Hosting a Ghost blog on Fly.io

Fly.io is a platform as a service (PaaS) provider. I discovered it after the Heroku hack earlier this year precipitated many discussions on Hacker News about suitable alternatives.

Among them, I found Render.com and Fly.io to be most suitable (no affiliate links). Railway.app didn’t make the cut because it doesn’t have persistent storage, which imposed certain limitations on how much Ghost could simplify your blogging workflow, e.g. changing themes. I’m sure there are other PaaS cos but these appeared to be the most popular alternatives.

Between Fly.io and Render.com, the former seemed better because it has more locations and has a generous free tier. This said, you’ll find that hosting on either can be much cheaper and come with more peace of mind than with many other options.

So without further ado, here’s a noob’s guide to hosting your Ghost blog on Fly.io.

Install the Fly.io command line interface

Open the Terminal app on your Mac or its counterpart on Windows/Linux. There…

On MacOS

brew install flyctl

On Windows

iwr https://fly.io/install.ps1 -useb | iex

On Linux

curl -L https://fly.io/install.sh | sh

Create a folder for your blog and then move into it

Within the Terminal itself, type:

mkdir <name-of-your-blog>

cd <name-of-your-blog>

Sign up for a Fly.io account

flyctl auth signup

This will open a tab in your default browser and start the sign-up process. Fly.io will ask for your card details. You won’t be charged unless you exceed the limits of the free plan; it requires your card to prevent people from abusing the resources in its free plan. Once you’re done signing up, check your Terminal (or its counterpart), where it should say something like “you’re signed from <your-email-ID>”. If you see it, good.

Launch a Ghost site

flyctl launch --image=ghost:5-alpine --no-deploy

You’ll be asked to choose a region at which to situate your site. Use up and down arrows on your keyboard select your region of choice and hit enter.

This step will generate a TOML file in the folder you’re in, called fly.toml. The contents of this file will dictate what Fly.io needs to do the next time you deploy your site. Become able to edit the file with this command:

nano fly.toml

Some checks

The first line will say app = "<your-app-name>". The name will be something like fiery-shadow-1234. Make sure the url environment variable is equal to "fiery-shadow-1234.fly.dev". Also make sure that internal_port value, under [[services]], is 2368.

One addition

In a new line after the one that reads port = 443, add the following:

 [[services.ports]]
handlers = ["http"]
port = 80

Once you’re done, you can exit with ctrl + x.

Create a volume that will store your site’s database

Fly.io offers up to 3 GB of storage on its free plan. This proved more than sufficient for my blog, which has 10 years’ worth of posts and images. Going ahead, you could host images on Flickr or Cloudinary (both offer sufficiently ample free plans).

flyctl volumes create data --size 2

(‘2’ here refers to the volume’s size in GB.)

You will be asked to choose a region in which to deploy the volume – choose the same one as for your site.

Mount the volume

Open the fly.toml file and check for a section called [mounts]. If there isn’t one, add it.

 [mounts]
source = "data"
destination = "/var/lib/ghost/content"

Exit with ctrl + x.

You’re ready to fly.

Launch

Type the following command and hit enter:

flyctl deploy

The Terminal will show you the progress of your deployment. You can also view it on your new Fly.io dashboard, under ‘Monitoring’ on the left sidebar. Your site will be ready if you see a line that says “1 desired, 1 placed, 1 healthy, 0 unhealthy”. If you see it, open a tab on your browser and navigate to fiery-shadow-1234.fly.dev to see your Ghost site.

If, however, you run into trouble, check out Fly.io’s troubleshooting guide.

Custom domain

To use a custom domain for your site, navigate to ‘Certificates’ on the left sidebar on your Fly.io dashboard and click ‘Add certificate’. Follow the instructions that appear on screen to, first, verify that you own the domain you’re using and, second, add the A and AAAA records – both with your domain registrar.

Say your domain is example.com. Once Fly.io verifies the records, open the fly.toml file and edit the url thus:

url = "example.com"

Exit and redeploy your site:

flyctl deploy

Importing posts

If you, have a sizeable JSON file of your exported Ghost posts, the CMS may fail repeatedly to import them. To get around this, go to ‘Scale’ on your dashboard sidebar and set the “Size name” to shared-cpu-1x and “Memory” to 1GB. You should be able to import the JSON file now.

Once the import is done, you can reset the “Memory” to 256MB, which the free plan offers. You might incur a small charge for this short-lived change (the billing is per-second). You can check Fly.io’s prices on this page. In any case, you should expect to pay lower than if you were to host with Ghost(Pro) or self-host on Digital Ocean. Ghost(Pro) also offers to manage the setup so you can focus on your site, but that’s also the purpose of PaaS.

To have your (forthcoming) posts backed up, you could set up a Zapier integration that copies the contents of each new post – taken from the RSS feed – into a Doc file in a folder in your Google Drive account. Again, Zapier offers this for free (as long as you’re not the sort of furious blogger who publishes three posts a day every day).

A final note

Peace of mind is important, especially if you’re not familiar with the tools you’re using to set up your site. Launching your blog based on instructions from the internet is one thing; putting out a fire when something goes wrong will be something else entirely.

With PaaS, this worry is lower, but providers like Fly.io, Render.com and Railway.app are still oriented at developers, and so is their support team and documentation. This is to say that even if they help you, they will expect some level of technical chops from you.

If you’re confident that you can manage, go ahead because there are significant advantages. One of them, for me personally, is that with regular backups I have a relatively risk-free environment in which to learn these things, and I believe that this knowledge will serve me well in the longer term.

Root Privileges itself will continue to be a WordPress site hosted in a more ‘conventional’ way because it’s too important for me to be experimenting with at this point. But I’ll be changing my publishing workflow to be Fly + Ghost first, meaning I’ll be publishing posts there first and, more importantly, regularly thinking about how I can improve my experience there.

