What Else is There to Talk About?

The Day the Texting Died

2009-11-03T18:21:00.000-08:00

T-Mobile's services have been failing tonight. I discovered this when someone called me and told me that they were having trouble texting me. I then tried to send a text and it bounced back. Then, I tried to call T-Mobile customer support to find out if the problem was with my network. When I didn't get an answer (all agents busy, don't even bother hanging on, call back later), I knew it wasn't just me. I then googled T-Mobile news and got a story, posted within the previous 30 minutes, that T-Mobile was having massive outages. Kinda neat how I was able to find out how big the problem was so quickly.

Then, I went over to twitter (the news article in pcmag mentioned outraged phone users taking to twitter to register their disgust w/ tmobile). Indeed, it was clogged with complaints about T-Mobile. My first reaction was laughter. There was something that just struck me as funny about how upset people were about losing texting service. It was the kind of exaggerated outrage that pervades online fora (LOTS OF CAPS, EXPLETIVES, AND EXXXCLAMATION POINTS, DAMMITT!!!!!!). Maybe I felt entitled to laugh at this outrage (or self-parodying fake outrage (fauxtrage?)) b/c I was in the same boat as them. For me, it was a comically minor inconvenience, one that, frankly, prevented me from being distracted by getting into a text conversation (though here I am, avoiding my work by blogging, so maybe the outage didn't help my productivity after all).

Then I checked myself. It would be bad to laugh about a total failure of telephone lines. Phone lines are used by emergency units to save people's lives. While I know that it wasn't everyone who lost texting capabilities (I guess some lost voice, some lost both), it got me to thinking about what it would mean for lots of people to lose the ability to text for a night. Would there be anything seriously bad about that?

It got me to thinking about the overall character of texting. Is there really anything serious about it? There's the hyper-coordination, so an outage might mean a bunch of people would get slightly lost or be slightly late, and get ticked off at one another. I suppose it is possible that if someone didn't know about the outage and was waiting for a call or a text, they might think that the other person was ignoring them, causing stress in the relationship (maybe even the end of a (probably already tenuous) relationship?). Imagine that happening to thousands of people at once.

But really, I feel like the overall character (aside from coordination) of texting is joking, flirting, and gossiping. What would it mean to lose that for a night? One could study this in the way that Berelson (1962) studied what it meant to live without the newspaper for awhile back in the day. Maybe it'll be a nice moment of self-reflection for people. That's what its been for me.

What it Means to Like/Hate a TV Show

2009-10-05T12:58:00.000-07:00

The question seems simple enough: what TV shows do you like?

This phrasing aims to compare two variables: individuals (you, and other people answering the question) and TV shows. It doesn't take into account certain episodes or aspects of TV shows and certain moods or states or stages in life of an individual, or the intensity of liking or the duration of liking. There's not really a problem with this, as temporary changes in mood can be averaged out, as can the better or worse episodes of a TV show. Indeed, whenever anyone is asked a question such as this, they engage in that kind of averaging.

But there's one particular facet of TV that doesn't get averaged out by a viewer, but rather is ignored, or treated as a separate question: what kind of TV shows do you like when you're around other people. My intuition is that people would answer the first question with shows they like to watch by themselves, more apt to ignore the shows they watch with others (after all, they probably like them less). But the shows people watch with others have just as much of an effect on them. They still spend their time watching them and still pay attention to the ads embedded in the programs. In short, we tend not to think of shows we watch with others but they still have an impact on us. Arguably, this question matters because given the rise of mobile viewing devices, online viewing, more time-shifting, and changing patterns of co-habitation, we're watching more and more TV content by ourselves. As Morley and others have noted, watching TV was a social act, as fraught with domestic power dynamics as cooking or sex. Not any more, perhaps.

Even the definition of "liking" a TV show changes for me depending on whether I'm watching with someone, or even discussing a TV show with someone. I could see myself “liking” Sex & the City, or So You Think You Can Dance, or country music, or Christian music, or 80’s music, if I was watching it/listening to it/discussing with someone who liked those things. More precisely, I could find something to like in each of those things. I don't think I would be lying by saying that I found something to like about those things. They would genuinely lead to some sort of positive affect. If I'm by myself, my standards are much higher (or different). These days, I can barely find any music or TV that I can tolerate for more than a minute that (in the case of music) doesn’t exactly fit my mood or (in the case of TV) isn’t Mad Men or sports without changing the channel or shuffling through my ITunes.

Also, its funny how liking of media, amongst any group, tends not be uniformly hierarchical. That is, many "favorited" shows are also near the top of other people's most hated shows lists. But perhaps this is true with all matters of taste. Let’s say we were ranking any other thing not related to taste (greatest football teams, tallest buildings). It seems odd that someone could hate Citizen Kane or Seinfeld when others have written endless paeans to their objective greatness. People who hated these shows or movies wouldn’t think that those films/shows were just "less great" than whatever they happened to love. They would think they were among the worst.

More Technology in Our Lives = What, exactly?

2009-08-19T08:19:00.000-07:00

This morning, I woke, flipped on the radio, stumbled out of be bed, turned off the radio, cracked open my laptop, checked my email, went to digg, and then remembered an article I'd been meaning to read about how people are using more technology (such as laptops and mobile devices) right when they wake up, before breakfast even.

I've had a lot of conversations like this article: we all agree that the internet and cell phones have changed the ways we live. We spend more time staring at these lil' screens that weren't in our lives 10 years ago, which certainly seems weird. But so what? "Weird" and "interesting" just doesn't cut it for me anymore. Before I can give this topic any more thought, I need to think of plausible positive and negative outcomes of networked technology use.

Let's start w/ the assumption that there are three levels of use: no use, light use, and heavy use.

1: Heavy use strengthens bonds with peers (friends & co-workers) but weakens bonds with family or domestic partners. This will lead to domestic dysfunction, resulting in increased rates of depression in all members of the household and will effect young children in the house especially negatively in terms of their cognitive and emotional development.

This seems to be behind the "technology eats into our family time" worries. Most of what people do w/ these devices IS social, so its not the worry that we might have when someone is playing video games by themselves or watching TV by themselves. To put it in Granovetter's terms, we might say that heavy use erodes our few strong ties and replaces them with many weak ties. For light users, weak ties are simply added to our social mix, but heavy users experience a weakening of the strong ties: less time w/ close ones, less sharing of deeply personal feelings, etc.

2: Heavy use cultivates a new kind of social bond, one that has some characteristics of a strong tie (lots of time devoted to a person, intimate knowledge of that person, tendency to share intimate secrets, similar interests and opinions) and some characteristics of a weak tie (not feeling bad if you can't make it to an important event in their lives, shorter in duration, more plentiful, not as many common links between the two). These new kinds of social ties are, on some unconscious level, easily mistaken for strong ties. The heavy user thinks they are creating a secure, lasting bond, but is actually creating a weak link that is as susceptible to dissolution as any other weak link. Over time, this leads to increased life dissatisfaction and decreased domestic harmony which leads to cognitively/emotionally deprived children.

It is important to note that this claim is not based solely on whether these people met online or IRL, or on whether one uses an online identity that is somehow linked to their real world identity (it is assumed that the online identity is linked to real-world identity in some way, as this is far more common a practice than sustained, anonymous relationships). The real question is: does your brain categorize the person as a member of the relatively small, real life community or as a member of the almost endless online community. I think that is determined in part by whether you met online or IRL, but also by the heavy use of networked technologies to maintain an existing bond, especially if that technology is used heavily in the early stages of the relationship. Part of your brain says, "this person is really close to me. They know things about me that no one else knows. We talk all the time. Our relationship is unique." Another part of your brain says, "there are other people whom I could communicate with in similar ways. Search technology is getting better and better. Perhaps I could find someone who is like this person, but without those annoying flaws and incompatibilities." That part of the brain assembles a composite friend or mate from various blogs, videos, articles, and internet detritus, thinking "these super-cool characteristics exist out there, and they're real. They're not just some fabrication of Hollywood screenwriters. Its realistic to think that there's a person with those characteristics."

This leads to a kind of cognitive dissonance, or worse, an inability to see what is creating the dissatisfaction. Heavy users may start to think of themselves as the kinds of people who weren't meant to have many close friends, as transient, somewhat alienated individuals who are a bit unhappy, but are resigned to their fates and have hope of achieving some kind of domestic bliss in the distant future once they "meet the right person." Really, they are different than a person who has achieved that domestic harmony not in terms of who their core selves are, but only in terms of the ways they chose to communicate and form bonds with others. If a link between heavy use of networked technologies and long-term life dissatisfaction (or domestic harmony, in which kidz suffer somehow) could be made apparent, then a heavy users might have something outside of their own flawed abilities to tell the difference between a strong tie and a weak one, who is compatible and who is not.

3. Those who do not use networked technologies will feel an increased sense of alienation and depression. Because they're not in the social loop, they get the feeling that people are talking about them behind their backs (which may or may not be true), they don't get invited to as many social events, and generally are at a significant disadvantage when it comes to forming strong or weak ties. They meet people in real life, but when they refuse to maintain that relationship w/ networked technologies, the relationship withers, as the other person thinks, "this is just too hard to maintain. Its easier to bond with this other person who is more social." I wonder about this possibility every time I hear someone say "I'm not going to let my kid have a cell phone or a facebook account no matter what his or her friends have!"

So, one important project would be to re-examine what is meant by "strong tie" and "weak tie." Lots of sociological work, including everything derived from Robert Putnam's work, makes certain assumptions about the characteristics of these ties that need to be rethought. And then, how the fuck do we go about measuring any of this? I suppose Putnam's and Granovetter's studies lay the groundwork. Is it just a matter of asking how much you use social media, how happy you are, and including the right moderating/mediating variables? How do you teaste out the personality traits and worldviews that result in low life satisfaction from the use variables? Maybe some focus groups with heavy users in which we discuss relationship satisfaction would be a first step. In any case, this will all take years to play out. Part of my claim is that the duration of strong ties will be shorter, maybe 5 years average as opposed to 10 or 20.

Why we hate TV now more than ever

2009-08-15T08:29:00.000-07:00

If, indeed, more people feel more hate towards television than ever before (example of said hatred, which is usually directed at reality-based programs), here is a possible explanation that relies on technological and economic factors rather than some general decline of morals, behavior, or taste:

Since the rise of reality-based programming (due, in part, to the writers' strike of the late 90's), there is a pipe-line for cheap programming and lots of channels and timeslots to fill.
More tastes, desires, and values can be catered to cheaply on TV than ever before. Those varied tastes, desires, and values always existed, but before the rise of cheap-2-produce TV, only certain "elite" tastes could be catered to.
There is a new kind of diversity in terms of the desires that are being catered to through TV programming. Because of how deeply synergistic TV is (w/ cross-channel promos, program lead-ins), you can't just get your little bit of tailored content. You have to be exposed to other content not intended for you, unlike the internet where you can go to your favorite sites and generally avoid the variety of sites that cater to other preferences and lifestyles and whatnot. Its not the diversity of values expressed on TV that drives people to hate it: its the fact that you're almost forced to be exposed to those other values.

