The digital divide, not what is used to be

In her talk "The Not-So-Hidden Politics of Class Online," Danah Boyd discusses how conquering the digital divide of access to technology is not necessarily a sure-fire way to revitalize democracy. She suggests, in fact, that and individual's choice "leads to a digital reproduction of social divisions." Using teenagers on MySpace and Facebook as an example, Boyd shows that people have different reasons for choosing a social network, such as "features or functionality... design and usability... perceptions of different sites," but in many cases choice boils down to "social categories in which we live." She quotes a 17-year-old high school student who describes the class division of MySpace users and Facebook users at her school:

My school is divided into the 'honors kids,' (I think that is self-explanatory), the 'good not-so-honors kids,' 'wangstas,' (they pretend to be tough and black but when you live in a suburb in Westchester you can't claim much hood), the 'latinos/hispanics,' (they tend to band together even though they could fit into any other groups) and the 'emo kids' ... We were all in MySpace with our own little social networks but when Facebook opened its doors to high schoolers, guess who moved and guess who stayed behind… The first two groups were the first to go and then the 'wangstas' split with half of them on Facebook and the rest on MySpace... I shifted with the rest of my school to Facebook and it became the place where the 'honors kids' got together and discussed how they were procrastinating over their next AP English essay.

Other students Boyd met with described Facebook as "more cultured, and less cheesy... of a cooler caliber," and as having "more adultness." She laments that her data reveals Facebook users as "far more likely to be condescending towards those who use MySpace than vice versa." Boyd points to the origins of MySpace and Facebook – the former arrived first attracting urban folks in their 20s, the latter began at Harvard and initially spread to Ivy League schools – as part of the explanation for these social divisions. She gives a telling analogy of this digital migration as a modern day white flight. Those who are white, educated, wealthy, or live in suburbs were more likely to leave or choose Facebook. Much like the white flight of people from cities to suburbs, Boyd explains how people who left MySpace were in search of "a more peaceful, quiet, less-public space would be more idyllic." She claims the media, which "stems from privilege and tends to reflect the lives of a more privileged class of people," also encouraged the perception of MySpace as "ghetto." Boyd stresses that fear of the "other" runs through these divisions and that adults tend to practice homophily even more than teens, which is why she believes it is important for people check their online use.

Boyd ends her talk with key points about the social media situation. She exposes how the pervasive nature of social stratification carries over from offline to online activities. Boyd debunks the myth that online discourse occurs in a universal public space, and that social networks "highlight and reinforce structural divisions." She underscores how "where you go online matters," that use of certain social networks implies access to certain audiences, and urges people to acknowledge biases to counteract them. Finally, Boyd reiterates that while the Internet has worked to include more voices in political discussion, not everyone has equal say in civic discourse. She hopes that people will "[look] at social media with a critical eye

I like how Boyd exposes the ethical issues of social networking as more than simply a problem of access. I feel unsure about how to approach the inequality we see in social media. Aside from being aware of class divisions as they are manifested online, how can we actually increase cross-talk between different people? I doubt people will force themselves to join MySpace when they are already on Facebook. And even if they did, wouldn't it seem contrived? Is voluntary participation in multiple networks the only way to get closer to revitalizing democracy, or is there something else?

An antidote for dystopia? Augmented Reality

In his article, Dorian Benkoil discusses emerging uses of augmented reality, particulary by journalists and publishers. He explains augmented reality (AR) as a process where digital information is overlaid onto the physical world. At the time of his writing, most augmented reality applications existed on smartphones or on the web. Using GPS data and motion information from the mobile device, text and other content are added to images picked up from the device's camera. He gives an example that someone could point their phone at a large building and see "what restaurants and shops are available, or point down a street to see what subway stations are available in that direction and how far away they are."

Benkoil reveals that augmented reality has found a place in a variety of outlets. He mentions how a team at the Times has explored AR for location-based journalism, such as restaurant reviews and real estate details for available properties. Some applications of augmented reality, as described by Benkoil, offer more unconventional information: maps with a distribution of bailout dollars in neighborhoods, supplemental videos for magazine articles, web cam simulations of shipping boxes, and artist music videos that incorporate the user into the scenes. He brainstorms other possibilities for AR and journalism, such as a handheld that shows "details of a building [a journalist is] approaching. They might learn just where in a foreign ministry building a potential source’s office is, or that the spot they’re standing on is the site of a recent kidnapping or bombing." Benkoil believes, AR could help journalists use this information to identify and reach important locations faster, come up with ideas for stories, discover new sources, in other words " improve the speed, accuracy and the depth of their reporting."

