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The Sharing-Culture Electorate | | |
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The Sharing-Culture Electorate | |
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< | | | | Introduction: Electability in the Internet Age
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< | Senator Rand Paul recently made news when he observed in an interview that the last two U.S. presidents “could conceivably have been put in jail for their drug use,” ruining their lives, and, presumably, preventing their presidencies from ever having happened. His interviewer corrected him to three presidents (and I would imagine that there are even more). The Senator’s point was part of a larger argument about drug policy but his example raises some interesting questions about privacy. We spoke in class about the Louisiana governor who flippantly declared that the “only way I can lose this election is if I’m caught in bed with either a dead girl or a live boy,” but of course today a politician (or a criminal defendant or anyone else) need not be caught in the act for his adversaries to use his digital footprint against him. Today, intimate details about our lives are shared online and peddled on the free market with relative ease and great frequency, sometimes with and sometimes without our consent. We know about this trend and its interplay with the Fourth Amendment. But in a time when a single email or Internet search, free for the taking, could be the smoking gun that changes a life or a career, we might also wonder how this trend will affect how we choose our leaders, and more specifically how anyone coming of age in this era of hyperconnectivity will ever be electable in the future.
The illustration has
nothing to do with the idea. Comment on the drug usage of other US
Presidents (at times when other drugs were more talked about)
occurred in other eras, as did every other kind of malignant gossip.
You want to concentrate, as you say, on what is novel, happening
now.
Prediction: The Share-or-Perish Ethos
One answer is that Americans will become conditioned to adhere to a sort of share-or-perish ethos. While historically politicians hid their past transgressions, the future may see a sharing-culture electorate that will demand, to some extent, full disclosure in exchange for forgiveness. (A notable example: Barack Obama chose to reveal his cocaine use before his presidential run, sparing himself much criticism, while George W. Bush’s cocaine use was revealed later and met with the usual indignation.)
The conventions of
different forms of Christian culture, including forms of public
repentance and forgiveness, have been with us a long time.
This is a good thing if it leads to greater transparency in our elections. | >
> | We spoke in class about the Louisiana governor who flippantly declared that the “only way I can lose this election is if I’m caught in bed with either a dead girl or a live boy.” Of course today a politician (or anyone else for that matter) need not be caught in the act for her adversaries to use her digital footprint against her. Today, intimate details about our lives are shared online and peddled on the free market with relative ease and great frequency, sometimes with and sometimes without our consent. We already know about this trend and its interplay with the Fourth Amendment. But, in a time when political mudslinging need no longer rely on gossip and conjecture, and instead will inevitably arise from hard digital “evidence” like photos, videos, emails, and cookies, additional questions arise as to how the rampant sharing and collecting of digital information might affect how we choose our leaders. | | | | |
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> | In this era of hyperconnectivity, we are sharing more and more about ourselves, and our leaders and future leaders are sharing too. This might not be noteworthy if it were a grassroots phenomenon—there might not be anything inherently wrong with choosing to share more about ourselves. But that is of course not the case. To an extent, it is the entities that stand to benefit the most economically from our sharing that are inducing us to share more, most notably through consumer marketing campaigns and various sorts of cultural prodding. If this semi-Astroturf evolution results in a change in how we elect our leaders, perhaps by leading us to expect more sharing of private information from potential leaders, and if we never ourselves intended for this to happen, then we might be ceding more control over our destiny than we thought to entities that do not necessarily have our best interests at heart. | | | | |
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What's transparent about these little social rituals?
