<!DOCTYPE article PUBLIC "-//NLM//DTD JATS (Z39.96) Journal Archiving and Interchange DTD v1.0 20120330//EN" "JATS-archivearticle1.dtd">
<article xmlns:xlink="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink">
  <front>
    <journal-meta>
      <issn pub-type="ppub">1613-0073</issn>
    </journal-meta>
    <article-meta>
      <title-group>
        <article-title>Somewhere: Shifting Expertise in Identifying and Evaluating Dark Patterns</article-title>
      </title-group>
      <contrib-group>
        <contrib contrib-type="author">
          <string-name>Rohan Grover</string-name>
          <email>rohan.grover@usc.edu</email>
          <xref ref-type="aff" rid="aff0">0</xref>
        </contrib>
        <aff id="aff0">
          <label>0</label>
          <institution>University of Southern California</institution>
          ,
          <addr-line>Los Angeles, California</addr-line>
          ,
          <country country="US">United States</country>
        </aff>
      </contrib-group>
      <abstract>
        <p>Regulatory responses to dark patterns often rely on expert assessments of design interfaces to evaluate whether users are being subjected to manipulation or deception. In this article, I unpack expert assessments of dark patterns used to solicit user consent and argue that regulatory action should explicitly reckon with questions about whose expertise is consulted. I conclude by discussing how deliberative mechanisms can be valuable for expanding the range of both experts and modes of expertise in identifying, evaluating, and ultimately regulating dark patterns.</p>
      </abstract>
      <kwd-group>
        <kwd>consent</kwd>
        <kwd>dark patterns</kwd>
        <kwd>data privacy</kwd>
        <kwd>expertise</kwd>
        <kwd>feminist theory</kwd>
      </kwd-group>
    </article-meta>
  </front>
  <body>
    <sec id="sec-1">
      <title>-</title>
      <p>CEUR
ceur-ws.org</p>
    </sec>
    <sec id="sec-2">
      <title>1. Introduction</title>
      <p>You click on a link to a news article. A new tab opens in your browser and a web page renders.
You begin reading the headline when a pop-up module appears, obscuring the text. The module
confronts you with a menu of toggle switches about various types of cookies. Strictly necessary:
https://www.rohangrover.org/ (R. Grover)</p>
      <p>© 2024 Copyright for this paper by its authors. Use permitted under Creative Commons License Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0).
perspectives and experiences in identifying and curbing manipulative and deceptive design
practices.</p>
      <p>
        One explanation for disparate outcomes is that individuals lack access to information and
skills to develop informed decisions about online privacy—in other words, they lack privacy
literacy [
        <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ref3">3</xref>
        ]. According to this framework, based on the knowledge gap hypothesis, increasing
individuals’ knowledge of online privacy will improve their privacy behaviors and outcomes [
        <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ref4">4</xref>
        ].
Some examples of categories of knowledge that contribute to online privacy literacy include
awareness of technical aspects of data collection, about laws related to data protection, and
about user strategies for exercising privacy [
        <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ref3">3</xref>
        ].
      </p>
      <p>
        This framework is premised on a rational model of privacy behavior: new, relevant knowledge
will lead to better informed decisions. However, empirical evidence also suggests that a suficient
level of privacy literacy may never be attainable because it simply may not exist given the rapid
development of new technologies and design practices. For example, a nationally representative
survey in the US demonstrated that individuals lacked the knowledge to meaningfully consent
to data collection, raising the question of whether consent can and should continue to serve as
a legally valid basis for companies to collect personal data [
        <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ref5">5</xref>
        ]. In other words, privacy literacy
may be so deficient that there is little hope that the public can ever catch up.
      </p>
      <p>
        The framework is also premised on a contested understanding of privacy as an individual
value. Instead, privacy scholars have advocated for recognizing privacy as a fundamentally social
phenomenon–especially in the case of information privacy [
        <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ref6">6, 7, 8, 9, 10</xref>
        ]. Indeed, scholars have
argued that individualizing privacy—both as a right and as a behavioral prescription—capitulates
to the depoliticizing impulse of “digital resignation” [11, 12] cultivated by the architecture of
contemporary “platform societies” [13, 14, 15]. These critiques suggest that solutions should not
necessarily be found in training or empowering individuals but rather in addressing structural
conditions.