Sources

I compiled this guide based on instructions on the following pages:

The authors of the latter two guides have put together nearly complete instructions. But each of their guides taken separately didn’t work for me whereas a combination did. If my guide didn’t work for you, you can also check out their guides and where they’ve deviated.

I should also mention that I discovered that a Ghost blog could be hosted on Fly.io after finding that Anil Dash’s blog is.

Thoughts on the WordPress.com ‘Starter’ plan

WordPress.com announced a new ‘Starter’ plan for its users on May 25 after significant backlash from many members of its community of users that a previous price revision had completely disregarded the interests of bloggers – by which I mean those writing to be read and discussed, and not primarily to make money. My own post on the matter blew up on Hacker News and caught the attention of WordPress.com CEO Dave Martin and Automattic CEO Matt Mullenweg.

All of it was warranted: the previous price revision eliminated the ‘Personal’, ‘Premium’, ‘Business’ and ‘E-commerce’ plans in favour a single plan that combined all their features into a $15-a-month bundle that, WordPress.com added, users could only pay for 12 months at a time. WordPress.com’s rationale appeared to be that the ‘Pro’ plan was an almost perfect substitute for the ‘Business’ plan but was $10 cheaper.

But the company management, led by Martin, overlooked a few crucial details in the process: the pricing change was sudden and unannounced, and included an anathematic traffic limit on the free plan (which it removed shortly after); there were no plans between the free and ‘Pro’ plans, forcing even those indifferent towards making money – which was most bloggers including myself – to shell out $180 dollars a year just to add a custom domain; in exchange, these users received a trove of features most of which were useless (e.g. to sell products); and the free plan had its storage decreased by 66%.

I know “free” doesn’t really mean that when coming from the mouth of an internet platform or provider of internet-related services, but WordPress.com had set up exactly this expectation among its users: that they should never have to pay if they’re on the free plan. Look for Matt Mullenweg saying some version of “we want to democratise publishing on the web” (LMGTFY) and you’ll see what I mean. But it needs to acknowledge that what you get for free is less and less usable. I’m not saying don’t shrink the free plan; I’m saying stop pretending that it’s still just as good.

Members of the WordPress.com team should in effect stop claiming that they are rooting to improve access to any kind of publishing because the company’s actions on the pricing issue thus far haven’t been the actions of one with that vision. Instead, it should be more honest and recognise the conflict between increasing access to publishing tools and platforms on the one hand and its need to increase its profits on the other, and take cognisance of its apparent struggle to balance these priorities in its products and communicate the changes to its users.

This brings me back to the new ‘Starter’ plan. It costs $5 a month, also billable only yearly, and has two big changes from its most comparable legacy counterpart, the ‘Personal’ plan: it offers Google Analytics integration and it doesn’t remove ads. The former is confusing because almost none of the people who commented negatively on the WordPress.com post announcing the ‘Pro’ plan and the subsequent forum discussion mentioned wanting access to Google Analytics. The native analytics are pretty good and suffice for bloggers. The latter is more confusing because the ‘Personal’ plan cost $4 a month and removed ads. Why should I pay a dollar more every month and still put up with ads? Unless WordPress.com makes a lot of money through these ads (which I’ve been unable to ascertain with five minutes of googling). The confusion is exacerbated by the fact that most people who wanted a cheaper plan wanted the ability to add a custom domain and to remove ads.

(Interestingly, WordPress.com has many thousands of blogs lying dormant or unused, all of which also carry ads from WordPress’s WordAds network. If WordPress.com deleted these sites, would their hosting costs drop? Of course, doing so will raise questions about the importance of WordPress.com’s commitment to keeping the sites it hosts online forever.)

This said, I’m not very particular on this issue, especially after Dave Martin indicated to WPTavern that they need to make more money on subscriptions: “Finding the right balance between the value that we deliver to our customers and the price that we charge in exchange for that value is something that generally has to be iterated towards. We plan to do just that.” Costs are increasing, I understand.

But I’m still disappointed on three counts:

  1. Importance of monthly pricing – Martin told WPTavern that the company plans to “experiment” with monthly billing, suggesting that it’s no longer on par in terms of importance with the pricing itself. I would have liked to sign up for the ‘Pro’ plan by paying $15 a month to access the ability to add plugins, use premium themes and access the “advanced” SEO and social media tools. This would have been comparable in benefits to managed hosting by Flywheel or LightningBase (no affiliate links), with the bonus that the people who make WordPress also being in charge of my blog’s hosting. But a one-time expense of $180 (or the new India price, Rs 10,800) is not one I can bear, nor, judging by the comments on the ‘Pro’ plan announcement post, most other bloggers who are not in North America or Europe.
  2. India prices – The region-specific price for India for the ‘Starter’ plan is the same as that in NA/EU, and for the ‘Pro’ plan, it hasn’t come down by as much as would be required to make annual payments affordable. I don’t understand how/why the ‘Starter’ plan costs as much in India as it does in NA/EU when the erstwhile ‘Personal’ plan cost 1.5x lower in India – except perhaps if WordPress.com is eyeing big growth in India.
  3. Uncertainty and triumphalism – Martin responded to my post, wrote on the forum and told WPTavern that his team’s communication deserved to be called out. But the ‘Starter’ plan announcement on the WordPress.com blog, which has more than 90 million subscribers, is bereft of any admission of wrong-doing (which Martin spelt out in other fora); together with a triumphalist tone for the announcement itself, issues with the ‘Starter’ plan and no clear roadmap on what comes next (“this was the first of a couple of phases of changes”, Martin told WPTavern), the announcement wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be.

This brings me to the last and also the most grating issue for me: “we are listening”, both Martin and his support-staff colleagues repeatedly said on the forum, but as one comment pointed out, listening is a passive activity. Listening when people are shouting at you out of frustration, disappointment and confusion is the bare minimum and not a virtue. And it’s because I know WordPress.com can do better that I take the trouble to say that it needs to do better.

