784770

research-article20182018
SMSXXX10.1177/2056305118784770Social Media <span class="symbol" cstyle="Mathematical">+</span> SocietyObar and Oeldorf-Hirsch

SI: Social Media for Social Good or Evil

Social Media + Society

The Clickwrap: A Political Economic

July-September 2018: 1­–14
© The Author(s) 2018
Reprints and permissions:
Mechanism for Manufacturing Consent on sagepub.co.uk/journalsPermissions.nav
DOI: 10.1177/2056305118784770
https://doi.org/10.1177/2056305118784770

Social Media journals.sagepub.com/home/sms

Jonathan A. Obar1 and Anne Oeldorf-Hirsch2

Abstract
The clickwrap is a digital prompt that facilitates consent processes by affording users the opportunity to quickly accept or
reject digital media policies. A qualitative survey analysis was conducted (N = 513), assessing user interactions with the consent
materials of a fictitious social media service, NameDrop. Findings suggest that clickwraps serve a political economic function
by facilitating the circumvention of consent materials. Herman and Chomsky’s notion of the “buying mood” guides the
analysis to analogize how social media maintain flow to monetized sections of services while diverting attention from policies
that might encourage dissent. Clickwraps accomplish this through an agenda-setting function whereby prompts encouraging
circumvention are made more prominent than policy links. Results emphasize that clickwraps discourage engagement with
privacy and reputation protections by suggesting that consent materials are unimportant, contributing to the normalization
of this circumvention. The assertion that clickwraps serve a political economic function suggests that capitalist methods of
production are successfully being integrated into social media services and have the ability to manufacture consent.

Keywords
privacy, political economy, social media, clickwrap, consent

That the manufacture of consent is capable of great facilitates consent processes by affording users the opportu-
refinements no one, I think, denies. [. . . ] the opportunities nity to quickly accept or reject digital media policies. While
for manipulation open to anyone who understands clickwraps may indeed facilitate consent processes, they
the process are plain enough. also help circumvent consent materials. They direct users
– Walter Lippmann, 1922/1977, Public Opinion away from policies that might encourage dissent and ensure
users stay in fast lanes to monetized sections of services.
(If) the powerful are able to fix the premises of discourse This suggests clickwraps keep users in what might be analo-
[. . . ] the standard view of how the system works is at gized to Herman and Chomsky’s (1988) “buying mood” (p.
serious odds with reality. 17), “fix(ing) the premises of discourse” (p. xi) and ensuring
the “manufacture of consent” (Lippmann, 1922/1977, p.
– Edward S. Herman and Noam Chomsky, 1988, Manufacturing
158). In doing so, clickwraps reveal a political economic
Consent
function—discouraging and even thwarting the critical
inquiry central to notice and choice privacy frameworks
“I agree to the terms and conditions” is referred to anecdot-
while concurrently, and in the social media context espe-
ally as “The Biggest Lie on the Internet” (Obar & Oeldorf-
cially,1 “channeling and structuring online activity to suit
Hirsch, 2018). Whether the extent of the lie is to the degree
the needs of business models” (Cohen, 2008, p. 17).
the anecdote suggests, consent failures, specifically the
efforts and mechanisms to blame for these failures, along
with the implications, are increasingly coming into view 1
York University, Canada
(Cate, 2006; Madden, Gilman, Levy, & Marwick, 2017; 2
University of Connecticut, USA
Nissenbaum, 2011; Obar, 2015; Obar & Oeldorf-Hirsch,
Corresponding Author:
2017; Reidenberg, Russell, Callen, Qasir, & Norton, 2015b; Jonathan A. Obar, York University, DB 3015, 4700 Keele Street, Toronto,
Solove, 2012). The clickwrap is one such mechanism to Ontario M3J 1P3, Canada.
blame (see Figure 1). The clickwrap is a digital prompt that Email: jaobar@yorku.ca