      </p>
      <p>These latent values and assumptions are embedded in how the opening anecdote was framed–
as a case of individual responsibility and deficient literacy. But this interpretation is not
inevitable. What might an alternative reading look like?</p>
      <p>In this article, I argue that evaluating and explicitly accounting for expertise can help address
the contested premises of the privacy literacy model in identifying, evaluating, and ultimately
regulating dark patterns. This intervention responds to regulatory models that often rely
on expert assessments of design interfaces to evaluate whether users are being subjected to
manipulation or deception. Specifically, I examine and unpack expert assessments of user
consent by drawing on two bodies of scholarship—evaluating technical expertise and feminist
analysis of consent—and then I outline an emergent model for governing dark patterns based
on deliberative mechanisms. I conclude by arguing that regulatory action should explicitly
reckon with questions of whose expertise-and in what form-is consulted and included by HCI
scholarship and policy advice.</p>
    </sec>
    <sec id="sec-3">
      <title>2. The Relevance of Expertise</title>
      <p>Expertise is a complex analytic developed largely by sociologists and science and technology
studies (STS) scholars to account for various experiences and controversies over claims to
(especially scientific) knowledge. An intuitive understanding—which largely aligns with the
definition of privacy literacy above—may interpret expertise to be specialized knowledge,
skills, or abilities in a particular domain possessed by an individual. However, this definition
has been scrutinized and subjected to symmetrical analysis by also understanding expertise
as a social construction. The latter conceptualization has helped scholars consider how and
whether expertise can and should be democratized and deconstructed by, for example, evaluating
scientific knowledge on the same terms as other forms of knowledge. Altogether, however,
prior literature does not agree on a single definition that captures what expertise is as much as
it has demonstrated various ways in which expertise is a valuable tool to expand and refine
analysis. These debates have also opened up distinct but related normative questions about
what the role of expertise should be. In this section, I identify key elements of this debate and
demonstrate how they can be applied to privacy literacy and governing dark patterns.</p>
      <p>One key distinction in understanding expertise is identifying it as either an attribute or
an attribution. As an attribute, expertise refers to knowledge, skills, or abilities (henceforth,
“capabilities”) in a specific domain that can be possessed by an individual or community, similar
to the definition of privacy literacy described previously. Meanwhile, as an attribution, expertise
refers to a qualification recognized by others; it is thus a fundamentally relational dynamic that
depends on social recognition rather than objective or abstract truth [16]. In other words, these
approaches difer by locating expertise either “inside” or “outside” individuals [ 17].</p>
      <p>In the case of dark patterns, both definitions help to understand how expertise has been
operationalized in prior research, albeit implicitly. On one hand, content analyses of interfaces
often rely on credentialed researcher teams who draw on their domain knowledge to identify
whether design patterns qualify as manipulate or deceptive or not [18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23]. On the
other hand, user studies and experimental research identify dark patterns based on participants’
experiences and behaviors [24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30]. Thus, it appears that both kinds of
expertise–an as attribute organically possessed by all people and as an attribution earned
through recognition for relevant experience–are valued in empirical research on dark patterns.</p>
      <p>However, the question of which of these sources of expertise should be solicited, included, and
prioritized in research, governance, and policy is a key decision for HCI and policy communities.