What we wanted, and want, from WordPress.com was/is a constant and intimate awareness of the (not-insubstantial number of) people who don’t give a damn about using WordPress.com to make money but give a big damn about using it to publish posts for the world to read and talk about. We need to know whether WordPress.com intends to maintain this awareness going ahead, and whether it will listen to its bloggers first – as the least common denominators – the next time a big change is around the corner.

(A similar thing appears to have happened with the proposal of the ‘WordPress performance team’ to make WebP the default image type on hosted sites.)

Nothing cryptic about another ‘crypto’ disaster

Earlier this month, a cryptocurrency token called Luna crashed in price – an event that also brought down the value of bitcoin, became the biggest crash in cryptocurrency history thus far, earned the person or persons who (probably) orchestrated this fall nearly a billion dollars, and stuck a big-ass wrench in the machinations of the cryptocurrency community. Luna’s originated, a South Korean entrepreneur named Kwon Do-hyung, a.k.a. Do Kwon, has been charged with fraud. Stablegains, a cryptocurrency-based “yield generation project”, lost $44 million and may face a lawsuit from its investors for having misguided them about where the company was storing their wealth – in the “stablecoin” to which Luna was pegged. Money-making algorithms of the Venus Protocol, running on the BNB blockchain, lost $11 million due to Luna’s crash. There have been many more, and worse, repercussions.

While this fiasco is neither novel nor likely to be the last of its kind, it merits attention for those interested in (the opposition to) cryptocurrencies – for the sort of disaster that only a nascent piece of financial technology backed by the self-delusion of techbros could wreak. A few semi-helpful explainers on Twitter indicated that crash was a repeat in technique of the one George Soros orchestrated against the Bank of England in 1992, leading to the occasion known as ‘Black Wednesday’. Soros shorted the British pound shortly after the currency had become part of the European Rate Mechanism, which required the government to maintain the value of the pound within a fixed range with respect to the Deutsche mark. But Soros foresaw that thanks to inflation and higher interest rates, the pound would drop under this range against the mark and the Bank of England would be forced to buy back pounds on the open market. He eventually built up a short of $10 billion and made a profit of $1 billion. In this current case, replace the pound with the Luna or the bitcoin, as the case may be.

To put things very simply: Do Kwon, invented two cryptocurrency tokens called Luna and Terra. Terra was an algorithmic stablecoin, meaning a) 1 Terra would always be worth exactly $1 and b) algorithms running on the blockchain on which Terra traded would ensure that 1 Terra could be exchanged for $1’s worth of Luna and vice versa. The 1:1 pegging would be ensured through arbitrage trades. Luna, however, was not a stablecoin and its price could fluctuate. Do Kwon intended for Terra to protect Luna against market volatility. Bloomberg columnist Matt Levine pointed out that Do Kwon wrongly assumed that this financial system – of coins, pegs and algorithms – would remain stable as long as Luna maintained a non-zero value, i.e. that it wouldn’t crash. Or Do Kwon wasn’t wrong and knew that the system had another point of stability: when Luna’s value was zero. (He probably wasn’t wrong: a previous stablecoin experiment that failed to the tune of $54 million was run by two anonymous persons named “Rick” and “Morty”, and ex-Terra employees have alleged that “Rick” was really Do Kwon.)

On April 1, 2022, Luna had a value of $115. But in May, someone realised that while Terra’s value was pegged 1:1 to the US dollar through arbitrages, they could short Luna itself. (Here’s a simple explanation of how shorting works.) One possibility that some have floated (see here and here) is that the attacker bet in favour of Terra and against bitcoin. This arises because Do Kwon had setup a reserve of 39,897.98 bitcoins to back up Terra. First, the attacker bought a large quantity of Terra and then began to dump it, forcing Do Kwon to start selling bitcoin to keep Terra from becoming depegged from the US dollar. Then the attacker shorted bitcoin. Whether this individual(s) took the simpler route or the more involved one with bitcoins, Luna’s price crashed from $80.84 on May 1 to $0.000169 today. As David Rosenthal, from whose blog post on the topic I’ve benefitted immensely, put it, “By May 11th LUNA was under $1 and BTC was under $29K, down around 17% from before the attack, although it recovered to around $30K. By May 13th [Terra] had transitioned to … under $0.20 and LUNA was under $0.0001, having vanished $41B of “market cap”.”

On May 12, Terra ‘halted’ its blockchain; since Terra and Luna are/were tokens on the chain, they became worthless to their owners. But Do Kwon has already said that he plans to launch another blockchain.

Why there’s no guarantee that Musk’s Twitter will resemble Dorsey’s

A lot of folks are saying they’re not going to leave Twitter, in the wake of Elon Musk’s acquisition of the social media platform, because Musk and its once and long-time CEO and cofounder Jack Dorsey aren’t very different: both are billionaires, tech-bros, libertarian and pro-cryptocurrencies. And they say that they did okay under Dorsey, so why wouldn’t we under Musk? I find this argument to only be partly acceptable. The other part is really two parts.

First, Twitter under Dorsey is significantly different because he cofounded the platform and nurtured through a few years of relative quiescence, followed by a middle period and finally to the decidedly popular platform that it is today. (I joined Twitter in the middle period, in 2008, when it was hard to say if the next person you were going meet in real-life was be on Twitter. Today the converse is true.)

Musk, however, is inheriting a more matured platform, and one whose potential he believes hasn’t been “fulfilled”. I’m not sure what that means, and the things Musk has said on Twitter itself haven’t inspired confidence. Both men may be evil billionaires but setting aside the sorts of things Dorsey supports for a moment, you’ve got to admit he doesn’t have nearly the persona, the reputation and the cult-following that Musk does. These differences distinguish these men in significant ways vis-à-vis a social media platform – a beast that’s nothing like EVs, spaceflight or renewables.

(In fact, if Musk were to adopt an engineer’s approach to ‘fixing’ whatever he believes he’s wrong with Twitter, there are many examples of the sort of problematic solutions that could emerge here.)

