Guest Commentary: Congress stuck in the past and it’s hurting the future
We live in a world transformed by technology — artificial intelligence answers our questions, social media shapes elections, and our most personal data travels across servers in milliseconds. Yet the laws that govern this rapidly changing digital reality are often decades out of date. Even more alarming, many of the people responsible for writing and updating those laws are shockingly disconnected from the very tools and systems they’re tasked with regulating.
The United States Congress is one of the oldest in the nation’s history, with the average member being nearly 60 years old. This in itself is not the problem. Experience matters. But when some lawmakers have openly admitted they don’t use email or understand basic internet terminology, it becomes clear that there’s a growing gap between technological advancement and legislative competence. That gap is leaving millions of Americans vulnerable — creators, entrepreneurs, and even everyday internet users.
A case in point is the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. This law was written when vinyl records and film reels dominated media consumption. It was designed to protect authors, musicians, and filmmakers from having their work copied or distributed without permission. But in 2025, with everything from TikTok videos to digital art NFTs blurring the lines between creation and distribution, the law is woefully inadequate. Worse, it’s being manipulated.
“Copyright trolls” — often shell companies or opportunistic law firms — exploit outdated provisions of the act to target individuals, small businesses, and content creators with frivolous lawsuits. These trolls threaten litigation for minor infractions, like using a song clip in a YouTube video or sharing a copyrighted image on social media. Faced with costly legal battles, many people simply settle, even if they’ve done nothing wrong. This perversion of copyright law isn’t about protecting creators — it’s about extracting money from the unprepared.
And copyright isn’t the only legal dinosaur still stomping through modern life.
Take the Communications Act of 1934, which prevents law enforcement from jamming cellphone signals — even in prisons. This means inmates can use contraband phones to coordinate drug deals or intimidate witnesses, and corrections officers are powerless to block the signals. The law was created in an era of party-line phones and switchboard operators, yet it still dictates the rules for 21st-Century wireless technology.
Then there’s the Smith-Mundt Act of 1948, a Cold War-era statute originally designed to regulate how the U.S. government communicates with foreign populations via radio and print. It was never meant to address the complexities of social media, global streaming platforms, or state-sponsored disinformation campaigns. But instead of updating the law to reflect a world in which propaganda spreads in real time across Twitter, TikTok, and YouTube, Congress continues to rely on policies designed for analog media warfare.
The result of this legislative lag is more than just bureaucratic inefficiency — it’s a direct threat to innovation, public safety, and individual freedom. Entrepreneurs navigate a legal minefield to launch new platforms or apps. Educators risk lawsuits for showing a movie clip in class. And Americans — especially young people — are governed by rules written for a world that no longer exists.
So why are these outdated laws still in place?
The simple answer: changing them is hard. Congressional reform requires time, coordination, and political will — resources that are often in short supply. It also requires an understanding of the issues at hand, something not all lawmakers possess. During a now-infamous 2018 hearing with Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg, members of Congress struggled to ask coherent questions about how the internet works, confusing “email” with “messaging” and revealing just how out of touch many were. In 2025, that disconnect hasn’t improved enough.
But we can’t afford to wait for Congress to catch up on its own. Three key actions can help bridge this gap.
First, we need a generational shift in leadership. As voters, we should prioritize electing representatives who understand technology not just theoretically, but practically. Having digital natives in Congress isn’t a luxury — it’s a democratic necessity.
Second, lawmakers must be required to consult with experts when crafting or revising legislation. This means working with technologists, civil liberties advocates, cybersecurity specialists, and ethicists. Good policy doesn’t emerge from isolation; it comes from collaboration.
Third, we should create institutional mechanisms for regular legal review. Technology changes fast, and laws should have built-in sunset clauses or scheduled reviews to ensure they stay relevant. Congress could also establish a bipartisan “Technology and Law Commission” to continuously assess which statutes need to evolve or be retired.
Ultimately, this isn’t just a legal issue — it’s a cultural one. We need to shift the mindset in Washington from one of reaction to one of adaptation. Instead of letting outdated laws linger because they’re “good enough,” we should be constantly asking: Is this law serving the public in the world we live in now?
The U.S. has always prided itself on being a leader in innovation. But that leadership is at risk if we allow our legal foundation to crumble under the weight of obsolescence. The future doesn’t wait — and neither should Congress.
Jack Lombardi is a tech entrepreneur and resides in Cape Coral.