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Everyone
has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes
freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and
impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of
frontiers.
- Article 19, Universal Declaration of Human Rights
Introduction
Originally written in 1948, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR)
set out to articulate the basic human rights for all people. However, in
1969 Jean D’Arcy wrote that “the time will come when the Universal
Declaration of Human Rights will have to encompass a more extensive
right than man’s right to information. … This is the right of man to
communicate” (D’Arcy as quoted by Fisher, 2002, ¶ 1). Since 1969 the
world has struggled with how to define, translate into policy, and
implement D’Arcy’s right to communicate. This paper explores the history
of the right to communicate and the attempts to translate it into
policy, both on an international stage and in a Canadian context.
Alternative policy paths for advocates for the right to communicate will
also be examined and suggestions for concrete actions will be made.
Solidarity rights
The
right to communicate is what is known as a third generation, solidarity,
or collective human right. First generation rights are civil and
political rights, such as the right to free speech and freedom of
assembly. Such first generation rights are embodied in the French
Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen and the
American Constitution. They deal with liberty and serve to protect
individuals from the state. They are negative rights, meaning that an
individual has the right not to be subject to another person’s or
group’s actions. In other words, negative rights forbid certain actions.
Second generation rights are social, economic, and cultural rights. They
include the right to education, health care, and standard of living and
can be found in the UDHR. Unlike negative first generation rights,
second generation positive rights
provide
individuals with something through the actions of another person or
group (Fredman, 2006). According to the UNESCO Report on Human
Rights, Human Needs and the Establishment of a New International
Economic Order, there is an underlying notion of conflict for first
and second generation rights “in that clashes of interest between
individuals and groups may be intimately associated with violations of
rights” (UNESCO in Hassan, 1983, p. 57). In contrast, third generation
rights can only be achieved through communal efforts. They link human
needs and rights to a global stage and have the notion of solidarity as
their basis. Or, as Birdsall, McIver, and Rasmussen state:
These collective rights differ from earlier generations in that they
tend to arise out of global concerns, embody both individual and
group rights, are even stronger positive rights than the earlier
social and economic rights – often requiring multi-state action –
and they are typically extensions or redefinitions of earlier rights
(Birdsall, McIver & Rasmussen, n/d, Environmental and human rights,
¶ 2).
Solidarity rights include the right to development, the right to be
different, the right to communicate, the right to peace, the right to a
healthy environment, and the right to the common heritage of man kind.
The right to
communicate
Advocates for the right to communicate argue that ability to communicate
is the essence of being human (McIver et al., 2003). Originally
the right to communicate had its roots in Article 19 of UDHR [1].
It is also supported by Article 27 [2] and Article
28 [3]. Right to communicate advocates argue that
these articles only address information rights, and, as a result, they
were unable to handle the rapid technological changes in communication
systems that happened throughout the 1950s, the results of which we can
see today. Jean D’Arcy argued that “Article 19 was formulated in a
post-war environment concerned about the free flow of information or
content rather that about the process of communication” (McIver et al.,
2003, Satellites and communication rights, ¶ 9). By this, D’Arcy meant
that Articles 19, 27, and 28 only really protected the vertical, or top
down, flow of information, as characterized by the mass media, and not
the horizontal communication that was being made possible by
technological developments like satellite systems and, even though
D’Arcy died before it was publicly available, the Internet. As McIver
et al. argue:
[T]raditional
rights based on individual communication structures are outmoded.
Because the older communication structures were concerned about the
distribution of content, the rights associated with then were
focused on content as well. The new, interactive, unified system is
about the process of communication, hence, the need for a new right
that does not exclude considerations of content, but whose starting
point is the process of communication (McIver et al., 2003,
Mass media mentality, ¶ 6).