Creative Commons Non Commercial CC BY-NC: This article is distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial 4.0 License (http://www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/) which permits non-commercial use, reproduction
and distribution of the work without further permission provided the original work is attributed as specified on the SAGE and Open Access pages
(https://us.sagepub.com/en-us/nam/open-access-at-sage).
2 Social Media + Society
Figure 1. Facebook quick-join clickwrap (left); close-up of the clickwrap (right).
Consent is fundamental to legal approaches to privacy
online (Federal Trade Commission [FTC], 1998). Across inter-
national contexts (i.e., United States, Canada, the European
Union [EU], and elsewhere) where privacy laws are designed
based on Fair Information Practice Principles (FIPPs), lawful
data management practices are defined, in most cases, as those
to which users have consented. This generally involves data
management practices associated with data collection, organi-
zation, use, retention, and disclosure. There are exceptions
unique to extreme legal scenarios, such as disclosure practices
involving law enforcement, but for the most part, consent is a
“cornerstone” of privacy law modeled on the FIPPs (see Office
of the Privacy Commissioner of Canada [OPC], 2016). What
complicates this reality is the extent to which users are able to
provide consent and the forms of consent delivered.
The highest standard of consent is informed consent,
which refers to “an autonomous authorization” by the indi-
vidual (Faden & Beauchamp, 1986). In its purest form, this
theoretical ideal suggests that individuals are knowledgeable
about all aspects of that to which they are consenting—a
thorough form of self-governance. Visualizing a consent
spectrum with informed consent at the normative end,
implied consent might exist on the spectrum, but at some
distance from the theoretical ideal. Implied consent refers to
an assumed form of consent where direct acknowledgment is
not given. For example, the act of using a social media ser-
vice where terms of service (TOS) are available via a link
provided in an app or on a website would be considered pro-
viding a form of implied consent, even without accessing,
reading, or explicitly agreeing to the policies.
Assessments of digital media consent processes have
typically addressed the methods employed for providing
users information about data management. The legal ter-
minology describing these processes is “notice.” Indeed,
notice has traditionally been viewed as fundamental to
delivering privacy and reputation protections (FTC, 1998).
As the FTC once noted,
Consumers should be given notice of an entity’s information
practices before any personal information is collected from them.
Without notice, a consumer cannot make an informed decision as to
whether and to what extent to disclose personal information. (p. 7)
Assessments in this space have generally addressed rela-
tionships between users and the policies themselves.
Referring to scenarios where informed consent is attempted
through the presentation of TOS and privacy policies via a
digital service, some scholars suggest the length and abun-
dance of policies creates considerable consent challenges
(McDonald & Cranor, 2008). Others raise concerns associ-
ated with achieving within- and across-group understanding
of policy language (Reidenberg et al., 2015a). More recent
research suggests that challenges are linked to user resigna-
tion (Turow, Hennessy, & Draper, 2015) and even the belief
that it is “a cultural norm not to read (policies)” (Obar &
Oeldorf-Hirsch, 2018, p. 15). An ignoring culture of this type
may be perpetuated because when individuals access ser-
vices, they aim to enjoy “the ends of digital production, with-
out being inhibited by an education or a discussion about the
means” (Ibid, p. 16). Said another way, when an individual
Obar and Oeldorf-Hirsch
downloads a social media service, for example, their primary
focus appears to be the service itself, not tangential issues
such as Big Data and eligibility (Ibid).
This begins to explain why the length, abundance, and
complexity of policies may hinder user engagement with con-
sent processes, but does not tell the whole story. Research
addressing policy interface design and usability (e.g., Jensen
& Potts, 2004; Schaub, Balebako, Durity, & Cranor, 2015),
and strategies for enhancing policy engagement (e.g., Acquisti
et al., 2017; Harkous et al., 2018; Wilson et al., 2016), suggest
further that the traditional offline contract model does not
appear to translate well to digital services. More importantly,
the literature suggests that the path to consent materials,
whether clear or hidden, easy or difficult, may play a consider-
able role in the consent processes for social media services, as
well as in the perpetuation of a problematic ignoring culture.
The central focus of the current inquiry is the suggestion that
clickwraps, as presently designed, may raise political eco-
nomic concerns associated with the desire to keep users mov-
ing on a particular path toward monetized sections of services,
as opposed to diverting attention away to a different path—
one that might involve critical evaluations of infrastructure,
business relationships, and policy (see Shade & Shepherd,
2013). Such a political economic revelation would suggest
similarities to Herman and Chomsky’s (1988) assertion in
Manufacturing Consent that keeping individuals in a “buying
mood” (p. 17) is a strategy for maintaining the status quo.
Indeed, beyond assessments of the policies themselves, a
stronger understanding of the role that interface design fea-
tures such as clickwraps play in maintaining institutional
power structures is essential to unpacking and addressing the
consent challenge.
It is argued here that the use of a specific mechanism for
achieving a form of implied consent, the clickwrap, is a
political economic tactic employed by many operators of
social media services to connect users to services, in general,
and monetized sections of those services, in particular, as
quickly as possible. In so doing, these service providers are
encouraging circumvention of consent materials that inform
users about their rights and obligations as well as what hap-
pens to personal information. Even more, the act of circum-
vention hides information and opportunities for realizing
choice provisions provided by law, as well as opportunities
for dissenting or even fighting back against dominant play-
ers. This study does not advance this argument through
admissions from service providers themselves. Instead,
guided by qualitative survey responses from participants
about the consent materials common to social media ser-
vices, coupled with quantitative results from a complemen-
tary analysis (Obar & Oeldorf-Hirsch, 2018), this study
conducts a political economic assessment of the clickwrap
mechanism and its ability to distract and even discourage
engagement in consent processes. This assessment begins
with a conceptualization of the clickwrap agreement. A
reflection on the political economy of clickwraps is
3
presented next, with a specific emphasis on Herman and
Chomsky’s concept of the “buying mood.” What follows is a
review of the survey methodology and a presentation and
discussion of results.
Browsewraps, Shrinkwraps, and
Clickwraps
Where implied consent is expected and unchallenged, service
providers often make TOS and privacy policies available
through links placed at the margins of websites or apps. As
long as the link is accessible, use of the service suggests that
the user is providing implied consent. This form of agreement
is referred to as a “browsewrap agreement” (Kunz et al.,
2003). Due to the sensitive nature of personal data collected
by social media services, providers often attempt to achieve a
more engaged form of implied consent than the browsewrap.
The mechanism many social media services employ for this
purpose is the “clickwrap” or “clickwrap agreement.”
The clickwrap agreement evolved from the shrinkwrap
agreement, which was associated with software TOS that
were literally shrinkwrapped to hard copies of software prod-
ucts. Upon opening the plastic and removing the license, usu-
ally printed on paper, it was determined that users were
providing a form of consent to the terms provided (Kunkel,
2002). As providers began distributing software online, a
digital form of shrinkwrap agreement was developed, the
clickwrap. Shrinkwrap agreements differ from browsewraps
in that the requirement that the plastic be opened might be
seen as a user prompt and the act of opening the plastic an act
of user engagement. What keeps the shrinkwrap agreement
close to the implied consent end of the spectrum is that the act
of opening a product is not the same as engaging with a set of
policies. To improve upon both the browsewrap and the
shrinkwrap agreements, what was needed was a more explicit
prompt that presented the policies to the user for their consid-
eration. The clickwrap attempts to prompt users by providing
a question about policy agreement, sometimes presenting
policies directly on-screen or via a set of links to policies, and
thus suggests that the clickwrap operates closer to the
informed consent end of the spectrum.
Clickwrap Definition
The clickwrap is a digital prompt that enables the user to
provide or withhold their consent to a policy or set of policies
by clicking a button, checking a box, or completing some
other digitally mediated action suggesting “I agree” or “I
don’t agree” (see Figure 2).
Clickwraps common to current social media are often pre-
sented during the signup process. Once signup prompts are
completed, including acceptance of the clickwrap, the user is
directed beyond the consent process to subsequent introduc-
tory sections of the service. In some cases, clickwraps
include the text of a policy or policies with the agreement
4 Social Media + Society
Figure 2. Social media clickwrap examples.
prompt at the end. In this scenario, users would ideally read
through the text, scroll to the bottom, and then complete the
action of communicating “I agree” or “I don’t agree.” This
form of clickwrap, however, is uncommon to current social
media services. Instead, social media clickwraps often pro-
vide users with a link or links to policies, instead of the poli-
cies themselves. Users who click on the links are directed to
another section of the service where the policy is hosted.
Table 1 presents some of the characteristics common to
social media clickwraps. All of the social media services
included in the table, except Google, employ clickwraps with
policy links only, meaning that no policy text appears. Google
is the exception, which presents an abbreviated version of its
TOS with links to the full TOS and the privacy policy. As
noted in Figure 2 and in the table, services often combine the
signup prompts and the consent prompts on a single page. We
refer to this combination as a “quick-join clickwrap.” Google,
Tumblr, and Twitter differ slightly, attempting to place addi-
tional emphasis on the consent process by separating the ini-
tial signup portion from the clickwrap (see Figure 3).
As noted in Table 1, the policy links provided are similar
across services, with all services including a TOS link (LinkedIn
references a user policy) and most including a link to a privacy
policy. There is variation with the other links presented, as some
link to a cookie or a content policy. All social media clickwraps
noted include prominent accept buttons, often presented with
the “AGREE” or “SIGN UP” text centered with a colorful rect-
angular background to create the button visual. Most present the
policy links in a smaller font as compared to the accept button.
None present the policy links with a background to create the
Obar and Oeldorf-Hirsch 5

Figure 3. Tumblr initial signup prompt (left); Tumblr clickwrap (right).

Table 1. Popular Social Media Clickwrap Characteristics.