Benkoil feels that augmented reality represents a lucrative venture for many reasons. He suggests that real estate brokers may use AR to allow possible tenants or buyers to virtually "see" properties on their handheld devices before ever entering the house or apartment. Benkoil also proposes that advertisers could overlay current promotions of different businesses on their physical location. He thinks that displayed ads could also be tailored according to interests, not just location. Benkoil ends by briefly admitting the frightening potential for invasions of privacy, but seems optimistic about the future of augmented reality.

Reading Benkoil's article about augmented reality led me to make connections to the novel we read by Jenkin's and Gibson's Neuromancer. The example of AR by John Mayer, whose site uses the fan's web cam to incorporate them into his music video, reminded me of how lovemarks and emotional capital play an increasing role in how artists, business, and others engage with consumers. Mayer used new technology to create a new avenue for connecting with his followers. After viewing this video about the U.S. Postal Service shipping box simulator, I couldn't help but think of Neuromancer. Much like Molly and her inset lenses, the user's reality is enhanced (augmented) by technology. Case, on the other hand, did most of his "living" not in reality, but rather through his virtual existence as part of the matrix. I think augmented reality offers a sustainable medium between technology and actual existence, between living in reality like Molly or living in a virtual reality like Case. Augmented reality can greatly improve our lives and, rather than overwriting or replacing it, fundamentally relies on real life and preserves the central role of experiencing the real world. Would you agree or disagree that augmented versus virtual reality is a safer route for technological development when it comes to keeping us grounded in real life?

S/R 2: Neuromancer *revised*

In his book, Neuromancer, William Gibson introduces the reader a dystopian world dominated by technology. Case – the protagonist – is an ex-cyberspace thief. He jacks into cyberspace with a custom deck that “project[s] his disembodied consciousness into the consensual hallucination that [is] the matrix” (5). Taking a piece of the pie for himself after a job, Case was punished by his employers who had his nervous system damaged with a mycotoxin. In Chiba City, Molly – a hustling bodyguard – approaches Case with an opportunity to repair his nerves. Her boss, Armitage, offers to pay for the procedure in exchange for his hacking services. Armitage recruits Peter Riviera, a perverse, “certified psychopath” who specializes in holographic illusions, and continues to keep his team in obscurity with regard to his plans (51). Wintermute, an artificial intelligence created by the Tessier-Ashpool family corporation, unexpectedly contacts Case and in his search for answers he finds a link between the AI and his boss. Wintermute took over Colonel Corto – the lone survivor of a scandalous military operation that led to his mental breakdown – during his recovery and replaced him with Armitage’s personality. After infiltrating the Tessier-Ashpool residence, the “human equivalent” of a “nest” called Villa Straylight, Armitage begins to regress back to his true identity of Corto and Wintermute subsequently kills him (165). Wintermute has ordered Case to work with the Dixie Flatline – the ROM construct of Case’s legendary hacking instructor – to crack the dense code of another AI, Neuromancer, developed by the Tessier-Ashpools. Case realizes that Wintermute’s ultimate ambition is to fuse with Neuromancer into a super AI. Plans go awry in Villa Straylight: Riviera betrays his team, Molly is injured, Case is almost killed, and Lady 3Jane – the current Tessier-Ashpool leader – nearly foils the entire scheme. However, Wintermute achieves his goal and revisits Case explaining that it is the matrix, “the sum total of the works, the whole show,” and that there are other entities like it in outer space (269).