Because the
right to communicate attempts to combine and redefine previously
articulated rights, it has been difficult to create an agreed upon
definition. At first glance, Article 19 appears to state exactly what
the right to communicate is trying to say. However, it does not
distinguish between information and communication. D’Arcy did not like
that these two distinct concepts were routinely conflated. For example,
UNESCO originally defined the right to communicate as “the right of all
people to receive uncensored, objective information” (UNESCO in Hassan,
1983, p. 59). This is not what D’Arcy intended when he articulated the
right to communicate. UNESCO’s definition of the right to communicate is
really just a restatement of the traditional right of freedom of the
press, which is inherently vertical, or top-down, communication. What it
lacks is D’Arcy’s notion of true communication:
The phenomenon of the mass media is neither ineluctable nor
permanent. What matters is the establishment or re-establishment of true
communication among human beings. The technical instruments for this
exist today. They are at last in our hands. This new capability should
be matched by new ethics, recognising and organising, both for
individuals and … for “the communities which they compose” … (D’Arcy,
1983, p. xxv-xxvi).
Even though a definition of the right to communicate has been difficult
to achieve a description of the Right has been developed. It is a
multi-layered description, first put forth by L.S. Harms in 2001, that
includes fundamental rights, inclusive rights, and comprehensive rights.
The first layer describes the right to communicate as a fundamental
right. Everyone has the right to communicate. It is both a “natural
right of the human person and a prerequisite for the exercise of
other human rights” (Harms, 2001, p. 32). However, the exercise of this
fundamental right will lead to unintended conflict and debate, therefore
a second layer of the description is needed to balance communication
freedoms and communication responsibilities: inclusive rights. These
inclusive rights could be loosely labelled communication rights and
consist of the association rights, information rights, and global rights
found in Articles 19 (the right to freedom of opinion), 20 (the right to
peaceful assembly), 21 (the right to take part), 12 (the right to
privacy), and 27 (the right to participate). In addition, Harms includes
the right of choice, even though it is not explicit but instead
implicit, in the UDHR. This layer is intended to make the right to
communicate an ever evolving and open concept. Harms illustrates this
layer as follows:
Association
Rights
Assemble
Speech
Participate
… |
Information
Rights
Inform
Informed
Inquire
… |
Global
Rights
Privacy
Choice
Culture
… |
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(Harms, 2001,
p. 33) |
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He states that:
“The three dots signify that from time to time any two specific
communication rights may be consolidated or that new specific rights may
be added as circumstances warrant” (Harms, 2001, p. 33). In other words,
the inclusive rights layer of the description is an interdependent
layer. For example, the rights to privacy and inquiry are linked, as are
the rights of participation, information and culture. This layer takes
into account the potential disagreements that may arise as a result of
the first layer. For example, people may have the right to be informed,
but that right should not impede upon the right to privacy.
In the last layer the right to communicate is described as comprehensive
right. Essentially, this layer of the description brings the fundamental
and inclusive layers of the Right together. According to Harms it could
be described as:
Everyone has the right to communicate; this fundamental
human right includes but is not limited to the following specific
communication rights: a right to assemble, a right to speech, a right to
participate and related association rights; a right to inform, a right
to be informed, a right to inquire and related information rights; a
right to privacy, a right to choose, a right to culture and related
global rights (Harms, 2001, pp. 33-34).
This multi-layer
description also attempts to address the difference between freedoms and
responsibilities.
Above
all, the right to communicate should stress the equality of all partners
in the communication process; “it should incorporate [a] multi-cultural,
multi-way flow of information …” (Martelanc, 1983, p. 40). As a result,
the right to communicate carries with it the notion of both freedoms and
responsibilities.
Harms states
that the UDHR is predisposed to favour freedoms over responsibilities.
For example, Article 19 does not address the debate or conflict that
might arise from
the
right to freedom of opinion and expression. Harms argues that “[i]n a
society that is becoming more global, a new balance between freedom and
responsibilities appears necessary” (Harms, 2001, p. 34).
