************************************************************** * * * CYBERSPACE * * A biweekly column on net culture appearing * * in the Toronto Sunday Sun * * * * Copyright 2000 Karl Mamer * * Free for online distribution * * All Rights Reserved * * Direct comments and questions to: * * * * * ************************************************************** Micronations making a big splash In the early days of the net, individuals with nutty ideas tended to be encouraged. This was before high speed net access and MP3s so people needed something to keep themselves entertained online. One of the seemingly nuttier ideas to emerge on the net, and helped along by amused netizens, was a plan for the creation of a new country. A group called the Atlantis Project, based in Las Vegas, started using the Internet in 1994 to promote the construction a floating, sovereign city state in international Caribbean waters. The project was led by a man named Eric Klien. It seems he was pissed off when he discovered election fraud at all levels of American government. Klien attempted to expose this massive deceit but he was stopped by death threats and intimidation at ever turn. Election officials even told him they were too tired to look at his five boxes filled with smoking-gun evidence. His solution, simply enough, was to build a new nation. He correctly assessed no "collectivist" state on earth would sell him land. Lots of banana republic dictators probably read Lord of the Flies in their college days at Harvard. As well, after Jonestown, letting Americans carve out Utopias in your backwater swamps fell out of fashion. Klien's nation, Oceania, would be an artificially constructed floating island anchored outside of the Hurricane belt. It would only cost a few billion dollars to build. Netizens love a good conspiracy story. But what really gets Netizens excited is when someone's response to a conspiracy is a massive engineering project. This was no nutter who spends a couple years plastering phone polls with tracts loaded with Bible quotes. A mail list, a newsgroup, and then a web page (www.oceania.org) were started to promote Klien's Atlantis Project and get the word out that you too could be a founding father of a new nation for the low price of $250. You didn't have to pick up a musket and face down red coats. You just had to mail a check made out to a guy in Vegas, send him two passport photos, and you're an instant citizen and patriarch. There was no indication how much it would cost to have your profile minted on Oceania's coinage. Of course, you can't fund a multi-billion dollar floating island by getting a couple thousand people to send you $250. The Atlantis Project wanted to attract savvy, big money backers who would be eager to set up a business in a country with a strict constitutional separation between the free market and the state. Did you want engage in regulation free banking or conduct medical experiments in an atmosphere free of laws based on someone's outdated ethics? As the web page's FAQ notes, Oceania would not be a land where lawyers and legislators could tamper with your sanctity! So go for it, dude. In 1994, Klien predicted construction would soon get underway on Oceania. After all, Boating magazine did a story on the Atlantis Project. There was no where to go but up. Unfortunately, by 1995, financial disarray set in. In what was an ironic twist of fate, plans collapsed when the project's backers, people pledged to forging a land where lawyers couldn't tamper with your sanctity, began suing each other. While surely the Atlantis Project's failure can be blamed on mismanagement, the idea was also slightly ahead of its time and overly ambitious. As we've seen with a number of dot.com failures, being the first to market with a grandiose scheme is a guarantee of failure. The computer industry is like a corral reef. The success stories are built on corporate corpses. A fledgling island nation making a big splash lately is Sealand. Sealand is a former World War II gun platform the Brits built in international waters in the North Sea. In 1966 a British husband-and-wife team bought it. They hoisted a flag, called their cement island "Sealand", and declared themselves a new nation. Sealand's founders have won a number of battles in British courts over the sovereignty of Sealand. Courts have thrown out numerous suits against Sealand's "royal family", each time ruling Britain has no jurisdiction over anyone or anything in international waters. Although it initially raised funds through the sale of passports and stamps, plus a pirate radio station, Sealand has recently signed an agreement with a company called Havenco (www.havenco.com) to become a data warehousing centre. Futurists have been predicting for a while there will one day be a large demand for places where companies and individuals can store data free of all sorts of crazy censorship laws. As the net blurs traditional borders, we're beginning to see conflicts in areas like community standards and notions of what's fair use. Adult material considered tame by New Yorkers is obscene in Alabama. Will information in North America and Europe ultimately have to be watered down so as not to offend the most conservative community? The US is trying to pass laws to ensure online information doesn't get hog tied in just that manner but those of a libertarian bent aren't waiting around. They view Sealand and other emerging micronations (future buzzword alert!) like Tonga and Nauru as possible and welcome havens.