Policy text Signup/Consent Policy links Prominent Smaller Links at

prompts accept button policy links bottom
Facebook None Together Cookie, data, TOS Yes Yes No
Google+/YouTube Partial Separate Privacy, TOS Yes No No
Instagram None Together TOS, privacy Yes No Yes
LinkedIn None Together Cookie, privacy, user Yes Yes No
Pinterest None Together TOS, privacy Yes Yes Yes
reddit None Together Content, privacy, TOS Yes Yes Yes
Snapchat None Together Privacy, TOS Yes Yes No
Tumblr None Separate TOS Yes No No
Twitter None Separate Cookie, privacy, TOS Yes Yes Yes

TOS: terms of service

Assessed March 2018. Refers to browser clickwraps, except for Snapchat which requires mobile app.

button visual. Some of the services further reduce the promi-
nence of the links by placing the accept button closer to the
middle of the page while presenting the smaller, less colorful
links at the bottom. Thus, as users read from top to bottom, they
will not only encounter a prominent join button, in some
instances, they will encounter the join button first, before reach-
ing the smaller, less-prominent policy links.
The legal literature addressing clickwraps suggests that in
combination with the availability of full policies elsewhere on
the site or app, clickwraps facilitate an “adhesion contract”
(Davis, 2007). An adhesion contract is presented to individu-
als in a take-it-or-leave it manner (Goodman, 1999). Contracts
of this type are designed in this fashion generally because they
are presented to masses of individuals wishing to participate in
the same service. The result is that any one individual is gener-
ally restricted from negotiating for modifications to the con-
tract and must simply answer yes or no (Goodman, 1999). As
Goodman (1999) notes, “During the early rise of capitalism,
most exchanges took place at arms length. But, as the
economy evolved into one in which distribution was more
centralized, such contracts of adhesion became prevalent due
to their efficient and utilitarian function” (p. 322). The utilitar-
ian approach of employing adhesion contracts when individu-
als are merely consuming products and services may seem
reasonable; however, the shift toward social media prosump-
tion, where the technology is driven by a mosaic of personally
identifiable forms of user content generation (Obar &
Wildman, 2015), suggests that the shoehorning of social media
into traditional consumer regulatory silos via the adhesion
contract may be problematic. These concerns are amplified by
the draw of network effects and the control of monopoly
power which contribute to social and professional exclusion
concerns associated with not participating in social media
(Beverungen, Böhm, & Land, 2015). As Fuchs (2014) notes,
Audiences are under the ideological control of capitalists who
possess control over the means of communication. If for example
people stop using Facebook and social networking sites, they
6 Social Media + Society
may miss certain social contract opportunities. [. . . ] Commercial
media coerce individuals to use them. The more monopoly
power they possess, the easier it gets to exert this coercion over
media consumers and users. (p. 91)
This raises a variety of political economic concerns asso-
ciated with the ability for users to control their own digital
destinies in light of the corporate design and control of social
media. In what follows, the extent to which the clickwrap
facilitates the circumvention of consent materials for the pur-
pose of advancing corporate interests is discussed.
The Political Economy of Clickwraps
The consent process is a unique opportunity for users to
question and engage the power structures controlling their
digital destinies. Consent materials, such as TOS and privacy
policies, are not only present to be accepted or rejected. They
often contain information that can be questioned, and contact
information for individuals and institutions that may respond
to those questions (Clement & Obar, 2016; Obar & Clement,
2018). Consent materials also often contain references to
applicable law, which could clarify user rights as well as the
institutional strength supportive of dissention. References to
advocacy organizations involved in the protection and pro-
motion of civil liberties are also present in some cases, which
might provide users with other venues to voice concern and
find assistance. Furthermore, consent materials often provide
links to services that might help users and their supporters
deliver on their concerns. Common examples include links
to services for controlling cookie management, marketing
preferences, and even forms of data review and removal.
More recently, privacy materials including transparency
reports that begin to explain the relationship between service
providers and government agencies that make lawful access
requests are being provided (Clement & Obar, 2016; Obar &
Clement, 2018; Parsons, 2017). Certain providers, especially
Internet service providers (ISPs), are even starting to include
law enforcement handbooks that offer some information
about the methods law enforcement agencies employ to
obtain private information. Although recent scholarship
advises a measured approach to transparency efforts, espe-
cially in terms of the auditability of algorithms (see Ananny
& Crawford, 2016; Kroll et al., 2017), notice components are
proving to be far more than just adhesion contracts. TOS,
privacy policies, and other forms of data privacy transpar-
ency can be used by individuals to question the power struc-
tures that direct social media experience, and digital destinies
emanating from that experience (see Citron & Pasquale,
2014; Pasquale, 2015). As a result, efforts to hide these mate-
rials from users, or discourage engagement with them, with
the effect of impeding dissent, emphasize similarities to ele-
ments of Herman and Chomsky’s (1988) critique of the tra-
ditional media industry (broadcasting, film, print, etc.) in the
book Manufacturing Consent.
Clickwraps and Manufacturing Consent
The book title draws from Walter Lippmann’s (1922/1977)
use of the phrase “manufacture of consent” (p. 158) used to
explain how propaganda processes shape public opinion.
Lippmann argued that new communication technologies,
coupled with psychological research, produced new tech-
niques for manufacturing consent. These techniques shape
our opinions, our views of the world, and our behaviors, and
present new conceptualizations of self-governance.
Sixty years later, Edward Herman and Noam Chomsky’s
(1988) work offered a critique of the corporate media at the
time and described how a propaganda model, comprising five
filters, shapes the communication technologies that manufac-
ture consent. The five filters (ownership, advertising, sources,
flak, and anticommunism) articulate a seminal gatekeeping
model, which describes how money and power influence the
processes for shaping media content. The inequalities and
asymmetries that persist suggest that the powerful define the
details and boundaries of the media outlets involved in shap-
ing societal discourse. As the authors note,
(The propaganda model) traces the routes by which money and
power are able to filter out the news fit to print, marginalize
dissent, and allow the government and dominant private interests
to get their messages across to the public. (p. 2)
Most relevant to the current inquiry is a component of the
second filter, advertising. Advertisers are powerful because
they pay media companies to run advertisements. The threat
of losing advertising revenue acts as a catalyst that can shape
media processes and choices. In describing the ideal media
environment for the presentation of advertisements, one that
advertisers likely want media producers to facilitate, Herman
and Chomsky (1988) refer to the concept of the “buying
mood” (p. 17). They note,
Advertisers will want, more generally, to avoid programs with
serious complexities and disturbing controversies that
interfere with the “buying mood.” They seek programs that
will lightly entertain and thus fit in with the spirit of the
primary purpose of program purchases—dissemination of a
selling message. (pp. 17–18)
To facilitate this buying mood, the authors explain that media
