Ranthropologist

Tag: social media

  • Daily Read: Mob (In)justice

    Daily Read: Mob (In)justice

    When I saw the reports about the killing of Zimbabwe’s beloved Cecil the lion, I was as disgusted as I always am when I hear about someone taking pleasure from deliberately killing an animal as a trophy. I am not opposed to all hunting, but I do find trophy hunting to be distasteful at best. So as the reactions to this particular lion’s death at the hands of US dentist Walter Palmer made the rounds of social media, I felt the same sense of sadness and moral outrage as many of my friends. Still, it wasn’t long before I became uneasy as news that the hunter’s personal information was being made public began to circulate. Known as “doxxing,” releasing personal details like work and home addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers is a method to exact a perverse form of internet mob justice.

    Writing for Vox, Max Fisher explains why the internet mob outrage over Cecil the lion is something that should make us all uneasy. Whether or not you think Walter Palmer is a scumbag for killing Cecil is irrelevant, since this form of internet vigilantism can be linked to many different controversies, including the nauseatingly misogynistic Gamergate movement, in which doxxing, threats of violence, and horrific personal attacks against women are the norm. No matter how you feel about Palmer, you should take what Fisher says in this article to heart. Internet mob justice is just the modern equivalent of the pitchforks and torches of yore – in other words, it is not justice at all. Fisher puts it well: “What Palmer did was wrong, and he deserves to be punished to the full extent of the law. But it’s easy to forget just how dangerous and unjust ‘mob justice’ is while it’s targeting someone you despise. The more this behavior is normalized, the more likely it is to be deployed against targets who might not necessarily deserve to have their lives destroyed — including, perhaps one day, against you.”

    From Gamergate to Cecil the Lion: internet mob justice is out of control

  • Daily Reads: Feeding the Trolls

    Daily Reads: Feeding the Trolls

    When I first discovered the website Jezebel, the writer Lindy West quickly became one of my favorite contributors. She is fiercely intelligent, incredibly funny, and delightfully straightforward. I loved everything she wrote for Jezebel. Lindy has moved on to writing for The Guardian, and in this piece she talks about what it is like to be targeted by online trolls. Most of you already know this, but an internet troll is a person who leaves anonymous comments, tweets, or emails that are meant to insult or provoke. Trolls can be incredibly vicious and degrading, and for West, who frequently writes about feminism, the trolls are also virulently misogynistic. She writes that she has developed armor to help protect her from commenters who talk about how they want to rape or kill her, but she also acknowledges the heavy burden these trolls place on her and her colleagues. The story West has to tell is disturbing but also, potentially, hopeful – it involves how she ended up having a long conversation with one of her trolls who had come to recognize the error of his ways. West does more than write about this remorseful troll – she also did a piece on her experience with him for This American Life, which you can listen to here. West’s article and the radio piece are really about much more than just her particular trolls; they are about the breakdown in civility that can occur in the modern online world, and what can happen when people are given anonymity. I think it is an important read.

    What happened when I confronted my cruellest troll

  • Daily Read: Your Brain on Multitasking

    Daily Read: Your Brain on Multitasking

    Today’s Daily Read is relevant to my latest post in the Technology and Its Discontents series in that it discusses the harm we are doing to ourselves through our addictions to our phones and screens. Daniel J. Levitin writes in The Guardian about the detrimental effects of information overload on our brains. In this new era of instant electronic gratification, we have fooled ourselves into thinking that we are getting more done, when in reality, the research shows that we are simply feeding our addiction to dopamine. I already know about the effects of dopamine and wrote about it here; but it’s funny how having knowledge of the harm and seeing how it affects me has still not been enough for me to stop spending so much time with screens. Levitin’s article is a bit lengthy but please don’t let that deter you; five to ten minutes of reading will reward you with some insights that may help you – or at least, inform you. Here’s a tidbit from the article that was new – and also surprising and worrying – to me: “Just having the opportunity to multitask is detrimental to cognitive performance. Glenn Wilson, former visiting professor of psychology at Gresham College, London, calls it info-mania. His research found that being in a situation where you are trying to concentrate on a task, and an email is sitting unread in your inbox, can reduce your effective IQ by 10 points. And although people ascribe many benefits to marijuana, including enhanced creativity and reduced pain and stress, it is well documented that its chief ingredient, cannabinol, activates dedicated cannabinol receptors in the brain and interferes profoundly with memory and with our ability to concentrate on several things at once. Wilson showed that the cognitive losses from multitasking are even greater than the cognitive losses from pot‑smoking.”

