Alone Together or Alone/Together (?)

In the first few chapters of Alone Together, Turkle invites us to think about robots, specifically what robots do to disrupt the way we see things such as subjectivity, emotion, and love.

The very first chapter begins by talking about robots as companions, rooted in a conversation that Turkle had with a reporter from Scientific American in which the reporter accused Turkle of maligned views toward same sex marriage because of her criticism that people should not be allowed to marry robots. The reporter claimed that Turkle wasn’t giving Turkle the same rights as humans, and that prejudice about one group necessarily transferred to other groups. Angered by this moment, Turkle sets out to write about our relationship to technology and the loss of the “authenticity” of things. This will eventually relate to our exchanges with computers in communication, but Turkle takes the first half of the book to talk about our relationship with robots.

                Authenticity, as a concept, seems to be Turkle’s biggest concern. Early on in the first half of the book, Turkle talks about the difference between toys and robots, or maybe more precisely the conflation of the two. While children have always used toys, some even having anthropomorphic tendencies, robots ability to react and to move and, seemingly, to learn, changes the whole experience. Both older generations and kids purchase robots as a toy/companion, but it often merges into just being a companion. Part of the problem, then, is that these virtual pets don’t die. The pets then give the owner the illusion of responsibility. A person can take care of these toys, but they can also turn them off, walk away.

                But the will to think about these robots as having underlying human characteristics isn’t just an element that has to deal with robots, but, it seems, has to do with language itself. Turkle cites a famous computer interaction program called ERICA. When people would write into the program, it was only a matter of time until the person started to share very personal information about themselves looking for the computer to care. It is in this “caring” that Turkle harps on, because the computer doesn’t actually have a sense of empathy, and she feels we are being enchanted in order to be deceived. The deception of care might lead us to believe that we’re having social lives, but then will keep us from having to think about what it “really” means to care as a communicative act between two humans.

                Later on in the section, Turkle discusses the many ways that we create an “I and thou,” which seems to be a way of saying that the robot has personal characteristics. Sometimes this is discussed as the way children like to make up for the robot’s inadequacies. Seeing that the robot was having a speaking malfunction, or if a limb wasn’t working, people would still try to “care” for the robot in ways that considered the robot as “hurt” or “sick.” When the robot couldn’t talk, some children tried to use sign language to talk to the robot. At other times, children would take offense to the robot’s inefficiencies, to the point where the researchers had to consider what they should do if the robot’s inabilities had profound negative effects on the children.

                One of the strongest chapters in the book so far was the one on “Communion” where a performance artist tried to perform the moves of the robot in order to understand it’s mindset and actions. She studied the robot and the trainer, and then put on a performance where she made those movements, and then talked to Turkle about her experiences. In order to inhabit the mindset of the robot, the performance artist had to give the movements an emotional background. Sometimes this related to a “love” for the operator, and other times it was just a mood behind the movement. In the end, Turkle devolves to a discussion of how our only way to think about movement might be in consideration of emotion, with emotion being a factor that we can’t just get away from.

                In another great part of the chapter, a researcher argues with Turkle’s concept that machine emotions are inauthentic while human emotions are authentic. In reality, we can’t know when a person is being genuine to us or just putting on a performance, we can only take it in stride and accept that we are seeing some kind of emotion. This is similar then, to robots, where we believe that the emotion is not authentic (we don’t think the machine can feel) but at the same time we really can’t know. Turkle ends the chapter out of this argument by saying that it’s not so much that we should privilege one over the other, but we should still consider the consequences of the change and the result of the shift. 


Questions: 


What does Turkle's argument have to do for our considerations of subjectivity? This is to say, how do we know that the emotions of others are authentic? Do we have any better proof that robots are not authentic? 


Does everything that enchants also deceive? What is the full implication of this statement, and how do we reconcile it beyond just robots and technology? 


In what ways do we project emotional capacity onto more than just robots or technology, but onto all kinds of trivialized areas of our lives?

The End of Jenkins: Media Convergence and Less Directed Politics

Media Convergence and Democratic Online Communities

In the sixth chapter, Jenkins makes begins to move out of working only in what we would normally call “pop culture” to talk about the way media convergence can lead to larger discussions of political concepts. Jenkins begins by outlining the first moments where new media truly began to inflect on the political process during the elections in 2004. While we used to consider the disruption of normative systems, such as television media or the election process, as a sort of “jamming,” Jenkins seems to nudge us toward the possibility that these two sides have undergone some semblance of convergence in themselves, as the process of disruption is really just part of the political process itself. This gets back to the discussion about how there is less of a media revolution going on as much as there is a recursive cultural cycle.