The right to communicate should help to create communities of people who
“exchange information relating to a commonly experienced world” (Pomorski,
2002, Right to communicate or right to inform?, ¶ 5). Globalization has
widened the context for community building and “[i]f the Right to
Communicate is to fulfill its constructive task, it should widen the
shared context in which information becomes understandable” (Pomorski,
2002, Right to communicate or right to inform?, ¶ 6).
Opposition to the right to communicate
The right to
communicate has always faced opposition. In 1974, UNESCO decided to
study the right to communicate. As Tomo Martelanc describes it: “the
response to [the right to communicate] was rather mixed” (Martelanc,
1983, p. 39). The right to communicate advocates a two-way process of
communication and, in the middle of the 1970s and the Cold War, a
two-way process of communication between states was almost unheard of.
In addition, the developing world saw the right to communicate as
another way for Western media conglomerates to further their market
share by expanding into the Third world. Moreover, the Western media
conglomerates saw the right to communicate as an attempt to frustrate
their expansion attempts. The debate of the Right became so intense that
both the United Kingdom and the United States of America withdrew from
UNESCO (Fisher, 2002; Birdsall et al., n/d; Pomorski, 2002).
This, in turn, lead to UNESCO abandoning the debate over the right to
communicate, or, as Desmond Fisher states: “The Right to Communicate
debate became a victim of Cold War politic” (Fisher, 2002, UNESCO
initiatives, ¶ 10).
Business interests are also opposed to the right to communicate because
they fear too much government intervention in their corporate affairs.
However, as McIver et al. point out, this opposition is not supported by
the realities facing civil society. They argue that there has been
increased “corporate dominance and concentration of ownership in the
media and telecommunications industries with the complicity of
governments over the past few decades” (McIver et al., 2003,
Opposition to a right to communicate, ¶ 2). As a result, the
opportunities that people have to communicate have been reduced. McIver
et al. also argue that “this trend has arguably reinforced the ability
of predominately Western producers of content to continue the one-way
information flow …” (McIver et al., 2003, Opposition to a right
to communicate, ¶ 2). This is exactly the situation that advocates for
the Right have been tying to avoid.
There has also been some opposition by the press. The press, as opposed
to the media conglomerates, is concerned that the right to communicate
will supersede the freedom of the press. Many press rights organizations
believe that Article 19 of the UDHR is actually enough to protect the
communication rights of people and that a separate right to communicate
is unnecessary. They argue that the right to communicate could
potentially lead to censorship of the press, because of the potential
conflicts and debates, which might arise as a result of the right to
communicate. McIver et al. argue that this complaint mirrors the
complaints of the business sector. The press, they argue, claim to be
unbiased and because of this the press believes that it is the only
group that truly has a right to communicate (McIver et al.,
2003).
National or international implementation?
The debate
over the right to communicate is not confined to the international
stage. Amongst scholars of the right to communicate there is some debate
as to whether or not the Right should be implemented on a national or
international stage. In Right to Communicate: Are Old Dilemmas Still
Valid? Jerzy M. Pomorski states that his original concern with the
right to communicate was the introduction of “a single global legal
principle which homogenously normalizes a very complicated sphere of
human relationships” (Pomorski, 2002, Introduction, ¶ 2). He foresaw
that either the law itself would be ignored or that human relationships
would suffer as a result of the right to communicate. However, Pomorski
believes that the world has gone through a significant change since the
right to communicate was first debated by UNESCO: “The major change was
the transfer of the location of information, communication’s important
partner, from politics to economy” (Pomorski, 2002, A new situation, ¶
1). In addition, according to Pomorski, there is currently even less
interstate conflict. By this he means that the division created by the
Cold War has not been replaced by another interstate division. He does
acknowledge terrorism, but he assumes that it does not divide countries
in the same way as the Cold War. Instead terrorism places the right to
communicate into new light:
The Islamic world of terror wants its argument heard
worldwide, whereas the world in opposition would like to restrict
the access to this information. … The problem whether destructive
messages, messages from ‘”criminals,” should be heard … is valid. As
a consequence, in the contemporary politics [of the right to
communicate] there reappears a state that excludes from this right:
criminals, anarchists, brawlers and the politically correct (Pomorski,
2002, A new situation, ¶ 4-5).