On one level, it may be consequential in terms of leading to diferent outcomes: do users’ and
experts’ assessments align? Which users, specifically? Can users’ experiences be automated
through algorithmic or AI systems at scale?</p>
      <p>In addition, distinguishing between the two approaches to expertise can be consequential for
how and whether the public(s) is included. This is especially true when non-expert communities
disagree with expert assessments by asserting diferent forms of knowledge that are not
recognized as credentialed expertise [31]. A classic example is from the 1980s when AIDS activists
asserted their “lay expertise”–such as their familiarity with norms and practices among patient
communities that deviated from researchers’ expectations–to influence clinical trials, ultimately
working together with research teams to develop more robust and eficacious trials [ 32]. In
that case, patients had to invest in acquiring cultural competence by developing interactional
practices, learning new vocabulary, and accessing conferences so that credentialed medical
practitioners would take seriously their experiences and perspectives. Thus, “lay expertise” can
be a key source of local, embodied, subjective, or experiential knowledge, and either including
or excluding lay expertise carries epistemic and political implications.</p>
      <p>One way to address the potential value of lay expertise is to measure expertise not by an
individual’s credentials but rather according to the content of their knowledge. Harry Collins and
Robert Evans’s framework distinguishes expertise based on diferent forms of
knowledge—without referring to lay people or experts but rather to ubiquitous and specialist knowledge and
expertise [16]. In the first level, they distinguished ubiquitous expertise from specialist expertise.
Ubiquitous expertise refers to capabilities possessed by all members of a society, such as natural
language communication. Specialist expertise is further divided into the categories of ubiquitous
knowledge, interactional expertise, and contributory expertise. Ubiquitous knowledge refers to
“low levels” of knowledge that is ascertainable through activities such as reading or memorizing
but don’t require immersive experience. This includes information that could be studied and
evaluated in a game of trivia or the ability to recite facts about theoretical physics after reading
an article in the popular press. Interactional expertise, on the other hand, is “the ability to
master the language of a specialist domain in the absence of practical competence” (p. 14). For
example, a scholar may be able to peer review a journal manuscript even if it is only adjacent to
their area of specialty but not overlapping. Finally, contributory expertise is “what you need to
do an activity with competence” (p. 14) that is accepted by a mutually recognized community
of experts.</p>
      <p>
        Collins and Evans’s framework can serve as a rubric to evaluate privacy literacy as it relates
to detecting dark patterns. Privacy literacy is generally not a low-level form of ubiquitous
expertise or ubiquitous knowledge because, by definition, it is not an intuitive capability
naturally available to all people. Instead, it requires some education and training. This likely
qualifies as a form of interactional expertise, which is developed and assessed by meeting
standards and expectations. However, these expectations are not created in a vacuum; they are
“developed through socialization into a collectivity of expert practitioners, with the performance
judged by, and held accountable to, the standards of the relevant peer community” (p. 767) [16].
Thus, while privacy literacy in general has already been developed through specific mechanisms
such as survey questions [
        <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ref3 ref5">3, 5</xref>
        ], it is still being developed in the specific domain of regulating
dark patterns, where a peer community is currently in formation through eforts such as the
present workshop.
      </p>
    </sec>
    <sec id="sec-4">
      <title>3. Toward “A View From Somewhere”</title>
      <p>The contemporary moment–developing institutional structures such as standard definitions and
a formalized community–is a crucial moment for intentionally defining what forms of expertise
are centered in identifying, evaluating, and regulating dark patterns. After all, the definitions
and standards developed in this space will implicitly set inclusion and exclusion criteria which
may create barriers for particular categories of “lay” people–especially those with marginalized
identities. This includes marginalized identities that are often protected by statutory law, such
as age and physical ability in some jurisdictions, but also forms of marginalization such as
neurodiversity, caste, and class. To be clear, in developing this analysis the intent is not to take
away from the well-intentioned, analytically rigorous, and generous work pursued in the dark
patterns scholarly community. Instead, the goal is to step back and call attention to questions
relevant to any project or scholarly community–but especially when the opportunity and the
urgency for regulatory intervention is so imminent and broadly supported.</p>
      <p>In addition, these questions index a broader normative question about what the role of
diferent forms of expertise should be–in other words, whose expertise should count toward
identifying, evaluating, and regulating dark patterns (and technology policy more broadly)?
