No. 2, 2002
Internet Cafes:
Connectivity for the Masses?
by Roberto Verzola
Access to the Internet typically requires, at a minimum, a computer
with the right software, a modem, a telephone line, and a subscription
to an Internet service provider (ISP). In the Philippines, the computer
and modem would cost some P25,000 (US$500); phone and ISP subscription
combined would require around P1, 000 (US$20) or more per month. This
is definitely beyond the reach of most poor families, though perhaps
within reach of the middle class, if they were willing to drop other
daily expenses. At these costs, the Internet would definitely remain
an enclave of the rich.
To make the Internet
more accessible to the ordinary citizen, the idea of telecentres, more
popularly known as Internet cafes (though very few actually serve coffee),
was born. The Internet cafe would take care of the hardware and connectivity
requirements and a user needed only to pay a per-minute charge for access
to the Internet. Typically, in the Philippines, this would range from
P20 to P60 (US$0.40 to $1.20) per hour, or a minimum of P15 (US$0.30)
for a half-hour session. Although still expensive for the typical poor
who might be earning under P100 to around P500 each day (US$2 to $5),
Internet cafes made the Internet somewhat more accessible to the middle
class and some of the poor who might need it badly for a specific purpose.
In theory, the competition
among telecentres would bring the cost of access still further down
until the Internet became truly accessible to the masses. I decided
to check this out.
I was not a typical
poor. For eight years, from 1992 to 2000, I had operated a small Internet
service myself through a three-person outfit called Email Center, which
offered E-mail access to the Internet, mostly to non-government organisations
(NGOs), non-profit foundations, cause- and issue-oriented groups, church
and other civil society groups and activists. I knew very well the advantages
not only of my own Internet account accessed from the home but of a
24-hour connection to the Internet where one did not have to worry about
per-minute charges.
From 24-hour
Connection to I-cafes
In 2000, I closed down Email Center. Instead of getting a personal subscription
with an ISP, I decided to try the approach that was supposed to bring
the Internet to the masses and do most of my Internet access via Internet
cafes. I opened an electronic mailbox (free) with a popular provider
called Yahoo, surveyed my neighbourhood for Internet cafes (there was
only one when I started; there are around eight now), and announced
to my friends and colleagues my new Internet address. On the average,
I accessed my mailbox two to four times a week.
The first thing
I noticed was that most of the so-called neighbourhood Internet cafes
were mainly game centres, where majority of the computers were not Internet-connected
but dedicated to running games. I found out later, as I checked out
other Internet cafes whenever I travelled around the country, that this
was true, with only a few exceptions, for most other areas. In many
cafes, the computers were often segregated; one side (or one room, in
the larger cafes) dedicated to computers running games and another side
(or room, usually the smaller one) for Internet-connected computers.
I would estimate
that on any one day, 1/2 to 2/3 of the computers in use would actually
be devoted to games (very violent and gory ones, at that). The remaining
active ones would be split roughly evenly between online chat, word
processing/printing, and browsing/E-mail, with a few somewhat more engaged
in chatting.
I-cafes: Centres
of Youth Addiction
In fact, I soon realised that Internet cafes were not simply game centres.
They were becoming centres of addiction among the youth, including elementary
school pupils. I even started recognising regulars in the cafe I frequented.
They were youths of elementary or high school age but I’d see them at
various times of the day, including school hours as well as late evenings,
even near midnight at times.
They were mostly
boys. In fact, I could not remember seeing a girl at all in that typical
game player position then becoming such a familiar sight to me: hunched
in front of the machine, staring glassy eyed at the screen, with most
movement concentrated on the wrist, the fingers twitching frantically
against the mouse or keyboard. The gamers were in a fantasy world of
their own, engaged in shoot-outs and sword fights with imaginary enemies
or with other game players, and totally oblivious of the din and activity
around them. In many centres, the rooms were filled with tobacco smoke.
I particularly remember
two tragic victims of this new form of addiction because I knew them
personally.
One was a first
year high school student. Once introduced to the vice, he became a regular
in the cafe I often used. Whenever I saw him, he was engaged in a game
or watching others play. He would sometimes acknowledge my greeting
with a slight nod, without taking his eyes off the screen. After nearly
a year, he dropped out from the scene and I didn’t see him again. I
learned later that he had become so good at the game that the cafe operators
gave him a lot of free time to keep him playing and attract other players
to their cafe. By this time, he had stopped attending classes and became
a full-time addict. Eventually, however, his parents found out.
