The flatlands of Oakland is where the city’s digital divide is most pronounced. From West Oakland all the way into deep East Oakland, areas with the highest concentration of low-income residents, an estimated 37,000 households do not have high-quality access to the internet. While nearby Silicon Valley money has made the price of real estate and rent soar in this East Bay city of 433,000, the quality of internet access has remained stagnant.
#OaklandUndivided, a nonprofit digital equity organization that has been working with the city to bridge Oakland’s digital divide since the onset of the pandemic, has described the city’s internet infrastructure as “archaic and poorly maintained,” with wiring dating back to the 1980s. The group likens the lack of broadband access for Oakland residents to lacking electricity or clean running water.
Georgia Savage, the deputy director of #OaklandUndivided, puts it in blunter terms: “This is modern day redlining.”
For decades, real estate companies refused to offer mortgages to people with the wrong skin complexion, depriving generations of Black Americans of the wealth-building advantages of homeownership. The government was complicit in this, drawing maps that restricted federal insurance programs to houses outside Black neighborhoods. Savage and countless other digital equity advocates say a similar practice is now a defining feature of broadband service, one that is not unique to Oakland.
Underinvestment and second-rate service can be found in most cities across the nation, where regional monopoly internet service providers (ISPs) cherry-pick who they will serve, focusing investments in more affluent areas where they expect to reap the biggest (and quickest) profits for shareholders. It has created a broken broadband market in which households with a good internet connection are more likely to have a choice of ISPs, while economically disadvantaged neighborhoods are left with only one choice: expensive, spotty service, or nothing.
A 2022 report commissioned by the California Community Foundation laid bare this “systemic discrimination” in broadband service by looking at neighborhoods in Los Angeles. In the more well-to-do Willowbrook neighborhood, with a poverty rate of just 8 percent, Charter Spectrum (the city’s dominant monopoly provider) offered its “Internet Ultra” plan for $30 per month. Just a mile or so north, on the other side of the 105 Freeway in the Watts neighborhood, which has a 31 percent poverty rate, that same plan was being offered for $70 per month. More detailed investigations have yielded similar results nationwide.
Digital equity advocates say a practice similar to redlining in the housing market is now a defining feature of broadband service, one that is not unique to Oakland.
While some debate whether these business practices amount to “digital redlining”—or what the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) calls “digital discrimination”—digital equity advocates in cities across the nation call it unacceptable.
It would be reasonable to think the Biden administration’s $1.2 trillion bipartisan infrastructure law, passed by Congress in November 2021, would change all of this. A significant part of the law devotes $65 billion to a moon shot mission, involving all 50 states and U.S. territories, to bridge the digital divide once and for all. It includes funding to build new modern networks, and other programs to address barriers to broadband adoption, like the Affordable Connectivity Program, which helps eligible low-income households pay for pricey internet bills, as well as initiatives that offer digital skills training and a mandate for the FCC to adopt rules “to prevent and eliminate digital discrimination.”
Similar to when the federal government set out to bring electricity to every household in America a century ago, the Biden administration intends to do the same with broadband, labeling this historic investment the “Internet for All” initiative.
But what hasn’t dawned on most federal and state lawmakers—or at least, it has not been admitted publicly—is that the trajectory we are on will not lead to Internet for All, but something more like Internet for Some.
Mapping Ourselves to Failure
To understand why requires a closer look at the infrastructure law, as well as the FCC’s faulty broadband availability maps.
The law requires new broadband networks built with federal infrastructure funds to first be spent in areas the FCC deems “unserved” by any broadband provider. Almost all of those locations are in rural communities, where the physical networks are largely absent. Only after all “unserved” locations are served can the funds be spent on “underserved” areas—places where minimal broadband service is available but not adequate to meet the rising demand for speed and bandwidth.
While it is true that rural communities often lack the physical networks to provide broadband service, and that rural broadband ought to be a critical part of any build-out, those bearing the brunt of the digital divide actually live in urban areas. As reported by The New York Times, “about 81 percent of rural households are plugged into broadband, compared with about 86 percent in urban areas, according to Census Bureau data. But the number of urban households without a connection, 13.6 million, is almost three times as big as the 4.6 million rural households that don’t have one.”
Here’s where the FCC’s notoriously inaccurate maps come into play. The maps were used to determine how much federal broadband infrastructure money will be allocated to each state, based on ISP self-reporting of the number of unserved and underserved locations in each state. These maps also will guide states in determining where to target the investments. But little is done to validate the ISP data.
