This week I am responding to Prometheus Wired: The Hope ofr Deomcracy in the Age of Network Technology by David Barney and iSpy: Surveillance and Poer in the Interactive Era by Mark Andrejevic.
This week’s prompt:
[…]But what is the central reason for this disagreement: what, in other words, do the optimists “just not get” about digital media, according to Barney and Andrejevic? Do you think that the latter two writers might consider the work of the optimists to be a twenty-first century version of what the Marxists called “ideology”?
Barney’s disagreement with the digital optimists seems to be similar to my disagreement with Hayek. I was annoyed with Hayek because I felt that in his idealistic exaltation of “maximum freedom of individual choice,” he was completely ignoring the reality of the many powerless people exploited by the choices of those who have the power to exercise their freedom of choice. Barney makes a similar argument. Although it may be true that the implementation of network and computerized technologies in the workforce would result in a net increase of jobs, as the creation of new types of jobs would outbalance the elimination of manufacturing jobs, Barney points out that those who held the eliminated jobs are not necessarily hired immediately into the new jobs (often, he says, they are not). He seems to feel that the digital optimists try to reduce human lives and all the implications therein to numbers: “The point here is that, even if jobs eliminated by network technology are eventualy replaced by jobs ‘elsewhere’ in the economy, the fact of their elimination is more significant in the lives of the people who held them than is their replacement with a job for somebody somewhere else” (135).
I wonder how Norbert Weiner would respond to Barney’s argument. I interpreted Weiner’s argument in The Human Use of Human Beings to be that both machines and humans have their place in production, and that once machines become available to fill certain tasks, they should be implemented, thereby freeing humans up for more appropriate activities. Weiner feels that to place a human in a job that should be given to a machine is to degrade the human. The human mind should be stimulated, not demeaned to menial, mindless tasks. As such, I think he would approve the use of network technologies that eliminate jobs in the manufacturing industry and the creation of more human appropriate jobs, although there are some positions which have been replaced with machines that he would probably not approve. However, it is difficult to make such an idealistic argument in the face of Barney’s numbers and unemployment rates. Would Weiner maintain that machines should still be implemented, and that concurrently targeted efforts should be made to reintegrate those who lost their jobs into the workforce in new positions?
Andrejevic seems to disagree with the idea that the interactive nature of the internet will lead to a more egalitarian society. For him, this same interactivity praised by digital optimists is one of the key elements in the creation of digital enclosure. Despite claims towards egalitarianism, Andrejevic recognizes that someone still controls and has access to all the information that is exchanged through digital interaction. In an information economy, information is a kind of currency, and, according to Andrejevic, we willing turn over large amounts of this currency to the controllers of the information systems, creating an informational hierarchy: “A similar division of groups can be discerned in the emerging digital enclosure between those who control privatized interactive spaces (virtual or otherwise), and those who submit to particular forms of monitoring in order to gain access to goods, services, and conveniences” (3). Andrejevic does not buy Kelly’s idea that “the web runs on love, not greed.” The controllers of “privatized interactive spaces” only want to exploit the information of “those who submit” for profit.
I found reading the opening pages of iSpy and Andrejevic’s description of Google’s plan for contextual advertising. Today, contextual advertising is an everyday occurrence, and while it is sometimes annoying, we don’t generally view it as having the same sinister qualities as does Andrejevic. Is this because it is really not so sinister after all, or are we just desensitized? Are we so used to submitting to the information controllers so we can get the goods and services we want that we cease to resent such advertising as an uninvited invasion of our privacy?
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door... You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to."
--J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
Pages
Showing posts with label new media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new media. Show all posts
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Response: Kelly, Lurie, and Trippi
This week I am responding to “The Web Runs on Love, not Greed,” “Making my own Music,” and “We Are the Web” by Kevin Kelly, “Why the Web Will Win the Culture Wars for the Left” by Peter Lurie, and The Revolution will not be Televised: Democracy, the Internet, and the Overthrow of Everything” by John Trippi.
This week’s prompt:
Like the writers for week twelve, those of week thirteen strike a strongly positive note about the future ... What do you make of their arguments? Are they too optimistic, or do you think that at least some of their predictions are likely to come true, if they haven't already?
While the writers we read this week were rather optimistic, and often had a flair for the dramatic (Kelly’s repeated attribution of the term “miracle” to the internet, Trippi’s title “The Overthrow of Everything”), they did not strike me as naïve as Barlow’s “Declaration …” did. While they have high hopes for the transformative potential of the internet, their expectations seem to be built to a greater extent on facts or history. Trippi’s assessment of the internet’s power to mobilize and connect comes from his experience in the Howard Dean campaign, where it did precisely that. He notes the way the internet empowered members of the campaign, and from that observation he extrapolates that we as consumers will demand this same empowerment from all our usage of the internet. I think this, for one thing, has definitely proved to be true. From personalization of blogs and web pages, to sites selling custom-designed, made-to-order products, to the plethora of iPhone apps available for download, consumers seek convenience, choice, portability, and ease of access.
Kelly’s argument is similar, in that he affirms that internet users will be driven to create content out of passion, not for profit. When internet users are empowered to create (blogs, vlogs, fan art, etc.), they will. Kelly portrays the relationship between the internet and its users as a symbiosis—the one offers a platform that empowers the other to keep the first going.
