report in the “limits on content” metric, saying “no systematic government censorship of online content has been documented in the Philippines, and internet users enjoyed unrestricted access to both domestic and international sources of information during the coverage period of this report.”

However, this is not for lack of trying. The

2012 Cybercrime Prevention Act

was highly contested, partly because of Section 19, which gave the Department of Justice to restrict and block internet content even without a court order at its discretion. The section was eventually declared as unconstitutional by the Supreme Court.

Testing the waters?

Five years on, the context for government censorship of the internet is much different. The jarring authoritarian turn of the current administration makes the situation much more dire. The point is furthered by the fact that, only several days after the “ban,” President Rodrigo Duterte expressed his willingness to

declare martial law

.

History has witnessed this before. Censorship, coupled with the climate of delegitimization of the media, has been essential in the establishment and maintenance of dictatorships before. When Ferdinand Marcos declared martial law in 1972, one of the first acts that heralded his total authoritarian control was the order to close down private media facilities, as well as the “

take over and control

or cause the taking over and control of all such newspapers, magazines, radio and television facilities and all other media communications, wherever they are.”

All of this is exacerbated by the new terrain of political conflict. Much of the political discourse and debate today, whether at the level of private citizens or public officials speaking in their line of duty, happens over the internet. The internet is a fertile new political battlefield and control over the information flow over it would be a valuable political tool for a government seeking to suppress dissent.

All these ideas are still within the realm of conjecture, and would remain so for a while, as the process of building up authoritarian control will take time. However, it is never too early to take measures that would combat creeping censorship and preserve civil liberties. The greatest defense against the baby steps towards authoritarianism would be to express dissent, outrage, and disagreement at every turn.