The House of Representatives’ bipartisan passage of an act that would ban TikTok unless its Chinese owner ByteDance sells the company within six months is another testament to the power of invoking the word China to get American legislation passed.
The Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act follows years-long suspicions about the app, popularized by Donald Trump’s 2020 attempt to ban it. These suspicions have been fueled nearly entirely by TikTok’s Chinese ownership, which may in practice be one of its least troubling characteristics — that is, if it is being assessed on the basis of American users’ rights and protections.
Fears that data from TikTok’s users could be accessible by Chinese state and corporate actors were supposed to be addressed through Project Texas, an expensive initiative the company devised of its own accord — in concert with a U.S. agency (the Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States) and a U.S. company (Oracle). If the de facto TikTok ban advances through the Senate, those efforts would have been for naught, which is notable if not surprising. No amount of tweaking or burdensome compliance will comfort a Congress alarmed by a single enduring factor: Chinese ownership.
Worries that the Chinese government will seize control over the app’s contents to push a strategically timed misinformation campaign targeting Americans remain hypothetical. And if malign Chinese actors or hackers wanted to influence U.S. public opinion, their inability to control TikTok presumably wouldn’t stop them. They could always take the simpler route and target users via American social media companies. Congress has not so far banned any Russian app, yet Russia seems perfectly capable of launching social media campaigns (and other interventions) that have demonstrably affected our elections.
The most legitimate concerns about TikTok have to do with side effects of excessive social media use — such as waning focus and exacerbation of mental health issues — and more comprehensive data security gaps that should include how both domestic and foreign actors can legally obtain American user data. That last basket of worries has two primary characteristics: 1. its reach extends to apps other than TikTok, including its U.S.-owned and operated competitors, and 2. it is solvable through legislation, presumably legislation much more comprehensive than the Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act.
China — or any foreign country — should not be exempt from the United States’ laws concerning social media and digital privacy. But first, the U.S. needs to enact such legislation. When and if it does, such laws should also deal with TikTok’s competitors — firms Congress has already shown it is also displeased with, evidenced by a recent hearing featuring TikTok as well as Meta, Snapchat, Discord and Twitter.
Since Congress and many American parents are rightfully concerned about minors’ inappropriate, excessive, and harm-inducing social media use, perhaps a better use of their time would be working to pass the Protecting Kids on Social Media Act, which was introduced nearly a year ago and remains in committee. In addition to other curbs such as strengthened age verification, that bill would prohibit the use of algorithmic recommendation systems on teens under 18.
It is hard to overstate how severely that prohibition would disrupt the business model of popular social media apps, TikTok and Meta foremost among them, which rely on user data mining to craft the most reliance-inducing feeds possible. It would effectively end the eerily personalized, rabbit hole-esque feeds young people are becoming so accustomed — and addicted — to.
The best-case scenario might even be that adults, seeing the liberation from algorithmic recommendations enjoyed (albeit likely begrudgingly) by the youth, demand that lawmakers relieve them, too, of the tyranny of overly customized content. Even the adults who don’t have their own social accounts often have to cater to them to make a living in our increasingly social media-dependent economy. (Joe Biden’s statement that he would sign the forced divestment Act while posting TikToks targeted at young voters amounts to the political version of submitting to the algorithm.)
If this saga indeed ends with the U.S. effectively banning TikTok, it will amount to another instance where genuine user protections are sidelined in favor of poorly defined and seemingly not addressable national security concerns. It is reminiscent of the Biden administration’s probe into Chinese-made connected cars, which was also initiated on the basis of national security concerns.
Again, it’s not that Chinese cars shouldn’t be subject to data security reviews; it’s that all connected cars should and, more to the point, the U.S. should have regulations in place that all car companies are required to follow. Red, white, and blue companies like General Motors have reportedly been selling American drivers’ data without their knowledge, a practice that has both invaded personal privacy and resulted in increased insurance premiums.
Meta, like General Motors, shouldn’t be able to treat and take from users however it wants, just because it’s an American company. In continuing to isolate Chinese companies on the basis of data security without taking legislative action to secure American data, lawmakers are sending the rather direct message that they are interested in protecting Americans from Chinese companies but not U.S. firms.
If eliminating TikTok from American society would plausibly result in piecemeal progress toward necessary data protections, it would arguably be worth harnessing the power of anti-China sentiment to get it banned. But the path carved out by Congress’ de facto ban is more likely to lead to additional national security-inspired reviews targeting China than legislation we need to protect Americans from malevolent digital businesses, no matter their country of origin.