I had some problems with Lurie’s argument. His argument is fundamentally McLuhanesque, in that the structure and nature of the internet promotes a deconstructionist manner of thinking in its users. I think this is generally a valid point, and I have also observed that people are less willing to trust a single source. However, I think in his assessment of the implications of this trend takes some things for granted which are highly debatable. He conflates religion and politics in his argument, assuming that the “right” is entirely made up of subscribers to centralized, authoritarian religions. While it may be true that more such religious people identify with the political right than with the left, he seems to think (or, at least phrases his argument as such) that this is an absolute categorization. There are, in fact, conservatives who identify as such for economic reasons (they favor the free market) or reasons of governance (they want less governmental interference) than for traditional social values. Lurie’s argument does not address why the deconstructionist nature of the internet would undermine these economically or politically conservative modes of thought. He also makes the converse assumption that all members of the political left are agnostic. This, also, is untrue. There are many religious liberals, and for some of them their belief in the importance of social welfare programs is fueled by a religious (even if unorthodox) faith. Would a deconstructionist system that will destroy religious belief challenge the reasons why such people identify as liberal, causing them, perhaps, to opt instead for a free market where they can pursue their own ends? Lurie does not address this possibility in his article, and I feel like it weakens his argument.
This week’s prompt:
Like the writers for week twelve, those of week thirteen strike a strongly positive note about the future ... What do you make of their arguments? Are they too optimistic, or do you think that at least some of their predictions are likely to come true, if they haven't already?
While the writers we read this week were rather optimistic, and often had a flair for the dramatic (Kelly’s repeated attribution of the term “miracle” to the internet, Trippi’s title “The Overthrow of Everything”), they did not strike me as naïve as Barlow’s “Declaration …” did. While they have high hopes for the transformative potential of the internet, their expectations seem to be built to a greater extent on facts or history. Trippi’s assessment of the internet’s power to mobilize and connect comes from his experience in the Howard Dean campaign, where it did precisely that. He notes the way the internet empowered members of the campaign, and from that observation he extrapolates that we as consumers will demand this same empowerment from all our usage of the internet. I think this, for one thing, has definitely proved to be true. From personalization of blogs and web pages, to sites selling custom-designed, made-to-order products, to the plethora of iPhone apps available for download, consumers seek convenience, choice, portability, and ease of access.
Kelly’s argument is similar, in that he affirms that internet users will be driven to create content out of passion, not for profit. When internet users are empowered to create (blogs, vlogs, fan art, etc.), they will. Kelly portrays the relationship between the internet and its users as a symbiosis—the one offers a platform that empowers the other to keep the first going.
I had some problems with Lurie’s argument. His argument is fundamentally McLuhanesque, in that the structure and nature of the internet promotes a deconstructionist manner of thinking in its users. I think this is generally a valid point, and I have also observed that people are less willing to trust a single source. However, I think in his assessment of the implications of this trend takes some things for granted which are highly debatable. He conflates religion and politics in his argument, assuming that the “right” is entirely made up of subscribers to centralized, authoritarian religions. While it may be true that more such religious people identify with the political right than with the left, he seems to think (or, at least phrases his argument as such) that this is an absolute categorization. There are, in fact, conservatives who identify as such for economic reasons (they favor the free market) or reasons of governance (they want less governmental interference) than for traditional social values. Lurie’s argument does not address why the deconstructionist nature of the internet would undermine these economically or politically conservative modes of thought. He also makes the converse assumption that all members of the political left are agnostic. This, also, is untrue. There are many religious liberals, and for some of them their belief in the importance of social welfare programs is fueled by a religious (even if unorthodox) faith. Would a deconstructionist system that will destroy religious belief challenge the reasons why such people identify as liberal, causing them, perhaps, to opt instead for a free market where they can pursue their own ends? Lurie does not address this possibility in his article, and I feel like it weakens his argument.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Response: Negroponte, Barlow, and Gilder
This week I am responding to Being Digital by Nicholas Negroponte, “A Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace” and “Selling Wine Without Bottles: The Economy of Mind on the Global Net” by John Perry Barlow, and Life After Television by George Gilder
While reading the Barlow essay “Selling Wine Without Bottles” and Barlow’s discussion of how our information-age, material-based mindset concerning intellectual property cannot be applied to the digital age, I was reminded of Melissa Anelli’s discussion of how copyright infringement and intellectual property was negotiated in the early days of the Harry Potter fandom and its presence on the internet. Anelli is the webmistress of the Leaky Cauldron, a popular Harry Potter fansite. Her book, Harry, A History, details the growth and development of the Harry Potter fandom. I unfortunately did not bring my copy of the book to school with me, so I can’t quote the direct passage. However, points out that the beginnings of the Harry Potter fandom were concurrent with the internet’s rapid development as a community forum (the Y2K era). In this time, fans began making fan websites, fan art, fan fiction, etc., using names and terms from the Harry Potter books. When Warner Brothers bought the rights for the Potter films, they began cracking down on what they felt to be copyright infringement, targeting these fansites. There was a highly publicized of a twelve-year-old girl, who had started a Harry Potter fansite, receiving a “cease-and-desist” letter from Warner Brothers. Being twelve, she, quite understandably, freaked out, thinking she was about to be sued or arrested or something. There was a great deal of backlash against Warner Brothers after this, and in the ensuing months they worked out exactly how to respond to these unauthorized usages of Harry Potter names and terms.
