The tale of Robin Hood is the widely popular folk legend of a common man who takes up arms against the wealthy and distributes their riches to the poor through daring, heroic feats. In today’s society, where people constantly feel the duress of the mighty thumb of the elite, the appeal of such a tale is clear. It is also fair to draw the comparison between a 14th-century folk hero and a modern day martyr like Internet activist Aaron Swartz. However, one must first analyze the situation and the man before labeling him a martyr and a contemporary Robin Hood.
Three weeks after the tragic suicide of Aaron Swartz, developer of the social news and entertainment page Reddit and the Demand Progress campaign against Internet censorship, the online community is still indignant about his alleged “killers,” the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the federal government. The online world has gone into a near mass mourning and has expressed extreme anger with MIT and the government for Swartz’s sentencing and, consequently, his death. Swartz’s punishment wasn’t death, but rather a 35-year prison sentence for the leak of over two million articles from the journal database JSTOR to the public, which he accomplished through an MIT computer. Swartz’s death was a suicide carried out in reaction to his sentence, but it is also important to note his longstanding battle with depression and the fact that suicide is the second-leading cause of death among people in his age group. To call it politicized is arguable, martyrdom a bit far-fetched.
There are several questions that must be asked. Why, after JSTOR declined to press charges back in 2011, did MIT continue to press them even though Swartz returned the data? Why did he receive a longer prison sentence than violent criminals or sexual predators would for their crimes? What was his crime? Apparently being Robin Hood, but rather than stealing coins he stole information. MIT very much plays the role of the Sheriff of Nottingham in this situation, an authority in academia and someone who collects at the discretion of people he wishes to please.
Swartz did not just undermine MIT, he undermined the prestige of the university system. A quick glance at the history of the university system, the sole center of scholarship for many centuries before the prominence of lending libraries and public information, shows that the distribution of information exclusively to these institutions is threatening. Universities are still businesses — exclusivity of information attracts talent and prestige, which collectively empower the university. If for a single instant the incredible wealth of information of universities was shared with those who don’t pay hefty fees to attend them, there would be a huge shift in influence in the academic world. Prestige drives the university system, and Swartz struck the behemoth, throwing it into a frenzy.
Aaron Swartz might seem to fit the template of the man from legend, until one realizes Robin Hood is nothing more than a folk tale popularized by 14th-century gents who told romantic stories in England. Anyone can look at English history and tell you that simple burglary did not remedy century-old errors of broken systems. Changing the role and place of information in our society is a drawn-out process and requires a conversation involving both sides, because theft does not change the system and thieves only get caught, as Swartz and Robin Hood did. However, Swartz’s story is not a folk legend. Martyr or not, he suffered real world consequences.
A version of this article appeared in the Monday, Feb. 4 print edition. Nikolas Reda-Castelao is a contributing columnist. Email him at [email protected].