Brandon Miyasaki/Shot Archives
#OaklandUndivided Director Patrick Messac notes that the broadband maps used to plan public investment “systematically benefit wealthy communities at the expense of underserved neighborhoods.”
To take one example, California is poised to receive $1.86 billion from the infrastructure law’s $42.5 billion Broadband Equity, Access, and Deployment (BEAD) program. Combining its BEAD dollars with state funds and money left over from the American Rescue Plan Act, the Golden State is embarking on an impressive $6 billion plan to shore up broadband access across the state. Central to California’s approach is the construction of an extensive “middle mile network”—a key part of the internet’s connective tissue that dramatically lowers the cost for ISPs to deploy “last mile” service to individual homes and businesses.
But when you look at the broadband maps the state is using to make investment decisions, it’s easy to see why digital equity advocates are waving huge red flags. A series of updates to the state’s broadband maps pinpointing where California intends to build new network infrastructure have vastly, and laughably, misrepresented the reality on the ground. For example, Beverly Hills is shown on the maps to be more needy than South Central Los Angeles.
The infrastructure law does provide a challenge process that theoretically could make the maps more accurate. But in reality, it puts the burden of proof on the most vulnerable communities to do all the work navigating the complex data collection processes necessary to file a challenge.
To add insult to injury, over the summer state officials quietly announced they were making significant cuts to the expansion plan. Citing inflation and rising construction costs, the state’s new budget calls for a 17 percent cut in planned broadband investment.
“While only 17 percent of the statewide (middle mile) network would be cut, Oakland’s proposed network was slashed by approximately 56 percent, and South Central Los Angeles’s by 77 percent. That’s a $28 million divestment in public dollars from two of the least connected areas of the state,” #OaklandUndivided Director Patrick Messac explains.
The broadband maps used to direct investment, Messac adds, “systematically benefit wealthy communities at the expense of underserved neighborhoods. The state knows it, but plans to move forward anyway, even though the state’s own findings show private companies prioritize investment in high-income communities. It would be shameful for the state to do the same.”
No BEAD Love in the Heart of the City
As states have been putting together their BEAD proposals, major metro areas and even suburban communities are beginning to recognize that the bulk of the funds are going for rural broadband, because densely populated areas are considered mostly served by the FCC maps, even if those cities and towns are “served” by a monopoly provider that offers a patchwork of unreliable, high-cost service.
The FCC has been of little assistance here. On the two-year anniversary of the infrastructure law, the agency announced rules to prevent digital discrimination. Over the objections of the Big Cable and Telecom lobby, the new rules allow the FCC to fine ISPs for practices that have a “disparate impact” on subscribers, like offering worse service or fewer options in historically marginalized communities.
But here’s the kicker: The fines can only be imposed if such conduct is “not justified by genuine issues of technical or economic feasibility,” as determined by the FCC on a case-by-case basis. And of course, none of this applies to states’ decision-making on where broadband infrastructure investments are made. So this won’t help redirect funds to minority-serving urban areas, where they are badly needed.
Given the cozy relationship the FCC has historically had with the big monopoly providers, it would be surprising for the agency to penalize ISPs for digital discrimination—especially after the industry’s army of lawyers and technical advisers insist that some of their subscribers, who just happen to be mostly Black and brown, get worse service and fewer options because of “genuine issues of technical or economic feasibility.”
Increasingly, cities are weighing what other options they have to deliver reliable and affordable broadband. Many are turning to municipal or other community broadband approaches, treating high-speed internet infrastructure like a utility. Cities like Chattanooga, Tennessee; Longmont and Loveland, Colorado; and hundreds of other communities have adopted this approach, finding that it almost always offers subscribers faster, more reliable and affordable service.
Brandon Miyasaki/Shot Archives
People demonstrate as part of #OaklandUndivided's day of action outside a meeting of the California Broadband Council, October 25, 2023, in Sacramento, California.
President Biden, who unlike his predecessor managed to get an infrastructure law done with a significant sum for broadband build-out, did have the foresight to initially call for an infrastructure law that prioritized municipal broadband and other forms of publicly owned, locally controlled broadband infrastructure. But in the sausage-making that led to the final bill, Congress not only removed that as a priority, they also allowed preemption statutes to remain in place in the 17 states that discourage municipal broadband, with laws to protect monopoly providers from competition.