producers alter or avoid content that might promote critical
thinking or dissention. This process could be facilitated at mul-
tiple points during the processes of production and distribution,
ranging from efforts associated with the selection of texts to the
shaping of texts (imagery, language, etc.) and even the ordering
of texts. Studies of agenda-setting theory often pay particular
attention to the impact of these processes on the salience of the
texts themselves (McCombs & Shaw, 1972). This particular
theory emphasizes that it is not necessarily the content of a text
that contributes to its salience, but the prominence bestowed on
that text in terms of its ordering in relation to other texts, as well
Obar and Oeldorf-Hirsch
as the length of time devoted to presentation and repetition
(Scheufele & Tewksbury, 2007). Ensuring that stories deemed
conducive to the strategy maintained by the producers are
“above the fold” of the newspaper, at the front of the newscast,
or at the top of the website or app, and emphasized in terms of
length, size, and repetition, is all central to generating the effect.
Conversely, stories deemed less important or incompatible with
such a strategy are more difficult to find or are not addressed at
all. Herman and Chomsky suggest that by emphasizing content
that promotes the buying mood and by de-emphasizing or dis-
tracting from content that might promote critical thinking or dis-
sention, media producers keep consumers moving in the
structured direction most beneficial to the status quo. As
Gamson, Croteau, Hoynes, and Sasson (1992) note, “content
should not only create the proper buying mood but should avoid
upstaging the advertising content that pays the bill” (p. 378).
While Herman and Chomsky’s discussion of the mainte-
nance of the buying mood identifies well a number of the ele-
ments relevant to the current analysis, namely, structural
designs that have the potential to drive consumers in a par-
ticular direction to maintain the status quo, this articulates a
concern fairly common to political economic analyses of
communication systems. Assessments from the Frankfurt
School and those drawing from these early examples to assess
the culture industries often suggest that media products are
designed to prioritize capitalist forms of production. One con-
cern is that these products can contribute to “standardized
reactions [. . . ] notably its adherents’ fierce aversion to any-
thing different” (Adorno, 1976, p. 29). The desire to engender
an automated system of consumption, maintained both by the
structure of the media products and by the programmed
behaviors of consumers, is a critique presented repeatedly by
scholars of communications. That being said, beyond the
study of heuristics linked to ignoring behaviors during social
media signup (e.g., Böhme & Köpsell, 2010), and sugges-
tions of resignation being associated with a lack of user
engagement with digital protections (see Turow et al., 2015),
considerable research gaps exist; in particular, research clari-
fying the extent to which these traditional political economic
concerns are associated with consent failures on social media.
In what follows, the extent to which social media click-
wraps facilitate similar political economic concerns will be
addressed. Data from a qualitative survey addressing partici-
pant perceptions of the role of clickwraps in facilitating con-
sent to the policies of social media services will be presented.
The aim is to address the extent to which clickwrap agree-
ments aid or hinder the delivery of the informed consent nec-
essary to realize the fundamental protections envisioned for
notice privacy policy.
Method
The qualitative data assessed by this study were collected in
the fall of 2015 as a part of a related survey (Obar & Oeldorf-
Hirsch, 2018), but were not included in the previous
7
analysis. As this study involved human participants and an
assessment of their perceptions and use of social media ser-
vices, ethics approval from institutional review board (IRB)/
research ethics board (REB) was sought by the researchers
and granted by the universities with which the authors were
affiliated at the time of data collection.
Sample
The sample (N = 513)2 was recruited from a large undergrad-
uate communication studies course at a public northeastern
US university. Course credit was provided for completing
the survey, which was hosted on www.qualtrics.com. The
demographics of the sample included 47% that identified as
female, 45% as male, and 8% that did not identify. The aver-
age age of the participants was 19 years. The majority (62%)
of those surveyed identified themselves as Caucasian, 15%
as Asian, 6% as Black, 2% as Hispanic or Latino/a, 3% as
mixed race/ethnicity, 3% as another race/ethnicity, and the
remaining 9% did not identify.
Procedure
The section of the survey addressed by this study asked par-
ticipants to engage with a fictitious social media service called
“NameDrop,” with a front page and signup prompts mimick-
ing popular social media services (e.g., LinkedIn or Facebook).
We created a fictitious service rather than ask about an existing
one so that no participants were familiar with the service and
could not have previously interacted with the signup process.
Participants were told that their university had entered into an
agreement with the startup and that individuals were needed
for a “pre-launch evaluation” of the service. During the sur-
vey, participants encountered the following text:
Below is an image of a new social networking site called
NameDrop—the future of professional networking services!
(University name here) is contributing to a pre-launch
evaluation of the site. The site designers would like you to
review the layout and function of the site and provide feedback.
On the pages that follow, please review the different sections of
the site and answer the questions provided. To complete the
review you will be signing up for the site and entering some
basic personal information. Your account can be deleted after
completing the review. Please click through the following pages
to complete the review.
Below this text was an image of NameDrop’s front page
(see Figure 4). The image was designed to look like an initial
signup page for a social media service, with the common
quick-join clickwrap format displayed. This included
prompts to enter some personal information and then the
clickwrap, comprising a very prominent “JOIN” button, fol-
lowed by the text in small letters: “By clicking join, you
agree to abide by our terms of service.”
8 Social Media + Society
Figure 4. Front page of NameDrop.
Due to the limitations of the survey design, participants
were unable to fill in the prompts provided on the image and
could not actually click the “JOIN” button. Instead, partici-
pants were asked to make their consent selection at the bot-
tom of the page. Below the image was the text “Get started,
it’s free!” This was followed by two radio button options.
The first was the clickwrap option which read, “Sign Up!
(By clicking Sign Up, you agree to NameDrop’s privacy
policy).” The second read, “Click here to read NameDrop’s
privacy policy.” Those who selected the clickwrap option
were directed past the privacy policy to NameDrop’s TOS
page, which could not be skipped. Those who selected the
second option were directed to NameDrop’s privacy policy
before seeing the TOS. The privacy and TOS policies could
be accepted or rejected.
After completing a variety of other survey questions,
whose results appear in the related survey analysis, partici-
pants were again presented with the NameDrop front page.
Text noted:
Notice the section in the middle of the page where you can fill in
your name, email and password. Notice the blue button labeled
“JOIN.” Also notice that below the button is a comment about
agreeing to Terms of Service.
Two open-ended questions followed: (1) “When you
encounter signup prompts like this (name, password, etc.),
do you often click ‘JOIN’ without reading Terms of
Service? Explain why or why not,” and (2) “Describe your
experience with ‘quick join’ signup options like this.” The
responses to the qualitative questions were assessed