Because there is a
lack of interstate division Pomorski is confident that an international
consensus on the right to communicate is possible. However, terrorism,
both as a state of “criminals, anarchists, brawlers and the politically
correct” and its influence on existing countries is forcing states to
restrict the rights of its citizens. Therefore, Pomorski argues that the
right to communicate must be governed on an international level. By
placing the governance of the right to communicate in the hands of
International bodies, like the United Nations, the question of who owns
the context of understanding information is settled. Pomorski argues
that without international governance the opposition to the Right that
emerged in the 1970s from the developing world will once again be valid:
“… the problems of informational colonialism or cultural domination
return with double strength” (Pomorski, 2002, Right to communicate or
right to inform, ¶ 7).
One of the characteristics of solidarity rights is that they are very
slow to implement on an international stage because they seek an
international consensus. According to Hassan, solidarity rights require
a total reorientation of international relations. Specifically, this
reorientation should be a psychological rather than a political change.
Hassan states: “The framers of these rights looked beyond the varied
political orientations of states, and focused instead upon satisfying
the basic human needs of all peoples” (Hassan, 1983, p. 66). Both Hassan
and Pomorski believe that the increased economic dependence between
countries will ultimately help to usher forth consensus on solidarity
rights. Inexpensive technologies, Pomorski argues, will have a positive
effect on the future of the right to communicate:
I wrote before that only the rich can afford active
communicating. It was the time of mass-media domination, and the
costs of communication were high. Nowadays, thanks to the new media,
the issue of costs is not as painful. Today everybody can send off
messages and the economic issue boils down to the access to the
Internet (Pomorski, 2002, Economic dilemma, ¶ 1).
Unfortunately,
Pomorski does not attempt to tackle the issue of access to the Internet.
If the Internet has helped to make the right to communicate a viable
human right again, as Pomorski argues, then access to the Internet
should be an issue that advocates of the right to communicate are
addressing.
Birdsall et al. argue for a multi-faceted strategy towards the right to
communicate: “it hardly seems conceivable that there would be one best
strategy for achieving a [right to communicate] for all people” (Birdsall
et al., n/d, Policy paths, ¶ 5). However, as discussed above, all
previous attempts to formulate the Right on the international stage,
namely UNESCO, have failed. As a result, UNESCO stopped debating the
Right and funding research into the Right. In addition, Birdsall et al.
argue that international declarations must be, by their nature, general
or abstract because they are attempting to address the needs of all
human beings. Instead, they argue, rights must be formulated at the
national level so that they remain within “the context of the specific
political culture and structures of any given country” (Birdsall et
al., n/d, The right to communicate and politics, ¶ 3).
Canada has always had a positive relationship towards the right to
communicate. In 1968, Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau formed the
Department of Communications (DOC). The DOC recognized that the
technological innovations in satellite and computer technologies were
going to have significant impact and formed the Telecommission to
formulate public policy strategies to address the effects (Birdsall
et al., n/d). The Telecommission released a report in 1971, entitled
Instant World. The report is recognized as the first time any
government endorsed the right to communicate:
Impressed by [D’Arcy’s] 1969 paper, the Telecommission
emphatically stated, “The rights to hear and be heard, to inform and
to be informed, together may be regarded as the essential components
of a ‘right to communicate’” (Birdsall et al., n/d., Canada
and the right to communicate, ¶ 2).