It is, of course, also possible that TV encourages or legitimizes disparate value systems and, thus, ratchets up people's pre-existing knee-jerk distaste for behavior that they can't understand. Reality TV gives people an excuse to hate people who behave differently than they do. What could the other explanation of people's strong hatred of certain programs be? I doubt that its b/c these programs are poorly crafted. I think that when people see something they don't like on TV, they don't just think about the fuckhead that created it, but also think about the audience for the program. They believe in the premise that TV can promote, cultivate, or instill values in an audience, and they fear the erosion of their own values in the face of those of The Hills or Jerry Springer or whatever. But those are real people on those shows. Its not like you're just hating fictional characters if you hate those shows. You're hating (at least semi-)real people. Do people who hate reality based TV shows hate them b/c of the characters' behavior (which is quite different than behavior exhibited in previous fictional TV programs) or is there an added layer to that hatred based on the fact that those are real people that they're hating?

This whole theory of mine may be wrong in that its based on a few people I happen to know and a few blogs I read. Maybe only certain people hate TV more now or feel that hate more strongly (the people who were being catered to during the network era).

Its also possible that some of the people who watch the shows other people hate like the show but hate the people in the show. For instance, you could like The Hills and hate Spencer. In fact, many reality-based shows understand the ways viewers love to hate people by positioning the subjects in each show as simultaneously sympathetic and laughable subjects of derision. In effect, the viewers identify with an invisible narrator who is relaying other people's stupid behavior for their amusement. Is She Really Going Out With Him on MTV is a good example. The men are laughable, but are the women? To some, yes. And the men are, in some sense, successful, in that they're rich, good-looking, and they're getting laid, so a viewer could look up to the them, feel attracted to them, or identify with them. But you can also hate them while liking to watch the show.

When someone says, "I cannot believe people watch Flavor of Love, I hate that show," they may imagine that the show is on the air because other people like or identify with the characters and behavior on the show. That is, after all, why they as viewers watch TV. But maybe other people, particularly younger people, watch shows in order to hate others, and are able to make the distinction between show (which they love) and characters (which they hate). Or maybe its some kind of mixture of love and hate that they get from watching it.

After googling "Most Hated TV," I did get the sense that people hate reality-based TV, as a whole genre or individual shows. They also hate comedies that they don't find funny, and popular shows that they don't understand the appeal of, maybe b/c they're hard to avoid (American Idol).

Mad Moods

2009-08-11T14:12:00.000-07:00

When I've been reading a novel a lot or watching a novel-like show a lot, it alters my default thoughts, moods, and my inner dialog. I'll be walking across campus, between appointments, distracted from work for a moment, and my thoughts will drift back to a song from the TV show or a certain moment from the narrative. In some sense, I'm always occupying that world, whether or not I'm reading or watching the story at any given moment.

So it goes w/ Mad Men right now. I'd just re-discovered the first season, watching all of season 1 in a week. Now, I'm making my way through season 2 for the second time in preparation for the beginning of the third season next weekend. The mood of Mad Men is something like the mood of The Sopranos - pretty dark w/ touches of detached, sarcastic levity. Hardly the mood you would choose to be in all the time. Did I choose to watch Mad Men because it had qualities that helped me put my life in perspective in some way, as Mary Beth Oliver hypothesizes in her writings about sad and meaningful media? Maybe. But thinking about it strictly in terms of mood, the show puts me in a somewhat reflective mood but seems to have inoculated me against slipping into very bad moods. If I had watched some comedy like Arrested Development, or some other distraction, I might have experienced a temporary boost in mood that might have even carried over a bit into the rest of my life. But then I would be reminded of some dark thought that would bring my mood way down and nothing about my media experience could help with that. If anything, it might even hurt more given the contrast between the two moods and the two worlds. But w/ Mad Men and similar "bad mood" shows, those unhappy thoughts and the events that trigger them can happen to me (and they will always happen to me - that's life) and I won't be brought as low by them.

We could call shows like Mad Men "reflective media," something that had this carry-over effect on mood after you've stopped watching (but only if you're really into the show), enhancing your ability to deal w/ situations and other bad thoughts and bad moods.

Still, it might be causing me to dwell on unhappier aspects of my life. Or it might just give color and shape to the moods and thoughts that are results of my real life situations and material experience. Maybe I'm pulling the darker moments out of a show full of dark & light moments b/c that's what I need at this time. That's what makes this so fascinating to study: I don't have an intuitive grasp on whether my mood is affecting my interpretation of the show, the show is affecting my mood, or both or neither is affecting each other. Its too glib to say that they both affect each other, though that may be true. I need to know the degree to which they affect each other and the circumstances in which those effects hold up. Not to say that mood is all that matters. I wouldn't want media or anything else to make me a happy idiot, and I wouldn't want people to stop reading Hamlet b/c its too depressing. Still, I'd like to know a bit more about what causes what, especially when it comes to these indirect, lingering effects on my default moods.

Pros and Cons of Road Tripping w/ IPhones

2009-07-30T10:55:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a road trip from Ann Arbor to Missoula. I was accompanied by two good friends, one of which had an IPhone, the other of which had a Blackberry. I have neither of these mobile technologies. Due to the sudden and complete immersion into a social atmosphere in a limited physical space (my car) in which the distribution of technology was unequeal, I came away with some thoughts on what the technologies mean/do to us.

First off, its silly to say that the technology is good or bad. It is both. The better questions are: "when do these technologies cause social or emotional tension and when do they provide enjoyable experiences for the group or the individual?"

I pointed out to my friends that the use of these phones was stunting conversation in the car and thus making the trip worse for (at the very least) me and potentially alienating us from one another (we don't hang out very often b/c we live in different cities). I felt doubly alienated b/c I didn't know what they were doing on the phones. Were they playing a video game, reading an article, talking to someone else? I felt like I wasn't entertaining enough to be chosen over these other options, which was annoying. They informed me that they were mostly checking and responding to work email. They acknowledged my concerns, but said they wouldn't be able to take vacations like this unless they had devices on whcih to check in on work. Thus, they viewed the phones as enabling more vacation time, more social flexibility, which would make up for the minimal tension created when they both logged on and I sat there doing nothing.

Other times, the phones were used to answer questions, as kind of an Oracle to defer to, to settle disputes. We would argue over how geographers determined where the exact center of the United States was, or who an actor was in a TV show, and instead of going back and forth, we ventured guesses and then confirmed them using the internet. There's something about always having this technology with you (especially if you're out of the house often) that makes its impact on conversations, disputes, and knowledge that much more profound. Most often, we'd have a conversation about anything, then look up something related on wikipedia, and cite some obscure, amusing, related fact. So it was sort of an augmented conversation. I learned more, but it did seem to suck the spontineity out of the conversation at times. And there's something troubling about people citing jokes from the internet instead of making their own.

But the best/worst thing about them was their abilities to navigate. We had a big road atlas which we used, sometimes as a primary source of navigation and other times as a backup to the IPhone. We were aware of the hazards of using the IPhone or GPS as exclusive navigation device. The interesting thing is that those devices have deficiencies (inability to take into account some things a long term resident might know, like the tendency of a resident to park their car too close to the road, thus blocking us from passing) but every deficiency could be corrected if the technology is sufficietly open. The IPhone led us to a closed-for-repair pizza joint in Chicago and a blocked dirt road in Montana. But if someone had been able to upload their personal knowledge of those places and it had instantly updated and been registered in a program that looks for patterns, then the device could incorporate the "folk wisdom" of local residents and been more effective. It was easy to say "there you go, making a false idol out of technology. Nothing will be as good as good ol' fashion human intuition," but I think that misses the point.

In the end, I don't think that the technological inequality detrimentally affected the social vibe in the car. We talked about as much as I would be happy w/ (a lot, to the point where if we talked any more, I would've lost my voice). If I had to venture one possible effect the technology had on the content of our conversations, it was the promotion of non-personal subjects over personal ones. You can't look on the internet for how you feel about something or something about your personal life, but you can look on it for just about everything else. You can even look up people you know on Facebook while talking about them, but that won't tell you how you feel about them. We never really talked too deeply about our personal lives, but maybe that's b/c we've always tended to joke around and debate various topics instead of getting all touchy-feely. Though maybe the tendencies of guys to use mobile technology around one another in certain ways, e.g. to look up stuff, is different from girls' tendencies to do this and that augments a pre-existing gap between single-gender groups in terms of how touchy-feely they get in conversations.

If nothing else, I wasn't sold on the idea of either of these technologies being worth what they're priced at. When I'm sitting at home by myself, its nice to have TV and internet. They are, in some sense, competing w/ books or me staring into space and being introspective. Mobile technologies like the IPhone, for me, would be competing w/ music, podcasts, NPR, and talking to other people, all of which cost me pretty much nothing and all of which kick ass.

The Pitfalls of Hypothesizing about Film Success

2009-06-29T10:20:00.001-07:00

Say we take a film like Transformers 2. The film, like most other films, has a lot going on, in its content and the circumstances under which it was released: grand spectacle, a link to something that is established in a target audience's cultural memory, an extensive marketing campaign, the fact that its a sequel, Shia LeBeouf, its director, its screenwriter, its late-June release not opposite of other big action blockbusters, etc. Which of these elements is most responsible for the film's success? Let's throw in another element of the film: Skids and Mudflap, two robots who (quoting the NYTimes piece) "talk in jive and are portrayed as illiterate; one has a gold tooth." The depictions have been called racist by many. Are these depictions reasons why the film is more successful, or is the film successful in spite of those depictions?

The questions are essentially unanswerable, but its not because film is Art and one cannot theorize about why some people like art and others don't, or why some art is profitabe and other art is not. It is so hard to predict why films, as opposed to other art forms, are successful or not b/c there are so few comparable films made and the circumstances of release (marketing, timing) play such a significant role in their success/failure. In order to determine what aspects of a product are responsible for its success, we need to make comparisons, but there are so few comparisons to be able to make that its harder to predict what will succeed. If you wanted to find out what elements of motion picture content made a certain text successful (e.g. certain choices in pacing, plotting, certain bigoted depictions, certain actors, lighting, etc), then you would look away from film and towards online video. There are simply more comparable texts, and the circumstances under which each video is watched are so varied that the uniqueness of each viewing can be considered to be random error and cancels out. What you're left with is a more pure comparison and better insight as to how motion pictures work on audiences than one you would try to do looking at a successful box office film like Transformers 2 and making generalizations about what aspects of the film resonated with the public. And yet film and cultural theorists have been doing just this, and continue to do just this: identifying certain characteristics of a film that possesses many charateristics, noting that the film was successfull, and then making claims about a culture's preferences.

