[...] Capitalism has always dreamed of activating the desire to consume, the ability to tap the human brain to stimulate its desire for products that it never contemplated needing. Data helps achieve this old dream. It makes us more malleable, easier to addict, prone to nudging. It's the reason that Amazon recommendations for your next purchase so often result in sales, or why Google ads result in clicks.

[...] data is infinitely renewable. It continuously allows the new monopolists to conduct experiments to master the anticipation of trends, to better understand customers, to build superior algorithms. Before he went to Google, as the company's chief economist, Hal Varian cowrote an essential handbook called Information Rules. Varian predicted that data would exaggerate the workings of the market. "Positive feedback makes the strong get stronger and the weak get weaker, leading to extreme outcomes." One of these extreme outcomes is the proliferation of data-driven monopolies.

[...] We're certain that our tech giants achieved their dominance fairly and squarely through the free market, by dint of technical genius. To conjure this image of meritocratic triumph requires overlooking several pungent truths about the nature of these new monopolies. Their dominance is less than pure. They owe their dominance to innovation, but also to tax avoidance. [...] Unlike manufacturing or finance, tech doesn't need to be pinned to a geographic home. Tech companies can transfer their core assets, their intellectual property, to whatever tax haven offers the sweetest deal. They have hatched schemes that their competitors--brick-and-mortar firms, media companies--couldn't dare attempt.

It's a basic, intuitive right, worthy of enshrinement: Citizens, not the corporations that stealthily track them, should own their own data. The law should demand that these companies treat this data with the greatest care, because it doesn't belong to them. Possessing our data is a heavy responsibility that must come with ethical obligations. The American government has a special category for corporations that profit from goods that they don't truly own: We call them trustees. This is how the government treats radio and television broadcasters. [...]

Because circulation was never a profitable business, the Internet hardly required a large leap of imagination. Instead of selling journalism to readers at a loss, media would give it away for nothing. Media executives bet everything on a fantasy: Publishing free articles on the Internet would enable newspapers and magazines to increase their readership manifold; advertising riches would follow the audience growth. [...]

It might have worked, were it not for Google and Facebook. Newspapers and magazines assumed that the Web would be like a giant newsstand--and readers would remain attached to the sterling reputations of their titles, their distinctive sensibility, and brand-name writers. The new megaportals changed all that. They became the entry point for the Internet--and when readers entered, they hardly paid attention to the names attached to the journalism they read.

With their enormous scale, Facebook and Google could undercut media, selling ad space for phenomenally little because they had nearly infinite windows of display. Since they specialized in collecting data on their users, they could guarantee advertisers a precisely micro-targeted audience. [...]

Advertising has become an unwinnable battle. Facebook and Google will always beat media. Between 2006 and 2017, advertiser spending on newspapers dropped by nearly 75 percent, with most of that money redirected to Facebook and Google. Money shifted because the tech monopolists simply do a much better job of steadily holding the attention of audiences.

[...] let's stop rationalizing the inane economics of magazines and newspapers. It's silly to assert that information wants to be free. That was a piece of nineties pablum that has survived far too long. Consumers have no inherent problem paying for words, so long as publishers place a price tag on them.

The fact that Internet surveillance isn't totalitarian, however, doesn't mean that it does us no harm. We're watched so that we can be manipulated. Some of this manipulation is welcome. We might revel in algorithmic recommendation of music, we're pleased to be shown an advertisement for sneakers, we need computer help sifting through the mass of information. but there's another way to describe the convenience of the machine: It is the surrender of free will--algorithms make choices for us. This isn't so terrible, because our submission to manipulation is largely willing. Yet we rightly have a sense that we're surrendering far more than we intend and that we're being manipulated far more than we know.