Another victim was
an elementary school pupil, living with relatives who sent him to school.
He probably learned the game when richer friends taught him or treated
him a few times. Hooked, he started spending his food allowance to support
his addiction. The money was not enough, so he started missing classes
to use his transportation allowance too. Still, it was not enough, so
he began stealing money at home. But the small amounts did not satiate
his addiction. He was, by then, getting reminders and warnings from
his concerned and suspicious housemates. One day, he took two thousand
pesos (US$40) from an unattended bag. Eventually, he was found out and
was sent back to his family in the province.
Tricks of Seduction
Internet cafes use various means to draw in gamers. Some offer lower
rates during periods when their machines are under-utilised, usually
during office (and school) hours or after midnight. Others offer bonus
hours, like a quarter of an hour for every hour paid, consumable only
after accumulating a full hour. To young people supporting their vice
with a limited allowance, every peso matters and they take advantage
of every offer.
As they acquire
skills not only in playing games but also in operating computers, they
also try to make themselves useful to the cafe operators, in exchange
for more free time. As ace gamers, they attract players in search of
competition. As computer operators, they take a big load off the work
of the paid technicians. I have seen youngsters of high school age work
eight full hours as assistants to cafe technicians and clerks. Cheap,
high-tech child-labour, part-time work in exchange for free computer
time. Some of them work past midnight for their gaming fix.
What kind of games
do they play? Most games are shoot-’em-ups: one walks through a maze
and blasts every creature that crosses one’s path; or one commands an
army and deploys it to annihilate an opposing army. The scenes are gory:
cut limbs, chopped-off heads, and mangled bodies. To the young, however,
play is reality and reality, play. Mature minds may be able to distinguish
which is which, but young minds often can’t.
Right under our
very noses, Internet cafes are seducing youths to a new form of addiction,
one that may not destroy their bodies as drugs do, but is certainly
distorting their minds.
Unfortunately, students
today are virtually forced by their teachers to use computers and the
Internet. In many schools, essays and term papers are not accepted anymore
unless they are printed out. Forget about handwritten or even typewritten
submissions. Library sources are not enough. One must include URL sources.
So, those without a computer, telephone or Internet subscription at
home have to go to Internet cafes. There, they meet the high-tech addicts,
and are lured to the addiction themselves.
Sadly, all this
is happening while parents and teachers blissfully think they are securing
the children’s future through exposure to computers and the Internet.
E-mailing in
I-cafes
What about my own usage? Were the I-cafes useful to me?
I indulged in no
chats and played no games. I mostly did my E-mail and some occasional
browsing. Two or three times, I printed out something.
But it was not the
same.
E-mailing via Internet
cafes tends to be expensive and inconvenient, because one is doing most
things online, while the clock is ticking and every minute has to be
paid for. Downloading messages is slow, because the connection is not
only between the console and the local ISP, but between the console
and the Yahoo server somewhere in the U.S. Reading the messages is even
slower. Writing replies takes even more time, if one wants to compose
carefully the contents of an outgoing message. My friends and colleagues
must have noticed a drop in the quality—and quantity—of my correspondence
in 2001; throughout that year (as well as the last two months of 2000
and the first three of 2002), I relied mainly on Internet cafes for
my E-mail access. My messages were brief, hurried, and poorly composed.
The truly important
messages, I would save to a diskette that I took back home for further
reading. Then I would compose a reply on my home computer, save it to
the diskette, and then upload the outgoing message on my next visit
to the cafe. On some occasions, I forgot to bring the diskette with
me, or the diskette itself became unreadable, resulting in delayed or
lost messages, either incoming or outgoing.
Browsing with
Notebooks and Diskettes
I had to keep a notebook of keywords and sites I wanted to search on
the Web, because I often could not recall all that I wanted to look
for when I was already seated in front of the console. Sometimes, I
forgot to jot things down on my notebook, or I forgot to bring the notebook
itself, and so would miss some of the things I wanted. Then, I had to
save the search results to a diskette again, so I can study them more
carefully when I came home. Sometimes, the diskette was damaged along
the way, or my disk drive was not quite aligned the same way as the
cafe’s drive, and I lost my work.