The second part of the “Musk and Dorsey are pretty much the same” misclaim is that a) Musk is taking the company private and b) Musk has called himself a “free-speech absolutist”. I’m not a free-speech absolutist, in fact most of the people who have championed free speech in my circles are not. Free-speech absolutism is the view that Twitter (in this context) should support everyone’s right to free speech without any limitations on what they’re allowed to say. To those like me who reject the left-right polarisation in society today in favour of the more accurate pro-anti democracy polarisation, Twitter adopting Musk’s stance as policy would effectively recast attempts to curtail abuse and harrassment directed at non-conservative voices as “silencing the right”, and potentially allow their acerbic drivel to spread unchecked on the platform.

Running Twitter famously affected Dorsey. Unless we can be sure that the platform and its users will have the same effect on Musk, and temper his characteristic mercuriality, Twitter will remain a place worth leaving.

To be better at being anti-crypto

Molly White has a difficult read, one that I’m forced to agree with in spite of my vehemently anti-cryptocurrency position. Three representative paragraphs from her post:

I … think that [cryptocurrency-based financial solutions] are enormously attractive to people who see them as a tangible option in a world where these problems are not being solved—where we are being failed by our political establishments in so, so many ways. I don’t think they are a feasible solution, and in fact I think they will worsen many of the problems they ostensibly aim to solve, but they are certainly being sold as the solution, and a solution that people desperately need.

And I really can’t fault someone for deciding to hitch their wagon to crypto and web3 because they are hopeful that those salesmen might be on to something. I can disagree with them, I can explain my point of view, I can think that their engagement is in some small way enabling something I fundamentally disagree with and believe to be harmful—but I can’t believe that buying some crypto, collecting an NFT, or joining a DAO automatically make someone a bad person.

If you feel the urge to “cyberbully” someone in crypto, direct it at the powerful players behind crypto projects that are actively taking advantage of the vulnerable. Or, just as reasonably, direct it at the powerful tech executives, venture capitalists, elected representatives, and lobbyists who have contributed to the untenable situation we find ourselves in. Or the policymakers and governmental agencies who have failed to uphold their duty in regulating crypto and enforcing existing regulation that would protect people from rampant fraud. But not the artist who hoped to earn a few bucks selling their digital art in what is otherwise an extremely difficult field, or the person who hoped that maybe a lucky crypto buy could help them dig out of crushing debt just a tiny bit faster.

This is a sensible position – and one that’s hard to remember in the heat of an argument when the other side defends a choice to invest in or deepen one’s position on cryptocurrencies. But to this picture of two sides I’d add two more (in fact, it may well be a continuous spectrum of positions):

  1. Those who back cryptocurrencies knowing the harm it causes, to the environment as much as social justice, while also not exploring other financial options well enough.
  2. Those who invest in cryptocurrencies in ignorance of its nature, technological sophistry and ontological vacuity, and later claim they “didn’t know” but also don’t/can’t exist because they have sunk costs.

These people are certainly less in the wrong than those who are outright evil – the people deserving of our vitriol, in White’s estimation. And even between these two ‘new’ groups, I think those who are lazy are wronger than those who are ignorant. I was prompted to think of these two gradations to White’s spectrum because they describe some of my friends. In fact, I think I have at least one friend belonging to each of the four groups before us:

  • “Those without another solution available to problem at hand”,
  • “Those who trip into it even though they’re educated well-enough to not”,
  • “Those reaching for cryptocurrencies without sufficiently exploring other options”, and
  • “Those aware of the bad outcomes but doing it anyway to become richer”.

I should of course clarify that these two additional groups exist principally because of privilege. That is, they become visible when you look at White’s first group through the prism of privileges that accrue to different social groups in India, particularly among the upper class, upper caste lot: they have, without exception, passively but automatically foregone ignorance or another similar excuse for their actions. And it’s because of their privileges, and not particularly because its wanton exercise has been directed at cryptocurrencies on this occasion, that they don’t deserve to be spared our scorn.

Re: Musk v. Twitter

I don’t want Elon Musk to acquire Twitter because I don’t like his idea of free speech. Twitter, which adopted a ‘poison pill strategy’, may just be bargaining on the other hand:

True to form, Twitter left its door open by emphasising that its poison pill will not prevent its board from “engaging with parties or accepting an acquisition proposal” at a higher price.

But on Thursday he indicated he was ready to wage a legal battle.

“If the current Twitter board takes actions contrary to shareholder interests, they would be breaching their fiduciary duty,” Musk tweeted. “The liability they would thereby assume would be titanic in scale.”

‘What is Twitter’s ‘poison pill’ and what is it supposed to do?’, Al Jazeera, April 16, 2022

Rosen calls out the weird thread by @Yishan that, to me, failed to acknowledge the responsibility of social media platforms in placing the lies increasingly typical of conservative politics on the same footing as pro-democracy writing, and undermining the value of public dialogue.

What might Twitter be like under Musk? His ‘Pravda’ idea comes to mind:

Elon Musk tweeted this week that he plans to setup an online platform called ‘Pravda’, where people can “rate the core truth of any article and track the credibility score over time of each journalist, editor and publication.” This isn’t a joke. Bloomberg reported on May 24, “The California secretary of state’s website shows a Pravda Corp. was registered in October in Delaware. The filing agent and the address listed – 216 Park Road, Burlingame, California – are identical to the name and location used for at least two other Musk entities: brain-computer interface startup Neuralink Corp. and tunnel-digging company Boring Co.”

Musk wants to call this platform ‘Pravda’. Even as an attempt at irony or black humour, the name cannot transcend the founding conceit of the initiative. The word is Russian for ‘truth’; more notably, Pravda was the name of the official mouthpiece of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. It served the Bolsheviks at the time of the 1917 revolution, and was published continuously until 1991. Until the late 1980s, it published propaganda that furthered the cause of ‘actually existing socialism’ – the official ideology of the erstwhile USSR. While this ‘official organ’ of the Communist Party underwent an ideological transition towards 1990 and the eventual dissolution of the Soviet Union, Pravda‘s editorial positions on either side of this historic line illustrate the vacancy of Musk’s idea as well as choice of name.