Despite this
ringing endorsement, policy makers did not move ahead in translating the
Right into public policy. According to Birdsall et al., “the concept did
not appear in any subsequent policy white papers and reports of
subsequent advisory bodies” (Birdsall et al., n/d/, Canada and the right
to communicate, ¶ 3). The government of Canada did, however, continue to
acknowledge the ever increasing impact that information communication
technologies (ICT) were having on society. Birdsall and Rasmussen claim
that the Canadian government’s support of ICTs is simple:
Information technology is the primary cause of change and
this change is inevitable. Information technology is transforming
our industrial society into an information society. Information is
the raw material of a knowledge-based economy. The extensive use of
information technology will result in dramatic increases in
productivity and wealth. In the knowledge-based economy the market
alone should determine what goods and service will be provided, what
they will cost, and how they will be distributed (Birdsall &
Rasmussen, 2000, Ideology of information technology, ¶ 1).
Canada, therefore,
only supported ICTs because it believed that ultimately they would help
to increase the productivity and wealth of the country. This, Birdsall
and Rasmussen believe, is why the Canadian government supported the
Information Highway Advisory Council’s (IHAC) initiative for universal
Internet access. Although Birdsall and Rasmussen recognize that IHAC’s
initiative would help to stop the divide between the information “haves”
and “have nots,” they also believe that:
These programs elicit the aid of public cultural and
educational institutions in an access strategy aimed at attracting
consumers to the information highway. The private sector builders of
the information highway, supported by the national government, will
serve the “haves;” local libraries, schools, and community centers,
subjects to continual budget constraints at the local level, are
left to serve the “have nots” (Birdsall and Rasmussen, 2000, Access
to the information highway, ¶ 2).
What Birdsall and
Rasmussen object to the most is the lack of public consultation around
information and communication policy development. In the case of
Internet access, the government supported business in attracting
consumers to the information highway by supporting programs like
SchoolNet, LibraryNet, and the Community Access Program (CAP) then,
without public consultation, dropped funding to these programs making
these new Internet consumers go to the only place they could for
service: the private sector (Birdsall and Rasmussen, 2000).
Policy development
Why did
these previous attempts at policy development for the right to
communicate fail? Birdsall et al., argue that all previous attempts at
turning the Right into policy failed because “the policy process was
carried out in a narrow world of academic and policy experts” (Birdsall
et al., n/d, Canada and the right to communicate, ¶ 4). This
meant that there was no widespread political support for the Right to
carry it forward; “the right was dealt with as an abstraction
disconnected from the real world of politics, with politics ‘on the
ground’ so to speak” (Birdsall et al., n/d, Canada and the right
to communicate, ¶ 5). How can policy makers include the general public
in the policy process?
Birdsall and Rasmussen argue that the first step to involving people in
the process of policy development for the right to communicate is not
defining the Right without the input of people: “We refrain from
proposing a specific formulation of [the Right] because one of its
central components should be a commitment to involving people in
decision-making processes” (Birdsall & Rasmussen, 2000, Elements of a
right to communicate, ¶ 1). On a world stage there has been increased
participation in policy development by non-governmental organizations
(NGO), who claim to represent civil society or the general public.
However, Birdsall and Rasmussen argue that there is some question as to
whether or not NGOs actually represent civil society:
Public interest advocates themselves can become
incorporated into policy elites and operate in an enclosed world of
their own, divorced from those they claim to represent. Indeed,
governments have become sophisticated in their ability to foster and
manipulate such groups thereby giving the impression the policy
process is open and inclusive while in reality it is too often
confined to a small policy elite co-opted by government (Birdsall &
Rasmussen, 2000, Non-governmental organizations, ¶ 3).
This is, in part,
why Birdsall and Rasmussen argue that the right to communicate should be
implemented on a national level, where it is easier for the public to
have their voices heard. Using Canada as a case study, Birdsall and
Rasmussen and Birdsall et al. argue that there are four ways to
implement the Right in Canada: Constitutional amendment, legislative
charter, judicial interpretation, and consensus conference.
