Through their definition of who gets to be a journalist, they’re not. They are making sure that the outlets that crave the most access – the major networks, public radio, major newspapers – are the only ones covered; everyone else can suck eggs – especially Wikileaks, or organizations like it.

Stone is fine with this, as the above-quoted section of his article indicates. He’s okay with “compromise.” I’m not.

That’s why, he says, Congress should pass the Free Flow of Information Act, warts and all. As is. Right now.

Wait. What?

From Stone’s article (4/15/14):

[T]he law is full of hard choices, and what matters here is not that every tomdickandharry self-professed “journalist” gets to assert the privilege, but that sources can reasonably find journalists who can invoke the privilege when they want anonymity. It is no doubt true that, no matter how one draws the line, some folks will be unhappy. But as long as the statutory definition of “journalist” is reasonable, and is not couched in such a way to exclude journalists because of their particular ideological slant, this is not a serious obstacle. Indeed, if 49 states have managed to make this work, so can the federal government.

Sorry, no. The constitutionalist devil on my left shoulder can’t abide the first amendment-eviscerating clauses added by Dianne Feinstein in the current version of the act; the anarchist on my right shoulder obviously wants to see the act lit on fire, with all digital copies wiped as a precaution. As I wrote in my April 1 op-ed, more than just bloggers would be adversely affected by the shield law’s exclusions:

But what if the reporter in question doesn’t work for a newspaper, television station, radio station or wire service? What if they got a job at Wikileaks?

“The term ‘covered journalist’ does not include any person or entity whose principal function, as demonstrated by the totality of such person or entity’s work, is to publish primary source documents that have been disclosed to such person or entity without authorization.”

So that means that independent investigative journalists who run their own sites and leak sites like Wikileaks and Cryptome aren’t covered. See also: Targets of state-level “Ag-Gag” laws, which criminalize the filming of factory farm conditions and other agricultural atrocities, and people who film the police.

In fact, the Free Flow of Information Act spends more time detailing what it will not cover than describing who it will protect.

Now, granted, Stone was writing in response to arguments by an ex-Romney staffer, Gabriel Schoenfeld, whose article, “Time for a Shield Law?” was published in the spring 2014 issue of National Affairs. From the quotey bits in Stone’s piece (not to mention an admittedly merely-cursory glance at the source), I don’t know if I could defend the premises of Schoenfeld’s article either. Conservative statism is just as bad as, if not worse than, liberal statism.

But Stone’s piece is still statist apologetics, and needs to be called out as such. So let’s go through the article.

After defining what journalist-source privilege is, and comparing it to the confidentiality agreements afforded doctors or lawyers, he describes a scenario where a congressional aide overhears a bribe taking place. This aide turns to a journalist, who assures them that their identity will not get out: “Without the privilege, the story would never have seen the light of day, but with the privilege the story gets out and the source remains anonymous.”

However, if the congressperson caught taking the bribe is prosecuted in federal court, the journalist is compelled to reveal their source, who is then compelled to testify. “Knowing this, the source in many instances will tell no one about what she overheard, and there will therefore be no investigation or prosecution for the bribe,” Stone writes.

This is definitely not good, but so far, this is simply an argument for a shield law, not the current shield bill being debated. In fact, this scenario presents the main stumbling block: why in the world is Congress going to pass a law that makes it easier for someone to incriminate them and get away scot-free?

Through their definition of who gets to be a journalist, they’re not. They are making sure that the outlets that crave the most access – the major networks, public radio, major newspapers – are the only ones covered; everyone else can suck eggs – especially Wikileaks, or organizations like it.

Stone is fine with this, as the above-quoted section of his article indicates. He’s okay with “compromise.” I’m not.

Edward Snowden y Satoshi Nakamoto.

A Edward Snowden, porque que en 2013 sus revelaciones de las travesuras malévolas de la Agencia Nacional de Seguridad de EE.UU. precipitaron un final definitivo y estrepitoso a la época en la que los políticos creían que podían ocultarle secretos a la gente.

A Satoshi Nakamoto, ya que con la emergencia y adopción generalizada de Bitcoin en su cuarto año de existencia, él, ella o ellos tocaron la trompeta que anunció una nueva era en la que la gente empezó a entender que pueden (y deben) mantener sus secretos a salvo de los políticos.

Estas dos épocas superpuestas tenían en realidad mucho tiempo terminando y comenzando. El comienzo del final de la primera era se remonta por lo menos hasta Daniel Ellsberg y los Papeles del Pentágono, y por supuesto, Julian Assange, Chelsea Manning y otros también desempeñaron papeles estelares. Los dos últimos, en particular, operando a través de los mecanismos de transparencia de Wikileaks, derribaron regímenes brutales en Túnez y Egipto, retiraron la cortina que impedía ver los crímenes de guerra de Estados Unidos en Irak y Afganistán, y con la revelación de los pecadillos del Departamento de Estado de EE.UU., presagiaron la exposición de la gangrenosa naturaleza de las operaciones de vigilancia y de inteligencia de la súper potencia, llevada a cabo por Snowden.

El comienzo de la nueva era se remonta por lo menos al PGP, Phil Zimmerman y los movimientos ciberpunk/cripto-anarquistas de la década de 1990. “Un elenco de miles”, por así decirlo. El Santo Grial del movimiento de la libertad de información – un estado de cosas en que el gobierno no es ni necesario ni puede ejercer un control efectivo sobre una próspera economía de la información – ahora puede verse sobre el horizonte.

Desde luego, no quiero minimizar las contribuciones de todos estos héroes del pasado (y de los presos políticos actuales como Manning y Ross Ulbricht), pero el punto final a una era, y el muy brillante amanecer de la otra, llegaron en 2013 en gran parte gracias a Snowden y Nakamoto .

Mi predicción es que 2014 será El Año del Gran Debate sobre la Privacidad. Los que conformamos al Centro para una Sociedad sin Estado, sin duda participaremos en esa discusión. Pero primero que nada, hoy hacemos una breve pausa para agradecer a Edward Snowden, Satoshi Nakamoto y todos sus antepasados ​​y co-conspiradores por hacer posible una discusión que puede proceder libre del control de los políticos, cuya única preocupación es la preservación de su propio poder.

Artículo original publicado por Thomas L. Knapp el 30 de diciembre de 2013.

Traducido del inglés por Alan Furth.

1) The Canadian Supreme Court’s striking down of the anti-prostitution laws. This was an important step in the direction of sex worker liberation. Not the only step that needs to be taken, but a meaingful one nonetheless.

2) Chelsea Manning’s continued heroic stand against the warfare state. It landed her in jail, but she has many supporters on the outside. Those of us who oppose American warfare statism have much to thank her for.

3) Radley Balko’s book on police militarization earns a spot in this piece, because those police powers are often used against the marginalized and oppressed. The War on Drugs is a notable example, because it predominantly targets African-Americans.

