Eden Read Free Page B

loaded shelf. I hadn’t realised that so many computer companies were registered with Plant and Partners .
    Ivan’s report contained nothing that could not be gained from spending an hour going through the public records. It was no wonder that Lucy had been frustrated by how little he’d produced. Again, asked myself what Ken Dollimore was looking for.
    . . .
    Chris Laskaris’s office was on the third floor of Industry House. There was an intercom outside. While waiting to be buzzed in, I peered through double-glass doors at thick green carpet, a curved reception desk, framed small business awards sharing wall space with more dot paintings.
    The office was open plan. Chris took me to an alcove with a desk, computer and two chairs. His smile said nice to see you. Chris and Ivan had met as students, though Chris was much younger, and obviously on the fast track even then. He’d started an ISP business with another young Greek guy, in a garage in O’Connor. They’d parted company, and I didn’t know what had happened to his ex-partner, but Chris had gone from garage to office to bigger office to industry representative. He’d put himself on the record as opposing Internet censorship, and at the same time had got the best deal he could for the people who now paid his salary.
    â€˜I wanted to ask you about this censorship stuff, how it’s panning out,’ I said.
    Chris was wearing the bottom half of a suit that I didn’t think Ivan would ever be able to afford, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and no tie. He pushed his sleeves up further, a gesture that revealed his smooth tanned arms.
    â€˜You’re in a difficult position,’ I prompted, ‘I mean, with your members having to supply filters when you don’t believe they can do the job the politicians have promised Australian families they’ll do.’
    â€˜Tell me about it.’ Chris smiled, then made a deprecating face, head on one side. He looked as though he swam every evening, three kilometres to my half a one. He looked like he’d been born knowing how to play both sides against the middle.
    The On-line Services Bill, Chris explained, which had come into effect on January 1, did two things. It set up a complaints mechanism so that people could object to offensive Internet sites, and the Australian Broadcasting Authority could order them to be taken down—a futile process, critics of the legislation said, since the owners of the sites would simply move offshore. In addition, Australian Internet Service Providers were required to provide filters, or other kinds of blocking software, to their customers. This was where CleanNet and their many competitors came in.
    â€˜What about CleanNet ?’ I asked. ‘Is their package any better than the others?’
    â€˜Have you tried it?’
    â€˜It blocked the National Party site. Is that meant to be a joke?’
    Chris laughed and said, ‘It’s not technically possible to produce a reliable filter.’
    â€˜Will it be, in the near future?’
    â€˜I don’t believe so. I’m a programmer, and I know how these things work. The marketing people sell a product, then tell the programmers to make it. When the programmers say it can’t be done, their opinions are swept aside as unnecessarily modest.’
    â€˜A compromise is reached?’
    â€˜Usually.’
    â€˜But usually without a political spotlight.’
    â€˜Usually without that, yes. We’re between a rock and a hard place on this one. Consumer legislation states that companies must provide products that are fit for the purpose for which they are sold. So the consumers who need protection may end up suing the companies for not providing what we said couldn’t be provided because it wasn’t technically possible.’
    Chris shrugged and spread his hands, palms downwards on the desk.
    â€˜The companies supplying the