Musk is lazy because, instead of trying to build a credibility-rating platform, he could either engage with journalists – especially women, whose credibility is constantly dragged down by faceless trolls assailing them not for their views but for their gender – and the underlying idea of journalism (together with how its purpose continues to be misunderstood). He is lazy because he thinks that by getting the numbers on his side, he can show journalists up for the phonies he thinks they are. Musk is likely to have better success at shaping public opinion if he launched a news publication himself.

‘There Is Neither Truth nor News in Elon Musk’s ‘Pravda’ – Forget Usefulness’, The Wire, May 25, 2018

Also:

While Elon Musk is trying to buy Twitter Inc., he’s no longer the company’s largest shareholder.

Funds held by Vanguard Group recently upped their stake in the social-media platform, making the asset manager Twitter’s largest shareholder and bumping Mr. Musk out of the top spot.

Vanguard disclosed on April 8 that it now owns 82.4 million shares of Twitter, or 10.3% of the company, according to the most recent publicly available filings with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission.

‘Elon Musk Is No Longer Twitter’s Largest Shareholder’, Wall Street Journal, April 14, 2022

Ultimately, this is what we’re hanging on right now:

Still I imagine that Twitter’s bankers at Goldman Sachs will sit down with Musk’s bankers at Morgan Stanley and Goldman will say “so uh where’s the financing coming from” and Morgan Stanley will say “oh the financing is in this can” and hand Goldman a can and Goldman will open the can and a bunch of fake snakes will pop out. “AAAHHH,” Goldman will scream, and then they will chuckle and say “oh Elon, you got us again” and everyone will have a good laugh. Because, again, uniquely among public-company CEOs, Elon Musk has in the past pretended he was going to take a public company private with pretend financing! I am not saying that he’s joking now; I am just saying he’s the only person who has ever made this particular joke in the past.

‘Sure Elon Musk Might Buy Twitter’, Bloomberg, April 15, 2022

Then there’s this guy:

Free-speech as an instrument of repression

One of the more eye-opening discussions on Elon Musk’s attempt to take control of Twitter, and the Twitter board’s attempts to defend the company from the bid, have been playing out on Hacker News (here and, after Twitter’s response, here) – the popular discussion board for topics related to the tech industry. The first discussion has already racked up over 3,000 comments, considered high for topics on the platform – but most of them are emblematic of the difference between the industry’s cynical view of politics and that of those who have much more skin in the game, for whom it’s a problem of regulation, moral boundaries and, inevitably, the survival of democracies. (Here is one notable exception.)

For example, the majority of comments on the first discussion are concerned with profits, Twitter’s management, the stock market and laws pertaining to shareholding. The second one also begins with a comment along similar lines, repeating some points made in the ‘All In Podcast’, together with an additional comment about how “one AI engineer from Tesla could solve Twitter’s bot and spam problem”. The podcast is hosted by Chamath Palihapitiya, Jason Calacanis, David Sacks and David Friedberg, all investors and entrepreneurs of the Silicon Valley variety. A stream of comments rebuts this one, but in terms of it being an engineering problem instead of the kind of place Twitter might be if Musk takes ownership.

There have also been several comments either along the lines of or premised on the fact that “many people don’t use Twitter anyway, so Twitter’s board shouldn’t deprive its shareholders of the generous premium that Musk is offering”. Not many people use Twitter compared to Facebook – but the platform is in sufficient use in India and in other countries for its misuse to threaten journalists, activists and protestors, to undermine public dialogue on important government policies, and to spread propaganda and misinformation of great consequence. Such a mentality – to take the money and run, courtesy of a business mogul worth $260 billion – represents an onion of problems, layer over layer, but most of all that those running a company in one small part of one country can easily forget that social media platforms are sites of public dialogue, that enable new forms of free speech, in a different country.

If Twitter goes down, or goes to Musk, which is worse, those who are nervous enough will switch to Mastodon (I have been running a server for three years now), but if this is an acceptable outcome, platforms like Twitter can only encourage cynicism when they seek to cash in on their identities as supporters of free speech but then buckle with something Muskesque comes calling. Thus far, Twitter hasn’t buckled, which is heartening, but since it is a private company, perhaps it is just a matter of time.

Another point that grates at me is that there seems to be little to no acknowledgment in the Hacker News discussions that there are constitutional limits to free speech in all democracies. (Again, there are nearly 4,000 comments on both discussions combined, so I could have missed some.) As Article 19(2) of the Indian Constitution reads:

(2) Nothing in sub-clause (a) of clause (1) shall affect the operation of any existing law, or prevent the State from making any law, in so far as such law imposes reasonable restrictions on the exercise of the right conferred by the said sub-clause in the interests of 4[the sovereignty and integrity of India], the security of the State, friendly relations with foreign States, public order, decency or morality, or in relation to contempt of court, defamation or incitement to an offence.

Musk has said he wants to take over Twitter because, in a letter he wrote to the company, it “will neither thrive nor serve [its free speech] societal imperative in its current form. Twitter needs to be transformed as a private company.” He also said separately that “having a public platform that is maximally trusted and broadly inclusive is extremely important to the future of civilisation”. Yet his own conviction in the virtues of free-speech absolutism has blinded him from seeing he’s simply bullying Twitter into changing its agenda, or that he is bullying its hundreds of millions of users into accepting his.