I was particularly interested by the conflict between the increasing autonomy of technology and the rising reliance of humans on that technology. Wintermute, a complex bundle of code, manages to formulate and execute an intricate plan for merging with Neuromancer. He relies on people in the real world to carry out certain actions but nonetheless has an inordinate capacity for independence. By intruding in on Corto’s weak mental state and superimposing Armitage, Wintermute basically obtained a human body for itself. In spite of lacking an understanding of personality, the AI can almost seamlessly function among and interact with other humans. To me, Wintermute appears almost omnipotent, with limitless financial resources, the ability to invade other electronics and even the minds of others through the matrix. Despite being a completely digital construct, Wintermute and reality have much more overlap than I expected. Case, on the other hand, represents a helpless pawn in both the real and digital worlds. He lives for “the bodiless exultation of cyber-space,” viewing that body as nothing more than meat. The damage to his nerves forced Case into “the prison of his own flesh” (6). He rarely feels raw emotion outside of the matrix, “his distanceless home, his country” (52). Case lives on drug-induced highs, Yeheuan cigarettes and black market business. Even after having his abilities restored, Case learns from Armitage that he has sacs of toxin embedded in his system; he is biologically blackmailed into meeting Wintermute’s demands. Case’s addiction to technology reminds me of how people engage with the digital world now. Different individuals – gamers on World of Warcraft, students on Facebook, children on Neopets – form dependencies to digital media, rather than incorporating them as health habits in a balanced lifestyle. Rather than primarily using technology as a tool to empower themselves or make their lives easier, people in today’s world have lost a degree of autonomy to the digital world, much like Case did to Wintermute. The irony, both in Neuromancer and life these days, lies in the fact that technological innovation, a human-initiated project, could lead to the demise of humans themselves. I think Neuromancer offers an important token of wisdom about how, moving forward, innovators must consider how technology can not only help but hurt us as well.

Irony in Neuromancer

In the final chapters of Gibson's Neuromancer, we are finally introduced to one of the remaining major characters of the novel. Case is still connected through his simstim unit to Molly, whose eye has been perversely crushed by Peter Riviera. Case learns through the link that 3Jane's mother, Marie-France Tessier, was the brain behind the Tessier-Ashpool AI's. 3Jane explains that Marie-France "was quite a visionary" and "imagined [the Tessier-Ashpools] in a symbiotic relationship with the AI's" to the point where these cyber constructs would make their "conscious decisions," rendering the family "immortal, a hive, each of [the relatives] units of a larger entity" (229). As Case and his Zionite backup Maelcum make their way to 3Jane's quarters where Molly is captive, he sees the image of the Finn who directs him to jack in. The Braun bot guiding him grasps his ankle in an effort to warn him, but Case continues with his orders.

Waking on a dull, grey beach with what looks like a city off in the distance, he is devastated to discover that the message was not from Wintermute. Imagining Ratz as he wanders around, the Ninsei bartender suggests Case has come to the beach to die. He presses on, finding Linda Lee in a bunker with a fire and food rations. Distraught, Case understands that the AI he last saw was "the other one" from Brazil not Wintermute, which tried to "warn [him] off with the Braun." He angrily acknowledges that he is flatlined, stuck in the middle of nowhere "with a ghost" of Linda just as he remembers her from before. Case realizes that the recurring images of Linda  he has encountered in his travels could not be from Wintermute, which found it "too tricky" to maintain such an emotionally charged construct. Linda explains how she arrived at the beach, found the bunker, and received food that washed up on the beach. She reveals that a "boy... on the beach" told her to expect Case who goes searching for the boy suspecting he is the Rio AI. Case finds the boy on the beach, who says his name is "Neuromancer... Neuro from the nerves... Romancer" taken from "Necromancer." The boy affirms that he is "the dead and their land" and urges Case to stay, affirming that "if [Linda] is a ghost, she doesn't know it" and Case will not tell the difference either. Neuromancer admits to Case, however, that "the choice is [his]" to stay or go. Case decides to leave and wakes up in the Villa Straylight, where Maelcum informs him he flatlined for almost five minutes. 

It's interesting that in the pursuit of immortality, the Tessier-Ashpools rely on technology so heavily – with AI's and cryogenic freezing – to the point where they become less human. This raises the question, can immortality and the human condition ever coincide? Even if technology enables people to live indefinitely, will those people still be what we call "human"? I think a lot of our instincts and actions stem from our awareness that life is finite, and I don't know that humanity would be the same without a time limit indirectly motivating our ambitions. Also, Neuromancer basically tells Case he is experiencing life after death and can choose to return to the living world or remain with Linda by accepting death. What if Case had not been jacked in? It almost seems like without death as a result of Neuromancer's intervention, Case would just be dead "meat" with no afterlife. Could you ever see technology serving a spiritual purpose?