Again, I regret that I don’t have the book with me, so I can’t precisely say what the result was; I think it has something to do with making profit, but then again I know that wizard rock bands write music about Harry Potter and sell their music for profit. In any case, I think it’s an example of companies attempting to apply the industrial-age mindset described by Barlow to digital goods in the post-information age. While the use of the name “Harry Potter,” the term “Expelliarmus,” or the image of the Hogwarts crest in fan art may technically violate the sorts of copyrights we are accustomed to using, there just seems something wrong with penalizing a pre-teen for drawing a picture of Harry Potter and posting it online. J.K. Rowling herself, I think, has spoken a bit on the topic, and said that she is glad that people find her work and her world to be a source of creative inspiration, and she does not want to stifle that or to shut down conversations. I think this sort of negotiation that has occurred within the Harry Potter fandom is indicative of the negotiations that will need to happen in all sectors of “the economy of the mind” to achieve a system that allows free exchange of ideas but also does not violate a creator’s right to their creation.
I mentioned wizard rock above, and I think that’s an example of Negroponte’s new Sunday painter. In chapter 18 of Being Digital, he says, “The middle ground between work and play will be enlarged dramatically. The crisp line between love and duty will blur by virtue of a common denominator—being digital. The Sunday painter is a symbol of a new era of opportunity and respect for creative avocations—lifelong making, doing, and expressing” (Ch. 18). Internet forums like YouTube, DeviantArt, and Etsy allow people the opportunity to, perhaps, turn their recreational arts-and-crafting into a source of profit. The internet allows them to find and appeal to niche markets—like “wrock” (wizard rock) for Harry Potter fans or “trock” (timelord rock) for Dr. Who fans. These internet platforms allow amateur artists a low-cost way of distributing their art to a wide audience, until they gain enough attention or fans to profit. This is one example of digital media’s empancipatory power, in that it creates greater freedom of expression.
I think it’s interesting how both Negroponte and Gilder note an increasing emphasis on personalization and interactivity in our new technologies. In chapter 13, Negroponte describes the way new technologies can gather very specific demographic information about an individual, such that that individual’s devices may offer him or her extremely personalized information, recommendations, and advertisements. Similarly, Gilder discusses how the television, a one-way broadcast device, is giving way to the more interactive telecomputer: “Instead of a master-slave architecture in which every receiver can function as a processor and transmitter of video images and other information” (18). This capacity for user to interact with machine, and for user to interact with user via machine is what many of the Marxist writers (Ensenzberger, Baudrillard, etc.) we read earlier wanted in order to make new media truly democratic. The fact that more contemporary writers are noticing the existence of these trends is probably a source of their optimism. If the earlier, Marxist writers prescribed interactivity as the necessary change in media, and if interactivity is in fact encouraging, contemporary writers may feel that the democratization of the media is actually in their power.
And now, for your listening pleasure, "The Bravest Man I Ever Knew" by The Ministry of Magic.
While reading the Barlow essay “Selling Wine Without Bottles” and Barlow’s discussion of how our information-age, material-based mindset concerning intellectual property cannot be applied to the digital age, I was reminded of Melissa Anelli’s discussion of how copyright infringement and intellectual property was negotiated in the early days of the Harry Potter fandom and its presence on the internet. Anelli is the webmistress of the Leaky Cauldron, a popular Harry Potter fansite. Her book, Harry, A History, details the growth and development of the Harry Potter fandom. I unfortunately did not bring my copy of the book to school with me, so I can’t quote the direct passage. However, points out that the beginnings of the Harry Potter fandom were concurrent with the internet’s rapid development as a community forum (the Y2K era). In this time, fans began making fan websites, fan art, fan fiction, etc., using names and terms from the Harry Potter books. When Warner Brothers bought the rights for the Potter films, they began cracking down on what they felt to be copyright infringement, targeting these fansites. There was a highly publicized of a twelve-year-old girl, who had started a Harry Potter fansite, receiving a “cease-and-desist” letter from Warner Brothers. Being twelve, she, quite understandably, freaked out, thinking she was about to be sued or arrested or something. There was a great deal of backlash against Warner Brothers after this, and in the ensuing months they worked out exactly how to respond to these unauthorized usages of Harry Potter names and terms.
Again, I regret that I don’t have the book with me, so I can’t precisely say what the result was; I think it has something to do with making profit, but then again I know that wizard rock bands write music about Harry Potter and sell their music for profit. In any case, I think it’s an example of companies attempting to apply the industrial-age mindset described by Barlow to digital goods in the post-information age. While the use of the name “Harry Potter,” the term “Expelliarmus,” or the image of the Hogwarts crest in fan art may technically violate the sorts of copyrights we are accustomed to using, there just seems something wrong with penalizing a pre-teen for drawing a picture of Harry Potter and posting it online. J.K. Rowling herself, I think, has spoken a bit on the topic, and said that she is glad that people find her work and her world to be a source of creative inspiration, and she does not want to stifle that or to shut down conversations. I think this sort of negotiation that has occurred within the Harry Potter fandom is indicative of the negotiations that will need to happen in all sectors of “the economy of the mind” to achieve a system that allows free exchange of ideas but also does not violate a creator’s right to their creation.