He also seems unable to acknowledge that “maximally trusted and broadly inclusive” – by which I’m not-so-sure he means both the far-left and the far-right should be allowed to mouth off, without any curbs – points only to one type of social media platform: one that is owned, run and used by the people (Mastodon is one example). As another point from the ‘All In Podcast’ was quoted on the forum: “The elites have somehow inverted history so they now believe that it is not censorship that is the favored tool of fascists and authoritarians, even though every fascist and despot in history used censorship to maintain power, but instead believe free speech, free discourse, and free thought are the instruments of repression.” It’s hard to tell which ‘free speech’ they mean: the one in both the US and India, where it is limited in ways that are designed to protect the safety of the people and their rights, or the lopsided one in Musk’s mind that free speech must be guaranteed in the absolute.

I have no interest in listening to the podcast – but the latter is entirely plausible: while keeping the rest of us occupied with fact-checking The Party’s lies, lodging police complaints against its violent supporters and protecting the rights of the poor and the marginalised, the ministers can run the country in peace.

NFTs aren’t thriving – they’re often in the hospital

This is not a real anniversary but it’s worth commemorating, if only to remember the pseudo-events propping up the NFT business-culture. One month and one year ago, a cryptocurrency user named Metakovan purchased an NFT associated with a piece of art from its creator, a fellow named Beeple, in an auction at Christie’s. (Here’s a beginner’s guide to NFTs.) Even at the time this incident took place, its absurdity was clear: as I wrote at the time, Metakovan’s plan – an ostensible effort to democratise and to fight racism in art ownership – was riddled with problems: it was one big red herring of excuses supplied to mask the Ponzi super-scheme that cryptocurrencies and NFTs need to survive. Since then, as NFTs have ‘matured’, especially by revealing what they truly are to the world, we have become better at understanding what that moment in time has meant for the industry. Today, cryptocurrencies and NFTs are investment options whose prices climb up (and down) purely through speculation, so they must remain constantly in demand, thus the Ponzi. Other than that, they serve no purpose whatsoever. While the $69.3 million that Metakovan paid for Beeple’s NFT bleached our vision, we realise today that it had to; there’s nothing underneath. Similarly, there is today a near-constant drone of faux optimism emanating from cryptocurrency evangelists founded on nothing more than greed and stupidity – one that we must constantly look past to remind ourselves that NFTs are ailing, as they should be. Here are some useful articles I would recommend on the topic.

“It isn’t just charities that are finding cryptocurrencies less popular than the media would have you believe. Game publishers were salivating at the prospect of selling NFTs purporting to represent in-game items. Their customer’s reactions led to headlines such as ‘Roller derby community resoundingly rejects NFT project’, ‘MeUndies cancels its NFT underwear plans and sells its Bored Ape after community backlash’, ‘S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2 developer quickly cancels NFT plans after fan outcry’, ‘Sega cites fan backlash in surprisingly cautious take on gaming NFTs’, ‘Ubisoft’s first NFT experiment was a dumpster fire’, and so on.”

“For cryptocurrency investors and tech workers, they represent financial opportunities and the ground on which to create an art world all of their own. They are deeply naive about art and often disarmingly sincere in their excitement about it. … Is there any potential in this new art market, which seems poised to edge out the old as it is integrated into art fairs, galleries, and auction houses? Is capital, even in its present decrepit form, more progressive than art theory? … Blockchain may be decentralized, but Sotheby’s and Christie’s, where NFT stars like Beeple have been taking their work direct to market, certainly are not. Art-for-NFT may eschew elite curation from MFAs and PhDs but relies instead on other hierarchies that have more to do with celebrity and straightforward access to money than visual quality, let alone conceptual positioning. It has already proven itself not to be the very thing its digital art proponents hoped it would be: an equitable market (as if such a thing exists) cleared of undesirable barriers. To the contrary, the majority of transactions are concentrated in the top 10% of market actors and the average artist has nearly no shot at making a buck…”

“Kelani Nichole, who first priced and sold artworks in bitcoin in 2013 as the owner of the new-media-centric Transfer Gallery, … reached an unequivocal conclusion about Christie’s proclamation that it had made NFT history. … First, multiple users [of cryptocurrencies expressed] confusion over why, as one member put it, they saw “none of the usual stuff you’d expect to see” for an NFT sale through Etherscan, an established portal for viewing verified data on the Ethereum blockchain. … the second point of disagreement is even more existential. On one hand, Christie’s role in facilitating the sale of Beeple’s work was seen as a powerful validation of NFTs by (very) late adopters in the traditional art world. On the other hand, true believers in blockchain’s revolutionary potential aim to eliminate gatekeepers of all types. They saw Christie’s very presence in the sale as a betrayal of crypto’s core values…”

“Forms of self-dealing among an elite are also baked into the market and the history of how it got so big in the first place. Take Vignesh Sundaresan, a collector known as “MetaKovan” who purchased the $69 million Beeple NFT that touched off one of the earliest hype cycles around the digital assets. MetaKovan is the financier of Metapurse, a Singapore-based investment firm that earlier this year listed its mission as to “democratize access and ownership to artwork.” Metapurse has bought 20 Beeple NFTs, four virtual museums, a soundtrack, and consolidated it all into an “NFT bundle” that offers fractionalized ownership through 10 million B20 tokens. Beeple, as it turns out, happens to be a business partner of MetaKovan and owns 2 percent of all B20 tokens, while MetaKovan owns another 59 percent.”

“… Lemercier’s sale of six crypto artworks of Platonic solids late last year consumed more electricity within ten seconds than the entirety of his studio in the last two years. Worse still, with every resale, their footprint will grow: one estimate indicates the mere act of selling an edition of one hundred NFTs consumes more energy than an individual living in the European Union for a year—and there are already more than six hundred thousand NFTs in existence. Though the hype of NFTs will likely burn off, the noxious fumes produced by these ostensibly ethereal works will linger in the atmosphere for decades, if not centuries, to come.”