4) Edward Snowden’s revelations about the surveillance state. Glenn Greenwald has been instrumental in helping us find out about the spyng of the NSA. He deserves accolades for this principled behavior. It goes to show that he is one of the more reasonable left-liberals or centre-leftists out there.

Edward Snowden and Satoshi Nakamoto.

Edward Snowden, because in 2013 his revelations of evil hijinks by the US National Security Agency brought a final, crashing end to the era in which the politicians still believed they could keep secrets from the people.

Satoshi Nakamoto, because with the full-blown emergence and widespread adoption of Bitcoin in its fourth year of existence, he, she or they blew the trumpet on a new era in which the people started understanding that they can (and should) keep secrets from the politicians.

These two overlapping eras were actually a long time ending and beginning. The beginning of the former era’s end goes back at least as far as Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers, and of course Julian Assange, Chelsea Manning and others played large roles as well. Those last two in particular, operating through the transparency mechanisms of Wikileaks, brought down brutal regimes in Tunisia and Egypt, pulled back the curtain on US war crimes in Iraq and Afghanistan, and in revealing US State Department peccadilloes, presaged Snowden’s exposure of the gangrenous nature of US surveillance and intelligence operations.

The new era’s beginning goes back at least as far as PGP, Phil Zimmerman and the cypherpunk/crypto-anarchist movements of the 1990s. “A cast of thousands,” so to speak. The Holy Grail of the information freedom movement — a state of affairs in which government is neither necessary to, nor can exercise effective control over, a thriving information economy — can now be seen above the horizon.

I certainly don’t want to downplay the contributions of all these past heroes (and current political prisoners like Manning and Ross Ulbricht), but the final end to one era, and the true bright dawn of the other, came in 2013, largely thanks to Snowden and Nakamoto.

I predict that 2014 will be the Year of the Great Discussion on Privacy. We at the Center for a Stateless Society will certainly participate in that discussion. But first, today, we pause for a moment to thank Edward Snowden, Satoshi Nakamoto and all their forebears and co-conspirators for making possible a discussion that can proceed un-controlled by politicians whose only concern is the preservation of their own power.

Translations for this article:

• Spanish, 2013: Finaliza una Era y Comienza una Nueva.

William Pfaff discusses how history will remember Obama

Elizabeth Goiten discusses “good guys” and “bad guys” in the War on Terror.

Bruce A. Dixon discusses how Obama won a court case to keep sentencing disparities intact.

Chris Floyd discusses the murderous character of the American system.

Chris Floyd discusses the NSA spying scandal.

Scott Anderson reviews America’s Great Game.

Chris Floyd discusses the chemical weapons attack in Syria.

Robert Fatina discusses the status of forces agreement with Afghanistan.

Jacob Hornberger argues for a lifting of the Cuban embargo.

Nitin Rao discusses the criminalization of gay sex in India.

Dmitry Minin discusses the Jihadi warriors of Syria.

Arthur Silber discusses problems with Glenn Greenwald on whistleblowing.

Corey Robin defends campus activism and BDS.

Logan Yershov discusses the problems with assassination markets.

Arthur Silber discusses leaking.

Arthur Silber discusses the doctrine of exceptionalism.

Trevor Huitner discusses school shootings and thought crimes.

Christy Thornton discusses NYU grad student unionization.

Patrick Cockburn discusses the bankruptcy of the West’s Syrian policy.

Ann Jones discusses ROTC and child soldiers.

Hayes Brown discusses 5 surprising places that the U.S. military operates.

David Swanson discusses fighting for peace.

Tony Newman discusses the top ten Drug War stories of 2013.

Joshua Holland discusses the massive U.S. prison population.

Sheldon Richman asks whether Obama really wants an agreement with Iran or not.

Dr. Cesar Chelala discusses stopping Iran’s human rights abuses.

Patrick Cockburn discusses the humanitarian emergency in Syria.

Lucy Steigerwald discusses this year’s bad cops.

John Watson reviews My System and Blockade. Both of which are by the famous Russian player, Aron Nimzowitsch.

Chess Cafe offers its annual “year in review” for 2013.

All of it is shocking, but this is the worst:

Rusbridger said the leak amounted to about 58,000 files, and the newspaper had published “about 1 percent” of the total.

“I would not expect us to be publishing a huge amount more,” he said.

Some years ago, I remarked that professional (and even semi-professional) apologists for the Democratic Party, such as Digby, offer a credo which amounts to the following, once you strip away the endless, and endlessly dishonest, rationalizations: “We’re 2% less shitty than Pure Evil! It’s all we’ve got!”

I can adapt this credo with full accuracy for the actual role of the so-called “adversarial” press: “We’re 1% less shitty than the evil State! It’s all we’ve got — and it’s all we’re going to give you!”

I’m sure we’re all prepared to storm the barricades of the murderous surveillance State with this rousing call to arms as our inspiration. C’mon, baby, let’s get it on!

I’m also reminded of my observation about “dissenting” journalists like Chris Hayes: “The ruling class loves dissent like this. It’s not ‘dangerous’ in the smallest detail. If ‘dissenters’ like Hayes didn’t exist, the ruling class would have to invent them.” Ditto for the Guardian, and, yes, ditto for the Greenwald/Omidyar venture.

In the short time I’ve reflected on this latest article, I realized that the 1% figure actually tracks what we already knew about the extent of the Snowden documents compared with the number of pages from those documents which have been published. But to see it stated so baldly — especially when coupled with Rusbridger’s additional comment, “I would not expect us to be publishing a huge amount more” — truly does take my breath away. If we add in the pages that have been published in outlets other than the Guardian, under the ever-watchful, “responsible” eyes of the information controllers (primarily Greenwald and Poitras), what total figure would we come up with? Perhaps 2% of the Snowden documents have been offered to the public?

In this latest story, Rusbridger repeats all the usual “justifications” for the refusal to disclose more, including this:

Rusbridger denied placing intelligence agents at risk, saying the Guardian had “made very selective judgments” about what to publish and hadn’t revealed any names.

“Very selective judgments” — yeah, no shit. And it’s a decidedly odd “adversarial” press that adopts the State’s rationales with such enthusiasm (Greenwald completely adopts them, too). Why such concern with “placing intelligence agents at risk”? I suppose you wouldn’t want to endanger the next coup, or throw a monkey wrench into plans for the next invasion. We’re talking about “intelligence agents” who work at the direction and on behalf of a criminal, murdering, brutalizing Death State. One might argue that we don’t need to protect such agents: to the contrary, we need to protect ourselves — and other innocent people around the world — from them.

But that’s just me and my cranky, nutty old man routine. I clearly fail to appreciate what the exercise of power requires, or the eager self-censorship engaged in by those who make themselves indispensable handmaidens to power.