I mentioned wizard rock above, and I think that’s an example of Negroponte’s new Sunday painter. In chapter 18 of Being Digital, he says, “The middle ground between work and play will be enlarged dramatically. The crisp line between love and duty will blur by virtue of a common denominator—being digital. The Sunday painter is a symbol of a new era of opportunity and respect for creative avocations—lifelong making, doing, and expressing” (Ch. 18). Internet forums like YouTube, DeviantArt, and Etsy allow people the opportunity to, perhaps, turn their recreational arts-and-crafting into a source of profit. The internet allows them to find and appeal to niche markets—like “wrock” (wizard rock) for Harry Potter fans or “trock” (timelord rock) for Dr. Who fans. These internet platforms allow amateur artists a low-cost way of distributing their art to a wide audience, until they gain enough attention or fans to profit. This is one example of digital media’s empancipatory power, in that it creates greater freedom of expression.
I think it’s interesting how both Negroponte and Gilder note an increasing emphasis on personalization and interactivity in our new technologies. In chapter 13, Negroponte describes the way new technologies can gather very specific demographic information about an individual, such that that individual’s devices may offer him or her extremely personalized information, recommendations, and advertisements. Similarly, Gilder discusses how the television, a one-way broadcast device, is giving way to the more interactive telecomputer: “Instead of a master-slave architecture in which every receiver can function as a processor and transmitter of video images and other information” (18). This capacity for user to interact with machine, and for user to interact with user via machine is what many of the Marxist writers (Ensenzberger, Baudrillard, etc.) we read earlier wanted in order to make new media truly democratic. The fact that more contemporary writers are noticing the existence of these trends is probably a source of their optimism. If the earlier, Marxist writers prescribed interactivity as the necessary change in media, and if interactivity is in fact encouraging, contemporary writers may feel that the democratization of the media is actually in their power.
And now, for your listening pleasure, "The Bravest Man I Ever Knew" by The Ministry of Magic.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Response: Haraway, Plant, and Turkle
This week I am responding to Simians, Cyborgs, and Women, Chapter 8, “A Cyborg Manifesto” by Donna Haraway, Life on the Screen: Identity in the Age of the Internet, Chapter 9, “Virtuality and its Discontents” by Sherry Turkle, and “Ada Lovelace and the Loom of Life” by Sadie Plant in The Object of Labor: Art, Cloth, and Cultural Production.
This week’s prompt is:
What political potential might radical feminists (or radicals of any stripe for that matter) find in the new media forms that are absent in the mass media world of the decades immediately following the Second World War?
It seems that, for the writers we read this week, the primary political potential in new digital media lies in the ability to dissociate oneself from traditional labels and categories that have, historically, been used as justification for disenfranchisement or disempowerment: gender, race, class, etc. The anonymity of the internet would allow members of these groups to express their ideas and creativity apart from these restrictive classifications. Cyberspace represents for these writers a deconstruction of artificial, repressive social categories.
This is certainly so for Haraway. She rejoices in the fluid nature of the cyborg: “[Cyborgs] are as hard to see politically as materially. They are about consciousness—or its simulation” (153). The cyborg, according to Haraway, distills human interaction down to pure consciousness. This, she says, “changes what counts as women’s experience in the late twentieth century,” because it blurs all sorts of constructed boundaries—not only race, class, gender, and so on, but also human-animal, or material-immaterial (149). As a feminist, she sees this blurring of boundaries as a deconstruction of artificial conceptions of femininity: “There is nothing about being ‘female’ that naturally binds women. There is not even such a state as ‘being’ female, itself a highly complex category constructed in contested scientific discourses and other social practices” (155). Modern electronic media will change women’s experience by allowing them modes of expression previously denied to them due to such socially-imposed constructions.
Plant gives a more historical view of the way the development of electronic media has influenced and involved women. She details the relation between computers and textiles, a craft generally associated with women, and discusses the history of women and computers, beginning with Ada Lovelace and continuing through twentieth-century women computer programmers. While her argument may be less theoretical than Haraway’s, she makes a case for computers and electronic media as an achievement of women as well as men. She marks an important place for them in a field which, today, is often associated with males, thus emphasizing their capacity to partake in a traditionally “masculine” discipline. She does not attempt to argue that women are somehow innately suited for computer work, as Freud tried to argue that women are innately suited for textiles. Rather, she indicates that women were allowed entry to the world of programming because it was considered menial, like weaving (p. 262). Once allowed entry, they excelled in ways that would be influential in the development of contemporary electronic media. Plant sets forth women’s historical involvement with the development of computers as a testament to their ability to excel in traditionally male industries, thereby undermining the assertions of Freud and others that women cannot think analytically.
While Turkle focuses less on women and more on middle-class young adults, she, like Haraway, discusses the empowerment offered by internet’s deconstruction of accepted social categories and norms. In the world of MUDs, people’s ability to recreate themselves as they desire offers them a sense of empowerment they may not feel in their real life. Although she seems wary of the conflation of simulation and reality, she does remark the greater level of participation exhibited by members of cyber-communities. Like Haraway, Turkle affirms that the disassociation of self from embodiment is empowering. She does offer a caveat: “The challenge is to integrate some meaningful personal responsibility in virtual environments. Virtual environments are valuable as places where we can acknowledge our inner diversity. But we still want an authentic experience of self” (p. 254). Haraway does not seem to share this concern for authenticity—she rejoices at the way cyberspace blurs all boundaries. Turkle, on the other hand, only values the empowerment of cyberspace to the extent that it does not replace simulation for reality. While she may also appreciate cyberspace’s capacity to deconstruct borders, it is useless to her if it results in an inability to discern or an apathy towards reality.