Its interesting to consider recent advances in two untraditional predictions markets, both linked to the work of Nate Silver: presidential politics and baseball. Frankly, I don't know much about Silver's prediction models, but I'd guess he just takes discrete characteristics of each event (a race for office, a baseball game), takes a data set comprised of past events, and sees which characteristics, when all other characteristics are controlled for, exert the most influence on the outcome. You take those influences, assess the observable characteristics of the upcoming game/election, and make predictions of the outcome. With presidential elections, you have very few comparable events to use, while in baseball, you have many. In the former, I would think that you would have to start incorporating patterns in opinion polls (which fluctuate systematically based on various characteristics of world events and their coverage).

The trouble with film is that there aren't the equivalent of polls. Yes, there's test screenings, but those samples are so small and they're just used for minor recuts, not learning about why certain people like certain characteristics of films under certain circumstances. There's too little comparable data to work with. Perhaps the prevalence of remakes, reboots, adaptations is an attempt by producers to use the "data" of those other properties being successful with their suite of characteristics, and making a bet based on that. Its not very systematic, but in a way, I trust it more than I trust anyone who guesses that a film resonated or failed to resonate with the public b/c it was/wasn't successful at the box office and possessed a certain characteristic. That's just guesswork on their parts.

The Politics and Psychology of Academic Language

2009-06-15T12:33:00.001-07:00

The most lively panel I attended at this year's ICA conference was the "Keywords: Effects" panel. 4 panelists were, in their own ways, demanding that we move beyond "effects," or, to put it another way, were proclaiming the death of effects research. One problem with effects researchers: they proclaim to study actual real-world violence when they actually study people's tendencies to administer sound blasts to other people in a lab setting. Another problem is that effects studies only measure an effect at a set point in time when it is likely that true media effects take place gradually and constantly over time (so it would be better to call them "processes" than "effects"). Afterward, Ron Tamborini had a great comment, basically saying that the argument over effects research was a semantic one, and that proclaiming that "effects research is dead" is just a good way of scaring those new to the field that what they're doing is worthless. His comment garnered applause from some members of the audience, and I have to say that I agreed with what he was saying.

I've read and seen more disputes similar to this one. Basically, they take this form: one group of researchers does some research with obvious, acknowledged limitations. Despite the limitations, the research moves us beyond what we used to know about that phenomenon. They select a word for their work. Time passes and methods improve. Another group of researchers comes along and pokes holes in the work of the first group of researchers. At this point, two things can happen. The first group of researchers can take heed of the criticism and modify their methods while retaining the original term they used for the phenomenon or their study of that phenomenon OR the second group of researchers can come up with a new name, decry the old names for the old methods/constructs to be obsolete, and move the field forward.

Note that in both cases, the actual research, the actual methods and the actual bits of information that we know about a phenomenon are exactly the same. The debate is not over what we know, but over how much and in what ways language shapes our ideas of what we know. For decades, we've known that language matters, that word choice constricts and opens up ways of thinking. But this valuable observation has been used in only one way: to point out the ways in which existing power structures foreclose the possibility of new meanings. Unfortunately, it has not been applied to an equally common and equally problematic use of language: the invention of new words and terms to further one's career or to aid the progress of one's in-group. The side effects of this political use of language are that we get bogged down in semantic debates and the growth of our collective, public knowledge of actual phenomena is retarded (while smaller groups in the private sector accumulate vast amounts of knowledge about people). Though the intentions may be good and the observation that "language determines and is determined by power structures" is a valuable one, those making this observation have released a cacophany of go-nowhere neologisms that sell a few books and then are lost to academic linguistic history.

What I see too often is the construction of straw men by up-and-coming researchers who, instead of helping to build knowledge for all, make careers for themselves (nevermind whether they intend to do this; their motives don't determine the outcome). In order to do this, they deny the possibility (indeed in many cases, as with "effects research," the plain reality) that researchers working within the existing paradigm can modify their methods to accomodate things we've learned about the phenomenon or new tools we have for studying the phenomenon. Effects researchers have acknowledged the weak construct validity of earlier studies and have adapted accordingly. They've tested various outcome variables at various points in time, developing data on trends rather than static outcomes. They've changed their ways. Do they need to change their name? To what end?

Along with "effects," the words "rational" and "cognitive" were hotly contested words at ICA this year. The debate over whether people are "rational decision makers" fits this pattern. Just because people decide, at a certain moment, to weigh the importance of one thing (be it their marital bliss, their libidos, their faith in God or community or justice) and just because they had certain restrictions on the information available to them doesn't mean that their brains worked in a fundamentally different way than they would if they had more information or valued different things at that given moment. To say that people are "rational" or "irrational" decision makers (or "cognitive" or "emotional" decision makers), to me, implies that people's brains work in fundamentally different ways, which is not the case. The circumstances under which decisions are made change, but the mind still works the same way: take in information, consider how it changes our belief that an action will help bring about a state we desire at that moment, and act accordingly. This applies to every human action I can think of, no matter how supposedly "irrational" it is. Yes, I'll acknowledge that different parts of the brain are activated when making certain kinds of decisions (what we might refer to as "emotional" decisions), but I think that the brain is still taking in information and acting based on a desire. The word "irrational" implies that its either random or totally at the whim of some other guiding force. In reality, the thinking is just based on different temporary priorities and limited amounts of information. There is also confusion over whether "rationality" assumes that we are deliberate in our actions. Again, I don't think that it means that. We can be rational even if we make rational decisions on an unconscious level.

Ann Gray's preference for the words "research material" in lieu of "data" provides another example. She claims that " 'data' has strong associations with 'evidence', 'information' and 'proof' as well as being associated with the products of more conventional sociological research methods." Its hard to deny this, and yet won't using the term "research material" confuse a lot of people? Those words already are loaded with their own meanings for every reader. How do you weigh the consequences of your word choice: causing confusion vs. freeing us from the restrictive nature of old paradigms?

In the giddiness of having seen the connections between language choice and power, we've gotten bogged down in debates over words, overestimating the power of an academic to alter language and misunderstanding the ways in which languages actually evolve over time (I have the feeling that language interventions are destined to fail, though I'd welcome any evidence that suggests otherwise). These debates serve to turn off anyone outside of a small number of in-group academics (as Tamborini noted, they even turn off and confuse undergrads and grad students) and, again, allow other people in other fields to advance knowledge of the world while we quibble over what words to use.

There have been some failures of those actively seeking to change language for political/ideological reasons, as well as some successes. Why do some words fail to catch on? I would argue that even if a word is loaded with meaning that hinders the population who must use it, the change in language will only take if the substitute is clear and concise enough.

Who uses the word matters (Wanda Sykes PSA for not using the word "gay"). If a more and more diverse set of people use a word or stop using a word, the word will have more/less of a stigma, or will gradually stop being perceived as a grammar rule that P.C. academics are trying to force us to adopt.

In the end, the internet has taught us that language spreads like a virus (though its hard to say how long some of the neologisms will be with us). Language is important and it affects how we behave and think, but changing it is quite difficult. It seems that you cannot change it simply by presenting evidence that a word is somehow discriminatory. If you really want people to use your new word, or to stop saying "faggot" or "nigga," I think you can't just lecture people or point out that powerful people dictate language. There has to be a more nuanced understanding of the spread of words throughout a population. I don't study linguistics, so for all I know, there is such an understanding. I'd be interested to learn what it is.

Are Online Communities Sustainable? (or online relationships, for that matter)

2009-06-10T20:59:00.000-07:00

Reading an interesting post by Trent Reznor regarding his departure from social media (in particular Twitter, but also his extensive participation in online fora w/ fans). He charts his progress from idealist (hoping that he could make the relationship between artist and fan more intimate and unmediated, no PR people, etc) to cynic. His major problems with social media are trolls and anonymity. Essentially, its the classic problem of anonymity leading to more purposefully disruptive hate speech. Reznor offer a little dimestore psychology based on his discovery of who was behind the trolling. It is more or less consistent with the findings of Mattathias Schwartz in his NYTimes article on trolling: people who troll are looking for a way to get back at the world for hurting them, marginalizing them, or rendering them powerless, and anonymous internet fora provide them with the easiest way to do this.

Reznor's relationship with fans is unlike most social media users' experiences. There's a significant real-world power imbalance between star and fan, one that attracts trolling. Trolling doesn't happen everywhere or in random places; usually, its only highly-trafficked places or in communities that someone has something against. Reznor notes how moderators can use filters to reduce the effects of trolls (and places like Digg and Youtube do good jobs of getting rid of spam and trolls by using collective downvoting to obscure them and render them ineffective) but its still trouble to do this and if the benefits don't outweigh the trouble, then you stop doing it.

Social media as a whole seems sustainable to me. People really want the ability to connect with others who share some of the same values, preference, or beliefs, some who may not be available in the real-world social networks they inhabit. But individual online social networks or applications like Twitter and various message boards seem precarious. Some of their appeal might be in their novelty. Another problem might be the "tipping point" effect when several key members decide to leave or have some real-world commitment that draws them away. As with a real-life party, if a couple of key people leave, that tends to clear everyone else out, even if those people wouldn't have planned on leaving that soon in the first place. Its just group-think and there are no negative repercussions for bailing on an online social scene.

Its possible that online social scenes develop at a point when its members have some down-time, in transition periods in their real world lives. Its not that they're "losers" and can't make it in the real world social scenes (though that might still be the case for many). Its more that they have an appetite for sociability that is underserved at the time they join the social scene. So really, members have two things in common: whatever the raison d'etre of the scene is and the fact that they're all in some sort of transition period (which could include a period of identity questioning, hence popularity w/ teens). Anyway, these scenes don't last b/c the law of averages says that each person's real life will eventually interfere with their participation and the group will splinter.

But perhaps that depends on how much the group is really about the people in the group or whatever the group happens to be "about" (e.g. Nine Inch Nails, funny online videos, hunting, etc). I guess the latter are more informational exchanges or opportunities to share amusement over a subject while the former are something resembling (and perhaps standing in for) real world social scenes. Real world social scenes break up, too. People move away, get jobs, have kids, get divorced, etc. But I still suspect that b/c they are joined during times of real world social transition and there's no negative repercussions to leaving, online social scenes are more apt to disintegrate (or at least cycle through members) than real world social scenes. Really, they haven't been around long enough to say one way or the other.

Unoriginality at the multiplex: Franchises are the New "Genres"

2009-06-08T20:52:00.000-07:00

Here are some broad trends. I've categorized the top 10 grossing films of several years.

1980: 6 of 10 original, 2 sequels, 2 based on books
1985: 6 original, 2 sequels, 2 based on books
1990: 7 originals, 1 sequel, 2 based on comic books
1995: 5 originals, 4 sequels, 1 based on comic book/cartoon
2000: 7 originals, 1 sequel, 2 based on comic book/cartoon

No interesting trends there. People liked to talk about how Hollywood was infected with "sequelitis," but the numbers don't indicate any significant movement in that direction during those 2 decades. Then something happens in the last decade:

2001: 3 originals, 3 sequels, 2 based on books, 2 remakes
2002: 3 originals, 5 sequels, 1 based on comic book, 1 based on popular musical
2003: 3 originals, 6 sequels, 1 remake
2004: 3 originals, 5 sequels, 2 based on books
2005: 2 originals, 2 sequels, 1 based on book, 4 remakes/reboots
2006: 3 originals, 3 sequels, 1 based on book, 3 remake/reboot
2007: 0 originals!, 6 sequels, 3 based on comic book/cartoon, 1 remake
2008: 3 original, 4 sequels, 2 based on comic book/cartoon, 1 based on book

In many cases, the sequels were sequels of movies that were based on existing properties.

