Cypherpunk is a genre of fiction closely related to CyberPunk. It involves near-future technology themes, but focuses more on cryptography, decentralization, and network theory than on hacking, cracking, and culture jamming (though it often incorporates those elements in less central story lines).

Social Punishment

Social punishment in a cypherpunk society would be much more efficient. The ability to programmatically participate in social movements using publicly available algorithms is potent.

It would have a massive impact on influencers, who depend on social network penetration. If I can describe to my computer who I trust and give it some angles on what I trust them for, I can have it incorporate those filters into my inbound datastream.

There is far too much great information out there to consume it all. We all need to curate. Having an algorithmic curator of our inbound information is a critical quality of life issue.

We have them now. They're called Google, Facebook, ClearChannel, and MSNBC. But you don't get much input on what they should focus on.

So you get what they're pushing. It is push media, to a substantial degree, even if it is curated to your taste profile.

That is not what the Internet was built for.

Why I Work on The Internet

Centralized services are not what the Internet was built for. I know; I was there. As the Internet became available outside of University research, I was one of the early explorers of the Internet. My friends were all cyberpunks, going to the neon dark underground bars, listening to Chemical Brothers, Future Sound of London, and Prodigy, talking to netops and sysops and hackers like myself about what we had found that day and how amazing it would be for society to be decentralized.

We didn't call it "decentralized" back then, of course. Eventually, we got around to calling it 'peer-to-peer' or 'p2p', but before that it was just "what the Internet was". Everybody who used the Internet had their own web site (your "home page"). It was just us nerds, posting links on our home pages to things like Project Gutenberg, writing our own 'zine (periodic home page post, before blogs, adapting magazine-format content to the new medium), and bragging to our friends about it for nerd cred (popularly called "geek cred" at that time in Northeast Ohio).

I put up a flyer in the coffeeshop I worked at, where I made the best machiatos in Cleveland, before Starbucks came along and ruined everyone's ability to recognize a decent cup of coffee. The flyer had a picture of The Silver Surfer that I had modified to look digitized. I advertised myself as a websurfer for hire, when hypertext was a cover topic in every Wired magazine. Surprisingly few people wanted to hire me to do online research, when most people hadn't even heard of online yet, and there wasn't very much there.

But I digress. We were building something better than the old people could possibly understand. A way for everyone to share information for free, instantly. The Library of Alexandria, but with everyone hosting their own significant piece of it, and available to everyone in the world! (or to the few hundred thousand of us who were online, anyway)