“Time’s cover story by Andrew R. Chow, The Man Behind Ethereum Is Worried About Crypto’s Future, is supplemented by his I Spent 80 Minutes Inside Vitalik Buterin’s Brain. Here’s What I Learned. What I learned from these two pieces of hagiography was that Buterin is having a lot of difficulty dealing with the failure of Ethereum to live up to the goals he had for it. … The entire story is shot through with the normal cryptocurrency gaslighting, claiming that the benefits Ethereum will bring to the world are because it is decentralized, even though it isn’t. At the fundamental level it isn’t — last November two mining pools controlled the majority of Ethereum mining. At the API level it isn’t, as Moxie Marlinspike describes in ‘My first impressions of web3’. But the detachment from reality goes much further. … The quote “Crypto itself has a lot of dystopian potential if implemented wrong” reveals two of Buterin’s delusions. First, the idea that the dystopian effects of cryptocurrencies are a future potential, not a current reality. And second, that the dystopian effects are merely a symptom of improper implementation, rather than fundamental attributes. Chow reports Buterin’s ideas for cryptocurrencies implemented right: … These utopian dreams fuel the gaslighting that covers up the real-life casino and “wretched hive of scum and villany” that cryptocurrencies have become. The idea that, at some time in the future, the Ethereum ecosystem is “at risk of being overtaken by greed” is laughable to everyone outside the cult.”

If WordPress supports NFTs, should I boycott it?

I’m a blogger, an amateur coder and an employee at a nonprofit organisation. My experience in these realms of endeavour is such that, taken together, keeping my blog online means a) using a trustworthy web host, b) using a simple as well as moderately featureful content management system, c) achieving this at a reasonable monthly cost, and d) not having to spend any time whatsoever thinking about the setup’s availability or security. Currently WordPress.com is fulfilling (a), (b), (c) and (d).

The next best alternative is a shared host offering WordPress hosting followed by a VPS managed through a control panel and with WordPress. If I drop WordPress, the options available to me dwindle rapidly. There’s Ghost, of course, but not much else. There are very many content management systems out there but the vast majority don’t have an option to import WordPress posts and also have either fewer features or too many for my limited programming chops to handle.

(I should stress here the extent to which I’m out of sorts in this area. I don’t understand all the differences between cloud hosting and VPS hosting. I kinda know what shared hosting is but I don’t know why its problems don’t assail other forms of hosting. It took me years to get the hang of static-site generators and what web-servers really do. I barely get Docker now and have no frigging idea what Kubernetes is or does. My sense of what is good is simply some better-informed people’s sense of good.)

In this scenario, can I afford to boycott all platforms and services that are interested in, or whose leaders are interested in, incorporating NFTs into their products?

The answer I think is a distinct and discomfiting ‘no’. WordPress cofounder Matt Mullenweg is pro-NFTs, as are Ghost’s John O’Nolan, Twitter’s Jack Dorsey, Reddit’s Alexis Ohanian, Salesforce’s Marc Benioff, Twitch’s Justin Kan, as well as Microsoft, GoogleAmazon Web ServicesAkamai (for blockchain in finance) and many, many others. Hosting companies like Amazon Web Services and Digital Ocean ban the use of their services to mine cryptocurrencies, but I doubt they will assume a similarly hardline position against the storage of NFTs.

When you’re interested in boycotting the work of people who favour the use of a technology you distrust and dislike, but then find yourself having boycotted every platform, service and/or product you’ve needed and/or admired thus far, what do you do?

This conundrum is largely already real. Many of our internet-based tools today are the brainchildren of people and companies operating primarily out of that American white Democratic libertarian tech space (although I’m bearing in mind only the worst of this group here, principally Zuckerberg). I really like my smartphone but I have many problems with the practices of the company that made it. The same thing goes for my laptop, Kindle, debit card, WhatsApp account, Fire Stick, a vision-impaired aunt’s voice-activated phone, my neighbour’s electric scooter, etc.

My (first) point is that a certain geographically restricted demographic has monopolised innovation in the information technology sector worldwide. As a result, the best tools we have available to use (in this category) to do the work we’d like to do are often made by people and companies doing other technological things with which we’re often likely to disagree yet from which we can’t ever fully divest ourselves, and whose products we can’t readily replace with those of alternative provenance either.

At the same time the builders of these tools have accrued more decision-making power than the tools’ users, the result of which is that – for one example – we’re all contemplating the possibility of a “web3” erected on blockchain technology even though the population of people interested in that future is eminently minuscule. Another is that WordPress powers 43% of all websites on the web while Mullenweg has the single-most say on whether this mass will one day became NFT-friendly.

The second point is that of quality and scale, which taken together ensure a good user experience at a relatively low (monetary) cost. For example, if the best American cloud-hosting companies today start to offer pro-NFT services, my hosting options will suddenly be limited to Asian competitors with shady business practices and pricier European ones that, while being better with user privacy and such, also charge more as a result. (I’m neither aware of nor know how to evaluate hosting companies in other parts of the world). I get the philosophy of “either pay or be the product”, but here’s the thing: I work in journalism in India and don’t have much money to spare, not to mention neither the time nor the inclination to spend becoming a better technologist.

The third and final point is about the act of boycotting itself. Why has it been meaningful? It has been meaningful because it has had the power to force managers to change their minds in favour of consumers’ demands. Would it be as meaningful as it has been before to boycott WordPress or Twitter or Google? No, because boycotting does not have that power against companies whose breadth of innovation is so diverse that they build the tools with which to organise protests against tree-cutting as well as – to slip into a metaphor here – manufacture the axes with which they will be cut.

At this point, a quote from Elementary (2:21), the TV show on Amazon Prime – another behemoth, wouldn’t you say? – comes to mind: “Piffle. They want an army of drones keeping tabs on all of us.” Since when do you care about other people’s privacy? someone else asks. “I make use of the tools available to me. That doesn’t mean to say I have to applaud every advance in the field.”

I suppose this is my conclusion… for now. I think this will allow me to continue to use WordPress while retaining the moral authority to criticise Mullenweg’s support for, or even his equivocation on, NFTs… for now.