Of course, this is a reflection of what people want to see and what they are presented with. Whether its one or the other is, for the point I'm making, beside the point. I'm claiming that this is not a temporary trend. This is cinema (creators and consumers) obeying a fundamental law of economy. There are other media in which producers can distribute motion pictures to consumers (namely cable TV and the internet). They can also share stories via books, as always. Now, if you were a bank and you were going to fund a major motion picture, which cost 10s of millions of create, distribute, and promote, you would want to be as sure as you could be that the movie would be a hit. An established star is one way to bolster your odds, as is a director or writer with a proven track record of hits. But what about the story or the premise. Ideally, you'd want to be able to test it out for a smaller sum of money. And that's what we're able to do now. When you make a film out of an existing property, be it a cartoon, a novel, or an older film, you attract an audience who believes the film will be similar to the existing property and you have evidence that the story or the premise will resonate w/ people.

Its a little odd that it didn't happen sooner. Why weren't all movies tried as novels first? Maybe b/c some stories would only work on the big screen as spectacle. But now, with the internet and lots more TV channels, you would have to be a bit daft to bankroll an unproven story as a film. Why not make it into a miniseries on TNT or a novel first, see how it does, and retain the motion picture rights?

I would suppose that many cinephiles lament the lack of originality in mainstream cinema (if they care anymore about anythign "mainstream" that is). But are these remakes, reboots and sequels really any less original? Do we judge originality by a title? Couldn't a non-sequel thriller be less original (that is, more similar to its predecessors) than a sequel? I think that this is possible and has been the case in some instances. Really, franchises are the new genres: boundaries within which various artists work.

What to do with CGI films? Are they a genre? There are two companies that dominate - Pixar and Dreamworks. They employ many of the same creative people, use a lot of the same dramatic tropes. More importantly, I feel like audiences treat them more like a series of films and less like a genre. In terms of number and "quality," they are more like movies in a series than films in a genre: there are few and they are of uniform quality.

This is just the top slice of cinema, too. There are plenty of "original" stories lower down the charts, though again, I would question the idea of original. There has evolved a horribly formulaic strain of indie film that, I would argue, are, as a group, no more original by any definition of that term than the bulk of franchise films.

We needn't lament the fact that more hit films aren't fantastically original, the way they were, say, the in 70's. There are still great, original stories being told using moving pictures, but they aren't being told on the big screen. This is what should happen, economically speaking. Cinema no longer holds the same place it did 30 or 40 years ago when it was, essentially, the only place to go for amazing, engaging stories. Once the internet ramps up as a distribution platform for video, cinema will be even less like the cinema of yore. Get over it.

What kind of music do you like (right now)?

2009-06-05T09:01:00.000-07:00

In keeping with my habit of making broad generalizations based on my personal experience w/ media...

As I was assembling a playlist for an upcoming roadtrip, I was thinking about the kinds of music I would want to listen to but also, acknowledging the social nature of most media consumption, what kind of music the people I'll be traveling with would want to listen to. Naturally, I thought in terms of genre. I'm pretty sure these guys don't like metal much anymore (if they ever did), which is a shame, b/c I do. Then I thought about my answer to that classic get-to-know-you question "what kind of music do you like," and, of course, my answer would be that typical avoiding answer: "lots of kinds, pretty much everything."

If you looked at my music collection, you would find many different genres from different eras and different places around the world well represented. But that doesn't mean I'd want to listen to any of it at any given moment. Our media preferences are governed by long-lasting preferences (I've liked metal since about 9th grade) as well as short-term moods (I'm not in the mood for metal right now). Here's my theory: as music collections expand due to the falling monetary value of songs vis a vis Napster, Torrent, and all that shit, long-lasting preferences broaden and explain less and less of why anyone wants to listen to any kind of music at a given time. As choices expand, mood and immediate context play a greater role in determining what you will choose.

But its tougher to know what kind of music you're in the mood for than knowing that you like rap or hate country. I've tried relabeling my music according to mood (so, there are rap songs and metal songs that are both labeled "energetic" and classical and rock songs that are labeled "melancholy") and occassionally that helps me find music that suits my mood and feels right, but most times, I find myself cycling through my shuffle until something clicks.

The way we engage with music changes when options becomes plentiful. Choice increases due to falling production/distribution cost. It happened w/ music, but the trends you see will happen with all other media. When you have all of those options, you can't rely on your identity as much to determine what media will satisfy you. You can't just say to yourself "I like this kind of music, or that kind of TV show, or that kind of news, so that's what I'll choose." Something happens to our decision making process when we have abundant, diverse options. I'm not quite sure what it is (experiments to follow, I hope), but my hunch is that we want to cede control to something else. Shuffle is one thing. Search engines are another. We're wary of being controlled, but we experience so much uncertainty and regret after choosing something when there are too many other options that we want our choice to be restricted.

Sometimes, we do know what we're in the mood for, but those moods and those preferences become more diverse given more and more choices.

The Problem with False Consciousness (and false desire and false choice)

2009-06-03T15:37:00.000-07:00

There is a strain, one might say a dominant strain, of cultural theory (derived from Marxist theory) that claims that individuals immersed in a culture, exposed to certain information via media while other information is kept from them, are unable to know the truth about how the world works and thus make decisions that are not in their collective or individual best interests but rather in the best interests of those in control of the information flow. On the face of it, the theory of false consciousness seems possible, even likely. But here's the rub: the theory itself is just another way of looking at the world supplied and supported by individuals with interests of their own, some of which run counter to those of people reading about the theory. It is possible that those who are exposing others as having pulled the wool over our collective eyes are, in fact, pulling a different kind of wool over our eyes. The new illusion of "seeing the world as it really is" is all the more convincing given that the revelatory nature of the theory. How do we know it is not another illusion, one more pernicious than the last? We don't, and most cultural theory provides little evidence to suggest one way or the other whether it is just another bias looked at human nature. Are we naturally competitive or naturally cooperative? Are corporations and advertisers in charge of telling us what to desire, or are charismatic leaders/writer/artists the ones pulling the strings?

I like to use two movies from 1999 as convenient illustrations of false consciousness and (if you'll pardon the unwieldy double negative) false false consciousness. The Matrix is a classic good v. evil story of false consciousness. A handful of good guys need to clue everyone else into the fact that they are not acting in their own best interests, but are rather part of an elaborate illusion that serves the interests of a controlling "other." Fight Club issues a similar indictment of mainstream culture, albeit in a less metaphorical more literal manner. However, the bunch of rag-tag rebels that fight The Man inevitably coalesce around a charismatic leader who, as it turns out, is insane. Group-think develops, critical thinking goes out the window, and the group of rebels is even more lost than when it began. I am heartened by the fact that popular cinema can still address (and prompt audience members to debate and think through) important socio-politico-philosophical issues of the day. Just in terms of acting as teaching tools, these movies can liven up a dreary classroom discussion about free will and hegemony.

As valuable as fiction is in helping us understand our socio-political reality, it can only take us so far. In order to really understand things, we need evidence. Most of the crit/cult theory I've read cites cherry-picked instances of people deprived of infinite choice and freedom and/or maintaining a subsistence level of wealth while those in power stay in power via hegemonic, patriarchal culture. The tacit assumptions are that: information desemination - in the form of popular culture, education, and other cultural institutions such as church, the government, or news agencies - is part of the root cause of power imbalances and that the world could be otherwise (i.e. equality is possible given human nature).

In order to further interrogate the line of reasoning behind false consciousness, let's take an ordinary claim. Let's say you think someone who just spent $5,000 on a new paint job for his car but lacks the money to pay for his child's health care, college education, or nutritious diet has somehow been conditioned by culture to value some material goods (e.g. car paint jobs) over others (school, food, health). How can we, as theorists, step in and say that this person is no longer capable of making decisions for themselves? I suppose the crit/cult theorists also assumes that in the long term, the indiviual and the group that he or she is a part of will suffer. His child will be more likley to fall ill or earn less money w/o health care, a healthy diet, or better schooling. As a group, they will have less opportunities. They will live shorter, harder lives - something (and this is crucial) we can all agree is undesirable. If they only saw the connection between their consumption of culture and the long-term undesirable consequences, then they would alter their behavior, rise up against their oppressors, and alter culture.

In order for this to happen, you need to establish that some conditions are objectively undesirable. Is living a shorter life objectively undesirable? Not necessarily. Is being able to retire at an early age if one so chooses objectively desirable? Sure. Even if we reject the notion that a person's worth should be judged solely on their monetary worth, we can accept the fact that the systematic impoverishment of a people is undesirable. So then how do we draw a connection between certain behavior that may give pleasure in the short term (getting that $5,000 paint job) and long term displeasure (impoverishment) in a way that a) everyone can understand and b) does not elevate the theorist to the position of truth-teller?

You need to look for instances when people who hold one opinion about how the world (or some small part of it) works revise this opinion based on information presented to them. We have the dual opposing influences of authority (e.g. the news media, the scientific community, both of which were grossly mistaken about human nature in 1930's Germany) and upstart revolutionaries (which are at least equally likely to become corrupt by power and get things wrong - see The Great Leap Forward, an extension of what was, at the time, revolutionary thought). Charisma and authority go a long way to swaying people about big issues like human behavior and economy, but what about small, manageable issues like, say, the length of two lines?
Maybe this is a shitty example because we're all very familiar with the illusion. My point here is that we initially see that the lower line is longer than the top line. If, however, an authority were to come along and, before our very eyes, remove the diagonal lines at the end of each line, we would see, with our own eyes, that the lines are of equal length. Now, is this proof that the lines are of equal length? Absolutely not. You could get out your micrometer and say, "actually, the top line is shorter than the bottom one." But actual, physical reality isn't what concerns me (actually, I think it is indeterminate, but that's another blog entry). What I'm interested in are the patterns of people's behavior, specifically what precipitates a revision of worldview. In most cases, people will believe that the top line is shorter than the bottom one until you remove the diagonal lines, at which point they will think that they are of equal length.

This example reveals a different kind of false consciousness, a short-term false consciousness. It all happened in front of our eyes. We can acknowledge that we were mistaken. We thought our information about the situation was complete and accurate, but in retrospect, thanks to the revelation from the authority figure, we know that it was not.

