The internet this evening informed me of the suicide of one of it’s greatest leaders: Aaron Swartz.
I was first alerted by Upworty.com, who I follow on Facebook and on Twitter. Their Facebook message said this: “Everyone who works on or uses the Internet owes a lot to Aaron Swartz. Today was his funeral. His eloquence and relentless defense of free speech will be missed.”
I followed the trail of links and ended up watching Aaron’s passionate speech describing his part in the internet’s great fight against the SOPA/PIPA acts. (You can and should watch it below). While I was aware of the SOPA/PIPA bills and saw things on the internet about it, I didn’t get involved. I was one of those people who said that it wasn’t my problem.
Well Aaron Swartz made it his problem. At the end of his video he says, “If we let Hollywood rewrite the story so that it’s just big company Google who stopped the bill, if we let them persuade us we didn’t actually make a difference and we start seeing it as someone else’s responsibility to do this work and it’s our job just to go home and pop some popcorn and curl up on the couch and watch Transformers, well then next time they might just win. Let’s not let that happen.”
I’m sure that multitudes of people across the internet are writing about Aaron Swartz and his many daring fights. He was the epitome of an unsatisfied, passionate young man who was trying to change the world. His latest exploit was to download 4 million articles from JSTOR and distribute them for free. The government decided to make an example out of him and he faced up to 35 years in jail or a one million dollars worth of fines.
My awareness about the ongoing battle between the government and the internet is limited, although Aaron has inspired me to make it less limited. But what really struck me, what made me decide to write about a man I never met and hadn’t heard of until today, this obituary written by his friend Cory. Particularly, this excerpt:
“I don’t know for sure whether Aaron understood that any of us, any of his friends, would have taken a call from him at any hour of the day or night. I don’t know if he understood that wherever he was, there were people who cared about him, who admired him, who would get on a plane or a bus or on a video-call and talk to him.
Because whatever problems Aaron was facing, killing himself didn’t solve them. Whatever problems Aaron was facing, they will go unsolved forever. If he was lonely, he will never again be embraced by his friends. If he was despairing of the fight, he will never again rally his comrades with brilliant strategies and leadership. If he was sorrowing, he will never again be lifted from it.”
Like many people, I’ve had my bouts with depression. Personally, most of it comes from loneliness. I vividly remember a night in 7th grade when I was having what I now realize was probably a panic attack. I was in the little blue chair I got when I was a child and was calling every close friend and family member who might actually pick up. It was around 2:00 in the morning when I finally looked down at my phone and realized there was no one else I could call.
I have never felt so utterly alone.
That night I made a promise to myself. That my phone would be on and next to my bed every night. That I would pick up no matter what, just in case. That every person I spoke to, no matter who, would know that they could call me and that I would answer.
There have only been a few times where people have actually taken advantage of this promise, but it still stands. In a time where moving happens so easily, where friends are spread across the country and across the world, it is especially important to protect and provide what Aaron Swartz called “the freedom to connect.” As his friend Cory wrote, if only Aaron had known, perhaps his brilliant passion would still be changing the world today.
A memorial site has been set up so that Aaron’s passion can still spread, despite the fact that he is no longer here to spread it himself.