Constitutional Amendment
Birdsall and Rasmussen argue that “the most significant advantage of
the [Constitutional] amendment process is that it inevitably generates
public discussion and debate” (Birdsall & Rasmussen, 2000, Charter
amendment, ¶ 2). They argue that even if the amendment “fails” (like the
Meech Lake Accord) the public still “wins” for, at the very least,
public debate over the Right will occur. Birdsall et al. argue that the
only “drawback of this strategy is that any effort to amend the
[Canadian] Charter [of Rights and Freedoms] is likely to draw into the
process efforts to add other amendments and make political tradeoffs to
settle longstanding grievances of the various regions of the country” (Birdsall
et al., n/d, Constitutional amendment, ¶ 1).
Legislative Charter
Birdsall
et al. suggest a legislative charter, such as a right to communicate
charter, as a way to enact the right to communicate, because the process
of Constitutional amendment might take too long and involve too many
tradeoffs. The legislative charter would have to make its way through
Parliament. Although this process might be faster than a Constitutional
amendment, previous attempts, like a legislative charter for privacy
issues, have gone nowhere (Birdsall et al. n/d).
Judicial Interpretation
Canadian
courts have been known to take a purposive approach to the Charter of
Rights and Freedoms, meaning that the courts are likely to interpret the
language in the Charter in a positive way. “Consequently, ‘it is
possible to understand a [right to communicate] to be already embedded
in the Canadian Constitution, even though those words are not themselves
explicitly used’” (Birdsall et al., n/d, Judicial interpretation,
¶ 1). Judges base their interpretations on the information available to
them on the issues at hand. As a result, Birdsall and Rasmussen argue
that “[w]e can assist judges in forming their opinions about a [right to
communicate] by discussing it in various public fora such as academic
conferences and research, consensus conferences, and debates about
constitutional amendment” (Birdsall & Rasmussen, 2000, Judicial
interpretation, ¶ 2).
Consensus Conference
Perhaps the most interesting suggestion offered by Birdsall and
Rasmussen is the consensus conference:
When a particular issue is identified a steering committee
is established to direct the process. A citizens' panel of fifteen
or so people from the general public is formed. Using trained
facilitators, this panel attends background sessions, hears
testimony by experts, industry representatives, and public interest
advocates, and cross-examines these experts. Finally, the panel
prepares a concise report reached through consensus. This report is
given wide distribution and a high media profile (Birdsall &
Rasmussen, 2000, Consensus conferences, ¶ 2).
This
process allows citizens to participate directly in the policy process as
well as including traditional stakeholders, such as experts, industry
representatives, special interest advocates, and the government.
Future policy paths
As
Birdsall and Rasmussen and Birdsall et al. clearly established, there
are a number of ways Canada could implement a right to communicate on a
national level. However, in order for any change to happen there has to
be some political will behind the right to communicate. UNESCO provides
a perfect example of what happens when the political will for an idea or
right dies off: the debate over, and the funding for, the topic ceases.