This question alludes to a public, political dilemma about whether expertise should be defined
and used to drive technocracy–in which decisions are made by experts entrusted to exercise
their unique technical knowledge–or participatory democracy–in which citizens are empowered
to scrutinize authority and contribute their (lay) expertise to public debates [17].</p>
      <p>A key concern about upholding professionalized technical expertise–and the technocracy
model in general–is that standards and definitions may be devitalized by structural power
dynamics such as corporate incentives for data accumulation. For example, when liable
companies translate data privacy laws into specific compliance procedures, the labor of interpreting
ambiguous requirements is often entrusted to software developers because of their presumed
technical expertise [33]. However, developers are often uncertain about how to proceed, and
thus rely on standards and managerial practices set by large institutions such as platform
companies that promote a vacuous interpretation of privacy to avoid disrupting their business
models that rely on nearly indiscriminate data collection [34]. For example, Alice Marwick
has identified the International Association of Privacy Professionals (IAPP) as an institutional
actor that has professionalized privacy work by developing norms, standards, and accreditation
resources that transform complex values about privacy into managerial procedures and project
management practices [35]. Marwick identities this perspective as a “view from nowhere” that
perpetuates existing power dynamics that favor corporate, institutional actors over shifting
structural relations.</p>
      <p>In this article, I take up this claim as a charge to uphold a situated analysis–a view from
somewhere–with explicit, intentional sensitivity to expertise and, by extension, power and
public participation. I argue that such an approach is crucial for defining whose expertise, and
in what form, will guide the identification and evaluation of dark patterns. Of course, where
that “somewhere” is located can originate from various theoretical perspectives with diferent
implications. Thus, in the following section, I discuss how feminist analysis of consent draws
attention to embodied subjectivity as a source of expertise.</p>
    </sec>
    <sec id="sec-5">
      <title>4. Feminist Analysis of Consent</title>
      <p>Soliciting individuals for valid consent is a key, commonly used mechanism for collecting
personal data that is permitted by data privacy laws such as the General Data Protection
Regulation (GDPR). In response, scholars have pursued empirical evaluations through algorithmic
audits and user studies of consent interfaces to determine whether the consent they collect is
“valid” and what are the resulting implications for user outcomes [25, 36, 37]. Collectively, these
studies illustrate a specific kind of expertise about what constitutes valid consent: an abstract,
formalized, often binary condition that can be evaluated at scale and through automated means.
Such studies have been instrumental for helping regulators identify targets for enforcement
action, but they represent a limited analysis of consent.</p>
      <p>
        Feminist scholars have long explored and unpacked consent as an analytic and argued that
consent is not a stable, discrete, binary, individual choice but rather a structural relation rooted
in subjectivity [
        <xref ref-type="bibr" rid="ref6">6, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45</xref>
        ]. For example, this has been applied to develop
a model of afirmative consent, such as the FRIES model, which was developed by Planned
Parenthood and defines “afirmative consent” according to five criteria: freely given, reversible,
informed, enthusiastic, and specific. Scholars and practitioners alike have advocated for adopting
the FRIES model to build and design consentful technologies and policy [44, 46].