employing a model described by Braun and Clarke (2006)
for conducting theoretical thematic analysis. This particu-
lar model for thematic analyses is “driven by the research-
er’s theoretical or analytic interest” (p. 84) and is helpful in
investigating possible links between original qualitative
data and established theory. Themes were organized by
identifying response patterns about clickwraps and the
manufacture of consent.
Results
Three themes identified suggest a problematic relationship
between clickwrap agreements and social media consent
processes: (1) the clickwrap fails to notify users about the
consent process, (2) the clickwrap suggests that the consent
process is unimportant, and (3) the clickwrap discourages
engagement with the consent process.
Obar and Oeldorf-Hirsch
Theme 1: The Clickwrap Fails to Notify Users
About the Consent Process
The clearest theme to emerge was the suggestion that the
clickwrap failed to make participants aware that a consent pro-
cess was taking place. There appear to be two reasons for this:
the prominence of the “JOIN” button, and the comparatively
smaller, less prominent, or even hidden policy links. In terms
of the former, one participant said the “JOIN” button is “prom-
inent,” while others said the button “is the first thing I see.” By
comparison, the links to the privacy and TOS policies are “not
emphasized” and “hidden,” the words are “miniscule” and
“not noticeable,” and users “don’t even see the text below.”
One participant noted,
I will click join because the terms of service is very small and on
the bottom. Its not somewhere that you will see automatically.
You have to look for it compared to the “join button” where you
can see it clearly, or its one of the first things you see.
Indeed, the small size of the policy links was noted repeat-
edly. One participant noted, “[I] don’t usually notice the fine
print but rather only the word ‘join’,” while another said,
“the terms of service button is so small that [I] don’t even
notice it.” Another echoed this sentiment, stating, “I usually
don’t even notice the small writing,” while another said, “the
Terms of Service is in REALLY small font, and the JOIN
button is enlarged.” Yet another added that the policy link
size “makes it easy to miss.”
Not only does the size and relative prominence of the text
impact notification of the consent process, but placement of the
text does as well. Referring again to the policy links, partici-
pants noted, “sometimes I don’t even see it” and “I don’t see
where to find the terms of service,” while others said the link
“isn’t very visible” and “I usually do not even notice or ignore
the Terms of Service because the words are so minuscule/hid-
den.” One additional participant was more specific about the
placement concern, noting that they often select the clickwrap
option “because the ‘JOIN’ button is in the middle of the page
and also the center of attention, the terms of service is in the bot-
tom of the page out of the main focal range of the web page.”
One participant noted, “Many times I do not notice this
statement and I believe I will be brought to the terms of ser-
vice following hitting the Join button,” suggesting that even
those who arrive at the clickwrap with knowledge of consent
processes are susceptible to misdirection. At the same time,
those who do not understand the role of consent or consent
processes in the social media context find themselves with-
out direction and subject to exploitation. As one participant
noted, “I don’t really know what I should be looking for.”
Theme 2: The Clickwrap Suggests That the
Consent Process Is Unimportant
Another theme identified in the qualitative data suggests that
the presentation of the clickwrap option communicates to
9
participants that the consent process is unimportant. One par-
ticipant stated this explicitly, suggesting about the policy
links, “because the print is so small, [I] assume it’s not
important.” Another expanded on this idea, emphasizing that
the accept button added an additional layer to this percep-
tion, noting, “‘JOIN’ is much more noticeable and I figure
that there’s nothing that important in the terms of service.” A
number of other participants also suggested that they felt the
consent process was unimportant.
While the current analysis is unable to assess the extent
to which these perceptions are linked to disengagement in
privacy debates generally, the following comments suggest
that clickwraps fail to convince individuals of the impor-
tance of the consent process, especially while the signup
process is taking place. For example, one participant noted,
“I never think to look for it or ever think it is that important
to read them,” while another said, “I assume there’s nothing
important to read that concerns me,” and another said “I
feel I do not need to read them.” This perception took on a
variety of forms, with some extending their conclusion
beyond an individual service, noting, “I feel as if the terms
of service for all websites are pretty much the same and not
too important.” Indeed, the lack of importance attributed to
the consent process fails to convey to participants how this
is also a unique opportunity for dissent, evidenced by one
participant who noted, “I really don’t have a say. I have to
do what they say or I can’t use [the site].” This concern is
amplified by feelings of resignation expressed by partici-
pants. Instead of feeling as though the consent process is an
opportunity to realize fundamental privacy protections,
participants wrote about engaging with the clickwrap: “If
you are interested in joining you must do it regardless.” The
ability of clickwraps to keep users in a fastlane to mone-
tized sections of services, as opposed to diverting attention
to dissent possibilities, was epitomized by the comments of
one additional participant who noted, “I typically do not see
a risk in joining.”
Theme 3: The Clickwrap Discourages
Engagement With the Consent Process
Some participants suggested that the prominence of the join
button compared to the lack of emphasis placed on the policy
links manifests a political economic motive on the part of the
social media provider. Participants suggested that this dis-
tinction pointed to a clear effort on the part of the service
provider to discourage user engagement with the consent
process. One participant noted that they don’t feel they need
to read policies because the social media service “doesn’t
make me go through it.” Furthermore, referring to the policy
links compared with the colorful “JOIN” button, one partici-
pant articulated specific concerns suggesting that the provid-
ers are indeed working to manufacture consent, noting, “they
don’t even have a button for their Terms of Service. They
keep it private so you don’t think about it.” Another
10
participant said about clickwraps, “They are a way to lead
you to think that their website is safe because they may be
hiding something.”
The design decision to make a colorful, bold, prominently
displayed button for “JOIN,” and only providing a link (in
small font) to the policies, sometimes at the bottom of the
page, suggests both a hierarchy of importance as well as a
possible strategy to direct people away from the consent dis-
cussion. This priority is highlighted further by one partici-
pant’s comment that “the format of the site makes me eager
to join so reading the terms of service seems like a waste of
my time.” Indeed, comments like “they keep it private” and
“hiding something” suggest that the participants perceive
intent on the part of the social media service providers to
conceal the consent process from users. Another participant
implied a similar intent by noting “reading Terms of Service
takes too long and is confusing and usually people don’t read
it anyways. And by the looks of it this website knows that
and just automatically agrees them to the terms.”
A number of participants suggested a relationship between
this discouragement and an ignoring culture, which could
suggest what Adorno (1976) once described as the construc-
tion of “standardized reactions” (p. 29). One participant
noted that they accept clickwraps “because it does not even