This week’s prompt is:
What political potential might radical feminists (or radicals of any stripe for that matter) find in the new media forms that are absent in the mass media world of the decades immediately following the Second World War?
It seems that, for the writers we read this week, the primary political potential in new digital media lies in the ability to dissociate oneself from traditional labels and categories that have, historically, been used as justification for disenfranchisement or disempowerment: gender, race, class, etc. The anonymity of the internet would allow members of these groups to express their ideas and creativity apart from these restrictive classifications. Cyberspace represents for these writers a deconstruction of artificial, repressive social categories.
This is certainly so for Haraway. She rejoices in the fluid nature of the cyborg: “[Cyborgs] are as hard to see politically as materially. They are about consciousness—or its simulation” (153). The cyborg, according to Haraway, distills human interaction down to pure consciousness. This, she says, “changes what counts as women’s experience in the late twentieth century,” because it blurs all sorts of constructed boundaries—not only race, class, gender, and so on, but also human-animal, or material-immaterial (149). As a feminist, she sees this blurring of boundaries as a deconstruction of artificial conceptions of femininity: “There is nothing about being ‘female’ that naturally binds women. There is not even such a state as ‘being’ female, itself a highly complex category constructed in contested scientific discourses and other social practices” (155). Modern electronic media will change women’s experience by allowing them modes of expression previously denied to them due to such socially-imposed constructions.
Plant gives a more historical view of the way the development of electronic media has influenced and involved women. She details the relation between computers and textiles, a craft generally associated with women, and discusses the history of women and computers, beginning with Ada Lovelace and continuing through twentieth-century women computer programmers. While her argument may be less theoretical than Haraway’s, she makes a case for computers and electronic media as an achievement of women as well as men. She marks an important place for them in a field which, today, is often associated with males, thus emphasizing their capacity to partake in a traditionally “masculine” discipline. She does not attempt to argue that women are somehow innately suited for computer work, as Freud tried to argue that women are innately suited for textiles. Rather, she indicates that women were allowed entry to the world of programming because it was considered menial, like weaving (p. 262). Once allowed entry, they excelled in ways that would be influential in the development of contemporary electronic media. Plant sets forth women’s historical involvement with the development of computers as a testament to their ability to excel in traditionally male industries, thereby undermining the assertions of Freud and others that women cannot think analytically.
While Turkle focuses less on women and more on middle-class young adults, she, like Haraway, discusses the empowerment offered by internet’s deconstruction of accepted social categories and norms. In the world of MUDs, people’s ability to recreate themselves as they desire offers them a sense of empowerment they may not feel in their real life. Although she seems wary of the conflation of simulation and reality, she does remark the greater level of participation exhibited by members of cyber-communities. Like Haraway, Turkle affirms that the disassociation of self from embodiment is empowering. She does offer a caveat: “The challenge is to integrate some meaningful personal responsibility in virtual environments. Virtual environments are valuable as places where we can acknowledge our inner diversity. But we still want an authentic experience of self” (p. 254). Haraway does not seem to share this concern for authenticity—she rejoices at the way cyberspace blurs all boundaries. Turkle, on the other hand, only values the empowerment of cyberspace to the extent that it does not replace simulation for reality. While she may also appreciate cyberspace’s capacity to deconstruct borders, it is useless to her if it results in an inability to discern or an apathy towards reality.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Response: Debord and Baudrillard
This week I am responding to The Society of the Spectacle by Guy Debord and “Requiem for the Media” by Jean Baudrillard.
First, some informal reactions:
I could not help getting really annoyed with Debord. First of all, he started out saying all these things about “the spectacle” without defining what exactly he meant by the term. Although I was sort of able to piece it together and figure out what he meant, it would have been so much easier for me to read and internalize his thoughts if I knew what he was talking about in the first place. Perhaps this was intentional (using the textual form to reflect theme and all that jazz) but it was still irritating. Secondly, his prose was so purple, and he seemed to delight in reversals of language (“the science of domination becomes the domination of science” and so on) that really meant very little. He seemed to take an obnoxious, gleeful pleasure in his own wit and eloquence; I could just seem him, as he writes, muttering to himself, “God, I’m good.” Really, I found all his little language flourishes distracting and meaningless.
His form was kind of interesting though. Like Twitter, only longer.
I found Baudrillard much easier to read, although pessimistic. It was nice reading this piece at this point in the semester, because of how he tied in and analyzed other thinkers we have already read in this class. It was a good review, and a good insight into how these various thinkers dialogue with each other.
The prompt:
[…] The big difference between the Frenchmen and McLuhan is that the former appear to be quite critical of these changes, whereas McLuhan was considerably more sanguine. What is it about the modern electronic media that so disturbs Debord and Baudrillard?