It is certainly true that the 1% or 2% of the Snowden documents that our betters have decided it is “responsible” to share with us have provided additional details of various governments’ surveillance activities. While the details may be new (and sometimes valuable), we haven’t learned anything in general terms that many of us hadn’t already figured out. And the severely restricted focus on the NSA represents a very dangerous shifting of focus to one agency, when the threat is far more widespread.

As for the Guardian doing the State’s bidding (and Greenwald/Poitras/Omidyar as well, since they are all using the same rule book, which is the one devised by the State), additional details are mentioned in this Guardian piece:

During an hour-long session in front of the home affairs select committee, Rusbridger also:

• Said the Guardian had consulted government officials and intelligence agencies – including the FBI, GCHQ, the White House and the Cabinet Office – on more than 100 occasions before the publication of stories.

• Said the D-Notice committee, which flags the potential damage a story might cause to national security, had said that nothing published by the Guardian had put British lives at risk.

Consider the enormous value of the hugely restricted publication of the Snowden documents to the various States involved. Rusbridger, Greenwald, et al. all trumpet the great triumph represented by the “debate” publication has engendered — the clamor of public voices demands “reform,” so committees will be formed, investigations will be undertaken, and when the dust has settled, life for the States involved will go on almost exactly as before (remember: if the NSA were disbanded today, identical surveillance would continue via other agencies and institutions of power) — and the States will be able to claim that the public knows the “truth,” and their activities now have the full blessing of informed public consent.

This is the dream script written by the States themselves — and it’s playing out in blood-drenched, high definition video before the willingly unseeing eyes of the world.

In his remarks, Rusbridger refers to his government’s efforts to “intimidate” the Guardian. I do not underestimate that intimidation, and I think Rusbridger’s comments must be viewed in part against that backdrop. It’s impossible to know to what extent Rusbridger emphasizes how few of the Snowden documents the Guardian has published — and how few additional documents it ever intends to publish — because of his desire to protect various individuals and theGuardian itself from government reprisals. But even if we appreciate this aspect of the charade being performed for us, it doesn’t make any difference in the end. Think of it this way: when you do the bully’s bidding — when you follow the bully’s orders — because you fear even worse results if you do not, you are not resisting the bully any longer. You are making the bully’s grip on power still stronger, and you have made the task of those who genuinely wish to challenge the bully’s stranglehold on power infinitely harder.

And that is precisely what all these “adversarial” journalists are doing: they have internalized the State’s demands almost completely (as I’ve detailed from the beginning of this saga, the journalists’ argumentsagainst disclosure track the State’s justifications at every point of significance), and they continue to willingly submit their decisions to the State for its review before publication. The governments involved have made clear that they are not seriously concerned about any of the disclosures thus far — and all the grandstanding about dangers to “national security” and the like, together with the efforts at intimidation, are designed primarily to discourage anyone who has even a stray thought about more far-reaching disclosure.

So I return to the 1% or 2% of the Snowden documents that have been made public. What would be the effect of publication of 20% of the Snowden documents — or 50%? Now that might likely cause serious disruption of the States’ operations, even at the 20% disclosure rate — and it is painfully obvious that none of the journalists involved have any intention of allowing publication on that scale. So whose side are the “dissenting” journalists actually on? It’s not the side of “the public,” despite all the blather about publication of what is in “the public interest.” No: they’re finally on the State’s side. But the charade allows the interested parties to pretend that a meaningful “debate” is occurring, and that “reforms” are in the offing that will make a serious difference. And everyone can sigh with relief that we finally know the “truth.”

On the basis of 1% or 2% of the total number of documents? We don’t know anything close to the truth and, with this cast of characters, we won’t in the foreseeable future.

Rusbridger’s comments also raise some important questions. Two of them should be answered by the journalists involved immediately. I have followed the NSA stories fairly closely since they began, and I have to state that, at this point, I have absolutely no idea who actually controls the Snowden documents, or various parts of them. Does theGuardian have its own copy(ies) of the entire Snowden trove? Rusbridger’s remarks seem to imply that. But it had appeared that only Greenwald and Poitras now have complete sets (see here for more on this, and this Update as well). And what happens when Greenwald and Poitras work with reporters at other newspapers on stories? Do those reporters get to keep their own copies of the documents about which their stories are written? Or do they only review copies temporarily provided to them? And so on. Since these particular journalists ceaselessly herald the virtues of transparency and accountability, how about some transparency and accountability on this question, especially since it’s now become hopelessly muddled? It should be easy to answer: these people — x, y, possibly, z, a, b, etc. — have complete sets; these people have partial sets (indicating in at least general terms the categories of documents held by additional individuals). As things stand now, except for knowing that Greenwald and Poitras have complete sets, we don’t know who has control of the documents. It seems to me that is of considerable importance. Isn’t it in “the public interest” to know which particular people control this allegedly world-shattering information?

My second question is of equal importance. Since it seems that, at most, a very, very small percentage of the Snowden documents will ultimately be made public, we are entitled to know why 98%, or 90%, or 50%, of the documents will never be made public. What percentage of the documents name names, and would therefore supposedly endanger “innocent” people? Can’t the names be omitted, and the redacted documents then published? Which percentage might endanger “national security”? How are these journalists determining what endangers “national security” (or what “national security” is?) or how much “danger” is permissible, if any? Is there some percentage of the documents that the journalists have determined to be not “newsworthy”? How is that determination made? What are the factors involved? As I noted in one of my earliest posts about this, we are offered only vacuous phrases devoid of specific content when it comes to the reasons for non-disclosure. In fact, we have no specific idea how any of these judgments are being made. Thus, we are reduced to the identical posture with regard to both the State(s) and the “dissenting” journalists: we just have to trust them.

To which, I have only this response: Fuck, NO.

One of the key pillars supporting the pretense of a “responsive democracy” is the belief in a “free,” “adversarial” press. But as described above — and there is much, much more that could be said on the subject — it is difficult to imagine how the NSA/surveillance story could redound more fully to the benefit of the States involved while simultaneously maintaining the illusion of “adversarial” journalism. It is a propaganda coup for the State of notable proportions. I, for one, am sickened by this deadly charade. It’s past time for it to end.

P.S. Before I saw this latest story this morning, I had already begun planning a new article (probably the first of several). The general subject is indicated by my provisional title: “Reflections on Power, Responsibility and Obedience.” The NSA story will be one example of the issues I intend to discuss, but perhaps not even one of the major examples. Nonetheless, the NSA story captures some of the dynamics that concern me with particular clarity. I hope to publish the first of those articles toward the end of this week.

If there is a single general theme to Glenn Greenwald’s career as a journalist, it is that he constantly confronts and challenges power and those who exercise power, primarily in the political sphere. Greenwald himself has often proclaimed this to be his major concern, and he repeated this conviction in a recent interview: “I came to believe if you’re smart, skilled, and have the resources, you should use those things to fuck with the powerful.”