occur to me to read the terms of service. It has become
instinct to just agree without reading them.” Others described
the act of skipping policies as a “habit,” and that “it feels like
a cultural norm not to read them.” Others noted that “if there
is a quick join, I guess I am used to just doing that and not
thinking about thoroughly reading the terms of service right
away,” and that “I often do this without even realizing it.”
A number of study limitations should be noted. As the
study was conducted with undergraduate students from a pub-
lic northeastern US university, the sample is not representa-
tive. It is possible that undergraduates are more likely to
prefer clickwraps when compared with other populations,
although the scholarship suggests that age may not be a deter-
mining factor (e.g., Jensen, Potts, & Jensen, 2005). To be
clear, the aim of this study is not to generalize and suggest
that different groups view clickwraps as problematic. What is
argued is that based on our own interpretation of the click-
wrap (i.e., see Table 1), coupled with participant responses
from a sample of undergraduates, it appears that the click-
wrap is a political economic mechanism for manufacturing
consent.
Discussion
As a preface to the discussion of study results, this section
begins with the presentation of select findings from the
related survey (Obar & Oeldorf-Hirsch, 2018). Upon engag-
ing with the NameDrop consent materials, 74% of partici-
pants chose the clickwrap option. This means that 399 of the
543 individuals who took the survey clicked that they agreed
to NameDrop’s privacy policy without being taken to the
Social Media + Society
privacy policy page and thus without reading a single word
of the policy. It is possible that the use of the university’s
name in affiliation with the NameDrop site influenced par-
ticipants to agree to the privacy policy without reading. That
being said, the results of the related survey also revealed that
78% of participants noted that they use clickwrap options
often, with 90% noting that they use the clickwrap option
“often or sometimes, with the vast majority using them
often” (Obar & Oeldorf-Hirsch, 2018, p. 8). It is possible that
the clickwrap’s failure to notify some participants about the
consent process contributed to the majority ignoring
NameDrop’s privacy policy. Furthermore, the comments
suggesting that participants use clickwraps often emphasize
that this might not have been the first time a clickwrap failed
to notify users about consent materials. It should be added
that the failure to notify users suggests that social media
clickwraps may not be satisfying a common legal require-
ment whereby services must ensure that a consent process
“afforded the user a reasonable opportunity to find and read
the terms without much effort” (Bayley, 2009).
These findings support the general assertion advanced by
the “biggest lie on the internet” anecdote, namely that it is a
common practice, in the US context at least, to ignore consent
materials, especially for social media services. This is sup-
ported by similar research findings addressing the use of
clickwraps for e-commerce sites (Marotta-Wurgler, 2012), as
well as in various self-report assessments of engagement with
digitally mediated consent materials (Fiesler, Lampe, &
Bruckman, 2016; Good, Grossklags, Mulligan, & Konstan,
2007). Beyond the general assertion that ignoring consent
materials is common practice, the results suggest that click-
wraps may be partly to blame for both facilitating problem-
atic interactions with consent materials in the moment where
the user is presented the opportunity to engage and for per-
petuating what might be referred to as an ignoring culture
associated with consent materials, or as one participant noted,
“a cultural norm not to read them.”
This leads to the question, why is this happening? When
participants in the related study were asked about their use of
clickwrap options, they often provided additional details
explaining why. A prominent theme that emerged suggests
that users are not very interested in the consent process in
general. Many praised the clickwrap option for facilitating
“quick,” “simple,” “easy,” and “convenient” access to the
social media service. The primary reason for this attitude,
identified in the related study, is “the desire to enjoy the ends
of digital media production (as quickly as possible), without
being inhibited by the means” (Obar & Oeldorf-Hirsch,
2018, p. 10), meaning that users want to enjoy the affor-
dances of the services they are engaging when they down-
load them, not get into a tangential discussion or education
about data. Participants made this desire to circumvent con-
sent materials quite clear. One participant said, “my friends
use this social media in oder [sic] to catch up with their life i
[sic] signup for this as quick as possible,” while another
Obar and Oeldorf-Hirsch
noted, “I’m in a hurry to use the service” (Ibid, p. 10). Indeed,
the view that notice equals nuisance was fairly clear, as was
the desire to get away from the threat of a tangential buzz-
kill, as another participant noted: “its a hassle to deal with a
massive amount of boring pages about privacy and security
when the site you are joining is there to do something much
more interesting” (Ibid).
The three themes identified in this study (clickwraps fail
to notify users about the consent process, suggest that con-
sent processes are unimportant, and discourage engagement),
coupled with the findings of the related study, suggest that
the clickwrap is an effective political economic mechanism
social media services can utilize to manufacture consent.
Herman and Chomsky (1988) suggest that a central compo-
nent of their propaganda model, which helps maintain the
status quo, is to ensure that the content of a medium keeps
consumers moving toward desired ends. In the current con-
text, this might mean social media service providers moving
users beyond consent processes as quickly as possible (dur-
ing signup and when policies change). Being strategic about
audience flow, or the path users take, is central to ensuring
that consumers are moving not only toward the services
themselves but to sections of services that are monetized. As
Herman and Chomsky note, providers work “to maintain
audience ‘flow’ levels, that is, to keep people watching [. . . ]
in order to sustain advertising ratings and revenue” (p. 18).
While the authors were talking about keeping people tuned
in after commercial breaks and when new shows start, the
analogy suggests that social media providers might want to
keep the flow moving toward monetized elements of the ser-
vice, as opposed to losing customers during consent pro-
cesses. What is different about the application of this political
economic lens to the social media context is that while it is
possible that these consent processes might discourage users
from using services (equivalent to turning off or tuning out
the television), a failure to keep people moving beyond con-
sent processes might contribute to something more—users
that question data management practices. This is the reason
that Herman and Chomsky (1988) emphasize the strategy of
avoiding content that brings to mind “serious complexities
and disturbing controversies that interfere with the ‘buying
mood’” (p. 17). By expediting consent processes and cir-
cumventing consent materials, social media services keep
users away from information about data management, away
from information that might help them engage in choice
mechanisms to control data management practices, and away
from opportunities for contacting and questioning corporate
and legal representatives. By maintaining a “buying mood”
or in the social media context, the mindset where consent
materials are invisible, irrelevant, or irritating, social media
providers maintain the status quo and ensure that users
remain within the boundaries of the Internet governance
models determined by platforms (DeNardis & Hackl, 2015).
The strategies for accomplishing this task are evidenced
by successes achieved by the clickwrap, as articulated by the
11
participants in this study. The prominence of the “JOIN” but-