    Why the Modern World is Bad for Your Brain

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Screening Experience

    Technology and Its Discontents: Screening Experience

    Yesterday (January 18, 2015) I ran in the Carlsbad half-marathon. It was my first half-marathon since late 2010, and while it’s not exactly accurate to say that getting up at the crack of dawn to wait in the cold and then run 13.1 miles is fun, I was looking forward to it. I have never regretted doing a race, whether a triathlon or a running race, and I have enjoyed those experiences as well, even as my body complains and my brain asks why the hell I am paying good money for the dubious “pleasure” of participating in endurance events. Well, here’s why I do it: I like challenging myself. I appreciate knowing that, at 43 years old, I can run long distances at a reasonable pace and not be completely wrecked at the end. I like getting up with the sun and knowing I’ll soon be outside, with like-minded people, experiencing the same challenge. I don’t wear headphones when I race because I want to hear the sound that thousands of footfalls make when the starting gun goes off – it sounds like a steady rain. I also want to hear the snippets of conversation, the cheers of the spectators and the encouragement of the volunteers, and my own labored breathing.

    Every person’s experience of the race is unique, and I understand why well over half of the people I saw were wearing headphones as they ran. I always listen to music when I am doing fitness or training runs, because, let’s face it: running is monotonous. The music helps. I make the exception for races because I am energized and entertained by what I hear along the course. So, this rant is not aimed at those who wear headphones during a race. It is, however, aimed at the people who did not actually experience the race; instead, they screened it. This would be the people who had their phones held above their heads, the record button pressed, taking video as they ran across the starting line. This would be the people slinging their arms around their friends, already walking before finishing the first mile, blocking the serious runners behind them, attempting to take a group selfie. This would be the people who were posting pictures to social media or sending texts as they weaved about the course, oblivious to the runners around them. This would be the “runners” stopping for several minutes to pose for photos or take selfies in front of the ocean as the race route passed out of downtown Carlsbad and went along the beach.

    I try not to begrudge these people their right to document their experience as they see fit, but the fact is that I do begrudge it, and I do judge it. I won’t argue that it’s right for me to do so; it’s a purely subjective reaction. But I have to be honest and admit that it bugs the shit out of me. I don’t think people who do this sort of thing are experiencing the race so much as they are experiencing their desire to document and share it (and in fact, there is research to show that our obsessive use of camera phones is changing the way our experiences and memories are shaped). I’m sure the same thing happened in the last half-marathon I ran in 2010, but I don’t remember seeing so much of it. And to be clear, I have no problem with pre- or post-race photos or social media updates. But during the race? What this also tells me is that these people aren’t in it to race a half-marathon; they’re in it so they can say they’ve participated in a half-marathon. To me, these are substantively different things. I’ll grant you that I am not racing in the sense that I expect to beat anybody in particular across the finish line; but I am racing in the sense that I have a goal, which is to run to the best of my ability and complete the race with the best time I can accomplish.

    I’m sure this must sound incredibly snobbish and arrogant. It probably is. I am working on detaching myself from this reaction because, unless one of these screen-runners gets in my way or runs into me, their actions have no direct impact on me. They can do what they want and they can experience the race any way they choose… but if anything the greatest sense I have is one of sadness that technology has brought us to this: using the screen as a filter for genuine experience. Maybe some memories are better developed in the mind and not on the screen. Maybe some accomplishments should be achieved with our eyes focused on the world in front of us, in full. Maybe the real challenge in not just completing, but racing in an endurance event needs to be found in fully committing to it and not doing it just as a lark to be shared via text or tweet or Instagram mid-race.