On the one hand, media convergence seems to be beneficial to the political process. On multiple occasions Jenkins points to communities and programs which might, at first glance, distract the viewer from the heart of political issues. In particular, Jenkins highlights the Alphaville community within the Sims Online game. In this community crime ran rampant until they decided to create a political system of their own, complete with elections. In the course of these elections, Jenkins suggests, the players engaged themselves in a similar process as the simultaneous elections in 2004. And while the game environment ended up effectively handling their voting snafus, the U.S. government was greatly criticized for the recount of 2004.

Those playing in games said that the game inspired them to try new political activities in the real world, and Jenkins even uses a few examples of communities that took their expertise out of the game world and put it to use trying to fix the budget or find terrorists. In the end, however, Jenkins acknowledges the ability of game communities to stand as only temporary environments, as people can log in and log out at any time they please in addition to the fact that the community might be intensely populated for only a short period of time before the users move to a new environment.

The Daily Show And Democracy

In another development of media convergence, Jenkins highlights The Daily Show and its ability to draw in citizens in a different way than traditional news media. Considering famous studies from the Pew Center, there is strong evidence supporting those watching The Daily Show as some of the best informed citizens. Jenkins attributes this knowledge to the way the show often presents key problems or issues with the current political candidates and news media. When people watch The Daily Show they’re getting an admittedly biased source instead of a subtle one. Jenkins also relates the chapter in other ways to comedy, as the title of the chapter refers to the ability of people with simple graphics software to the ability of ordinary citizens to create jokes and artifacts that play with the media fabric. It was interesting that this chapter (and other chapters as well) gave humorous texts such a positive viewpoint, when quick analysis of parody or humor is often relegated to a surface level comprehension.

Jenkins also touches on the problem of a fragmenting population of ideas on the internet. This is to say that, when people log on to the internet, they can easily find people that share their beliefs. This is, in part, a good thing, since it allows communities to form more easily and for those communities to establish power and identity. However, this convergence might also keep users from becoming involved with multiple perspectives on the internet, so that diverging perspectives start to seem more and more alien and grotesque. The chapter ends on a few notes discussing the many ways a system of consensus might help our culture and our politics if it existed (and indeed in many ways it already exists) on the internet.  

Conclusions: The Critical Utopian v. the Critical Pessimist

To end the chapter Jenkins starts to make broader claims about the possibilities for media convergence, and displays his own arguments in conjunction with the opposing viewpoints on the power of participatory culture and media convergence. Jenkins describes a number of “critical pessimists” who are wary of new media as a way to empower consumers or to nudge us towards a more democratic use of media. These other scholars point to the ways that corporate interests always eventually take control of media outlets, and that it is unclear exactly how participatory media enables users. Still more scholars contend that our interactions with traditional broadcast media have shaped our interactions with media in ways which we will then apply to new media, and that changing the media does not necessarily change the way we interact with it. To this Jenkins labels himself a “critical utopian” in his belief in media convergence. Jenkins ends on an interesting note: we aren’t going to escape social media. And as long as we aren’t going to “…opt out of media altogether and live in the woods, eating acorns and lizards and reading only books published on recycled paper by small alternative presses…” then we must accept the consequences of media convergence, and look for the elements that can be utilized for the sake of a democratic future.  

Questions: 

In what ways does our previous discussion of parody v. fan fiction relate to Jenkin's discussion of The Daily Show?

Considering the place of photoshop on the internet, has photoshop become a tool of the tech-savy as opposed to the every man? How many people need to take advantage of the technology in order for it to become democratized? Or is it simply the relatively low economic access point that makes the difference?

In what ways do photoshop, podcasting, and Youtube videos constitute different elements of media convergence? 

Photos @: 

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-e99N9QOY0GE/TbeKxnQjrhI/AAAAAAAAHxQ/ho4ThbfX8wg/apathy.jpg

http://img1.tvloop.com/img/showpics/61/fe/l342c507c0000_1_17699.jpg

http://www.garydcohen.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/Passive-Social-Media.jpg

Fan F(r)iction: When Do Fans Have Too Much Power?

Both of the chapters this week seemed to have a strong relationship between the texts that consumers create and the way that these texts challenge or develop the existing media. Chapter 4 has more to do with film contexts, and the way that these contexts often relate to seemingly “amateur” materials, or the celebration of using a minimal budget. Chapter 5 seemed to have more to do with the relationship of fan texts to books, and thus had stronger ties to educational concerns and the way that written materials impinge on our understanding of reality. But there is a strong correlation between these two chapters, and so I will talk about them together in my blog post for this week.