So challenging power and those individuals who exercise power is a positive good, one of critical significance. Indeed, if you are able to do so, you should “fuck with the powerful.”

Pierre Omidyar is a multibillionaire. On Fortune magazine’s list of “The World’s Billionaires,” Omidyar appears as number 123. Fortune describes that article as follows: “The names, numbers and stories behind the 1,426 people who control the world economy.” At 123, Omidyar is very high on the list of people who control the world economy.

By any measure, Omidyar is a very powerful man, one of the most powerful in the world.

You may choose to believe Omidyar’s own proclamations about his work and goals:

Pierre and Pam Omidyar are active philanthropists engaged in numerous efforts to make the world a better place. Through their work, Pierre and Pam seek to provide opportunities for people to improve their lives, and ignite change across a variety of sectors and geographies. Guided by their belief that people are inherently capable and basically good, Pierre and Pam have committed more than $1 billion to causes ranging from entrepreneurship to human rights to chronic illness in children.

You may view this as noble and admirable. Or, perhaps, you may be struck by its insufferable pomposity and condescension. (I admit that I tend toward the latter view and paraphrased that remarkable paragraph to a friend as follows: “A multibillionaire who pats the rest of humanity on the head, and says: ‘There, there, now. I realize you’re poor, and sick, and have a shitty life — but you’re good too! I sincerely believe that! You’re good! And you can do … well, something. Cheer up you poor, sick person with a shitty life! I’m here to help you!'”)

But if we seek to analyze power, especially power on a vast scale, in a serious manner — as Greenwald the journalist would surely have us do — whether we believe in Omidyar’s (or anyone’s) nobility is entirely beside the point. The question is: Is it good for anyone at all to have this degree of power? There are additional questions: How does an individual acquire this much wealth and power? Even if his intentions are impossibly pure today, what happens if they change tomorrow? And there are many more related questions. I once remarked: “A government that has the power to save you also has the power to kill you.” The same is true of individuals.

This is the man with whom Greenwald has now formed an alliance. This is the man who says he wants to fund journalism which will systematically challenge the powerful. That challenge is Greenwald’s calling card as a journalist, and it is the trait that Greenwald and Omidyar tell us they seek to encourage and strengthen by means of their other hires. As the result of his alliance with Omidyar, Greenwald himself is rapidly becoming a man of notable wealth — and power.

If we apply Greenwald’s own methodology to his new venture — if, that is, we utilize the methodology which Greenwald tells us has brought him to the point where Omidyar finds it valuable and in his self-interestto go into business with him — aren’t we required to ask the questions Greenwald asks of all those who exercise power on a significant scale, but now ask those questions about Greenwald and Omidyar?

Shouldn’t we wonder if Omidyar has connections to companies that are directly implicated in the Snowden revelations — for example, Booz Allen? Shouldn’t we inquire as to whether such connections may affect future stories about surveillance? Isn’t it possible, perhaps even likely, that major conflicts of interest will arise? That companies to which Omidyar is connected in complex, non-obvious ways might not wish certain of their activities to be revealed? I would suggest these represent only the beginning of the questions that should occur to us.

If we wish to analyze the operations of power critically, we should adopt the approach that Greenwald repeatedly insists is the keystone to his work. Yet it appears that this is the one thing we must not do under any circumstances. Or, rather, we must not use Greenwald’s own methodology now, in these particular circumstances, since Greenwald himself would be subjected to the kind of questioning to which he subjects everyone else.

This is not a new story; it is the oldest story in the world. Beware the moralist — and Greenwald is, among other things, most certainly a moralist — who champions a standard for judging others, and who often applies that standard with merciless severity, but who exempts himself from that same standard. The same is true for many of Greenwald’s most fervent defenders: questions, and judgments, that they direct at many others are on permanent sabbatical as far as Greenwald and Omidyar are concerned.

I am not primarily concerned with particular conclusions we might consider justified at this early stage (although I have certainly indicated a few conclusions of my own, based on what I consider to be strong arguments). I’m most concerned with method — and the method at issue is the one forcefully advocated by Greenwald himself over the course of a number of years.

But with very rare exceptions, none of Greenwald’s admirers will entertain the indicated questions with even a modicum of seriousness. I see this in the reaction to my own posts on these matters: for the most part, my articles have been entirely ignored, even by those who often link and discuss my posts on other subjects. And I see the same reaction to others who cast a critical gaze on the Greenwald-Omidyar alliance. Is that what the pre-Omidyar Greenwald would counsel his current defenders to do? When confronted by a new venture which is the very embodiment of wealth and power, would pre-Omidyar Greenwald tell people to emulate the monkeys who decline to hear, see or speak of possibly discomfiting matters?

In discussing Greenwald’s ascension of the ladder of power and fame, I have remarked on the parade of awful ironies that now greet us daily. To the ironies I have already identified, we can add one more. Greenwald has written extensively about the endlessly destructive results of the doctrine of American exceptionalism. That doctrine instructs us that the United States government is entitled to pass judgment on the actions of every other nation in the world. When the U.S. ruling class is displeased, it is further entitled to mete out that punishment it deems appropriate in its sole discretion. There is no appeal from the court of the U.S. ruling class. Its judgment is final. (I have analyzed this noxious doctrine at length: “The Blood-Drenched Darkness of American Exceptionalism.”)

American exceptionalism imparts another “truth”: when the United States government acts in ways that our ruling class utterly condemns when pursued by others, that too is completely acceptable, and even admirable, for the U.S., but only for the U.S. The standards that the U.S. applies to everyone else are never to be applied to the U.S. itself, except on those extremely rare occasions when the United States charitably grants leave to do so (which is almost always when the exercise has ceased to have any meaning).

Greenwald has repeatedly and heatedly condemned the nature and operations of this doctrine. But now a doctrine identical in its premises and meaning has arisen in a very different context. Call it the Doctrine of Greenwald Exceptionalism.

Forget everything you knew. Abandon all the principles you championed. Set aside all the questions and critiques that would occur to you in an instant if anyone other than Greenwald were involved. It’s always the first surrender that is the hardest. Get past that, and you’re on your way. Bask in the praise that will be yours. Perhaps you’ll even get a job offer. They are actively hiring, after all.

If you have ever wondered why power wins so easily, you have no excuse for wondering any longer. Everyone loves a winner. Power is safety, power is comfort, power is life.

You should remember, and I mean this only figuratively (for the moment): power is also death.

The entire spectacle is disgusting.

WikiLeaks eliminated the filters — and most people were horrified. One of the most fascinating revelations in the widespread response to WikiLeaks’ work was that the disapproval of its basic approach — disapproval which ranged from contained but pointed tut-tutting (“My dear, we simply cannot function this way as a society!”) to outright loathing — was spread throughout the continuum of political views. Many of those on the left were as undone by WikiLeaks as those on the right, thus confirming that our culture’s insistence on the primary virtue of obedience to authority transcends comparatively superficial political distinctions.