Crypto: Climate change means new tech has less time today to prove itself

I spent this weekend reading about permissioned and permissionless blockchain systems. If you want to get in on it, I can’t recommend this post by David Rosenthal enough. Much of the complexity of executing transactions of the major extant cryptocurrencies, including bitcoin and ether, arises from the need for these systems to ensure they are permissionless from start to finish, i.e. to maintain their integrity and reliability without deferring to a centralised authority entity.

This simple fact is more important than it seems at first because it challenges in a significant way the reality that most bitcoin and ether mining pools are highly concentrated in the hands of a very small number of people. Put another way, everything from the verbal sophistry to the speculative fundraising to the enormous power consumption that sustain the major cryptocurrencies have failed to do the one thing that cryptocurrencies were invented to do: decentralise.

Most other cryptocurrencies likely operate with the same problems; I say ‘major’ only to limit myself to what I’m familiar with. Second, don’t underestimate the value of simple facts in an ecosystem in which jargon and verbiage are core components of defending against criticism. One such bit of verbiage is the oft-repeated claim that “it’s still the early days” – in the face of questions about how much more time cryptocurrencies will need to become stable and, importantly, socially useful. Software engineer Molly White has written about how this is simply not true:

… a lot has changed in the technology world in the past six to twelve years. One only needs to look at Moore’s law to see how this is pretty much built in to the technology world, as once-impossible ideas are rapidly made possible by exponentially more processing power. And yet, we are to believe that as technology soared forward over the past decade, blockchain technologies spent that time tripping over their own feet?

Something I see missing from this already expansive discussion (i.e. I might have missed it) is how climate change alters the picture.

The biggest criticism facing bitcoin and ether is that their power consumption, based on the method they use to protect against fraud in a decentralised way – called ‘proof of work’ – is colossal. Rosenthal defers to the Cambridge Bitcoin Energy Consumption Index, according to which the annualised bitcoin network power consumption (at 6:47 pm on February 13, 2022) was 125.13 TWh – roughly equal to that of the Netherlands.

Others, like Molly White, have written about the fact that 13-14 years after the advent of the web, there was much more adoption and innovation than there has been in the 13-14 years since the birth of the idea of using permissionless blockchains to execute financial transactions. This can be interpreted to imply that the proponents of cryptocurrencies have been expending energy – both literal and otherwise – fighting against the system’s indefatigable tendency to centralise. And by failing, they have kept this energy out of reach of its “more socially valuable uses,” to use Rosenthal’s words.

I think both these arguments – the straightforward carbon footprint and the social disempowerment – are significant and legitimate but often lead people to ignore a third implication specific to technology: the time a technology has available to prove that its adoption is desirable is falling rapidly, perhaps as fast as the atmospheric concentration of carbon dioxide (CO2) is increasing.

The creation and implementation of the web – technically, web1 from the early 1990s and web2 from the mid-2000s – happened at a time when the atmospheric CO2 concentration was 354.45 ppm (1990) and then 379.98 ppm (2005). In 2021, the concentration was 416.45 ppm.

Tech folks may find this arbitrary, but for an observer at infinity (which I consider myself and anyone outside of the cryptocurrency as well as IT/software spaces and located in an economically developing or ‘under-developed’ country to be), it seems eminently reasonable. Climate change has broken the symmetry between our past and our future vis-à-vis our ability to tolerate energy-intensive technologies, and constantly breaks it.

Roughly 16 years lapsed between the advent of web1 and the birth of Twitter, but in the era of manifest climate change, the fuller statement has to be: “Roughly 16 years lapsed between the advent of web1 and the birth of Twitter, as the atmospheric CO2 concetration increased by 27.64 ppm.” Obviously there may be no generally accepted way to compare levels or even types of innovation, so saying “innovating something in the cryptocurrency space comparable to Twitter” doesn’t make sense. Let’s flip it to a marginally more meaningful statement, one that I hope will also illustrate my point better: how much innovation did technologists achieve in the cryptocurrency-space in the time in which atmospheric CO2 concentrations increased by 27.64 ppm?

Note here that web3 – a web based on storing, transporting and validating information using blockchains – seeks to depart from the incumbent web2 by decentralising, and liberating, user experience from the silos of ‘Big Tech’, a group of companies that includes Twitter. So there may be a way to compare the carbon emissions vis-à-vis efforts to achieve web3 versus efforts to achieve web2. Proponents of cryptocurrencies and NFTs may contend in turn that the social consequences of web2 and web3 would be apples and oranges, but I think I’m comfortable ‘cancelling’ that difference with the opportunities for social welfare squandered by wasteful energy consumption.

Second note: the concentration of atmospheric CO2 is distributed like this. But in our calculations, we need to adopt the global average for reasons both obvious (it’s climate change, not weather change) and subtle. Some entities have created (permissionless) “carbon-negative” blockchains; the negativity is attained through carbon offsets, which is a stupid idea. To quote from a previous post:

Trees planted today to offset carbon emitted today will only sequester that carbon at optimum efficiencies many years later – when carbon emissions from the same project, if not the rest of the world, are likely to be higher. Second, organisations promising to offset carbon often do so in a part of the world significantly removed from where the carbon was originally released. Arguments against the ‘Miyawaki method’ suggest that you can only plant plants up to a certain density in a given ecosystem, and that planting them even closer together won’t have better or even a stagnating level of effects – but will in fact denigrate the local ecology. Scaled up to the level of countries, this means … emitting many tonnes of carbon dioxide over North America and Europe and attempting to have all of that sequestered in the rainforests of South America, Central Africa and Southeast Asia won’t work, at least not without imposing limitations on the latter countries’ room to emit carbon for their own growth as well as on how these newly created ‘green areas’ should be used.

To conclude: Global warming is accelerating, so I’m comfortable comparing two events – such as two bits of innovation – only if they occurred in a period of the same atmospheric CO2 concentration (give or take 10%). Perhaps more fundamentally, clock-time is a less useful way today to measure the passage of time than the value of this number, including vis-à-vis the tolerability of innovation.