Lowering the Barriers For Consumer Interaction

Both chapters talked about increased participation and interactivity as a result of the greater ability of fans to spread their media around, and to then communicate with other fans. On the one hand this has to do with the actual modes of production, as we see with the lowered cost for cameras and editing equipment. On the other hand it has to do with the access to a community of like minded readers in the case of Fan-Fiction writers. The result of this lowered area for access is to allow consumers to take action with or without the support of the corporate system that created the initial texts.

While the younger generation is open to the possibilities of these new modes of production, I was interested in the moments where Jenkins expressed the concern that only more sub-par quality items are being created. But while a greater amount of “crap” will be proliferated, he points to the fact that the larger the group of consumers, the greater the chance that new and amazing productions will be created. While some might imagine, then that the large breadth of fan-texts might dilute the overall product, it seemed like the flock of consumers revealed where some of the deepest loyalties were proliferated in the fan base.

For example, the fans of Star Wars have mostly created light saber battle movies, demonstrating their desire for more action, and the distaste for the childhood back story of Aniken Skywalker. In the Harry Potter Fan Fiction, many of the fans have channeled their ideas into talking about the world of being a student, about dealing with parents, school, and teachers. So while many of these texts might not be the best quality, they open up a space for the producers to understand where the fan base wants to go.

What Jenkins only briefly touched on was how producers need to negotiate the needs/desires of the fans while also creating the product that they want to create. If the fans had control, there would be a remarkably different product out there, but should they be satiated? Jenkins seems to attribute these fan-creations to doing a lot of good, but at the same time, the producers must be careful to still create the type of product that they were working on in the first place. How much should the fan’s interest drive the product? This almost feels like the same argument of the sophomore release of a popular band. On the one hand they want to stay “true to themselves” but then again this truth has to partially rest on being something new, trying something different. Perhaps these impulses were partially covered in the chapter on Survivor but I guess I’m still not convinced.

Genre and Media Convergence

Another fascinating aspect of these two chapters is how the genre of media came into play of what was allowed to be produced and what came under the label of copyright infringement. Parody, which seemed to be a common way for fans to relate to the texts/films, were not as stringently policed as serious genres such as fan fiction. Jenkins rationale for this was that the serious elements, or even the more seemingly trivial ones, took away from the actual story that the writer/producer had created, where as more critical or parodic avenues had marked themselves as commentary, and thus were less dangerous to the franchise as a storyline.

This marks both an interest and a problem, possibly. Jenkins talks about how the policing of fan fiction relates to the way females aren’t thought of as participatory. Men are more likely to create parody texts, and thus their voices are more likely to come out, while females often create fan fiction, and thus are more likely to be silenced. It seemed like these moments about how different genres are allowed to be published by fans, can spawn further discussion about the relationship of humor to media.

Questions:

How does integrating media into Christian values/doctorine change the way the religion is processed and interpreted? How does it change the way we often tie together “conservatism” as religious and less technologically oriented?

In what other ways to consumers re-appropriate the material elements of consumer culture in order to create their own artifacts in a similar sense to the way Star Wars fans used action figures?

Critical and Parodic texts tend to be more allowed because they mark themselves as removed from the original texts, in what ways do these types of texts impinge on the original texts in a way that is similarly transformative as “serious” fan fictions?        
Images @:
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQLA6pTJmHOFw03fmLCiQZGIDgyevRGOlIQSf_9TC8g4BoUk9kmmu5NR_t5CPPR-cqyeyxB2T2CeJFadcCDuI-9_b5YyNaVU0yxFf4yC3NDWemYahteM4q8rzmRXG6rhuJycZVCKxEVE/s1600/tumblr_lfodi8XxKH1qa4vjfo1_500.png
http://partysupplieswholesale.us/wp-content/uploads/aes/Party-Supplies-Wholesale-Birthday-Halloween-Costumes_2958.jpg
http://s3-ak.buzzfed.com/static/imagebuzz/web04/2011/9/1/14/george-lucas-explains-his-alterations-to-the-orig-32736-1314902013-1.jpg