Because it is crucial to what follows, I offer this summary of WikiLeaks’ methodology:

[WikiLeaks] transfers the demanding work — understanding the material in the first instance, and then making those judgments we think justified — to each and every one of us. Many people don’t want the responsibility. Their greatest preference is to defer to authority, to obey. WikiLeaks deprives them of that opportunity. One of the results is that many people profoundly resent WikiLeaks and wish only that it would instantly dissolve into nothingness.

This particular resentment stands largely separate and apart from a writer’s political beliefs, and you find it on both right and left. It is more deeply personal than political convictions alone. WikiLeaks allows people no excuse merely to obey, and they no longer have justification for being intellectually lazy. WikiLeaks’ critics often decry the manner in which government systematically and increasingly disregards citizens’ voices and concerns — but present them with the means to take back their own power in a meaningful way, and they recoil in horror. In addition to being invaluable in itself, WikiLeaks’ work provides this additional benefit: it reveals many people’s actual motivations and concerns. And one great truth that has been revealed (again) by this latest episode is that the majority of people want to be guided by authority, by “experts,” by those with “secret information.” Give them that “secret information” so they can judge it for themselves and they immediately cry: “Oh, we can’t possibly understand that! Only the State, or ‘experts,’ can be trusted with that information and explain it to us!” Most people want to obey. They’ve been taught obedience as the primary virtue, and they now believe the lesson and have fully internalized it.

For a detailed discussion of this issue, see “In Praise of Mess, Chaos and Panic,” and the essays referenced there.

As I set out in “In Praise of Mess” and developed further here andhere, WikiLeaks’ methodology stands in stark contrast to that used by the journalists to whom Edward Snowden gave his document trove. These journalists insist that filtering of the “raw” documents isindispensable to understanding by the otherwise untutored (and, presumably, unwashed) public. These journalists will first select which documents we will be permitted to see, and which we won’t (which is most of them). But that is far from sufficient in the view of these journalists, who are gifted with powers of understanding and judgment far exceeding the abilities of us ordinary schmucks. We are told that the Snowden documents are “difficult” and “complex.” Therefore, when we are allowed an occasional glimpse of carefully selected documents, these journalists will explain to us what we should think of them, and what conclusions we are entitled to reach. These self-appointed authorities are genuinely dedicated to the role they have granted themselves: they will guide us in every step we take. Our “protectors” will guard from all the dangers that might unleash chaos resulting in the immediate implosion of the rigid structures that narrowly circumscribe our lives: an original thought, a unique perspective, an unexpected insight.

If you are an unreconstructed and unsalvageable advocate of spontaneity and universe-shattering chaos, a troubling thought might occur to you at this point. In terms of basic approach, what choice is there between a State which is committed to constantly increasing its control over every aspect of our lives — and “experts” who are determined to shepherd us through each step of accessing and evaluating information, even information which directly affects every aspect of our lives? A few of you are thinking that this is no choice at all. Obviously, you’re entirely correct. You need to bathe in scalding water, and pray for deliverance from the gods of authority. It is pitiful that these journalist-“experts” are commonly regarded as presenting a serious challenge to the authoritarian State. It is equally pitiful that most of those on the left (broadly speaking) subscribe to this same view. This is further evidence of the universality of our training in the primacy of obedience. If you think authoritarianism is confined to the right, you have failed to pay attention in recent years, and you have missed much of history.

The radical nature of WikiLeaks’ approach could conceivably be dramatized in a film, but it would require a writer and director of extraordinary talent and imagination. Such a film would also depend on creators willing to challenge our culture’s widespread condemnation of WikiLeaks. People of this kind are unusual in any culture, and they are unheard of in Hollywood. It is only to be expected that The Fifth Estate, the Disney film about WikiLeaks and Julian Assange that opens later this week, sounds absolutely dreadful, as detailed in this valuable article: “Disney’s Ode to State Repression.” The writer notes that the film “serves as a rolling character assassination of Wikileaks founder Julian Assange,” and goes on to write:

Wikileaks has been at the forefront of the contemporary effort to push out uncensored, unvarnished data about crimes that range from corporate banking scandals to the U.S. massacre of Reuters reporters in Iraq. What really catches in the government’s craw? You’re free to review and assess that data unencumbered by big media spin or government censorship. How else to explain the feds’ debauched assault on independent journalist Barrett Brown, who’s facing over 100 years in prison for essentially repasting a publicly available link that contained publicly available data “that he was researching in his capacity as a journalist,” according to his lawyer.

Two principles have formed the core of Wikileaks’ operative mores since its formation: uncensored information and a rigorous commitment to protect the anonymity of the whistleblowers who provide that information. Unsurprisingly, authoritarian governments, criminal corporate enterprises and their toadies just hate these two prongs of potential exposure – full disclosure of primary source material and protection of the sources of that information.

The article mentions the central importance of anonymity several more times. This sentence leapt out at me:

Anonymity undermines managed dissent, and we live in an age of managed dissent.

From the State’s perspective, anonymity is deeply troubling. Threats to the State’s control can come from anywhere; when the State is unable to identify the sources of leaks, it is much more difficult to strengthen the State’s protections. What — and whom — does the State need to protect itself from? The State doesn’t know.

Anonymity is also critical in terms of the questions of method I’ve raised. When we don’t know the identity of a leaker, it is impossible to make the resulting story(ies) about the personalities of the players. Our sole focus must be on the content of the leaks, regardless of the source. And in fact, this is ideally how we should evaluate all information: on its own merits, on the strength of the arguments offered, regardless of the person involved. When we don’t even know the person involved, most people’s temptation to focus on comparatively trivial matters is removed at the outset.

With these factors in mind, it is instructive to consider the Snowden stories from an additional perspective, and to go back to close to the beginning. One question immediately comes to mind: Why, exactly, do we know Edward Snowden’s identity? I will admit (somewhat to my chagrin) that I failed to analyze this question with the care it demands; I will now attempt to rectify what I consider an error of some consequence. But as the NSA stories first appeared, I experienced what I know many others experienced. I was filled with admiration and gratitude for the enormous risks Snowden had chosen to run. Since it was unarguable that Snowden had put his life on the line, I was strongly disinclined to examine his behavior in a serious way. And I must emphasize even now that I do not engage in this discussion to raise questions about Snowden’s character or about him personally. As I hope will be clear, my major concern is Snowden’s self-identification with regard to the NSA stories themselves and how they are being offered to us. (I will also acknowledge that the analysis that follows does contain implications concerning Snowden’s character, but for the most part, I will leave the reader to draw what conclusions he will on his own.)