With many states having already allocated their much more flexible American Rescue Plan dollars for other priorities—and with few BEAD dollars being funneled into nonrural communities—more densely populated cities and towns will be left to compete for the leftover scraps as they scramble for other pathways to fill the gaps.
In Cleveland, dubbed America’s “worst-connected city,” city leaders quickly came to grips with the fact that very little, if any, of Ohio’s $793 million BEAD allocation will make it their way. It’s why the Cleveland City Council recently awarded $20 million of its American Rescue Plan dollars to the nonprofit social enterprise DigitalC to build a citywide network that will deliver high-speed internet access to subscribers for just $18 a month.
“This is the digital civil rights equivalent,” DigitalC CEO Joshua Edmonds said during a recent keynote address on the city’s efforts. “We are lying to ourselves if we are not going to give this moment that level of significance. For those who have been on the fence, now is the time to get engaged.”
Getting engaged is exactly what’s going on in Massachusetts, which is getting a comparatively paltry sum of $147 million in BEAD funds. Communities across the Commonwealth are eager to bring better broadband to their residents. Unfortunately, the FCC maps indicate the state’s urban and suburban centers are well served by monopoly providers like Comcast Xfinity. Just don’t tell that to local elected officials, who are constantly hearing from constituents about unreliable, costly internet service and a lack of choice, which is what led to over two dozen cities and towns forming the Massachusetts Broadband Coalition (MBC).
In announcing the formation of the group, MBC founder and Fairhaven Selectman Robert Espindola noted how all of its members share a common concern: “No doubt the common theme is: There’s no competition. That’s how it started in Fairhaven for us. When we were negotiating our [franchise] agreement with Comcast, people in the community were asking: Why can’t we get competition?’”
Who’s Afraid of the M-Word?
The short answer to “Why can’t we get competition?” is that federal and state lawmakers refuse to grapple with the glaring fact that a handful of monopoly ISPs—which also happen to be among the most hated companies in the country—have a stranglehold on both policymakers and the broadband market itself, leaving subscribers stuck with unreliable, expensive service. According to the California Public Utilities Commission (CPUC), 97.7 percent of California households with broadband internet access get it from one of just five companies: Charter Spectrum, Comcast Xfinity, Frontier, Cox, or AT&T. And many have no choice between even those limited options; internet and cable companies are notorious for carving up territory, limiting competition among themselves.
Oakland resident Brandy Huffman is one of those trapped by a single provider. She exemplifies why even the infrastructure law’s Affordable Connectivity Program, which offers a $30 monthly discount to eligible low-income households, doesn’t mean much if the service from the only ISP available isn’t reliable.
Huffman shared her struggle at a recent California Broadband Council meeting, introducing herself to state officials as “the people you are trying to reach.” She explained how she lives in subsidized housing with her children, and pays more for internet service than she does for rent.
Her son is a straight-A student at the Oakland Military Institute. But recently, she explained, his grade dropped to a B because their Comcast internet service went down for a week. “He’s looking at me, and I’m looking at him,” she recalled, voice trembling with emotion. “I’m doing my best. I’m calling customer service. I’m calling everybody, to the point I’m in tears because I can’t help my son. I’m asking y’all for help. We need working, affordable Wi-Fi.”
For all the ink spilled in voluminous state BEAD proposals, the word “monopoly” is hardly mentioned. Peruse any of the state’s BEAD plans and you’ll get a master class in avoiding what lies at the heart of the digital divide: monopoly concentration, especially in cities. With new public investment going to the wrong areas and expensive, substandard service still in place in cities like Oakland, Los Angeles, and Cleveland, it’s hard to conceive how we, as a nation, will get to Internet for All.
And then there’s the question of where competition will come from, which has created a “careful what you wish for” moment: Fiber-optic networks for community broadband, instead of being installed through public utilities, are increasingly being carried out by firms backed by the private equity industry.
President Biden’s initial vision of beefing up America’s internet infrastructure, while prioritizing ways to bring in more competition and thereby lower the cost of internet service for subscribers everywhere, has become a historical footnote. So it shouldn’t surprise anyone when a decade from now, millions of Americans are still without access to broadband, and the Internet for All initiative feels more like an aspirational marketing slogan than a serious effort.
Still, digital equity advocates like Patrick Messac at #OaklandUndivided continue to press on.
“We feel so much urgency to get this multibillion-dollar investment right,” he said, “because it’s unlikely to come around again in our lifetime.”
