Adjusting to Internet usage caps

The email arrived quietly, as they all do, but I knew that this one was different, special in an infuriating way. Upon reading it, I felt a fire of rage in my gut and a hearty, sanctimonious steam rise from my brow. Eighty percent of my Internet usage had been consumed, and only halfway through the month. At this rate my Internet bill would top $300.

I first entered the bizarre world of Internet usage caps two months ago when I returned to Palmer. Never before has my Internet spigot been regulated in this manner and as I learned of it from the kind customer service agent at that three letter company that shall not be named, a look of disbelief and disgust swept across my face.

“I’m sorry. Welcome to Alaska.” In a feeble attempt to comfort me, he added, “I am sure you won’t exceed it.”

Clearly, he doesn’t know me. The cap didn’t stand a chance.

Like many people, I use the Internet for just about everything. I agree wholeheartedly with the United Nations’ assertion that disconnecting people from the Internet is a human rights violation. I watch with happiness as people across the world use the tools of the Internet to connect with each other, access educational resources, speak against injustice, express ideas and entertain themselves.

How can it be that Alaska, the Great Land, with its oil wealth, military infrastructure and long winters does not have a connection to the Internet that can support contemporary usage?

It turns out that in all likelihood, our connection to the Internet is not the problem. According to a study published this month by the New America Foundation entitled “Capping the Nation’s Broadband Future?” the data caps imposed on us by our Internet gatekeepers have nothing to do with network congestion, but rather are “a business decision by ISPs [Internet service providers] to boost revenues per subscriber or protect legacy services in a market where consumers have few choices and only switch services on a very limited basis.” The legacy services in this case being landline telephones and cable television, which the data caps successfully insulate from their superior online competitors.

The authors go on to liken congestion on the Internet to a traffic jam on a highway. Since traffic jams only occur on particular stretches of roads at particular times, it makes sense to address driving patterns that apply to these specifics. Having download caps would be like limiting Alaskans to driving only for a limited amount of time each month. While this regulation might reduce congestion along troubled stretches of road, it would also affect many other aspects of our life and stifle our economy. If Internet providers actually wanted to address congestion, they would create rules that discourage usage at peak times, sort of like when telephone companies had lower rates on Sundays or in the evening, which encouraged people to make calls when the networks were less busy.

Interestingly, the concept of data caps is relatively new and most companies only began adopting them after 2008. More and more Internet providers are moving in this direction, despite the fact that network infrastructure costs are decreasing and providers are making record profits.

But Alaska is different, right? Sure, the density of people is much lower in rural areas of the state and that’s why I don’t complain (much) that my standard monthly Internet bill is more than twice the amount here than anywhere else I have lived.

I can understand a company trying to satisfy its shareholders and maximize profits, but I shudder to think about the size of the Internet bill for a large, fully connected family. When I called my provider to voice my moral outrage (I encourage you to do the same and to ask immediately to speak to a supervisor) she grilled me about my usage, and in a hushed, accusatory tone uttered: “Well, you must use Netflix.” Her words were like gasoline on my raging fire and betrayed her infantile understanding of the Internet.

The misunderstanding by the gatekeepers that the Internet is nothing more than a mere toy is, I believe, the crux of this issue. At my previous job, I focused on helping teachers and students use technology in meaningful ways and I was continually astounded at the plethora of powerful learning and communication tools currently available. Of course, they often demand the passage of large amounts of data that, in our current Internet environment, could easily burden a two- or three-student family with stratospherically high Internet bills.

Internet providers need to understand that a connection to the Internet that is fast and unlimited is good for the community in myriad ways. They should open their networks to maximize usage, be honest with us about congestion and build protocols that minimize traffic jams. This is not simply about me being a tightwad and griping about paying more for the Internet; it is about having an Internet provider that considers the long-term interests of the community that supports it.

Google has begun to offer Internet service in select cities. Its plan is about half the price of what I pay now, has no data caps and is 50 times faster. This is the type of network that attracts businesses, allows creative people to share online, and fosters thriving students. One day, maybe, a similarly forward-thinking Internet connection will arrive in the Valley.

So, merry Christmas. Have fun with that brand new, beautifully crafted machine that has the potential to harnesses the power of a network that encompasses 2.5 billion people across our world. But whatever you do, don’t go online with it. It’s the end of the month and we are over our data cap.

And, for the record, I do not use Netflix.

Pete LaFrance grew up in Palmer and has moved back to the area after a number of years living abroad.