Those of us studying culture, information, media and how it relates to freedom, happiness, well-being, and choice need to make the claims about false consciousness more like this. We need to make the connections between short-term pleasure and long-term displeasure more obvious, more indubitable. Impossible, you say? Bullocks! We've got exponentially more data about people's shifting desires than we have had in the past (and by "we" I mean the public, though if we're not careful, it might all end up in the hands of a fortunate few. That really would be hegemony).

Its a hard thing to acknowledge that we're not very good at predicting what will bring us long term pleasure, as individuals and as groups. When we're wrong, we look for scapegoats (The Man, the government, the media, etc), and sometimes we're right, but other times, we made bad decisions based on imperfect information about the connections between those decisions and long-term loss. How do you convince a person that his desire to get a $5,000 paint job was the result of a culture intent on keeping him down? You lay bare the mechanisms of culture, not in some vague way, but in a concrete, indubitable way that shows how all people (not just a gullible few) are capable of being misled when presented with certain kinds of information.

To that end, I'm proposing a new research project (featuring testable hypotheses): Is the abundance and restriction of media choice associated with a greater discrepancy between gratification sought and gratification perceived? You can argue with someone else's definition of gratification (for you, it might be having a big house; for someone else, it might be having a car with a sweet paint job), but you'd be hard pressed to find a person who would argue w/ their own definition of gratification.

Lost and Time Travel, Resolved

2009-05-13T22:55:00.000-07:00

I confess, I still love Lost, not b/c I find it particularly pleasurable to watch (the soapy dialogue is hackneyed, there are too many scenes where characters redundantly talk about how important events are but nothing really happens, the pacing is lousy, and the music is an emotional crutch), but b/c it tries to do a lot of different things. It takes chances in terms of its choice of stories, the way it tells the stories, and melding of genres, and the weaving of subplots. When you take chances like these, you mostly get shit, but it provides the viewer with the feeling that they might experience something genuinely new. I feel as though the show could produce an unfamiliar emotion or thought. Its like watching sports: I feel like anything could happen.

Of course, there have been experimental narratives before, but experimental films are limited in the ways they can muck around w/ viewers' brains b/c they can't be very long. Experimental literature is abundant, but I don't find it as immersing as TV. And yes, there has been plenty of experimental TV shows before (Twin Peaks, Mary Hartman Mary Hartman, late-night public access weirdness, Ernie Kovacs, etc, etc), but I like Lost b/c its experimenting on a grand stage in front of millions of viewers. That's what I liked about Twin Peaks, especially the series finale. If that was a movie, a smaller subset of people would've gone to see it and they would've had different expectations. There's something about knowing that other people are having their heads fucked by a really weird TV show at the same time that its happening to you that makes it a richer experience.

At first, I didn't like the time travel idea, but its grown on me. Movies about time travel don't have the time to get into the implications and possibilities of it. Here, there's room to explore. I think they've raised the cheif problems with time travel (can one intervene in past events w/o creating paradoxes) and I have faith that they will offer something more than a simplistic deus ex machina in future episodes to resolve the problems. Or maybe they won't. But, see, this is the cool part of about a serial TV narrative that is written as it goes, why its different from novels or films. I believe that somewhere, the writers are wrestling with these problems, trying to figure them out. At the same time, I'm trying to figure them out. I've been motivated to do so by the interesting story and the characters (considering time travel in the abstract wouldn't be as fun for me). I cannot skip to the end. I can't google the answer, b/c the answer hasn't been written yet. But I can take the information that I have and evaluate the problems again and again, talking about them with others, writing about them.

It is interesting to see two different kinds of reception of this show: the critical reception by the NYTimes (which, in my opinion, is absolutely the wrong approach to the material), and the message board reception. I think the show is more of a game to be played with the audience, not a text on which we might pass judgment. If you don't want to play, don't watch or discuss. But if you don't like it, I feel as though its partly your fault for not playing along more. If you don't have fun playing a game, its not necessarily b/c the game sucks.

So, in the spirit of playing the game, here's my take on things. Is it possible that people could travel back in time, intervene in the past and continue to experience a subjectively continuous, linear reality? Sort of. When the characters in Lost appear to travel back in time, they don't really, literally go back in time. They travel to a facsimile of the past. They can do whatever they want in that past and it will affect the future of that world. They can use whatever knowledge they have about what the future of that world would have been to bring about desirable outcomes in their future but the world they are altering is not prior to the world in which they were before they traveled in time. Its more like a different place that happens to have people and objects that closely resemble the past. They have special knowledge in the new world, but they can't do things that will instantaneously change their physical or existential status. In this scenario, you could "go back in time" and kill Hitler before the Holocaust, thereby preventing the holocaust in that world that you traveled to. The holocaust would've still happened in the other time line that you were a part of before you traveled in time, but would that matter? What does it mean to say that something has happened? Why is it of any consequence? Regardless of whether or not we can travel in time, we have the same moral responsibilities and the same desires for happiness. If I had the knowledge and the ability to prevent a holocaust from happening, I must do that, whether or not it undoes a holocaust that already happened. It makes me think of Daniel Dennett's essay "I Could Not Have Done Otherwise—So What?" The gist, if I remember correctly, is that whether or not there is a god, whether or not we have free will, whether or not you're operating in a contiguous or parallel reality, does not matter as much as you think it might. You still want to be compassionate, you still want to love and be loved, and you still want to avoid displeasure, and you do so based on what you can observe with your senses. Other possible worlds (one in which Hitler wins WWII, one in which he gets accepted to art school and lives happily ever after) are infinite in number but cannot affect your physical/psychological experience of reality, therefore they are of no consequence to you. Even if, in those other worlds, there are real people who are really suffering, if you can't potentially interact with them or even observe them, then they're not worth thinking about. Regarding Schrodinger's cat, when the cat is in the box, it doesn't matter if it is alive, dead, or "both." If this all seems very abstract and philosophical, consider the moral dilemma of the amnesiac murderer.

This puts the time traveler in a bit of a bind. They're morally obligated to visiting every possible world and preventing bad things from happening (a la Quantum Leap). I think the characters from Lost are off the hook b/c the mechanisms used to travel through time are unpredictable, so even if they wanted to visit parallel worlds that are the functional equivalents of their pasts and prevent bad shit from happening, they would have a very tough time doing so.

What if a character went back in time and killed their parents. Would that negate his or her existence? No. It would negate the existence of person who resembles him or her, but he or she is still a person with a personal past. So, my theory is that the characters in Lost can't change their material or psychological experience of reality by changing the past. Their bodies and minds can only move linearly, forward through a single time line, even though they may jump between worlds that resemble past and future points on that single timeline. Problems solved!

Uncertain entertainment

2009-05-04T17:21:00.000-07:00

OK. I think I've got a dissertation topic: why we choose media.

I keep thinking that it has something to do with pleasure, but that we're not just hedonically motivated. Or that "pleasure," the end goal of hedonism, mutates and evolves in each of our lives so that to say that we are hedonically motivated tells us very little about why we choose certain experiences over others.

Let's take a concrete example. Today, I listened to a story from Stephen King's short story collection Just After Sunset. Why this story? Because I'd read/listen to other stories by that author and I'd enjoyed them immensely. Not only had I enjoyed them while I was listening to/reading them. I also would periodically recall emotions or ideas from the texts at various times, and that gave me pleasure and helped me cope w/ some rough patches. If we're to map out the decision making process that goes into choosing media, I think we need to take into account pleasure that comes well after actually experiencing the text. Hard to measure, but let's save the question of measurement for another time.

Anyway, based on past experience w/ other King stories, the low cost and availability of the story (free from my local library), my mood (more or less neutral, I just wanted to be transported while doing yard work, and if I got some insight into the human condition, so much the better), and the time available (I have lots, thanks to summer vacation). It was the wrong decision. At least for that one short story, I experienced pretty extreme displeasure. I experienced something that I'm sure many others have experienced: hating a media text but needing, masochistically, to finish the text, needing closure. Why was the text to unpleasurable? Because it conjured up unpleasant connections with my personal history. How could Stephen King know about that? He couldn't. But could I have known? That's an interesting question.

What do we know about a media experience before we spend time and money on it? When we re-watch movies, we know plenty, and sometimes, we experience great pleasure. Most times, we only have a rough idea of what to expect, based on author, genre, preview, or recommendation. We don't want to waste our time, but we want to be surprised. This requires a relinquishment or control, a trust in an author or authors that is paid for with our future attention. In this way, choosing to experience a media text is unlike so many other consumer decisions. I wouldn't want my car to surprise me. I wanted to know exactly what I was in for when I bought it. The same is true for every other consumer decision i can think of. The same isn't true for my experience with people. I wouldn't want to know utterly predictable people. Though they may bow to my every command, they would seem lifeless. So it is with media. We desire some unpredictability, some chance that what we experience may be undesirable.

I guess there's always the chance that one may be introduced to a new kind of pleasure, one that a consumer/user didn't even know they desired until they experienced it. The unknown experiences are fodder for our future desires and dislikes.

After choosing to listen to the King short story and hating it, I listened to a Radiolab podcast, and within the first 5 minutes, I experienced exactly what I wanted to experience. I was transported. I left my body. I also felt better about life and myself, if for a brief time (there, again, is the time issue. Is it better to experience a temporary boost in self-esteem than it is to get something embedded in your brain that will keep cropping up and putting things in perspective at later points in life? In a word, no. That's what makes great works of narrative so great. They stay in your head and pop up when you have various experiences. Hard to assess, but definitely a part of the worth of a mediated experience). I made a bad decision w/ the King, and a good decision w/ the Radiolab. What happened?

Part of it was a lack of information. If the King story came w/ a disclaimer that said, "Elliot Panek, this story will remind you of very specific instances in your life where you have failed, resulting in negative affect," well then I wouldn't have listened. That's a tall order for the media producer, but maybe, just maybe, some sort of information aggregator could keep track of certain things that were bound to trigger negative (or positive) affect for the user, screen the text for those things, and then give the user an idea of what he/she is in for. This would just be an extension, an elaboration of genre and its conventions. Totally doable given the pace of progress in IT.

Neither the media producer not the user wants too much of a chance of displeasure. They wouldn't want you to go elsewhere for media and you don't want to waste your time with displeasure. And yet some risk seems necessary. We seem to need to cede control, to some degree, at some times.

How curious it is that we spend time and money on something that might give us displeasure. Is this an acknowledgement of the quicksilver nature of human desire, or is this a failure of the media market to accurately inform the consumer whether or not the product is suited for a particular context? Obviously, its a large question, one hopefully fitting for a dissertation. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go watch the Celts play the Magic in game 1 of a playoff series. Sports is kind of the apotheosis of the uncertainly entertaining media experience. The Celts could win a quadruple overtime game, yielding a transcendent pleasure for me, or it could be a close loss for the Celts, yielding another evening of ennui. The choice is most certainly not mine.

Why MTV doesn't suck as much as one might think, or why...