    I realized even before I crossed the finish line yesterday that I have missed it and I will race again. I know I will see the screen-runners at the next event, too. It will probably bother me less because I’ll be prepared for it, and also because I know it’s not for me to judge how other people choose to experience the race. I know that my reaction to the screens is visceral and emotional rather than rational… but I still wish people would just put down their phones and run.

  • Death and Life on Facebook

    Death and Life on Facebook

    A friend of mine died yesterday. I knew it was coming. He had already beaten a different kind of cancer once, but this one, in a different part of his body, was fast-growing, virulent, and untreatable. I learned of his diagnosis, earlier this year, the old-fashioned way – someone told me about it, in person. This man – Steve – was closest to my uncle, but as someone who had worked first for, and then with, my uncle since I was in my early twenties, I definitely considered him a friend. When news of his death came yesterday, again it was the old-fashioned way – my mother called me to tell me. When I hung up the phone my first urge was to post something about it on Facebook, but as my fingers hovered over the mouse to click to the page, I stopped. I thought. I started to cry. And I didn’t write the post.

    What stopped me from sharing this life event with my social media circle? My first thought was that it wasn’t appropriate. Steve and I did not share many friends on FB, but we shared a few, and I didn’t think this was the way they should find out if they didn’t already know. My second thought was that it’s not the way I would want to find out, either. I tried to assess my initial desire to post about this loss right away and what I hoped to gain from it, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this issue is more complicated than I thought – and more complicated than I want it to be.

    This isn’t just about death or other bad news; it’s about sharing our lives in general. As those of you who read my blog already know, I have an uneasy relationship with social media. Obviously I use it, but I am ambivalent about it – sometimes deeply. There is nothing inherently wrong with sharing news about our lives, and the positive thing about sharing the news of my friend’s death was that I would get comforting words from other friends in return. That’s a good thing… right? Of course it is. But can it also be a bad thing? Is our urge to share on social media right away, especially when it comes to deeply personal news, something we should always do? Of course not. But when do we know? This is the tricky part, because I think this line is drawn in a different place for every person. It makes the Golden Rule – do unto others as you would have them do unto you – uncertain. And because social media is ubiquitous, and because the posting habits of others are out of our control, sometimes things we wouldn’t share about ourselves get shared anyway.

    When I thought more about Steve’s role in my life I realized that if it weren’t for Facebook I probably wouldn’t have had much interaction with him at all over the last several years. I would see him in person from time to time in social situations, but we didn’t have a one-on-one relationship. So when I saw and friended him on FB, it was an opportunity to reconnect with somebody I had always enjoyed seeing. Steve was deeply, brilliantly sarcastic, with an acid wit and a tongue to match. He was quite liberal in many of his politics, and once we became FB friends we would trade private messages with links to political cartoons or articles that we would laugh over together. Sometimes he would engage in sparring matches with some of my friends in the comment sections of some of my political postings, making sharp points couched in jokes and eye-rolling mock disdain. I always loved to read what he had to say. I will miss that very much. But I have to ask myself: what would I have to miss if it weren’t for the fact that we reconnected on Facebook? In other words, if it weren’t for FB, I probably would not have talked to Steve for years, and I would not have had an online relationship to miss. That would have been a shame. But I have to ask myself: if people didn’t have social media, would they have more incentive to maintain the relationships that are important in their lives? Would we reach out to people more frequently in person if we didn’t see them online?

    I don’t know the answer to that question. The reality is that I have reconnected with people on FB that I most likely never would have seen or talked to again if it weren’t for social media. Looking back on my life pre-FB, how often did I feel the urge to find some of the people I am connected to now? I have to be honest and say that I probably didn’t think of them at all. However, once this venue became available to us we had a way to look for people, and we could give in to the novelty and the curiosity to find out what people from our past might be up to now. But again, the hard, honest truth: my life would not be any worse if I had never reconnected with some of these people; and I don’t think it’s necessarily better because I have. This is not meant to be a slight; to me, it’s simply reality. The people who are the most important to me are the ones I know, and have always known, I am going to see again. They are the ones I will contact personally if I have something really important to share. They are the ones I can count on if I need them when something bad happens. I don’t want to discount the value of online interactions in general – like most people, I enjoy the likes, the shares, and the comments on what I post. But I think it has become too easy to rely on electronic feedback to provide us with the squirt of dopamine that reassures our brains that we have been noticed and validated. My fear is that we will think this is enough, and we will not nourish the relationships we have with people in the real world.