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> | Step 1: The Astroturf Revolution | | | | |
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> | It is not news that the sharing-culture is a less-than-organic movement. That is to say, we have had a subtle but nagging encouragement from those who benefit most from our sharing. | | | | |
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< | But more perverse results are just as likely: certain entities could at once induce the sharing culture, possess our information, and use it for political influence. It is not news that the sharing-culture is not an entirely organic movement. That is to say, we have had some not-so-subtle encouragement from those who benefit most from our sharing. The processes at work, then, seem to constitute not so much a grassroots revolution as an Astroturf one. | >
> | Take, for example, a 30-second TV and Internet ad for Sprint. The spot seeks to convince the viewer that he has a duty to upload his life: “We can share every second,” it says. “I need to upload all of it.” Do I? The ad inspires a chicken and egg question—does the sentiment accurately reflect our wants and needs, or does it impose them upon us? I imagine the ad both reflects and imposes this desire to share, but I am more concerned about the latter. If our increasing engagement in online sharing and interaction is a sort of cultural evolution (consider that the word meme was initially coined by evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins to explain such phenomena) then perhaps it will not be long before an expectation of oversharing invades our political rituals as well. | | | | |
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< | Examples: The Astroturf Revolution | >
> | In another example of corporate-induced online participation, a very revealing article outlines the origins of a recent and ubiquitous online fad involving self-made videos of a certain dance craze. The article points out that, contrary to its perception as a spontaneous bottom-up cultural phenomenon, the trend was actually the result of a heavily pre-meditated marketing attempt, ignited by business interests and then fueled and perpetuated by consumer participants. | | | | |
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< | Take, for example, a 30-second TV and Internet ad for Sprint. The spot seeks to convince iPhone users that they need an unlimited data plan that apparently only Sprint can offer them. In the process, the voiceover narration imposes on the viewer a sense of entitlement and even duty to upload: “We can share every second,” it says. “My iPhone 5 can see . . . the entire gallery of humanity. I need to upload all of it. I need—no I have the right to be unlimited.” Do I? The ad inspires a chicken and egg question—does the sentiment accurately reflect our wants and needs, or does it impose them upon us? (Perhaps more egregiously, at which point does my pretend right to be unlimited begin to interfere with the real rights of others to be anonymous? Recall again our discussion of the Fourth Amendment’s increasing obsolescence). I imagine the ad both reflects and imposes, but I am more concerned about the latter. If our increasing engagement in online sharing and interaction is a sort of cultural evolution (the word meme was initially coined by evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins to explain such phenomena) then perhaps it is important for us to know who is partially behind it. Consider the implications of an Astroturf, rather than grassroots, evolution. | >
> | This initial process is nothing new or shocking—academics like Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer observed long ago how culture can be factory-produced to cultivate a false sense of need in consumers (and we talked extensively in class about our transition from a production economy to a consumer one). But to the extent that the sharing culture will next begin to alter the way in which we select our leaders, then it becomes even more important to be aware of who is partially behind it. | | | | |
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> | Step 2: The Share-or-Perish Ethos | | | | |
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< | I don't know what it's
either. Could we begin by asking whether the advertisement is
accurate? Then, if the "unlimited" plan isn't actually unlimited,
we'll know better what we should talk about.
In another example of corporate-induced online participation, a recent article in an online news magazine outlined the origins of the recent online fad involving self-made videos of a dance called the Harlem Shake. The article points out that, contrary to its perception as a spontaneous bottom-up cultural phenomenon, the trend was actually the result of a heavily pre-meditated marketing attempt, ignited by business interests and then fueled and perpetuated by consumer participants. The process is nothing new or shocking—academics like Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer observed long ago that culture is often factory-produced so as to cultivate a false sense of need in consumers (and we talked extensively in class about our transition from a production economy to a consumer one). But the culture that is being factory-produced of late is not only pop culture and consumer culture but, specifically and importantly, this sharing culture.
Well, why should that be a surprise?
This culture encourages us constantly to share photos and ideas, announce our locations, and intentionally or unintentionally reveal a great deal about ourselves through our online behavior. More importantly, it encourages us to expect that type of behavior from others, including our current and future elected leaders. | >
> | The expectation of super-sharing in an election context has consequences. The sharing culture encourages us constantly to share photos and ideas, announce our locations, and intentionally or unintentionally reveal a great deal about ourselves through our online behavior. But more importantly, it encourages us to expect that type of behavior from others, including our current and future elected leaders. It seems possible that we will become conditioned to elect our leaders by a sort of share-or-perish ethos. While historically politicians hid their past "transgressions," the future may see a sharing-culture electorate that will demand, to some extent, full disclosure in exchange for a chance at forgiveness. At times this may help us filter out unwanted candidates. At other times, this may create false barriers to entry that disqualify good men and women who can legitimately effect positive change but who have even a modicum of controversy in their pasts. Public displays of repentance constitute a time-honored ritual in politics. But they are not always successful. What happens when good people are barred from leadership because their private thoughts have become a matter of public record? Worse yet, what happens when we begin to punish potential future leaders for not being over-sharers like the rest of us? | | | Conclusion: The Problem We Face | |
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< | At what point should we begin to worry? Is it when the electorate abides by the sharing ethos and chooses its leaders differently (consider who possesses much of the information we share online—might these companies hold the key to disqualifying leaders they do not like)? Or is it when our leaders themselves begin to abide by the sharing ethos when they pass laws freeing telecoms from liability for turning over data about their customers (demonstrating that the same parties masterminding the sharing trend might also be benefiting from it not only financially but also politically)?
How did you manage to connect these endpoints? You certainly didn't prepare the reader for the connection, if there is one.
The ability to exchange information and knowledge online has surely been beneficial to our democracy, but if we want to protect that benefit then the sharing culture and its sponsors should at least be under our microscopes. Until then, the best we can do is share our concern. | >
> | We are already aware of the influence that companies who collect our information have over our current leaders. But we should further consider that these companies might change how we govern ourselves by raising sharing expectations. The ability to exchange information and knowledge online has surely been beneficial to our democracy, but if we want to protect that benefit then the sharing culture and its sponsors should at least be under our microscopes. Until then, the best we can do is share our concern. | | | -- AndrewReich - 01 Apr 2013 |
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