      </p>
      <p>This conceptualization of consent shifts the nature of expertise from a rational abstraction to
an embodied subjectivity. For example, algorithmic methods evaluating consent interfaces at
scale and through automated means cannot meaningfully assess whether a design interface
solicits consent that is enthusiastic. This exemplary criterion of the FRIES model illustrates how
the impulse to evaluate consent at scale displaces embodied, subjectively afective experiences
of consent. In other words, algorithmic audits foreclose user subjectivity by focusing exclusively
on the accuracy of transmission and generally disregarding how consent traverses contexts and
mediates relations beyond users and their data–in other words, privacy as a social phenomenon,
as discussed previously. By emphasizing invalid consent at scale, then, algorithmic audits of data
privacy laws privilege institutional actors over users and their subjective, contextual, embodied
relationships to personal data.</p>
      <p>Some may argue that a “higher” standard of valid consent imposes excessive burden on
regulatory possibilities. However, the FRIES model is not necessarily a higher standard but
rather a model of consent founded on an altogether diferent premise. This can be seen through
each model’s relationship to expertise. A model of valid consent based on formal rules and
algorithmic evaluation understands consent as an explicit, abstract phenomenon, whereas the
FRIES model understands consent to be fundamentally tacit and practical; in other words,
consent is experiential, relational, and social. Another fundamental diference is that the
FRIES model is uniquely sensitive to structural conditions. Algorithmic audits and studies at
scale address structural inequalities by evaluating diferential outcomes across socioeconomic
demographic categories, especially protected categories such as race, age, or gender. However,
the FRIES model seeks to address structural injustice by holistically evaluating the quality of
consent according to its embodied integrity rather than simply the eficiency of its outcomes.</p>
    </sec>
    <sec id="sec-6">
      <title>5. Conclusion</title>
      <p>In this article, I have argued that the social construction of expertise is a relevant question that
merits scrutiny and debate among the professional community(ies) advocating for regulatory
action about dark patterns. I discussed several dimensions of expertise, including whether it
is an attribute or attribution, whether expertise is assigned according to mutual recognition
from an expert community or if it can be found within individuals, including “lay” people, and
whether the nature of relevant expertise is best represented through formal logic amenable
to algorithmic detection or as an experiential, relational, social phenomenon. I argued that
the stakes for defining expertise thoughtfully and intentionally are made clear by the open
question of whether standards and governance frameworks will perpetuate or reconfigure power
relations–in other words, whether they constitute “a view from nowhere” [35] or, alternatively,
a view from somewhere–and if so, where?</p>
      <p>To answer this question, I drew on feminist analysis of consent to advocate for considering
what the governance of dark patterns may look if it is based on alternative sites of expertise. In
particular, I argued that the FRIES model demonstrates how expertise can be found in embodied
subjectivity and afective experience in the context of sexual consent. Notably, the model is
applicable to individual interpersonal relationships and is not easily scalable. To some extent,
refusing scalability is part of the point of foregrounding the FRIES model. It is necessarily
contingent, relational, and dynamic.</p>
      <p>But on a practical level, in terms of regulatory governance, this argument points to
opportunities beyond standards for automated detection. For example, under the FRIES model, consent
is reversible and enthusiastic. In practice, these criteria necessitate a continuous, relational
dialogue among the involved actors. Consent is not a binary variable that can be switched
on in perpetuity. Instead, it is a contingent condition of the relationship among actors. Thus,
identifying violations of consent cannot be reduced to tracing the decision point and assessing
the validity of the initial consent decision. Instead, its continuous legitimacy must be agreed
upon through discovery.</p>
      <p>What might this look like for the regulation of dark patterns? Rather than developing
universal standards, a feminist analysis of expertise and consent may suggest a deliberative
approach to identification and evaluation. For example, dark patterns could be identified
by juries constituted by the public and/or civil society organizations that represent diferent
marginalized perspectives. Such a model would locate expertise in the experiences of various
public(s) rather than the privacy literacy or technical proficiency of individual technocrats.
Such a model would constitute “a view from somewhere”–and would locate the “somewhere”
in the experiences of marginalized identities to contest structural power relations in technology
companies and interfaces.
[7] H. Nissenbaum, Privacy in Context: Technology, Policy, and the Integrity of Social Life,</p>
      <p>Stanford University Press, 2009.
[8] A. E. Waldman, Privacy as Trust: Information Privacy for an Information Age, Cambridge</p>
      <p>University Press, 2018.</p>
      <p>[9] D. J. Solove, Understanding Privacy, Harvard University Press, 2010.
[10] H. Nissenbaum, Privacy as contextual integrity, Washington Law Review 79 (2004)
119–158.
[11] N. A. Draper, J. Turow, The corporate cultivation of digital resignation, New Media &amp;</p>
      <p>Society 21 (2019) 1824–1839. doi:10.1177/1461444819833331.
[12] S. Gürses, A. Kundnani, J. Van Hoboken, Crypto and empire: The contradictions of
counter-surveillance advocacy, Media, Culture &amp; Society 38 (2016) 576–590. doi:10.1177/
0163443716643006.