Debord seems to be concerned with a society obsessed with appearances to the neglect of meaning or thought. The spectacle, he says, is comprised of “images detached from every aspect of life [merging] into a common stream” (12). These images lose “unity of life” and create a world where appearance is all: “te spectacle proclaims the predominance of appearances and asserts that all human life, which is to say all social life, is mere appearance” (14). The pervasiveness, disconnectedness, and appearance-centeredness of the electronic media, especially the modern manifestation of the electronic media, render it the sort of entity that could quite conceivably promote this “society of the spectacle” that Debord so detests. Take for example the television: it transmits to the viewer a series of disconnected images (commercials which break up programs, programs of different sources following each other, or showing simultaneously on different channels), which the viewer often enters into without context. Those programs depicting some aspect of human life give a generally unrealistic portrayal of true social interaction, instilling in the viewer a conception of human life based more upon these images than upon actual observation of actual humans. Moreover, as Baudrillard also points out, the viewer substitutes the viewing of these images for actual social interaction. Finally, the system of advertising, especially the advertising of commodities, by which television is funded fuels the “pseudo-needs” people create to sustain the economy and the reign of the commodity.
Baudrillard seems less worried about the imagistic, spectacular society that may result from the electronic media, and more concerned with how these technologies may degrade true communication. It essential that communication be recriprocal. It is not enough, for instance, that all political parties have a news channel where they may air their respective opinions, because television is inherently a one-way medium, in which the viewer listens to what the broadcaster says, without being able to respond. No matter the content of the program, or how many different programs and different viewpoints the viewer chooses to view, the communication is still always one way. It is also not enough for Baudrillard that the transmitter and receiver reverse roles, because this only results in a one-way communication going the opposite direction. Any communication or media that is to be truly revolutionary must break down these barriers. He poses graffiti as one of these media, as it is inherently transgressive.
I wonder what he would think of internet forums or the comment sections on blogs. Although they are not inherently transgressive media, they do allow for greater reciprocal communication, and they allow readers to give feedback directly to the author of a thought, video, etc. However, I think even such communal internet media still pose some of the problems Baudrillard identified with the electronic media. He says in regard to television, “ TV, by virtue of its mere presence, is a social control in itself … it is the certainty that people are no longer speaking to each other” (281). I think that same problem often proves true for the internet, even if many people mainly use the internet to “speak” to people. The problem with communications like e-mail, Facebook, and other social networks is that we are addressing ourselves to a cyber-persona of the person with whom we speak, in which such factors as body language, tone, and even oftentimes context are stripped away; we moreover present our own cyber-personas, consciously or not, to those with whom we speak. So by turning ourselves toward a screen and away from other flesh-and-blood humans, we engage in a type of social interaction that is built upon a great deal of illusion (hat tip to Debord). I think Baudrillard is quite prescient in his fear that the electronic media will stop people from actually talking to each other, whether it be because they are viewing various one-way media (TV, YouTube videos, internet articles, etc.) or they are only “speaking” with other people’s cyber-personas. It is not uncommon to hear statements like, “In an age where everything is so connected, why do we feel so isolated?” This degradation of human communication feared by Debord and Bauddrillard seems to have some foundation in reality.
First, some informal reactions:
I could not help getting really annoyed with Debord. First of all, he started out saying all these things about “the spectacle” without defining what exactly he meant by the term. Although I was sort of able to piece it together and figure out what he meant, it would have been so much easier for me to read and internalize his thoughts if I knew what he was talking about in the first place. Perhaps this was intentional (using the textual form to reflect theme and all that jazz) but it was still irritating. Secondly, his prose was so purple, and he seemed to delight in reversals of language (“the science of domination becomes the domination of science” and so on) that really meant very little. He seemed to take an obnoxious, gleeful pleasure in his own wit and eloquence; I could just seem him, as he writes, muttering to himself, “God, I’m good.” Really, I found all his little language flourishes distracting and meaningless.
His form was kind of interesting though. Like Twitter, only longer.
I found Baudrillard much easier to read, although pessimistic. It was nice reading this piece at this point in the semester, because of how he tied in and analyzed other thinkers we have already read in this class. It was a good review, and a good insight into how these various thinkers dialogue with each other.
The prompt:
[…] The big difference between the Frenchmen and McLuhan is that the former appear to be quite critical of these changes, whereas McLuhan was considerably more sanguine. What is it about the modern electronic media that so disturbs Debord and Baudrillard?
Debord seems to be concerned with a society obsessed with appearances to the neglect of meaning or thought. The spectacle, he says, is comprised of “images detached from every aspect of life [merging] into a common stream” (12). These images lose “unity of life” and create a world where appearance is all: “te spectacle proclaims the predominance of appearances and asserts that all human life, which is to say all social life, is mere appearance” (14). The pervasiveness, disconnectedness, and appearance-centeredness of the electronic media, especially the modern manifestation of the electronic media, render it the sort of entity that could quite conceivably promote this “society of the spectacle” that Debord so detests. Take for example the television: it transmits to the viewer a series of disconnected images (commercials which break up programs, programs of different sources following each other, or showing simultaneously on different channels), which the viewer often enters into without context. Those programs depicting some aspect of human life give a generally unrealistic portrayal of true social interaction, instilling in the viewer a conception of human life based more upon these images than upon actual observation of actual humans. Moreover, as Baudrillard also points out, the viewer substitutes the viewing of these images for actual social interaction. Finally, the system of advertising, especially the advertising of commodities, by which television is funded fuels the “pseudo-needs” people create to sustain the economy and the reign of the commodity.
