Take the “openness” celebrated by the philosopher Karl Popper, who defined the “open society” as the apotheosis of liberal political values. This is not the same openness implied by open-source. While Popper’s openness is primarily about politics and a free flow of ideas, open-source is about cooperation, innovation and efficiency — useful outcomes, but not in all situations.

Take how George Osborne, the British chancellor of the Exchequer, defined “open-source politics” recently. “Instead of relying on politicians” and “civil servants to have a monopoly of wisdom,” he said, “you’d be engaged through the Internet” with the “whole of the public, or as many of the public are interested, in solving a particular problem.”

As an add-on to existing politics, this is wonderful. As a replacement for existing politics, though, this is terrifying.

Of course, it’s important to involve citizens in solving problems. But who gets to decide which “particular problem” citizens tackle in the first place? And how does one delineate the contours of this “problem”? In open-source software, such decisions are often made by managers and clients. But in democratic politics, citizens both steer the ship (with some delegation) and do the rowing. In open-source politics, all they do is row.

Likewise, “open government” — a term once reserved for discussing accountability — today is used mostly to describe how easy it is to access, manipulate and “remix” chunks of government information. “Openness” here doesn’t measure whether such data increase accountability, only how many apps can be built on top of it, even if those apps pursue trivial goals. This ambiguity of “openness” allows British Prime Minister David Cameron to champion open government while also complaining that freedom of information laws are “furring up the arteries of government.”

This confusion isn’t limited to government. Take the obsession with massive open online courses. In what sense are they open? Well, they are available online for free. But to celebrate this as a triumph of openness is premature. A more ambitious openness agenda would not just expand access to courses but also give users the ability to reuse, remix and repurpose their content. I could take somebody’s lecture notes, add a few paragraphs and distribute them further as part of my own course. This is not what most MOOCs currently offer: their terms of use often ban such repurposing.

Will “openness” win, as the digital Pollyannas assure us? It well might. But a victory for “openness” might also signify defeat for democratic politics, ambitious policy reform and much else. Perhaps we should impose a moratorium on the very word “open.” Just imagine the possibilities this could open up!