Snowden explained why he identified himself in his first interview with Glenn Greenwald:

Greenwald: “One of the extraordinary parts about this episode is usually whistleblowers do what they do anonymously and take steps to remain anonymous for as long as they can, which they hope often is forever. You on the other hand have decided to do the opposite, which is to declare yourself openly as the person behind these disclosures. Why did you choose to do that?”

Snowden: “I think that the public is owed an explanation of the motivations behind the people who make these disclosures that are outside of the democratic model. When you are subverting the power of government that’s a fundamentally dangerous thing to democracy and if you do that in secret consistently as the government does when it wants to benefit from a secret action that it took, it’ll kind of give its officials a mandate to go, ‘Hey tell the press about this thing and that thing so the public is on our side.’ But they rarely, if ever, do that when an abuse occurs. That falls to individual citizens but they’re typically maligned. It becomes a thing of ‘These people are against the country. They’re against the government’ but I’m not.”

“I’m no different from anybody else. I don’t have special skills. I’m just another guy who sits there day to day in the office, watches what’s happening and goes, ‘This is something that’s not our place to decide, the public needs to decide whether these programs and policies are right or wrong.’ And I’m willing to go on the record to defend the authenticity of them and say, ‘I didn’t change these, I didn’t modify the story. This is the truth; this is what’s happening. You should decide whether we need to be doing this.'”

Other statements from Snowden confirm these as the primary reasons that led him to come forward.

Snowden contends that “the public is owed an explanation of the motivations behind the people who make these disclosures.” Why? In terms of the documents’ contents, the motives of a particular leaker are entirely irrelevant. Snowden’s motives don’t alter what the documents say, or the programs they describe. Is Snowden suggesting that we should view the documents in light of his own character? That appears to be the implication. But as I suggested above, this is absolutely the wrong way to approach any information. The information is what it is; the identity of the person offering it should be of no concern to us at all. (There are rare exceptions to this rule, but none are relevant here.)

Snowden says that leaks like his “subvert[] the power of government,” and “that’s a fundamentally dangerous thing to democracy.” He worries that people might conclude he’s “against the government,” so he identified himself in part to assure everyone that he’s not “against the government.” In other words: he doesn’t wish to threaten the State in any serious way. Even though he himself thinks that the State’s surveillance powers threaten liberty and privacy, he is not committed to eliminating that threat. He wants “the public” to “decide whether we need to be doing this.” It thus appears that if “the public” approves total surveillance by the State, that outcome would be satisfactory to him in the most important sense (and despite the fact that he himself would choose differently). Any outcome would be all right, as long as “democracy” approves it after being informed of the relevant facts.

Snowden identified himself for an additional reason: if he insisted on personal anonymity, he is concerned that the State might treat that as a sanction for the State’s own secrecy practices. We might observe that the State hardly needs encouragement from Snowden (or anyone else) for its insistence on as much secrecy as it can get away with. We might also observe that a lone individual who incurs the wrath of the State — especially a State which proclaims its “right” to murder anyone it chooses, whenever it wishes — is hardly on equal footing with the State itself. (Do I actually need to say this? Apparently, I do.) No reasonable person could question Snowden’s desire to protect himself as fully as possible from the murderous anger of the State. And Snowden himself indicates that he’s well aware that the State might attempt to kill him. With regard to his personal safety, we should also note this passage from a Guardian article that accompanied that first interview:

The Guardian, after several days of interviews, is revealing his identity at his request. From the moment he decided to disclose numerous top-secret documents to the public, he was determined not to opt for the protection of anonymity.“I have no intention of hiding who I am because I know I have done nothing wrong,” he said.

I obviously agree with Snowden that he’s “done nothing wrong.” And it’s lovely that he himself believes that — but, honestly, what does his own conviction on this point (or mine, or yours) have to do with anything? Most importantly, what does it have to do with the State’s view of him, and with what the State is prepared to do about its own view? Nothing, nothing at all.

I am not aware of any additional arguments Snowden has offered for identifying himself. As I indicated, Snowden has repeated these arguments in different forms, but the arguments are the same. (If you know of additional arguments he’s made on this point, please let me know, although I strongly doubt they will alter my conclusions.) The reasons he offers for identifying himself are notably weak tea: they are irrelevant, or wrong, or wildly misplaced. At best, we can only say that Snowden is extremely naive. Despite his very strong criticisms of the State’s surveillance activities, he seems to have a curiously sanitized view of the State with which he is contending. He seeks to assure the State that his disclosures don’t represent a serious threat to State power, or at a minimum that he hopes they will not. In effect, he’s hoping his disclosures will lead all of us, including the powerful ruling class, to say: “We need to talk.”

Among my other reactions, I find all this extraordinarily puzzling. It becomes even more puzzling when we consider Snowden’s repeated insistence that he doesn’t want to be “the story” himself. If he had remained anonymous, he couldn’t be the story. So he made himself a key element of the story by identifying himself when he didn’t need to, and for reasons which are singularly unconvincing. And remember that he identified himself while he was still in Hong Kong. The result was that he was suddenly in the midst of a terribly dangerous situation. He only managed to get out of Hong Kong with great difficulty, and then his efforts to find asylum were hugely complicated by the fact that his identity was known throughout the world. (If we accept the fact that Snowden himself was very naive about the dangers he faced, there surely must have been others — for instance, the all-knowing journalists with whom he was interacting — who appreciated those dangers, or should have. Couldn’t they at least have convinced him to withhold his identity until after he was in a country that had granted him even temporary asylum?)

Snowden’s self-identification becomes somewhat less puzzling when we look at another element that was introduced in the story at the same time: the contrast with Chelsea Manning and WikiLeaks. From that same early Guardian article:

Snowden said that he admires both Ellsberg and Manning, but argues that there is one important distinction between himself and the army private, whose trial coincidentally began the week Snowden’s leaks began to make news.

“I carefully evaluated every single document I disclosed to ensure that each was legitimately in the public interest,” he said. “There are all sorts of documents that would have made a big impact that I didn’t turn over, because harming people isn’t my goal. Transparency is.”

He purposely chose, he said, to give the documents to journalists whose judgment he trusted about what should be public and what should remain concealed.

Look carefully at the second and third paragraphs in that excerpt. Note the huge contradiction they contain. On one hand, Snowden claims that he “carefully evaluated every single document I disclosed to ensure that each was legitimately in the public interest” — while the story goes on to state (and this is a claim that has been repeated numerous times) that he chose “to give the documents to journalists whose judgment he trusted about what should be public and what should remain concealed.”

If, in fact, Snowden “carefully evaluated every single document” he disclosed, and determined that “each was legitimately in the public interest,” why do these trusted journalists have to determine “what should be public” all over again? (We might conclude that the involved parties simply believe that you can never have too many filters. Given the way in which the NSA stories are being ever more fitfully delivered to us, I wouldn’t be disposed to argue with that view.) This element of the story never made any sense. But if you disbelieve Snowden’s claim that he “carefully evaluated every single document,” the mystery vanishes — and Tarzie recently demonstrated that Snowden’s claimcannot be true.