2009-04-30T14:25:00.000-07:00

is the new

Another terrific Bill Simmons podcast (this one featuring an interview w/ Chris Connelly in which they debated why MTV stopped playing music and went all reality all the time) made me reconsider MTV's move away from music. On (in?) the podcast, Connelly essentially argues that what musicians were for an older generation, reality stars like LC, Hiedi, and Spencer are for this generation. More specifically, he argues that because people who are now 35 and older formed their identities in their teen years by listening to popular musicians, they want to keep listening to popular music. Hence, popular music is no longer the "adult-free" zone it used to be. If it isn't adult-free, then it can't be used by teens to forge identities.

Rather than find a media space that parents can't get access to, teens find a media space that parents just don't (or can't) understand. It used to be rock and roll, then it was hiphop, and now its reality TV (which, interestingly, doesn't have the interracial threat of RocknRoll & hiphop, and so is perhaps seen by white parents as just as confusing but less threatening than pop music).

Maybe teens' obsession with popular music (during the rock and roll craze of the 50's, the rise of MTV in the 80's) was never really about the music in the first place. Maybe it was about the lyrics and the celebrity singing the lyrics. In those lyrics and in the celebrity, teens found someone to commiserate with and aspire to be, something to talk about with friends, a way of judging another person in shorthand ("oh, you're the type of person who likes Dave Matthews Band, or the type of person who likes Kid n Play"). What if you stripped away the music but kept the person to commiserate with/aspire to be? You'd have reality TV. It performs the same functions, and so MTV remains popular. And, according to Connelly's interesting theory, they had no choice if they wanted to keep the teen audience. Popular music was tainted by the interest of adults.

Now, I know teens still listen to music, and I know that most adults are as confused by/contemptuous of Asher Roth as 1950's adults were by/of Buddy Holly. But I think we're back to listening to music for older reasons - to enhance or bring about a certain mood, as a kind of drug to escape the world. The "social comparison" identity-forging uses (see above paragraph) were a contemporary phenomenon relegated to youth culture. I think youth culture now has LC and Heidi (and Kevin??? BTW, College Life seems really promising to me - like Laguna Beach/Hills/City w/o the unachievable glitz and glamour). They don't need Eminem or Kanye.

Important to note that there's a strong gender element at play. Most of the guy students I talk to are less about TV and more about movies and sports for forming identity (TV = domestic = female, even in the online TV era?).

NB: As far as MTV playing music videos, it certainly didn't help when the teen music business model collapsed. MTV played videos to promote the purchase of music, but it remains an open question as to whether teens will see music as something you purchase.

Thinking Through the Inevitability (or obsolescence) of Advertising...Again

2009-04-25T21:53:00.000-07:00

Thinking about whether ad creep is inevitable is a bit of an obsession with me. I try not to bug people I know by constantly ranting about it. Instead, I reserve such rants for this space (that's my basic argument here: being a tolerable company or a tolerable human being is all about knowing where to put certain messages). I like to think that I'm refining or extending my arguments, but maybe I'm just repeating myself. Here goes.

2 likely possibilities for which we might gather evidence:

1: ads have crept up a little in terms of where they are and how much of our conscious and unconscious attention they take up, but not all that much. There's always been push-back from consumers, and so they've reached a permanent stalemate w/ advertisers and sellers. Ads don't work perfectly, but they work well enough to be worth the trouble for the sellers.

2: prevalent promotion of any kind, much like record labels, is a holdover from a pre-networked information economy. During the broadcast era, the infrastructures and content needed for the pre-eminent modes of mass communication - TV and newspapers - were expensive to set up and maintain, so expensive that subscription fees wouldn't have covered the cost. During the networked communication era, the infrastructure had a high up-front cost but the cost of maintenance, while hardly nil, is far less expensive than that of traditional broadcast media. In addition, the cost of providing content of acceptable quality (user generated content, once it gets going) is virtually nil. The supplementary revenue generated for the service providers by advertising is not as essential as it was during the broadcast era. In addition, there are less expensive ways for the producers of goods and services to reach target markets (say, those in the market for a re-financed mortgage) than splashing ads everywhere. As a seller, you could spend money trying to cultivate demand where there was none (which advertisements do all the time, but is an expensive, unreliable, and difficult task given the ever-increasing, ever-evolving savviness of consumers) or you could spend less money targeting those who are "in the market" for something you sell to begin with. Since low overhead and greater sales trump all in a capitalist marketplace, promotion outside of a designated "marketplace" becomes obsolete. The practice will persist for awhile, especially in places where networked communication is less ubiquitous, but only due to institutional inertia which decays over time.

Argument for 1: promotion of goods is inevitable. I would grant this. If we want to use history as proof, we would see that promotion of one kind of another exists in every known culture in every place in every era (not that history should be used as an argument for what humans are capable of, but for the moment, we'll accepts this argument's utility despite its shortcomings). You can regulate it and restrict it, but if you do this too much, it would handicap your nation's companies in a global marketplace in which it must compete with less-regulated markets.

Argument for 2: In most cultures, promotion was/is relegated to a certain space - the marketplace. If you went to the marketplace, you were prepared for people selling their wares. If you were in a domestic setting, if you were listening to a story, if you were at work, you heard far less explicit or implicit promotion of goods or services.

What happens when ads move outside of the marketplace? You get greater sales, for the time being, but you also eat into the collective brain power of everyone in your culture. More time spent paying attention to ads, attempting to resist ads, and engineering more sophisticated ads is less time working, socializing, fucking, etc.

I'm particularly interested in studying the side effects of promotion that are not noticed by the conscious mind, b/c this seems to be the way advertising is going. Most product placement works this way. Maybe some online banner ads work this way on you. Its pretty well established that this kind of advertising works to some degree, in that it can convince us to buy things we wouldn't have bought had we not been exposed to the ads, though consumers cannot notice when it works. This is good in the sense that, unlike explicit advertising, this doesn't interfere with conscious processes (e.g. our abilities to concentrate on a complex narrative, to do work, to socialize w/ others). But it may interfere with unconscious processes. I would bet that our brains are working through things without our being conscious of it. The result of this "working through" is a stable sense of self, an ability to generate new ideas, and an ability to find some sort of equilibrium in social relations. It is possible that if you introduced a signal that interfered with that unconscious processing, it might prevent us from doing those things as effectively.

You can't determine whether or not this is the case by simply asking people. If I could conduct an ideal experiment, I would take some similar people, immerse some of them in ad saturated culture, immerse the others in the same culture where the ads were relegated to certain websites and physical areas (stores, neighborhoods, malls), and see if their abilities to do other things changed over time.

In closing, I might ask why telephones or electricity were never served up w/ ads. Why were we charged a subscription fee for those without having to pay for either service through our attention to advertising? Why weren't our telephone calls interrupted every five minutes w/ very brief ads for something? Was it just some artifact of the early monopoly on both which trained us to be intolerant of interruptions, or is there something about the proximity of extremely personal information (on the phone) and unrequested content (ads) that we can't tolerate (in which case we would be less tolerant of ads alongside emails than embedded in hulu videos). Surely, we would've complained about ads in our phonecalls but then, given the lack of other viable options, we would've tolerated them, and this would've generated more $ for advertisers, sellers, and the phone/electric companies. If ads work, as a way of selling goods and as a business model for media providers, then why aren't they literally everywhere?

You Tube Phenoms: Susan Boyle

2009-04-18T11:19:00.000-07:00

Ordinary-person-turned-celeb Susan Boyle presents us with yet another interesting case study in web-enhanced fame. She occupies a space at the intersection of a lot of different kinds of appeals. Its key to remember that her fame is only enhanced by the web. The real media venue that is equally (or more, or less?) responsible for her fame is Britain's Got Talent, the British version of American Idol (or is AI the American version of BGT?). Boyle's rise to fame is in keeping w/ talent shows' examination of what how cultures define talent. I used to be very dismissive of these shows, but really, when you consider what they say about how we judge people and how popular they are, they're quite interesting.

Do we defer to experts? Yes, partially, but we also love to hate them. Is talent acquired through hard work or are you born with it? Not sure, really, but we like to think that there's at least some persistence against the odds invovled in acheiving success. Do we base our judgment of people on their similarities to us? Sometimes. Do we base it on looks? Usually, but not this time, and apparently there's nothing we love more than praising someone who doesn't fit the mold of the attractive pop star. In doing so, we are praising ourselves for not being superficial (nevermind the fact that we're still judging someone based on an arbitrarily chosen valued ability. God forbid if the woman had been ugly and hadn't been able to sing).

I would argue that Boyle is also in sync with another trend, this one related to popularity on the web: freak appeal. I've heard a few comparisons of Boyle to William Hung, although all the people making those comparisons note the important difference: Hung was talentless, Boyle is incredibly talented. They're both outcasts in some sense. I think Boyle is what some of us wish the William Hungs of the world could be - someone who seems like an ugly duckling at first, but then turns out to be a swan. I also think that we feel that this makes it okay to laugh at freaks like Hung b/c we can hold out hope that Hung will eventually turn into a swan or that we'll eventually uncover the hidden talents that Hung always had (maybe he's brilliant at math, to use a stereotype about asians). There's a kind of ugly-person tokenism going on with Boyle.

When we say that "anyone can make it in America/Britain/anywhere-else," we're identifying the characteristics to which our cultures assign value. Despite being ugly or poor or black or old or blind or a recovering drug addict or gay or transgender or whatever, this person has succeeded. Whether its seeing Susan Boyle become famous in a week or seeing a black man get elected president, seeing a person succeed against the odds simultaneously convinces us that there's less true inequity in the world (if there was more, then this person wouldn't have made it), convinces us that we're not part of reinforcing that inequity, and convinces us that despite our shortcomings, we can make it, too. This can lead us to believe that inequities are a thing of the past, and this may instill false hope among many less-talented people (there's a novelty effect built into the success of the first disadvantaged person to achieve, one that wears off quickly and doesn't apply to the next few people out of the pipline). As long as cultures have hierarchies that are based on identifiable characteristics, these stories will remain resonant with audiences.

That's not to say that the success-against-the-odds stories don't have positive effects on audiences; only that there may be some negative ones as well. How could we determine whether the good outweighed the bad? Sound like another research project!

Data Mining as Psychotherapy: How the petabyte age could help us to know our selves and why that's nothing to be scared of

2009-04-14T13:26:00.000-07:00

Let's start with a problem. Make it a personal problem. I mean "personal" in two senses: "personal" as in something that you wouldn't want to talk about with anyone besides a very close friend or a therapist, and "personal" as in specific to you and only you. Say you're depressed, or that you're engaging in what you know to be a self-destructive pattern of behavior. How can you solve this problem, or avoid repeating it in the future?

Now, let's pretend you had a magical machine that could track every bit of thought and experience you had from your birth to this moment. The data produced by the machine tells you everything that led up to that negative outcome moment. Well, not everything. Only the things that you were a part of. If a butterfly flapped its wings in China the day after you were born, the machine would not record that. It is possible that things that you were not directly a part of could have a profound effect on you, leading you to become depressed or engage in shitty behavior (see sensitive dependence on initial conditions). Nevertheless, if you have to limit your recording of information somehow due to technical limits, of which there will always be some, and your goal was to find out the cause of a problem that relates to you specifically, then it would be good to start with all experience and thought related directly to you.