Baudrillard seems less worried about the imagistic, spectacular society that may result from the electronic media, and more concerned with how these technologies may degrade true communication. It essential that communication be recriprocal. It is not enough, for instance, that all political parties have a news channel where they may air their respective opinions, because television is inherently a one-way medium, in which the viewer listens to what the broadcaster says, without being able to respond. No matter the content of the program, or how many different programs and different viewpoints the viewer chooses to view, the communication is still always one way. It is also not enough for Baudrillard that the transmitter and receiver reverse roles, because this only results in a one-way communication going the opposite direction. Any communication or media that is to be truly revolutionary must break down these barriers. He poses graffiti as one of these media, as it is inherently transgressive.
I wonder what he would think of internet forums or the comment sections on blogs. Although they are not inherently transgressive media, they do allow for greater reciprocal communication, and they allow readers to give feedback directly to the author of a thought, video, etc. However, I think even such communal internet media still pose some of the problems Baudrillard identified with the electronic media. He says in regard to television, “ TV, by virtue of its mere presence, is a social control in itself … it is the certainty that people are no longer speaking to each other” (281). I think that same problem often proves true for the internet, even if many people mainly use the internet to “speak” to people. The problem with communications like e-mail, Facebook, and other social networks is that we are addressing ourselves to a cyber-persona of the person with whom we speak, in which such factors as body language, tone, and even oftentimes context are stripped away; we moreover present our own cyber-personas, consciously or not, to those with whom we speak. So by turning ourselves toward a screen and away from other flesh-and-blood humans, we engage in a type of social interaction that is built upon a great deal of illusion (hat tip to Debord). I think Baudrillard is quite prescient in his fear that the electronic media will stop people from actually talking to each other, whether it be because they are viewing various one-way media (TV, YouTube videos, internet articles, etc.) or they are only “speaking” with other people’s cyber-personas. It is not uncommon to hear statements like, “In an age where everything is so connected, why do we feel so isolated?” This degradation of human communication feared by Debord and Bauddrillard seems to have some foundation in reality.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Response: Enzensberger and Habermas
Again, I will begin with a few informal reactions.
Habermas used several words which were rather similar, he was using them for distinct entities, and I was not quite sure of the specific definitions. What does he mean by realm, sphere, domain, and world. He seemed to used these terms to convey something different, but I couldn’t quite figure out the distinctions between them.
I am also curious about the meaning and implications of the term “avant-garde,” which has now come up in Adorno and Horkeimer, Benjamin, and Habermas. I know the basic definition of the term, and I have a series of ideas and attitudes associated with it, but I am interested in the historical context of the term in relation to how they use it—what specific artists do they consider to be avant-garde, and why.
I was intrigued by Enzensberger’s definition of “heritage” as “class-specific handing-on of nonmaterial capital” (106). Again, I basically understood the idea of heritage, but if I had been asked to define it, I would have had some trouble. This definition seems to fit the idea I had in my head, but it also offers more to ponder, like what exactly is entailed by “nonmaterial capital.” I haven’t drawn any conclusions concerning this definition, but it caught my attention, and I want to think on it more.
This week’s prompt is the following: “Despite their Marxist orientation, both Enzensberger and Habermas are generally considered more optimistic about the emancipatory potential of modern culture. What is the reason for this optimism?”
Habermas’s optimism seems to be largely historically based. He details the changes that have occurred in the platforms through which culture has been developed and the cultural trends that resulted. From the coffee houses and salons opened up opportunities for the layperson to discuss and opine about art, such that it was no longer only the elite who could do so. The institution of paid concerts, although it made music more of a commodity, allowed composers to compose what they wanted, not just whatever a patron demanded for an occasion. While Arendt would have feared the destructive consequences to the commoditization of music, Habermas identifies the ways in which this sort of commoditization actually may create space for greater creative expression on the part of the composer. By identifying the positive effects of changing cultural platforms throughout history, Habermas seems to fear future change less and seems more open for recognizing its artistic and cultural potential.
Enzensberger’s optimism seems to stem from a pragmatic recognition of the steps necessary to achieve a more egalitarian mass electronic media. He presents a quite realistic, pragmatic attitude towards the question of new media and how it should be treated. Although he is a Marxist, he clearly recognizes some of the problematic attitudes of some of his fellow left-wing thinkers towards new media. According to Enzensberger, many left-wing activists and thinkers have a tendency to write off new media as one of “the Man’s” devices, and therefore of dubious social good. For Enzensberger, this sort of attitude is counterproductive and problematic in that it doesn’t consider the potential of new media, only previous usages of it by the bourgeois; to use a cliché, this attitude “throws the baby out with the bathwater.” These left-wing activists are so repulsed by the thought of “manipulation” by the new media that they fail to realize, as Enzensberger points out, “every us of the media presupposes manipulation … The question is therefore not whether the media are manipulated, but who manipulates them” (104).
It is this pragmatic understanding of electronic media that forms the basis for Enzensberger’s optimism. With this level-headed attitude that refuses to sensationalize electronic media as a device of “the Man,” Enzensberger is able to identify what changes need to occur to the mass media to render it truly egalitarian: primarily, that it somehow to achieve a greater level of interaction and dialogue between author and audience and to deconstruct the barrier between them. I think this idea anticipates many of the developments that have occurred with internet media. Enzensberger presents radio as an example of a form of media with the potential to achieve more egalitarian communication: “Radio would be the most wonderful means of communication imaginable in public life, a huge linked system—that is to say, it would be such if it were capable not only of transmitting but of receiving, of allowing the listener not only to hear but to speak, and did not isolate him but brought him into contact” (98). This idea anticipates such developments as the live podcast, in which the hosts use a platform like UStream or BlogTV to record a radio show live, during which listeners may call in to contribute or converse about what is being said in a live chat box. Similar developments like YouTube, web forums, and blogs also allow for a greater level of interaction between author and audience.