Creating Something Profitable, Creating Something Dynamic

Reality Show Analysis 2: American Idol

Loyals, Zappers, Casuals

In the second chapter Jenkins covers the rise of the American Idol Franchise as a way of talking about the relationship between producers and consumers of fairly traditional television media. Televised media in particular is at a point of crisis, mainly due to the large number of available channels on the typical television set. Both in terms of advertising and entertainment, television executives are trying to find a way to hold the viewer’s interest in a competitive atmosphere. In the rise of reality television one way of creating this interest is by designing avenues for the public to interact with the show.
While the last chapter mostly discussed the fan community, this one addressed the perspective of an ad executive trying to market a product. From their perspective, viewers can be divided into three large categories. “Loyals” are the type of viewer that might only have a few shows that they watch, but they watch them obsessively. The second category is made up of “zappers” which is comprised of the viewers who surf the channels looking for interesting content, and switching as soon as they feel bored. The third type is the “casual” which is the kind of viewer that lies in the middle of these two categories. The Important facet of mentioning each of these aspects is that a group of all different viewing types delivers a good viewing experience. The loyalists inform the casuals and the zappers and vice versa.       

The Exchange Rate of Commodification

Another facet of the American Idol chapter talked about the amount of product placement that goes on with the show, which audiences see to be particularly receptive to when it comes to reality television. Jenkins delves into how the ad agencies tie the product to the show across the media entities, so that while, on the show, the product might be as subtle as a cup, the online experience is littered with coke ads. The viewer, it seems, is usually aware of this kind of advertising, and the viewer usually has a better brand recall for the show, which works well for advertisers. The viewers don’t seem to mind terribly, though they do begin to become more savy and opinionated about the way the brand works in the show. Viewers, especially with respect to American Idol, can become suspicious of something which appears to be a corporate enterprise, especially when the show doesn’t work “like it should.”

In terms of the viewers as a commodity, Jenkins describes it as a double edged sword. On the one hand the community gains recognition, but on the other hand the direction of the community is taken out of their direct control, and is distributed to a wide variety of political and economic projects. The stabilization of the community’s content also renders it motionless, unable to grow and evolve with the existing fanbase. What they saw as something interesting or beautiful is now an advertising pitch.     

The Matrix Frachcise: More Media Than You Can Shake a Gun At

The third chapter was particularly interesting because it talked about producers who are trying to incorporate multiple-media narratives into traditional media environments. Specifically touching on the Matrix franchise, Jenkins runs through the ways that film movie executives are exploring combinations of film, television, Internet, and gaming in order to write the narrative.

Jenkins, unlike the popular media critics, celebrates the Wachowski brother’s attempt. They integrated all kinds of plot lines and allusions for the viewer to find. Many of these elements were built to get the viewer more involved with the movie series, but others dragged the viewer out into the Marix “world” through animated series and games. These elements connected plot points and developed characters, as well as threw more allusive devices and easter eggs for the viewer to find. From Jenkins’ point of view, the franchise allowed for a large variety of possible meanings, and should be celebrated for its ability to run across media formats.

The movie critics, however, didn’t share Jenkins’ opinions. They thought the films felt disconnected and strange. They felt little need to look at discussion boards or play video games in order to understand the broader significance of the later movies. Jenkins calls for a new mode of criticism for reading trans-media texts, one which considers the involvement of different forms of media as a way to go deeper into the “world.” Instead of creating a plot, or creating characters, Jenkins talks about how creating an entire world is necessary for the viewers to get involved in the storyline. The problem for advertisers is that each viewer gets a different experience from these types of texts, they all have a different interpretation. This makes it difficult for trans-media texts to affect large audiences in ways that critics are used to, and so the chapter seems to come down to this simple dynamic: Jenkins’ optimism about the artistic merit of the product vs. the disconnect of consumers and critics from a movie that is not just a movie.   

Questions:

How can people create trans-media artifacts when we have grown to expect a cohesive narrative out of each individual media element? How can one negotiate the difficult space between disconnected pieces and meaningless subsidiary components.

Jenkins mentions that parody is an element of fan culture. How then might the producers of content value the comedic content created by consumers? Can the comedic content lead to the subversion of content, and if so is this something that the producer should be worried about?

Toward the end of the Matrix chapter, Jenkins calls our attention to the way critics detest the impulse to obsess over something like the Matrix franchise. They see it as the accumulation of useless information, and Jenkins does little to prove them wrong. How might we argue for the benefits of involvement in a "fan culture" as they relate to a larger cultural scope?


Images @
http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2008/09/19/article-1058095-0083C0240000044C-129_468x349.jpg
http://graphjam.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/americanidol.gif
http://live360.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/animatrix_011.jpg