Now that you've got all that information, you could look for patterns in that data, or maybe the machine could look for them for you. You notice a recurring pattern of actions or thoughts that you keep choosing that lead up to that negative outcome you want to avoid. We have an intuitive grasp of the kinds of behavior or thought that lead up to such outcomes (e.g. I'm depressed because I looked at a picture of a dead relative, which reminded me of how much i missed them and of my own mortality. Maybe I shouldn't look that picture so often). But sometimes, we can't see those patterns, either b/c we don't want to acknowledge that somethings that produce pleasure in the short-term might bring us displeasure in the long term, or b/c we just can't remember everything that we thought, felt, or did over the course of our entire lives.

The first problem is an objectivity/subjectivity problem, solved by asking a trusted friend or a therapist for advice. The second problem is a surveillance problem - no other person is there for our every waking moment, and even if they are, they can't see inside our heads (the closest you could come to that would be a parent or a lover). This creates a trade-off: you're the only person with access to your entire history and your thoughts and feelings, but you're not especially objective about them. The third problem is a cognitive load problem: no one person can hold that much information about one person's life in his/her head.

Enter the machine. The machine is capable of holding a much larger amount of information. The machine also makes the data available to you or to trained professionals (though, once you were able to see the patterns that linked the short-term pleasurable actions with long-term displeasurable consequences, you wouldn't need anyone else to tell you to cut it out). The machine could be with you every waking minute. Heck, it could even record what's going on in your head while you're asleep.

I'm not saying that the machine would allow you to see with complete certainty what led to that negative outcome, but it would be on a par with what we think to be causes and effects in the hard sciences. In other words, they would be able to reduce the probability of there being some other explanation for your misery to virtually nil. So, you take the data, you make note of the patterns of thought and behavior that led up to the negative outcomes, and you choose not to think or do the things that led up to those outcomes. Even better, you look at the patterns that lead up to your happiest moments, and you repeat those.

The machine does not exist. yet. But I think we've got a prototype: google. Google tracks our searches, which might tell us a little more about our patterns of behavior than we might know ourselves. A prototype also exists in the form of spyware that tracks our every click on the internet. As more and more of our desires and thoughts and feelings and actions are conveying on computers, the closer we come to having something like "the machine." (if you included mobile tech and its ability to track us throughout the day, you'd have an even better approximation of the machine).

Is the machine to be feared? I'd guess that most people would say yes, but I wouldn't agree. To me, that's like saying that you're afraid of knowing yourself, or afraid of knowledge in general. What we're afraid of is the misuse or misinterpretation of information. But should that keep us from garnering what we know to be more accurate information about our selves? There is such a thing as responsible data interpretation. In order to engage in responsible interpretation, it is essential to start with this assumption: the information we're dealing with is imperfect and incomplete, and yet it may offer us insight into our thoughts and actions that is superior to (or supplements) what we're currently working with. We need to engage in systematic testing of the circumstances in which this information does provide us with insight, and we need to identify misuse and misinterpretation and discourage it.

The other choice is one that I think too many people choose, mostly out of fear and laziness (its easier to dismiss the entire enterprise of data mining than learn how to do it responsibly and teach people how to interpret data properly and how to tell if someone else is interpreting data properly). I think that, on some fundamental level, we fear data, not the corporations or the governments or the scientists who are gathering it and using it, but the data itself. Given the rate at which behavioral data is piling up, this stance is becoming increasingly irresponsible each day. We can either let someone else aggregate all this data and learn why we do things and how to manipulate us, or we can take control of our own destinies and learn how our minds work so as to beat the others to the punch, to alter our behaviors so as to become less predictable. There's no going back to the pre-data age.

And really, the machine is just an extension of established sciences that spring from our desire to know ourselves more fully. Psychology, sociology, and really all of the social sciences are imperfect versions of the machine. They look for patterns leading up to outcomes we judge to be good or bad, but they have huge blind spots. But the blind spots are shrinking. Sociology and psychology have always played the red-headed stepchild to "hard sciences" like physics and chemistry. A great deal of this ill-will comes from the fact that social science can not deliver the levels of certainty that are the norm in hard sciences (hence the tolerance of smaller effect sizes in social science). That, too, may change in the petabyte age.

Wordling Through Public Opinion

2009-03-28T14:45:00.000-07:00

I've been examining audience interpretations of movies, TV shows, and web video for a few years now. Recently, a friend turned me on to this Wordle application which makes word clouds of any block of text you give it. Word clouds got a lot of press recently when CNN used it to analyze one of Obama's speeches (sadly, people didn't "get" what word clouds can tell them). Anyway, like any good data visualization tool, it allows you to see, at a glance, some of the trends in your data. There are, of course, limitations (as will become apparent in the examples i give below), but it could be an exciting new way to look at public opinion quickly. Take blog posts or comments from thousands of different people, feed it into Wordle, and you'll get a general idea of what that portion of the public is thinking about (or what they think about a certain issue).

Here are the results of my wordle of people's evaluation of several movies on IMDB. I drew the comments from the headings of the first 300 posts for each movie. Check 'em out.
Shawshank Redemption (the highest rated film on IMDB). No big surprises. People think its the best. Its interesting to note that they think its the best ever. If you look closer, you can see adjectives like "brilliant" and "moving." These may not seem surprising, but when you start comparing the different word clouds to each other, even the films that everyone loved, you start to see that fans put emphases on certain elements of certain films.
Amelie (44 on the list of top 250 IMDB). Interesting to see the word "overrated" in there. People define this movie by the fact that its French, and they find it charming.
Love Guru (I had to pick a bad one for contrast). This represents the limits of assuming that word choice (taken out of context) will tell you what people think. The word "funny" might have been part of the phrase "not funny," but Wordle can't tell you that. Its interesting to see that "bad" is used far more than "worst," and that people think of this as a Mike Myers film more than anything (again, obvious, but worth noting). Also, the word "critics" indicates that the critics lambasting of this film carried some weight with people (you don't see "critics" in many other worldes for other films).Casablanca (11 on Top 250 list). Again, "best" and "greatest" are there. "Classic" is there. It would be interesting to see at what year the word "classic" becomes commonly used by people. You would expect it to grow in highly-rated movie word clouds the older the movie is, but maybe there are certain characteristics that make people call a movie "classic" (the centrality of a romance? PG content?). In any case, its far more interesting to me to look at the ways in which hundreds or thousands of viewers use words like "classic" than the ways in which a handful of critics use them. Definately something worth exploring further.

Against The Daily Show

2009-03-28T09:40:00.000-07:00

After reading a slew of paeans to The Daily Show in Flow and after seeing plenty of conference talks about how wonderful The Daily Show is, I have reached the conclusion that media/comm studies folks have an alarmingly univocal (and ultimately uncritical) love for this show.

The arguments usually go something like this: "legitimate" news organizations aren't doing their jobs as well as they could or should. Evidence: their failure to cry foul before the start of the Iraq War, their failure to cover Hurricane Katrina in a fair, accurate manner, the failure of taking x conservative politician/member-of-the-press/business leader to task before he ruined a bunch of people's lives. The Daily Show picks up the slack. It speaks the truth when no legitimate news source can. It is effective satire in the tradition of Mark Twain. You may think that young people are watching TDS instead of watching or reading other news sources and that its making them more cynical, but studies have revealed the opposite: they're less cynical than the average person and they read and watch more news than non-viewers. Thus, evidence suggests TDS makes viewers more engaged, more skeptical (as opposed to cynical), and more aware of the world around them.

Allow me to present the counter-argument. First, some ground rules. Let's acknowledge the third person effect: the idea that we all tend to think that the media exerts a strong influence on other people but not on ourselves. We tend to think of ourselves as individuals who have free will, who make intelligent decisions as to what information to consume and how we think about issues, while others are susceptible to the influence of demagogues. My political beliefs lead me to seek out TDS and NPR but my exposure to those information outlets does not change those beliefs, whereas Fox News and Rush Limbaugh have the power to influence viewers' and listeners' beliefs. If they did not, then we wouldn't have any reason to criticize them. If they're just entertainers, then what's the problem?

I'm familiar with the argument that b/c Stewart frames his show as comedy on a comedy network and various conservatives like O'Reilly and Limbaugh frame their programs as news, that one is less likely to influence the views of listeners or viewers than the other. This logic has an appealing obviousness to it, but the intentions of Stewart and the framing of his show are beside the point. It is possible that satiric content, which viewers acknowledge to be "just comedy," is just as likely to influence views as non-satiric content. Both pointed satire and that which poses as "hard news" are capable of altering (even more capable of bolstering) our views of the world. This isn't to say that the intentions of the creator or genre classifications don't play some role in the ways that viewers/listeners/readers process the information, but Stewart is mistaken in thinking that his role as comedian determines the degree of his influence. Its his prerogative to not see himself as responsible for the alteration or bolstering of viewers' beliefs, but his take on his own personal responsibility as a satirist has nothing to do with the question of effect.

There is ample empirical evidence that suggests we are all mistaken in our assumptions about the effectiveness of media to alter worldveiws, that neither conservative nor liberal, well-informed nor uninformed, over-educated nor under-educated, fans of satire and fans of supposedly hard news are any less susceptible to having our views of the world altered (against our will, so to speak) by what we watch, listen to, and read than anyone else.

So, premise #1: TDS could lead to people thinking a certain way about the world around them without those people being aware that their views of the world are being altered by that program.

How do we know if that's happening, and how do we know the ways in which it is happening?

The idea that TDS and other sources of "soft news" substitute for "hard news" sources in viewers' media diets has been debunked. Also, viewers seem more likely to vote, more likely to join civic organizations and volunteer, more able to cite objective facts about what's going on in the world.

That leaves the following likely negative effects that i don't think have been addressed by scholars:

the tendency for viewers to be more partisan - viewers make decisions as to whether or not an idea is good based on whether it is associated with conservative or liberals and not based on evidence that suggests that the idea would work in certain circumstances and not in others. Decisions are made based on principles (which are cultivated by the show) or based on whether the sources of information have contradicted themselves at any point in time (if they have, then everything they ever say is called into question).
the tendency for viewers to focus on blame rather than solutions, the exacerbation of the its-not-me-its-you tendency that we all have (that is, viewers of the show and other shows that focus on the blaming-others narrative of news will be more likely to focus their energy on ferreting out other people's evil doings and less likely to spend time thinking of possible solutions to those problems and trying them out than non-viewers)

If I had to speculate on the kinds of thinkers that TDS turns its viewers into, I would say that its people who believe that when a person in power (govt, media, finance) says one thing and later says something different, then that person loses all credibility and should be ousted in favor of someone who has yet to be proven as hypocritical. If everyone thought this way, then we would end up with political, media, and financial leaders who were ideologues. Say what you will about ideologues, at least they're consistent. You can't play a tape of them saying something they will later contradict because they never change their opinions about anything regardless of how circumstances change. Is that a good thing?