Habermas used several words which were rather similar, he was using them for distinct entities, and I was not quite sure of the specific definitions. What does he mean by realm, sphere, domain, and world. He seemed to used these terms to convey something different, but I couldn’t quite figure out the distinctions between them.
I am also curious about the meaning and implications of the term “avant-garde,” which has now come up in Adorno and Horkeimer, Benjamin, and Habermas. I know the basic definition of the term, and I have a series of ideas and attitudes associated with it, but I am interested in the historical context of the term in relation to how they use it—what specific artists do they consider to be avant-garde, and why.
I was intrigued by Enzensberger’s definition of “heritage” as “class-specific handing-on of nonmaterial capital” (106). Again, I basically understood the idea of heritage, but if I had been asked to define it, I would have had some trouble. This definition seems to fit the idea I had in my head, but it also offers more to ponder, like what exactly is entailed by “nonmaterial capital.” I haven’t drawn any conclusions concerning this definition, but it caught my attention, and I want to think on it more.
This week’s prompt is the following: “Despite their Marxist orientation, both Enzensberger and Habermas are generally considered more optimistic about the emancipatory potential of modern culture. What is the reason for this optimism?”
Habermas’s optimism seems to be largely historically based. He details the changes that have occurred in the platforms through which culture has been developed and the cultural trends that resulted. From the coffee houses and salons opened up opportunities for the layperson to discuss and opine about art, such that it was no longer only the elite who could do so. The institution of paid concerts, although it made music more of a commodity, allowed composers to compose what they wanted, not just whatever a patron demanded for an occasion. While Arendt would have feared the destructive consequences to the commoditization of music, Habermas identifies the ways in which this sort of commoditization actually may create space for greater creative expression on the part of the composer. By identifying the positive effects of changing cultural platforms throughout history, Habermas seems to fear future change less and seems more open for recognizing its artistic and cultural potential.
Enzensberger’s optimism seems to stem from a pragmatic recognition of the steps necessary to achieve a more egalitarian mass electronic media. He presents a quite realistic, pragmatic attitude towards the question of new media and how it should be treated. Although he is a Marxist, he clearly recognizes some of the problematic attitudes of some of his fellow left-wing thinkers towards new media. According to Enzensberger, many left-wing activists and thinkers have a tendency to write off new media as one of “the Man’s” devices, and therefore of dubious social good. For Enzensberger, this sort of attitude is counterproductive and problematic in that it doesn’t consider the potential of new media, only previous usages of it by the bourgeois; to use a cliché, this attitude “throws the baby out with the bathwater.” These left-wing activists are so repulsed by the thought of “manipulation” by the new media that they fail to realize, as Enzensberger points out, “every us of the media presupposes manipulation … The question is therefore not whether the media are manipulated, but who manipulates them” (104).
It is this pragmatic understanding of electronic media that forms the basis for Enzensberger’s optimism. With this level-headed attitude that refuses to sensationalize electronic media as a device of “the Man,” Enzensberger is able to identify what changes need to occur to the mass media to render it truly egalitarian: primarily, that it somehow to achieve a greater level of interaction and dialogue between author and audience and to deconstruct the barrier between them. I think this idea anticipates many of the developments that have occurred with internet media. Enzensberger presents radio as an example of a form of media with the potential to achieve more egalitarian communication: “Radio would be the most wonderful means of communication imaginable in public life, a huge linked system—that is to say, it would be such if it were capable not only of transmitting but of receiving, of allowing the listener not only to hear but to speak, and did not isolate him but brought him into contact” (98). This idea anticipates such developments as the live podcast, in which the hosts use a platform like UStream or BlogTV to record a radio show live, during which listeners may call in to contribute or converse about what is being said in a live chat box. Similar developments like YouTube, web forums, and blogs also allow for a greater level of interaction between author and audience.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Honors 3013: The social construction of new media
Hello, all. [Insert requisite comment about how I am terrible at blogging]. I promise, I didn't drop off the face of the earth. I am just negligent when it comes to blogging/journalling/whatever. However, I will be putting this blog in use again. I am taking an Honors class this semester about, as the title implies, new media, the internet, the role it plays in our culture, how we interact with new media, etc. One of the requirements for this class is that we post weekly blog responses to our readings. I decided to use this blog for that purpose rather than creating a new one because 1.) I'd rather have just one blog account and 2.) these issues are topics I like to think about, so I may want to save these responses for future reference. For those of you who have been following me to hear about my travels, these posts might be of little interest, so I will certainly not be offended if you don't read them.
I am excited about this class, because, like I said, I like to think about these topics, but I don't always feel that I am intellectually equipped to think well about them. I hope this class will give me said intellectual equipment to contemplate these ideas more thoroughly.
I am excited about this class, because, like I said, I like to think about these topics, but I don't always feel that I am intellectually equipped to think well about them. I hope this class will give me said intellectual equipment to contemplate these ideas more thoroughly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)