ton and the “hidden” links to the policies demonstrates a
classic agenda-setting function produced by the clickwrap.
Participants emphasized not only that they didn’t notice the
links to the policies but also that the presentation didn’t bring
to mind the need to engage. The notion that the relationship
between the “JOIN” button and the policy links influences
not necessarily what participants think but what they think
about (see: Cohen, 1963; McCombs & Shaw, 1972) suggests
that clickwrap design choices have a direct connection to the
process of maintaining the flow Herman and Chomsky
emphasize.
Beyond the agenda-setting function is the point raised by
participants that the clickwrap suggests that consent pro-
cesses are unimportant and may also discourage engage-
ment. While it cannot be asserted that clickwraps are entirely
to blame for perpetuating ignoring behavior, especially when
the related study identified information overload as a signifi-
cant negative predictor of whether users read privacy and
TOS policies (Obar & Oeldorf-Hirsch, 2018), the possible
connection between perceived motives of social media pro-
viders and ignoring behaviors is worth exploring. This is not
a concern that is unique to consent processes but is a concern
that communication scholars are increasingly emphasizing in
terms of how social media services demonstrate the latest
extensions of capitalist methods of production (see Cohen,
2008; Fuchs, 2014). As Beverungen et al. (2015) write,
Marxist organization studies also understands that managerial
labour has two sides, namely a productive side involved in the
organization of production, and an unproductive side concerned
merely with reproducing capitalist relations of production. [. . . ]
By developing protocols for user engagement, which encourages
users to produce content and data [. . . ] Facebook employees are
managing the free labour of its users in such a ways as to increase
the value to be extracted from it. [. . . ]
It is, therefore, not so much a question of discouraging
misbehaviour as to encourage user activity that produces the
right kind of content and data to be valorized, by prescribing
certain kinds of user activity via the user interface and the codes
and protocols that ensure its function. (pp. 483–484)
By encouraging a form of user activity, namely, the cir-
cumvention of consent materials, utilizing consent circum-
vention protocols (i.e., the clickwrap), social media services
extend traditional strategies associated with the corporate
media. As Cohen (2008) notes, these efforts by social media
services “can be understood as channeling and structuring
online activity to suit the needs of business models” (p. 17).
What remains is the extent to which these efforts contrib-
ute to a set of cultural norms and perhaps an effect that is
more hegemonic. When members of the Frankfurt School
wrote about, as Adorno (1976) noted, “standardized reac-
tions” (p. 29), they were referring to a relationship between
structural tactics and cultural norms. The standardized
12
reaction not only serves political economic ends because it
keeps the flow moving toward monetization, it also inhibits
dissention by keeping consumers experiencing, as Marcuse
(1964/1991) once said, “euphoria in unhappiness” (p. 5).
This is the reason that Adorno suggests that standardized
reactions lead to “its adherents’ fierce aversion to anything
different” (Adorno, 1976, p. 29). As noted in the related
study, people “desire to enjoy the ends of digital media pro-
duction without being inhibited by the means” (Obar &
Oeldorf-Hirsch, 2018, p. 10). When they are inhibited,
engaged in tangential conversation and educations about
data management, they are delayed from reaching the antici-
pated pleasure afforded by social media. Perhaps this is why
participants seem to dislike consent processes so much.
Aside from not understanding the implications of ignoring
policies, the diversion, if it is noticed, seems pointless and
most certainly counter to the reason users downloaded the
app in the first place.
Walter Lippmann (1922/1977) once wrote, “That the
manufacture of consent is capable of great refinements no
one, I think, denies. [. . . ] the opportunities for manipula-
tion open to anyone who understands the process are plain
enough” (p. 158). More than 60 years later, Herman and
Chomsky (1988) added, “(If) the powerful are able to fix
the premises of discourse [. . . ] the standard view of how
the system works is at serious odds with reality” (p. xi).
Indeed, it appears that clickwraps can structure and shape
discursive opportunities associated with social media con-
sent processes. The extent to which the operators of social
media services are purposefully engaging in this form of
manipulation remains unclear. What is clear is that as a
political economic mechanism, the clickwrap benefits cor-
porate interests motivated to maintain the status quo while
failing to deliver digital privacy and reputation protections
associated with meaningful engagement in consent
processes.
Acknowledgements
Our sincerest thanks to Valeta Wensloff for your work on the
NameDrop image, and to Afifah Khawaja for contributing research
assistance.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect
to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, author-
ship, and/or publication of this article.
Notes
1. Social media services are conceptualized here as computer-
mediated, user-centric, digital spaces that facilitate user con-
tent generation and virtual social networking (boyd & Ellison,
2007; Obar & Wildman, 2015). Examples of these services go
Social Media + Society
far beyond primary networks such as Facebook and Twitter,
as the myriad built-in and stand-alone varieties suggest that
social media options extend to a wide range of Web 2.0 pos-
sibilities (boyd & Ellison, 2007; Obar & Wildman, 2015).
2. The complete sample in the related study is N = 543. A total of
513 participants answered the qualitative questions addressed
by this study.
References
Acquisti, A., Adjerid, I., Balebako, R., Brandimarte, L., Cranor, L.
F., Komanduri, S., Leon, P. G., Sadeh, N., Schaub, F., Sleeper,
M., Wang, Y., & Wilson, S. (2017). Nudges for privacy and
security: Understanding and assisting users’ choices online.
ACM Computing Surveyes, 50(3), Article 44, 1–41.
Adorno, T. W. (1976). Introduction to the sociology of music (E. B.
Ashton, Trans.). New York, NY: Continuum.
Ananny, M., & Crawford, K. (2016). Seeing without knowing:
Limitations of the transparency ideal and its application to
algorithmic accountability. New Media & Society, 20(3), 1–17.
Bayley, E. (2009, November 16). The clicks that bind: Ways
users “agree” to online terms of service. Electronic Frontier
Foundation. Retrieved from https://www.eff.org/wp/clicks-
bind-ways-users-agree-online-terms-service
Beverungen, A., Böhm, S., & Land, C. (2015). Free labour, social
media, management: Challenging Marxist organization stud-
ies. Organization Studies, 36, 473–489.
Böhme, R., & Köpsell, S. (2010). Trained to accept? A field
experiment on consent dialogs. In Proceedings of the SIGCHI
Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems (pp.
2403–2406). New York, NY: ACM.
boyd, d. m., & Ellison, N. B. (2007). Social network sites:
Definition, history, and scholarship. Journal of Computer-
Mediated Communication, 13, 210–230.
Braun, V., & Clarke, V. (2006). Using thematic analysis in psychol-
ogy. Qualitative Research in Psychology, 3, 77–101.
Cate, F. H. (2006). The failure of fair information practice princi-
ples. In J. K. Winn (Ed.), Consumer protection in the age of the
information economy (pp. 343–379). Farnham, UK: Ashgate
Publishing.
Citron, D. K., & Pasquale, F. (2014). The scored society: Due process
for automated predictions. Washington Law Review, 89, 1–33.
Clement, A., & Obar, J. A. (2016). Keeping internet users in the
know or in the dark: An analysis of the data privacy transpar-
ency of Canadian internet carriers. Journal of Information
Policy, 6, 294–331.
Cohen, B. C. (1963/2015). The press and foreign policy. Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press.
Cohen, N. S. (2008). The valorization of surveillance: Towards