I began by describing the genuinely radical methodology employed by WikiLeaks. Just how radical that methodology is, was reflected in the title of one of my WikiLeaks essays from three years ago: “A World without Obedience or Authority: Toward a Life of One’s Own, and a Real Revolution.” The promise that WikiLeaks held out is one that the custodians of the Snowden leak strongly reject. Greenwald is at pains to constantly reiterate his admiration for WikiLeaks and Manning, but the manner in which he markets the NSA stories contradicts that claimed admiration at the most fundamental level. Beginning with that early Guardian article, Greenwald & Co. repeatedly emphasize that Snowden and the superlatively wise journalists overseeing the NSA stories are “responsible,” and “careful,” that they make certain never to endanger anyone or anything. They’re not “against the government,” and they certainly do not wish to threaten it in any serious manner. They want a “debate,” and they want “reform.” But as I’ve noted, “reform” of what I term the Death State is an exercise in unbridled, unreflective, and decidedly unserious fantasy. When he speaks of his and his compatriots’ “responsibility” and “care” in recent days, Greenwald doesn’t mention WikiLeaks or Manning by name — but he doesn’t need to. There is only one other leak story in the past few years that equals (and exceeds, in my view) the NSA stories, and everyone knows what it is.

The unavoidable implication of the way the NSA stories are marketed is that the NSA stories represent “good” leaking, while WikiLeaks represents “bad” leaking. Greenwald & Co. are “responsible,” WikiLeaks is not. Greenwald & Co. are “careful,” WikiLeaks is not. Greenwald & Co. are superbly protective of everyone on the planet, including the murderous ruling class, while WikiLeaks endangers every constituted authority and everyone who exercises destructive political power. And the fact that we know who Snowden is and was offers an additional benefit. From that same Guardian story, one more time:

He has had “a very comfortable life” that included a salary of roughly $200,000, a girlfriend with whom he shared a home in Hawaii, a stable career, and a family he loves.

A “good” whistleblower with a conscience that works overtime (even on behalf of those who would kill you in an instant, just for being there), who gave up big bucks — and even gave up a hot babe with whom he cavorted on Hawaii’s beautiful beaches. At sunset, no doubt.

The movie writes itself, doesn’t it? It was all there, right from the beginning. We should have seen it:

For more than a week, Hollywood has been exploring what could be one of the most difficult nonfiction projects it has ever tried: a proposed film based on the journalist Glenn Greenwald’s planned book about Edward J. Snowden, the fugitive whistle-blower.

As of late Friday, it was not clear that any studio had secured a deal. But 20th Century Fox, Sony Pictures Entertainment and the cable television powerhouse HBO were among potential buyers that had considered the project, according to several people who were briefed on it, but spoke on condition of anonymity because of confidentiality strictures

Mr. Greenwald’s planned book, which is based on his close contact with Mr. Snowden and promises fresh revelations about government and corporate intelligence-gathering, is set for publication next March by Macmillan’s Metropolitan Books imprint.

(The Times article is via Tarzie, who has thankfully been all over numerous aspects of this story.)

I don’t want to be misunderstood. I am obviously not suggesting that the NSA stories were designed from the outset with the goal of marketing what is potentially a blockbuster film to Hollywood. That would be ridiculously trivial, and hopelessly beside the point. What Iam arguing is what I regard as far worse. The self-appointed authorities who sporadically deliver the NSA stories to us, “carefully” and “responsibly” selected, sanitized, and redacted, have no quarrel with obedience or authority in the manner WikiLeaks does, more’s the pity. They obviously have no such quarrel, for they act as authorities themselves, and they do this with regard to what might have been a game-changer if handled in a fundamentally different way. But their gatekeeping has served and continues to serve to defang these stories of any meaningful danger to authority they might have had, just as their insistence on their own “responsibility” and “care” makes the NSA stories thoroughly “respectable” — and thoroughly safe. They don’t want to seriously threaten anything at all, much less overthrow it. They want a “debate,” after which you are free to choose tyrannical, murderous rule, if that’s what you want.

The article about The Fifth Estate excerpted above makes clear how Hollywood will treat anyone who represents a genuine threat: he will be subject to character assassination, his motives and character will be despoiled, and the crucial significance of the methodology he championed will be ignored. That article offers this further observation:

While the The Fifth Estate script includes a couple of toss-away bromides about Wikileaks’ commitment to the anonymity of its whistle-blowing information providers, its real thrust is to boost the fabricated ‘common sense’ notion that some information just isn’t ready for prime time consumption, ergo we should rely on ‘responsible’ outlets like The New York Times to parse the data for us.

To which we can add, “responsible” outlets like The Guardian.

But we have a noble, self-sacrificing hero, some danger but not too much, and even Hawaiian beaches. It’s all so respectable and safe that I’m sure Tom Hanks will be happy to star (Jennifer Lawrence will have a delicious cameo as Snowden’s girlfriend), and Steven Spielberg will be thrilled to direct. Fabulous. And all the leading real-life characters are well-prepared and well-practiced for their interviews. We might say they’re ready for their close-ups. What a fucking great country.

It’s enough to make you weep, isn’t it? Yes, I thought it might.

In other words, if the government tells me I shouldn’t publish something, who am I as a journalist to disobey? Put that on the tombstone of western establishment journalism. It perfectly encapsulates the death spiral of large journalistic outlets.

Four months ago, when the NSA-surveillance stories had just begun to be published, I wrote a piece setting forth my strenuous objections to the methodology employed by Greenwald (and by the other journalists involved): “Fed Up with All the Bullshit.” At the outset of my article, I noted Greenwald’s explanation for that methodology:

“We’re not engaged in a mindless, indiscriminate document dump, and our source didn’t want us to be,” said Glenn Greenwald, the Guardian writer, in an email to BuzzFeed Saturday. “We’re engaged in the standard journalistic assessment of whether the public value to publication outweighs any harms.” …

“We’re applying the standard judgment test that journalists apply every day: first, is it newsworthy and relevant, ie, is there public interest in knowing this?” Greenwald told BuzzFeed. “If so: is there genuine harm that comes from publication? And if there is harm, does the public value outweigh/justify the harm?”

In “Fed Up with All the Bullshit” and in an earlier post I “discussed what ought to be a disturbing similarity between the justifications for concealment employed by Snowden’s chosen journalists and the State’s justifications for keeping massive amounts of information from the public. In both cases, the ‘authorities’ rely on factors and standards that are never specifically defined, on the basis of which they engage in some kind of unexplained ‘weighing’ process, all to decide whether to reveal or conceal the information in question.”