[13] P. Helm, S. Seubert, Normative paradoxes of privacy: Literacy and choice in platform
societies, Surveillance &amp; Society 18 (2020) 185–198. doi:10.24908/ss.v18i2.13356.
[14] N. Srnicek, Platform Capitalism, John Wiley &amp; Sons, 2017.
[15] D. J. Solove, The myth of the privacy paradox, The Geoge Washington Law Review 89
(2021) 1–51.
[16] H. Collins, R. Evans, Rethinking Expertise, University of Chicago Press, 2019.
[17] G. Eyal, The Crisis of Expertise, John Wiley &amp; Sons, 2019.
[18] H. Habib, Y. Zou, A. Jannu, N. Sridhar, C. Swoopes, A. Acquisti, L. F. Cranor, N. Sadeh,
F. Schaub, An empirical analysis of data deletion and {Opt-Out} choices on 150 websites,
in: Proceedings of the Fifteenth USENIX Conference on Usable Privacy and Security,
SOUPS’19, 2019, pp. 387–406. doi:10.5555/3361476.3361505.
[19] A. Mathur, G. Acar, M. J. Friedman, E. Lucherini, J. Mayer, M. Chetty, A. Narayanan, Dark
patterns at scale: Findings from a crawl of 11k shopping websites, Proceedings of the
ACM on Human-Computer Interaction 3 (2019). doi:10.1145/3359183.
[20] I. Sanchez-Rola, M. Dell’Amico, P. Kotzias, D. Balzarotti, L. Bilge, P.-A. Vervier, I. Santos,
Can I opt out yet? GDPR and the global illusion of cookie control, in: Proceedings of the
2019 ACM Asia Conference on Computer and Communications Security, Asia CCS ’19,
2019, pp. 340–351. doi:10.1145/3321705.3329806.
[21] T. H. Soe, O. E. Nordberg, F. Guribye, M. Slavkovik, Circumvention by design-dark patterns
in cookie consent for online news outlets, in: Proceedings of the 11th Nordic Conference
on Human-Computer Interaction: Shaping Experiences, Shaping Society, NordiCHI ’20,
2020. doi:10.1145/3419249.3420132.
[22] C. M. Gray, C. Santos, N. Bielova, M. Toth, D. Cliford, Dark patterns and the legal
requirements of consent banners: An interaction criticism perspective, in: Proceedings
of the 2021 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, CHI ’21, 2021.
doi:10.1145/3411764.3445779.
[23] C. Matte, N. Bielova, C. Santos, Do cookie banners respect my choice?: Measuring legal
compliance of banners from IAB Europe’s Transparency and Consent Framework, in: 2020
IEEE Symposium on Security and Privacy, 2020, pp. 791–809. doi:10.1109/SP40000.2020.
00076.
[24] H. Habib, S. Pearman, J. Wang, Y. Zou, A. Acquisti, L. F. Cranor, N. Sadeh, F. Schaub, ”It’s a
scavenger hunt”: Usability of websites’ opt-out and data deletion choices, in: Proceedings
of the 2020 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, CHI ’20, 2020.
doi:10.1145/3313831.3376511.
[25] C. Utz, M. Degeling, S. Fahl, F. Schaub, T. Holz, (Un)informed consent: Studying GDPR
consent notices in the field, in: Proceedings of the 2019 ACM SIGSAC Conference on
Computer and Communications Security, CCS ’19, 2019, pp. 973–990. doi:10.1145/3319535.
3354212.
[26] D. Machuletz, R. Böhme, Multiple purposes, multiple problems: A user study of consent
dialogs after GDPR, in: Proceedings on Privacy Enhancing Technologies, PETS ’20, 2020,
pp. 481–498. doi:10.2478/popets-2020-0037.
[27] P. Graßl, H. Schrafenberger, F. Zuiderveen Borgesius, M. Buijzen, Dark and bright patterns
in cookie consent requests, Journal of Digital Social Research 3 (2021). doi:10.33621/
jdsr.v3i1.54.