Three or four times
that year, when I needed to really do a lot of emailing and browsing,
I cheated. I biked to a friendly office (the women’s NGO, Isis International)
that had a 24-hour connection that I could freely use, and had my Internet
fix from there.
There is no comparison
between access via a dedicated line and access through I-cafes.
I have experienced
the whole range of connectivity from a dedicated line to I-cafes. And
it is clear that a hierarchy of inequality, not so different from wealth
inequalities elsewhere, also exists in the digital world.
The Divide in
a Digital World
At the bottom of the hierarchy are the I-cafe users. They are the least
privileged, extremely time-conscious due to high costs, and unable to
use the Internet to its fullest because of the constraints. They are
on the periphery, just barely on the Internet.
To get to the next
rung, one must cross a huge gap, one beyond the reach of most poor:
acquire a computer, modem, and a telephone line, and get a subscription
to a local ISP, paying either regular monthly charges or through pre-paid
cards. This buys one the benefit of offline reading and writing of messages,
and therefore a huge leap in one’s quality of correspondence. Browsing
remains an expensive option, and one does this only when the data is
badly needed, like the middle class who take a taxi only when terribly
late for a very important appointment or in a medical emergency.
A rung higher would
be users who set up their own Web sites on a local ISP or on servers
like Geocities, maintained through their local ISP connection.
In the privileged
stratum are those users with access to a dedicated connection that don’t
have to worry about per-minute costs. With their cost of communication
and access approaching zero, they are the most competitive in the digital
world.
But this stratum
has a hierarchy of its own:
At the bottom of
the hierarchy are those who are paying for “unlimited access,” available
in the Philippines for around P1,500 (US$30) per month, but must still
dial their local ISP for a connection.
Next are those whose
cable TV provider also offers an Internet connection, at a fixed monthly
cost of around P2,500 (US$50). As soon as these cable Internet users
turn their computer on, they are connected, usually at speeds that exceed
the 56 kilobits/second that is the maximum, though rarely attained,
over phone connections.
Then there are the
dedicated connections, usually for servers that have their own Internet
Protocol (IP) address, at a monthly cost of around P8, 000 (US$160)
upwards. With a server with its own IP address, then one is truly on
the Internet, theoretically on equal footing with every other server.
A Familiar World
of Hierarchy
But even Internet servers have their own hierarchy, which is not only
based on the speed of connection to the Net, but also on the underlying
topology of network connections. Today, and presumably for a long, long
time to come, the U.S. lies at the centre of these connections, followed
by Europe. They are at the highest level of the Internet hierarchy.
U.S. and European ISPs dictate their prices and conditions to ISPs of
other countries that want to connect to them. In fact, Philippine ISPs
that connect to the U.S. or Europe often have to shoulder the full cost
of the connection, even if that connection is mutually beneficial to
both sides.
Those who want to
cross the so-called digital divide will be asked to spend much of their
hard-earned money only to find greater chasms confronting them. While
they may marvel upon entry into this privileged world, they will find
that, due to their higher costs, they are the least competitive among
the privileged.
The poor may indeed
cross the digital divide through Internet cafes. But they will be confronted
with other divides that charge higher and higher fees to be crossed.
Along the way, they will find themselves in a familiar world of hierarchy,
escapism and addiction that keeps them at the bottom of the heap.
Roberto
Verzola is the secretary-general of the Philippine Greens. An engineer
by training, he has worked for more than a decade with Philippine and
also Asian NGOs on ICT issues. His current areas of interest include
genetic engineering, agriculture and environment issues.
Also
in this Issue:
Get
in and Get in Early:Ensuring women’s access to and participation in
ICT projects
Moulding
ICT to Their Needs:Kerala’s Women Overcome Their Misgivings
Women Connect! Case study of an alternative
communication model
ICT Applications in Latin America: From Information
to Knowledge Building
Internet Cafes: Connectivity for the Masses?
Girls with Digital Diaries: Empowerment Issues
Telecentres for Universal Access: Engendered
Policy Options
Gender Issues in Information Technology Communication
The Right to Communicate: New Challenges for
the Women’s Movement
The World Summit on the Information Society and the
Women's Agenda
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