What has transpired in the four months since I wrote that compels the following conclusion: Greenwald, together with the other journalists to whom he has granted access to the Snowden documents and who abide by his ground rules, is engaged in precisely the same exercise of power that the State employs. Yet Greenwald continues to vehemently condemn the State’s exercise of such power, just as he condemns those who obey the State’s edicts, while he and his enthusiastic fans view his identical exercise of power in glowing terms, offering endless praise for the “bravery,” “courage” and “independence” demonstrated by those who bring us these carefully selected, sanitized, edited, and redacted tidbits from the documentation of the State’s actions and crimes.

It thus appears that what is alarming, and even heinous, when committed by the State mysteriously becomes imbued with profound nobility of spirit and boundless courage when committed by self-selected individuals. The modes of behavior in both cases are identical; the sole difference lies in the identities of the actors involved. I could point to historical examples of “revolutionaries” who prove to be far bloodier and more destructive than the “authorities” they replace once the revolutionaries themselves accede to power. That is far from a minor point, and it underscores the great danger of endorsing the exercise of power if only it is utilized by those of whom one “approves.” That, in turn, highlights the nature of my objection, which is to the exercise of power itself in this manner. Or, as I put it in the earlier post: “Bullshit, all of it. These are the dishonest, insulting arguments of power used to justify itself. To hell with it.”

Some questioning of Greenwald & Co.’s methods is now being offered, but not nearly enough. The endless plaudits continually offered to Greenwald & Co. serve to emphasize a point I’ve argued for years, although we hardly needed further evidence for the proposition: most people do not object to power itself. Most people are enormously comfortable with power, and they are more than happy to obey the dictates of those in positions of authority. Their only requirement is that power be exercised by those they approve and view favorably. It should not be necessary to state explicitly a logically compelled further point. But, since the minds of so many “dissenters” and “radicals” seem to be on extended vacation, it is advisable to set it out: You cannot successfully challenge an enemy by adopting his methods. When you adopt the enemy’s methods, you no longer challenge him: you become him. (This is a variant of a principle I identified long ago: “When you argue within the framework and using the terms selected by your opponent, you will always lose in the end. Even if you make a stronger case about one particular issue, your opponent still wins the larger battle — because you have permitted the underlying assumptions and the general perspective to remain unchallenged.”)

In Greenwald’s case, the horrifying ironies parade before us in endless procession. For years, Greenwald has furiously railed against authoritarians and their followers, and against the unchallenged exercise of power. Yet in the last month or so, whenever Greenwald himself is seriously challenged — and when he deigns to reply — he exhibits all the traits of those he has mercilessly condemned. As I wrote to a friend just yesterday: “I was never certain what [Greenwald] genuinely believed, as distinct from what he said he believed for marketing purposes. Since he himself is now openly the overbearing, pretentious, condescending, bullying, authoritarian shithead he always condemned, it rather puts his entire public persona in question.”

There’s some plain speaking for you. I offer it in large part because I’m sick to death of the fawning, unquestioning adulation being offered in place of analysis. I also offer it because it’s true. Is anyone capable of thinking about the NSA stories and the way in which they are being offered in a serious, critical manner?

Tarzie is: see here, here and here, and follow the links for much more. As further evidence for my harsh judgment, I also direct you to several Greenwald tweets. I’m not on Twitter myself and have no plans to be. But I occasionally follow a few discussions that I find of interest. Here’s one Greenwald tweet in response to questioning: “Which specific documents should be released that haven’t been? Are there any?” If you read the subsequent tweets (at the same link), you’ll read this from Greenwald: “So if you can’t even say that there’s been a single doc we improperly withheld, what’s your criticism?” This is idiotically nonsensical. Moreover, Greenwald himself has to know it’s idiotically nonsensical. How on earth can an outsider identify “specific documents” that “should be released,” when no outsider has any idea what Snowden turned over? Greenwald has repeatedly made clear what he thinks of this kind of argument when it is offered by others.For example: “You can’t prove that Iraq doesn’t have WMD, so … WAR!!!” Or: “You can’t prove that Iran won’t have nuclear weapons at some point and/or be a threat to the U.S. for some unspecified reason, so … WAR!!!” Greenwald is the one with unfettered access to the documents, and he’s the one who will not explain his method for releasing them (or, for the most part, not releasing them) except in the vaguest, ultimately meaningless terms. But somehow it is the questioner’s fault for being unable to identify what is inherently impossible for him to identify.

Or try this tweet: “There are some people for whom a sense of failure is a vital part of their worldview & need it.” According to Greenwald, if we fail to acknowledge and offer appropriate gratitude for his changing the world, it’s because of a character or psychological failure on our part. He resorts to this tactic with distressing regularity; for his efforts, Tarzie was rewarded with a veritable bouquet of psychological and characterological abnormalities. Moreover — and this is the far more important point — Greenwald isn’t changing the world. (Obviously, you must take that with many grains of salt; it’s only my overpowering feelings of jealousy, inadequacy, and utter intellectual impotence that make me entertain such revolting ideas.)

Here’s still another Greenwald tweet: “Despite the lies of some, I never once – never – said that a single doc was withheld because of ‘national security'” But as a followup tweet from his questioner makes clear, “national security” was used merely to summarize one of Greenwald’s deliberately vague and non-specific grounds for continuing to withhold documents (as, not coincidentally, the State prefers). And it isGreenwald who first introduced the notion of “harm” into the formula for determining which documents to release or withhold, and it isGreenwald who talks of not wanting to identify “covert agents” and the like. What is all that, if not “national security”? Ah, but it’s “national security” as determined by Greenwald, and not by the State — so that’s okey dokey. And, through a secret alchemical process, “national security” isn’t “national security” when Greenwald references questions of “national security,” at least in this particular context. (This is another tactic Greenwald favors: unequivocally stating that “A is terrible,” and then, when questioned several minutes or a day later, emphatically declaring: “I never said A is terrible! You completely misunderstood me!” Or even: “You’re lying!” All of which calls to mind:

“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.”

“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”

“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, “which is to be master – – that’s all.”

Remember: we’re talking about power.)

And on and on it goes. And all this is from one exchange that I happened to see; I’ve read enough references to similar Twitter conversations and other exchanges to know that Greenwald “argues” in this manner very frequently whenever his methods are challenged. The “arguments” that he offers are all ones that Greenwald has ridiculed and criticized at length when they were offered by others.One of the lessons we can draw is the uniformity of the intellectual corruptions that occur when anyone is placed in a position of power — and when he seeks to protect that power, and when he enjoys its exercise. We should note that these kinds of responses to serious questioning are those of someone who can be described as an authoritarian bully (among other terms). As I said, the ironies are numerous, and awful.

And there can be no doubt that Greenwald is enjoying his power over the dissemination of the Snowden documents, and that he keenly appreciates the many values that power confers on him. Not least of those values are the marketing advantages that he seeks to exploit. And that’s what a lot of this is about: marketing. This is already longer than I had anticipated, so I’ll discuss the marketing aspects next time.