
While John McCain claims to be immune to moneyed interests, his approach to encryption regulations suggests a different story. As Mr. McCain’s dramatic reversal in this area indicates, he may have changed his tune to make Silicon Valley donors sing.
By scrambling computerized data, encryption programs protect electronic privacy. Fearing terrorists will use encryption to cloak their communications, the national security establishment has sought guaranteed power to read encrypted documents and e-mail. Regulators responded with export regulations, which barred companies from exporting encryption that could not be easily broken.
Until these regulations were relaxed in January, technology companies fought them hard. As these companies argued, regulations did not prevent strong encryption from spreading and gave an unfair advantage to overseas competitors. These cries were ignored in Washington, where key policymakers, including Senator McCain, favored expanded controls that threatened Americans’ privacy. The Clinton Administration, backed by the FBI, led the charge.
Beginning with 1993’s "Clipper Chip" proposal, they spent several years trying to require that all encryption programs contain a back door. Widespread criticism from legislators, the public, and privacy advocates, who feared law enforcers would abuse their surveillance power, forced the administration into a desperate position. It needed to keep presenting alternative policies without abandoning its goals. And it needed the momentum that outside support from a credible figure could bring. Senator McCain became the Administration’s hero in 1997, when he introduced the Secure Public Networks Act (SPNA).
The SPNA intended to replace back doors with a key recovery system. This system would require computer users to hand over their keys – electronic tools that decode encrypted data – to government-run databases. Law enforcers with a warrant could then access encrypted data and e-mail. While Senator McCain’s bill only applied to networks that received government funding, critics argued it would have provided an infrastructure that could be easily expanded.
But McCain, Senate Commerce Committee Chairman and a compelling national security spokesman, was a formidable adversary. "I am a supporter of the free market," he said upon announcing the bill, "but the free market cannot be allowed to act in a manner that is contrary to our nation’s security needs." These words delighted the Administration but disgusted technology companies, who saw Senator McCain as a villain. This didn’t concern him – he pushed his bill for the next two years– unt until he began soliciting their donations.
In early 1999, presidential hopefuls started courting the technology community, an increasingly active – and wealthy – political force. On his then-frequent western swings, Senator McCain toured Microsoft, Yahoo!, and other companies whose business strategies can only flourish if Internet users are confident their information is secure. But according to the Center for Responsive Politics, he raised only $17,200 from individuals in the technology community in the first quarter that year, compared to $110,900 for Governor George W. Bush. With several Silicon Valley trips scheduled for May, he needed enhanced appeal. That is when his encryption policy changed.
On March 31st, Senator McCain reversed his position, dropping the SPNA and immediately co-sponsoring the PROTECT Act, a reform bill. Under PROTECT, companies would have been free to export strong encryption products after examination by an advisory board. Key recovery was abandoned, as were trap doors. "This bill protects our national security," McCain said, "We must update our laws to reflect the realities of the Information Age."
Both sides of the debate were stunned. The Clinton Administration was left dead in the water. The technology community was elated that its key opponent had changed sides. David Sobel of the Electronic Privacy Information Center, a frequent sparring partner with McCain’s proposals, told the New York Times the switch was an "encouraging development …The only thing I can speculate on is that his presidential ambition has made him more sensitive to the business concerns." High-tech donations ro McCain did increase to $50,050 in 1999’s second quarter, but it is impossible to say if this amounts to a reward. While Senator McCain made the right move, only he knows if it was driven by the right motive.
One hopes that, after re-examining his policy, he saw the light and changed his mind, a liberty that politicians do not exercise often enough. But if Senator McCain’s fundraising efforts impacted his position’ as as the timing of his reversal suggests they may have&Mac178; he is a victim of the very inclinations he derides. And observers on all sides, particularly high-tech businesses, are entitled to wonder whether the candidate's views on encryption may some day swing back to their original position.
*Justin Matlick is a Senior Fellow in Information Studies at the Pacific Research Institute. To learn more about PRI and the Center for Freedom and Technology, see www.pacificresearch.org.