a political economy of Facebook. Democratic Communiqué,
22, 5–22.
Davis, N. J. (2007). Presumed assent: The judicial acceptance of
clickwrap. Berkeley Technology Law Journal, 22, 577–598.
DeNardis, L., & Hackl, A. M. (2015). Internet governance by social
media platforms. Telecommunications Policy, 39, 761–770.
Faden, R. R., & Beauchamp, T. L. (1986). A history and theory of
informed consent. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.
Federal Trade Commission. (199, June). Privacy online: A report to
Congress. Retrieved from https://www.ftc.gov/sites/default/files/
documents/reports/privacy-online-report-congress/priv-23a.pdf
Obar and Oeldorf-Hirsch
Fiesler, C., Lampe, C., & Bruckman, A. S. (2016). Reality and
perception of copyright terms of service for online content
creation. In Proceedings of the 19th ACM Conference on
Computer-supported Cooperative Work & Social Computing
(pp. 1450–1461). New York, NY: ACM.
Fuchs, C. (2014). Digital labour and Karl Marx. New York, NY.
Routledge.
Gamson, W. A., Croteau, D., Hoynes, W., & Sasson, T. (1992).
Media images and the social construction of reality. Annual
Review of Sociology, 18, 373–393.
Good, N. S., Grossklags, J., Mulligan, D., & Konstan, J. A. (2007).
Noticing notice: A large- scale experiment on the timing of
software license agreements. In Proceedings of the SIGCHI
Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems (pp.
607–616). New York, NY: ACM.
Goodman, B. (1999). Honey, I shrink-wrapped the consumer: The
shrink-wrap agreement as an adhesion contract. Cardozo Law
Review, 21, 319–360.
Harkous, H., Fawaz, K., Lebret, R., Schaub, F., Shin, K. G.,
& Aberer, K. (2018). Polisis: Automated analysis and
presentation of privacy policies using deep learning.
Computation and Language. Retrieved from https://arxiv.
org/abs/1802.02561
Herman, E. S., & Chomsky, N. (1988). Manufacturing consent: The
political economy of the mass media. New York, NY: Pantheon
Books.
Jensen, C., & Potts, C. (2004). Privacy policies as decision-making
tools: An evaluation of online privacy notices. In Proceedings
of the SIGCHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing
Systems (pp. 471–478). New York, NY: ACM.
Jensen, C., Potts, C., & Jensen, C. (2005). Privacy practices of inter-
net users: Self-reports versus observed behavior. International
Journal of Human-Computer Studies, 63(1-2), 203–227.
Kroll, J. A., Huey, J., Barocas, S., Felten, E. W., Reidenberg, J. R.,
Robinson, D. G., & Yu, H. (2017). Accountable algorithms.
University of Pennsylvania Law Review, 165, 633–705.
Kunkel, R. G. (2002, September 29-October 2). Recent developments
in shrinkwrap, clickwrap and browsewrap licenses in the United
States. Paper presented at the Australasian Law Teachers’
Association annual conference hosted by Murdoch University
School of Law (vol. 9), Perth, Western Australia, Australia.
Kunz, C. L., Ottaviani, J. E., Ziff, E. D., Moringiello, J. M., Porter,
K. M., & Debrow, J. C. (2003). Browse-wrap agreements:
Validity of implied assent in electronic form agreements. The
Business Lawyer, 59, 279–312.
Lippmann, W. (1997). Public opinion. New York, NY: Free Press.
(Original work published in 1922)
Madden, M., Gilman, M. E., Levy, K. E. C., & Marwick, A. E.
(2017). Privacy, poverty and Big Data: A matrix of vulnerabili-
ties for poor Americans. Washington University Law Review,
95, 53–125.
Marcuse, H. (1991). One-dimensional man: Studies in the ideol-
ogy of advanced industrial society. Boston, MA: Beacon Press.
(Original work published in 1964)
Marotta-Wurgler, F. (2012). Does contract disclosure matter? Journal
of Institutional and Theoretical Economics, 168, 94–119.
McCombs, M. E., & Shaw, D. L. (1972). The agenda-setting
function of mass media. Public Opinion Quarterly, 36, 176–
187.
13
McDonald, A. M., & Cranor, L. F. (2008). The cost of reading pri-
vacy policies. ISJLP, 4, 540–565.
Nissenbaum, H. (2011). A contextual approach to privacy online.
Daedalus, 140, 32–48.
Obar, J. A. (2015). Big data and the phantom public: Walter
Lippmann and the fallacy of data privacy self-management.
Big Data & Society, 2(2), 1–16.
Obar, J. A., & Clement, A. (2018). Keeping internet users in the
know or in the dark: An analysis of the data privacy transpar-
ency of Canadian internet carriers. 2018 Report. Retrieved
from https://www.ixmaps.ca/transparency.php
Obar, J. A., & Oeldorf-Hirsch, A. (2017). Clickwrap impact:
Quick-join options and ignoring privacy and terms of service
policies of social networking services. In Proceedings of the
8th International Conference on Social Media & Society (p.
50). New York, NYL ACM.
Obar, J. A., & Oeldorf-Hirsch, A. (2018). The biggest lie on the inter-
net: Ignoring the privacy policies and terms of service policies
of social networking services. Information, Communication &
Society. doi:10.1080/1369118X.2018.1486870
Obar, J. A., & Wildman, S. (2015). Social media definition and
the governance challenge: An introduction to the special issue.
Telecommunications Policy, 9(39), 745–750.
Office of the Privacy Commissioner of Canada. (2016). Consent
and privacy: A discussion paper exploring potential enhance-
ments to consent under the personal information protection
and electronic documents act. Retrieved from https://www.
priv.gc.ca/en/opc-actions-and-decisions/research/explore-pri-
vacy-research/2016/consent_201605/
Parsons, C. (2017). The (in) effectiveness of voluntarily
produced transparency reports. Business & Society.
doi:10.1177/0007650317717957
Pasquale, F. (2015). The black box society: The secret algorithms
that control money and information. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.
Reidenberg, J. R., Breaux, T., Cranor, L. F., French, B., Grannis,
A., Graves, J. T., & Schaub, F. (2015a). Disagreeable privacy
policies: Mismatches between meaning and users’ understand-
ing. Berkeley Technology Law Journal, 30, 39–68.
Reidenberg, J. R., Russell, N. C., Callen, A. J., Qasir, S., & Norton,
T. B. (2015b). Privacy harms and the effectiveness of the notice
and choice framework. ISJLP, 11, 485–524.
Schaub, F., Balebako, R., Durity, A. L., & Cranor, L. F. (2015). A
design space for effective privacy notices. In Proceedings of
the 11th Symposium on Usable Privacy and Security (SOUPS)
(pp. 1–17). Berkeley, CA: USENIX.
Scheufele, D. A., & Tewksbury, D. (2007). Framing, agenda set-
ting, and priming: The evolution of three media effects models.
Journal of Communication, 57, 9–20.
Shade, L. R., & Shepherd, T. (2013). Viewing youth and mobile
privacy through a digital policy literacy framework. First
Monday, 18(12). Retrieved from http://firstmonday.org/ojs/
index.php/fm/article/view/4807/3798
Solove, D. J. (2012). Introduction: Privacy self-management and
the consent dilemma. Harvard Law Review, 126, 1880–1903.
Turow, J., Hennessy, M., & Draper, N. (2015). The trade off fallacy:
How marketers are misrepresenting American consumers and
opening them up to exploitation. Retrieved from https://repository.
upenn.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1554&context=asc_papers
14
Wilson, S., Schaub, F., Ramanath, R., Sadeh, N., Liu, F., Smith, N. A.,
& Liu, F. (2016, April). Crowdsourcing annotations for websites’
privacy policies: Can it really work? In Proceedings of the 25th
International Conference on World Wide Web (pp. 133–143).
New York, NY: ACM.
Author Biographies
Jonathan A. Obar (PhD, The Pennsylvania State University) is
an assistant professor in the Department of Communication
Studies at York University. His research focuses on information
and communication policy and the relationship between digital
Social Media + Society
technologies, civil liberties, and the inclusiveness of public
culture.
Anne Oeldorf-Hirsch (PhD, The Pennsylvania State University) is
an assistant professor in the Department of Communication at
University of Connecticut. Her research focuses on information
sharing as a form of communication in online social networks, with
a specific emphasis on the features of communication technology
that alter communication norms. Specifically, her work investigates
the effects of social media activities such as news discussion, con-
tent sharing, and self-disclosure on outcomes such as engagement,
learning, and well-being.