[28] C. M. Gray, J. Chen, S. S. Chivukula, L. Qu, End user accounts of dark patterns as
felt manipulation, Proceedings of the ACM on Human-Computer Interaction 5 (2021).
doi:10.1145/3479516.
[29] A. M. Bhoot, M. A. Shinde, W. P. Mishra, Towards the identification of dark patterns:
An analysis based on end-user reactions, in: Proceedings of the 11th Indian Conference
on Human-Computer Interaction, IndiaHCI ’20, 2020, pp. 24–33. doi:10.1145/3429290.
3429293.
[30] K. Bongard-Blanchy, A. Rossi, S. Rivas, S. Doublet, V. Koenig, G. Lenzini, ”I am definitely
manipulated, even when I am aware of it. It’s ridiculous!” - Dark patterns from the end-user
perspective, in: Proceedings of the 2021 ACM Designing Interactive Systems Conference,
DIS ’21, 2021, pp. 763–776. doi:10.1145/3461778.3462086.
[31] B. Wynne, May the sheep safely graze? a reflexive view of the expert-lay knowledge
divide, in: S. Lash, B. Szerszynski, B. Wynne (Eds.), Risk, Environment and Modernity:
Towards a New Ecology, Sage, 1996, pp. 44–83.
[32] S. Epstein, The construction of lay expertise: AIDS activism and the forging of credibility
in the reform of clinical trials, Science, Technology, &amp; Human values 20 (1995) 408–437.
doi:10.1177/016224399502000402.
[33] R. Grover, Encoding privacy: Sociotechnical dynamics of data protection compliance work,
in: Proceedings of the 2024 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems,
CHI ’24, 2024. doi:10.1145/3613904.3642872.
[34] A. E. Waldman, Industry Unbound: The Inside Story of Privacy, Data, and Corporate</p>
      <p>Power, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, UK, 2021.
[35] A. Marwick, Privacy without power: What privacy research can learn from surveillance
studies, Surveillance &amp; Society 20 (2022) 397–405. doi:10.24908/ss.v20i4.16009.
[36] H. Habib, M. Li, E. Young, L. Cranor, “Okay, whatever”: An evaluation of cookie consent
interfaces, in: Proceedings of the 2022 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing
Systems, CHI ’22, 2022. doi:10.1145/3491102.3501985.
[37] M. Nouwens, I. Liccardi, M. Veale, D. Karger, L. Kagal, Dark patterns after the GDPR:
Scraping consent pop-ups and demonstrating their influence, in: Proceedings of the 2020
CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, CHI ’20, 2020. doi:10.1145/
3313831.3376321.
[38] R. Bauer, Queer BDSM Intimacies: Critical Consent and Pushing Boundaries, Springer,
2014.
[39] J. E. Cohen, What privacy is for, Harvard Law Review 126 (2012) 1904.
[40] A. Fanghanel, Asking for it: BDSM sexual practice and the trouble of consent, Sexualities
23 (2020) 269–286. doi:10.1177/1363460719828933.
[41] J. Friedman, J. Valenti, Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World</p>
      <p>Without Rape, Seal Press, 2019.
[42] J. Im, J. Dimond, M. Berton, U. Lee, K. Mustelier, M. S. Ackerman, E. Gilbert, Yes: Afirmative
consent as a theoretical framework for understanding and imagining social platforms, in:
Proceedings of the 2021 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems, CHI
’21, 2021. doi:10.1145/3411764.3445778.
[43] A. Kovacs, T. Jain, Informed Consent-Said Who? A Feminist Perspective on Principles of</p>
      <p>Consent in the Age of Embodied Data, Report, Data Governance Network, 2020.
[44] Y. Strengers, J. Sadowski, Z. Li, A. Shimshak, F. ’Floyd’Mueller, What can HCI learn from
sexual consent? A feminist process of embodied consent for interactions with emerging
technologies, in: Proceedings of the 2021 CHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing
Systems, CHI ’21, 2021. doi:10.1145/3411764.3445107.