    This post probably seems hypocritical in some respects, because in deciding not to post on Facebook about the death of my friend I felt inspired to write this post talking about the death of my friend, which I will shortly be posting, via Twitter, on Facebook. But this isn’t about Steve. It’s about making sure that I keep my online interactions in proper perspective. I value the interactions I am able to have because of FB but I don’t, in the big scheme of things, think I will be missing anything important if I decide to back away. If I want to have actual relationships with people, not just digital interactions, then I think I will ultimately have to back away.

    In your memory, Mr. Marchetti. I enjoyed having you as a friend in the real world and the digital one, and I will miss you.

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Getting Quizzed

    Technology and Its Discontents: Getting Quizzed

    For the past several months I have noticed a proliferation of quizzes on social media and pop culture websites. There is something about a headline that reads “Find out which Disney princess you are!” that overcomes my inner curmudgeon and makes me want to participate, even though I’m not a fan of Disney and I don’t really care which princess I am. The internet quiz is possessed of an uncanny ability to draw in even the wary, because what could possibly be the harm in finding out which Walking Dead character you are or what your profession should actually be or what mythological beast is your totem animal? It turns out, more harm than I realized.

    Even as I was giving in to the siren call of the quiz I found myself questioning why its allure was so strong. I was answering quizzes dealing with topics I knew nothing about – things like which character I am on a TV show I don’t even watch. I told myself that it was ok because I mostly kept my participation hidden from others. I ran across most quizzes on Facebook on the feeds of friends who had taken them. I almost never posted my results, although I would sometimes leave them as a comment for the person who originally posted the quiz. I was slightly embarrassed by how quickly the quizzes would suck me in, and I figured if I didn’t pass them on then I was at least not contributing to their proliferation. As usual, there was an element of “I’m better than this” to my refusal to share my participation; I didn’t want to admit that I was indulging in such a petty use of my time.

    I thought my slight embarrassment was the worst consequence of taking these silly quizzes until I ran across an article that revealed information I immediately realized I should already have known: the quizzes are a back door way for marketers to track consumer data. OF COURSE THEY ARE. My literal headslap after reading the article paled in comparison to the anger I felt at myself for being so easily duped. If you are not familiar with these quizzes, they ask seemingly innocent questions in an effort to peg you as, for example, a fictional character or famous author or classic movie. Many of the questions have answers that hint at certain results, so if you are just dying to be identified as Allison from The Breakfast Club, you’ll select the picture of the sandwich made with Cap’n Crunch and Pixie Sticks as your lunch of choice. This all just seems so harmless and fun! But in reality, it is telling the purveyor of the quiz very specific details about you. What is your favorite color? Favorite animal? Favorite breakfast cereal? What bands do you like? Where is your dream vacation destination? What decade do you identify with? How do you dress? What do you read, watch, eat, do for fun? All these questions are things I have encountered on these quizzes, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize on my own that they aren’t harmless at all.

    There are plenty of people who think this sort of thing is no big deal, and I suppose to some degree that’s true, but I will not concede that it is without harm. It is manipulation, pure and simple. It’s worse than subliminal because it not only sends a message out to the consumer, it gathers a response that can be used to craft even more manipulative messaging. It absolutely depends on the notion that people don’t realize what they are giving away when they participate. If this was really just about selling us stuff, I’d still be upset by it, but ultimately I think it’s much more than that. Our willing participation in the online world means unwitting participation as harvested data. We all need to bear in mind that on the internet, nothing is truly free. The adage of marketing holds true: if you’re not paying for a product, you are the product. So the next time a quiz pops up, remember: you are giving yourself away for free.