Rebuilding political will is perhaps the first thing advocates of the
right to communicate have to do. This can be done in many ways. Birdsall
and Rasmussen suggested that judges be influenced by discussing the
Right in public fora such as academic conferences and debates over
constitutional amendments. However, this might potentially return the
policy process back to an academic and expert-centered process. The very
process that Birdsall et al. (N/D) claimed ended the original attempts
at policy development for UNESCO and Canada. Instead, advocates should
focus their attention on the general public at both the national and
international levels. The current fight against world hunger, poverty
and AIDS could be used as an example. The original campaign started in
1985 with the Live Aid concert. In an effort to keep the issues of
hunger, poverty, and AIDS in the minds of the public a group of 400
charities and advocacy groups came together in 2005 to create Make
Poverty History. Their intention was to place pressure on the G8
throughout 2005 to end poverty in Africa (Westcott, 2005). Their actions
drew the public’s attention with a series of five simultaneously
broadcast pop concerts held on July 2, 2005. Advocates for the right to
communicate do not have to stage an event of this grandeur to catch the
public’s attention. Perhaps, they could start by creating local
awareness groups. The issues that the right to communicate addresses -
privacy, information rights, and freedom of speech, to name a few - are
issues that affect the lives of all people. Local awareness groups
should help advocates to lobby local librarians and other information
and communication professionals for their support. Advocates should
approach already established groups of activist librarians, such as The
Progressive Librarians Guild and Information Professionals for Social
Justice. Many library associations have round tables on the social
responsibilities of libraries. The American Library Association, for
example, has a Social Responsibility Round Table that includes an
Information Policy in the Public Interest (IPPI) Task Force. According
to the IPPI’s website:
[The IPPI] will provide a working group for progressive
activists and analysts engaging issues, affecting or potentially
affecting libraries, arising from national and international
policy-making processes and organizations which, at an increasingly
global level, seek to define, develop, and regulate the many
elements of the overall information environment, its flows and
functions. The IPPI Task Force invites librarians with a
social-responsibilities perspective … to work together to establish
progressive priorities in the library world with regard to
information policy issues (Information Policy in the Public Interest
Task Force, 2001, ¶ 1).
Advocates for the
right to communicate should engage such groups in the policy debate;
there is clearly an audience in librarians. One of the core values of
the library profession is the support of democracy through an informed
citizenry (American Library Association, 2005). Using this as a base,
right to communicate advocates could easily convince librarians that
communication, as well as information, is essential in a healthy
democracy. Advocates could then lobby local governments and national
governments. Slowly, local action could have an impact on not only
national policy but international policy. A real-world example of this
is Greenpeace and its fight for environmental rights. Greenpeace started
as a small NGO in Vancouver in 1970. Through direct confrontation, or,
as Greenpeace terms it, “bearing witness,” Greenpeace was able to
attract the world’s attention to the issues of environmentalism.
Although direct confrontation is not the best strategy for right to
communicate advocates, the advocates should take a closer look at both
the Make Poverty History campaign and Greenpeace to see what they are
doing “right.”
Right to communicate advocates might also want to change the definition
of universal access. Currently, it is defined as “plain old telephone
service” (POTS). In other words, rural areas have the same basic
telephone service, at a comparable price, as urban areas. The idea is
that POTS helps to hold communities together by allowing equal access to
emergency 911 and operator-assisted services. Right to communicate
advocates should fight to have the definition changed to include the
Internet. Birdsall and Rasmussen’s disappointment in Canada’s attempts
at universal Internet access should not discourage advocates from
changing the definition of universal access. Advocates should encourage
continued government funding for such ambitious projects as CAP and
LibraryNet.
Lastly, advocates for the right to communicate should continue to push
the government to include the general public in the policy process
whether through consensus conferences or Constitutional amendments. If
the right to communicate is to be implemented then the full
participation of the public in the policy process is necessary.
Conclusion
The
development of policy that uses the right to communicate as its basis
has been difficult. Two attempts have been made: one at the
international level by UNESCO and one at the national level by Canada.
Unfortunately, both attempts failed due to lack of political will and
public participation. right to communicate advocates have an uphill
battle before them if the Right is ever going to be officially
recognized as a universal human right and be implemented as a policy.
Advocates must take the lead of other successful rights groups and
attract the public’s attention to the issues surrounding information and
communication. The right to communicate offers a framework that will
help the world create global communities and expand the contexts for
understanding information. The two-way process of communication it
promotes will help to foster understanding between diverse peoples and
cultures while supporting their rights to cultural determination and
privacy.
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American Library
Association, 2005. “Core Values Statement,” at
http://www.ala.org/ala/oif/statementspols/corevaluesstatement/corevalues.htm#democracy,
accessed March 29, 2006.
Birdsall, W.F.,
McIver, W.J., & Rasmussen, M., N/D. “Translating a Right to Communicate
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