The Sharing-Culture Electorate

Introduction: Electability in the Internet Age

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.

What's transparent about these little social rituals?

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.

Examples: The Astroturf Revolution

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.

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.

Conclusion: The Problem We Face

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.

-- AndrewReich - 01 Apr 2013