[45] J. T. Theilen, A. Baur-Ahrens, F. Bieker, R. Ammicht Quinn, M. Hansen, G. González Fuster,
Feminist data protection: An introduction, Internet Policy Review 10 (2021) 1–26. doi:10.
14763/2021.4.1609.
[46] U. Lee, D. Tolliver, Building Consentful Tech, Report, Allied Media Projects, 2017.</p>
    </sec>
  </body>
  <back>
    <ref-list>
      <ref id="ref1">
        <mixed-citation>
          [1]
          <string-name>
            <given-names>M.</given-names>
            <surname>Madden</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>M.</given-names>
            <surname>Gilman</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>K.</given-names>
            <surname>Levy</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>A.</given-names>
            <surname>Marwick</surname>
          </string-name>
          , Privacy, poverty, and
          <article-title>big data: A matrix of vulnerabilities for poor americans</article-title>
          , Washington University Law Review
          <volume>95</volume>
          (
          <year>2017</year>
          )
          <fpage>53</fpage>
          .
        </mixed-citation>
      </ref>
      <ref id="ref2">
        <mixed-citation>
          [2]
          <string-name>
            <given-names>Y. J.</given-names>
            <surname>Park</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <article-title>Digital literacy and privacy behavior online</article-title>
          ,
          <source>Communication Research</source>
          <volume>40</volume>
          (
          <year>2013</year>
          )
          <fpage>215</fpage>
          -
          <lpage>236</lpage>
          .
        </mixed-citation>
      </ref>
      <ref id="ref3">
        <mixed-citation>
          [3]
          <string-name>
            <given-names>S.</given-names>
            <surname>Trepte</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>D.</given-names>
            <surname>Teutsch</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>P. K.</given-names>
            <surname>Masur</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>C.</given-names>
            <surname>Eicher</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>M.</given-names>
            <surname>Fischer</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>A.</given-names>
            <surname>Hennhöfer</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>F.</given-names>
            <surname>Lind</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <article-title>Do people know about privacy and data protection strategies? towards the “online privacy literacy scale” (OPLIS)</article-title>
          , in: S. Gutwirth,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>R.</given-names>
            <surname>Leenes</surname>
          </string-name>
          , P. de Hert (Eds.),
          <source>Reforming European Data Protection Law</source>
          , Springer,
          <year>2015</year>
          , pp.
          <fpage>333</fpage>
          -
          <lpage>365</lpage>
          .
        </mixed-citation>
      </ref>
      <ref id="ref4">
        <mixed-citation>
          [4]
          <string-name>
            <given-names>P. K.</given-names>
            <surname>Masur</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <article-title>How online privacy literacy supports self-data protection and selfdetermination in the age of information</article-title>
          ,
          <source>Media and Communication</source>
          <volume>8</volume>
          (
          <year>2020</year>
          )
          <fpage>258</fpage>
          -
          <lpage>269</lpage>
          . doi:
          <volume>10</volume>
          .17645/mac.v8i2.
          <fpage>2855</fpage>
          .
        </mixed-citation>
      </ref>
      <ref id="ref5">
        <mixed-citation>
          [5]
          <string-name>
            <given-names>J.</given-names>
            <surname>Turow</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>Y.</given-names>
            <surname>Lelkes</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>N. A.</given-names>
            <surname>Draper</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <string-name>
            <given-names>A. E.</given-names>
            <surname>Waldman</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <article-title>Americans can't consent to companies' use of their data</article-title>
          ,
          <source>International Journal of Communication</source>
          <volume>17</volume>
          (
          <year>2023</year>
          )
          <fpage>4796</fpage>
          -
          <lpage>4817</lpage>
          .
        </mixed-citation>
      </ref>
      <ref id="ref6">
        <mixed-citation>
          [6]
          <string-name>
            <given-names>J. E.</given-names>
            <surname>Cohen</surname>
          </string-name>
          ,
          <article-title>Configuring the Networked Self: Law, Code, and the Play of Everyday Practice</article-title>
          , Yale University Press,
          <year>2012</year>
          .
        </mixed-citation>
      </ref>
    </ref-list>
  </back>
</article>