And yes, veiwers of TDS seek out other source of news, but what orientation do they approach that news with? I would argue that when they watch those other news sources, they take the bits of it that are consistent with TDS's view of the world and ascribe the rest to traditional news media's inability to tell it like it is, the failure of traditional journalism in the face of powerful governments and corporations. They're not making critical decisions about the information from other news sources based on anything but a need to see the world in a way that conforms to their existing view of it. Again, people have this tendency in the first place, but I would argue that TDS exacerbates it.

I also believe that the "people were always this way" argument is inadequate. I can imagine a world in which a lot of people think about an issue and make a decision on what to do or who to vote for based on evidence that suggests that the policy or action proposed will bring about good things for many people. How many conservatives actually examine the intricacies of the circumstances in which taxing the rich or running of deficits leads to long-term gain instead of just saying that taxes in a recession are bad? How many liberals consider the implications of the constant risk of nuclear war given the existence of over 10,000 active nuclear warheads?

Many people don't want to think about the other side of an issue. They want to get angry, and they want to laugh. TDS helps them do that. In fact, maybe it leads to more and more people getting angry and laughing instead of looking for solutions. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it does something totally different. We have a responsibility to find out the answers to such questions.

Hanging out in Ye Olde Towne Square

2009-03-15T18:53:00.001-07:00

I was chatting with a friend this evening about the proliferation of cellphones in other countries, specifically Mexico. As is the case with a lot of Non-US towns, many towns in Mexico made the leap from very few telephones to tons of cellphones, skipping the intermediary step of many household land-lines. She was saying that before the rise of cellphones, young people would go to the town square to hang out at night. You could count on seeing your friends and peers at the square, and you couldn't really make plans to hang out in smaller groups at more specific places because you lacked the means to coordinate plans on short notice.

I'd never really thought about it before, but phones and email allow young people the opportunity to make plans to hang out. I suppose you would also see people at school and make plans there to hang out later, but the point is that you'd always have to be somewhere where there were a lot of people in order to see your friends. For older people, the pub or the coffee house were the places where you would see your peers and socialize. Once you introduce phones, you allow people the means to selectively hang out with certain people while avoiding others. Its not that we don't go to public places like bars or malls anymore, but I wouldn't be surprised if hanging out with small groups of friends substituted for hanging out with larger groups in public, especially in places where they went from having no means of communicating with peers to everyone having a device that allows people to coordinate plans on very short notice.

I'd always thought of the influence of cellphones on the public sphere in terms of the actual number of people you talked to, or how long you talked to them for. But now, I'm prompted to consider how phones are used to make plans for meeting in physical space and how those plans are different than the ones you could've made without that device.

What are the implications of this? You'd be less apt to see extreme differences in the US. We've had phones for quite some time, and the adoption of phones was concurrent with the adoption of many other domestic technologies (namely the television) which might've contributed to the destruction of the public square as a social hub. But in a place where they had television, film, and radio already and then suddenly get cellphones, you might see a drastic change in the hanging-out habits of youngsters.

Of course, we now have online equivalents of the public square in the form of Facebook and other social networks and fora. But what about the places where accessing those online public squares is difficult (maybe b/c they've got cellphones that can't access the internet or that make it much easier to communicate P2P but not in groups)? Its important to pull apart these two 21st century technologies - cellphone and internet - and examine their influences on societies independent of one another. If you've got no public space to see your peers, would you have a strong sense of community with those who lived around you, with your town, with your country?

Mashups: Turning individual mediocrities into collective gold

2009-03-08T12:32:00.000-07:00

I've just stumbled upon (via Heffernan's blog) yet another mashup that has swept me off my feet: ThruYou. I felt the same giddy charge that I felt when watching that ol' Brokeback to the Future mashup video, when first hearing DJ Shadow's Entroducing, when that rash of "Artist1 Vs. Artist2" mashup songs circulated a few years back, when I was sitting in the Library of Congress this summer doing research and listened to Girl Talk for the first time (I had this dopey grin plastered on my face; must've looked like an idiot). What the hell is it about mashups that I find alluring, especially now that the novelty of the form has worn off?

In the case of Girl Talk, he lingers just long enough on one combination of samples to establish a danceable groove and to make you chuckle at the juxtaposition of the original meanings of the sampled songs. There's a kind of thrill at being able to move so easily and quickly across genres and eras. The decontextualization of the braggadocio of contemporary rap and the seriousness of the arena rock renders the samples explicitly comic (the fact that I grew up in a world totally different than the ones inhabited by the songwriters already gave me this kind of distance from the lyrics). Many of the songs he samples are about the assertion of individuality and dominance. What could be better than to take parts of those boasts and create something collective, free, and funny out of them? And the fact that there are rhythmic and melodic bonds between songs as culturally disparate as late-80's Metallica and Lil' Mama is somehow comforting.

ThruYou is the same thing but with user-generated content for beat fodder. By and large, the song remains the same (sounds a lot like DJ Shadow to my ears), but the fact that he's using clips of people playing riffs in their bedrooms all over the world makes the songs feel different to me. With DJ Shadow, I feel as though the artist is paying homage to the sampled artists, reviving long forgotten songs in the hopes that new fans will find the originals. With Girl Talk, I feel like he's playing a prank on the original artists, neutering them. With ThruYou, it feels like he's bringing out the latent collective artistic talent that lies in every mediocre individual. ThruYou is to YouTube musicians as Google is to webpages. To say that he creates something that is greater than the sum of its parts is an understatement.

Even though they have access to billions of recorded sounds, DJs produce music that sounds, well, pretty familiar. If you're not into this particular kind of music, then it doesn't matter how it was created. This needn't be the case. But perhaps in order to be pleasing to the ear, like original music, it has to build on familiar melodies and rhythmes. Still, its not only the sound of mashups that makes them pleasurable (at least for those of us who dig these familiar rhythms and melodies). Its the baggage that the samples come with.

What gets written about in Media Studies?

2009-02-20T21:21:00.000-08:00

I just went to a talk about the portrayal of women in shows and movies about the spiritual/supernatural in the late 1990's. Of course, the key text that the scholar was examining was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. the speaker described people's reactions when she told them she was writing about Buffy. Generally, people reacted negatively because so many media scholars (particularly those working in the feminist or cultural studies traditions) write about this one show. This was followed by a justification by the scholar as to why she was writing about this one very-written-about show. It was part of a larger trend that she was examining, it ran for a relatively long time (6 years), and it was fairly popular.

The idea of one show or movie being "better" than another is one that most media scholars, I would expect, would reject. And yet it seems impossible to get away from, because we must write about certain texts and not others. What do we base our selections on?

What we love: My problem with this is it will lead to a few shows/movies being written about a lot while most other shows/movies don't get written about at all. This seems to be happening in film studies. There are a million papers about The Searchers, which isn't a bad thing per se, but shouldn't the number of films that scholars examine and write about be larger? Shouldn't we aspire to examine a diverse set of texts, however one might define diversity? Also, there are plenty of hyper-articulate, passionate, super-smart people who write about texts they love on the internet. They're called fans. Part of the discipline of media scholarship, part of what sets us apart, is our willingness to consider texts that we don't like. Examples: Buffy, The Searchers.

What is popular: I like this strategy, but only if it pertains to films/shows that are popular over a long period of time in multiple cultures, and ideally, independent of the degree to which they were promoted (extra promotion gives some shows/movies an unfair advantage over other shows/movies that would've been just as popular had they had the marketing muscle behind them). If it is desirable to have the deepest knowledge about the greatest number of media experiences, starting with the most popular experiences seems like a good idea. Example: The CSIs and Law & Orders.

What isn't popular: Scholars often take it upon themselves to act as a corrective influence on readers' tastes, trying to counteract the effects of extensive mainstream marketing by "rescuing" lesser known works that are usually aimed at marginalized audiences. This isn't so much about enlarging our collective understanding about how media and culture work as it is about acting is opposition to the private corporate influence on culture. Examples: Stan Brakhage, Queer as Folk, soap operas (yes, I know soaps are "popular" in that they endure much longer than any other text, but it depends on how you look at it. Individual episodes are disposable in the way that news reports are disposable. They don't have a long shelf life).

What did/could/should have an impact on culture: Even if a show wasn't particularly popular, it may have exerted a significant influence on culture or cultural form thereafter. A show like My So-Called Life wasn't very popular when it aired. I doubt that its very popular now (DVD sales and all). And yet its hard to argue with the fact that every teen drama that came after it resembles it in many ways, and that no show that came before it was quite like it. Ditto to Arrested Development, which has spawned a ton of voice-over single camera comedies that might usher out the era of sitcoms (fingers crossed). Its exceptionally difficult to anticipate what shows/movies will have the greatest influence in the future, but if we look back, we can see some unpopular-yet-influential texts. Unfortunately, a lot of scholars try to promote texts they happen to like as highly influential (or possibly influential in the future), but this is just textual boosterism, plain and simple.

Selecting Purely at Random: No one I know of does this, but it strikes me as a good way to go about studying media. If you did it enough, you'd get a pretty good (that is to say, unbiased) sample of all media. Thus, the conclusions you drew about the texts you happened to look at would be generalizable to a much larger portion of all media than any other selection technique. I was going through old TV Guides for some research and kept seeing shows that I knew no scholar or fan was ever going to write about, and this seemed like a shame to me. Again, if we want to form larger theories about how media works, we should broaden our horizons to include texts that don't fit into any of the above categories: the truly mundane texts.

Some texts can fit into more than one of these categories. My next project: taking a survey of texts written about in scholarly journals and those written about on blogs, to see what categories and texts we've got covered and which ones need covering.

What else would you have done?

2009-01-30T17:23:00.000-08:00

In reading a shit-ton of media effects articles for several classes, I've come back to some of the same questions about their worth. I should say that I generally subscribe to the idea that most of these studies really do reveal something about what media cause us to think or how they cause us to behave or feel. Just so we're clear, I'm talking about the articles about the effects of violent video games on aggression, or of advertisements with skinny models on reader/viewer's body image. I accept the findings that say that, even when you control for things like pre-existing trait aggression and low self-esteem and latent racism and various attachment styles and SES, the media can have a negative influence on you, even though you might not be aware of it.

The findings imply that if you don't want to be problematically aggressive, bigoted, self-hating, or anorexic, you should avoid exposing yourself to certain media. OK, fine. But what do you then do to satisfy that craving that you would've satisfied with that media, and are we sure that the media in question wasn't providing you with some positive influence that might outweight the negative influence?

This occurred to me while watching a talk on UMich's Channel 22 about the causes of cancer. There were some things, like wine for instance, that caused women's risk of breast cancer to go up a tiny but measurable amount. However, it caused their risk of cardiovascular disease to go down a bit. And wine tastes good and makes you feel good. So, even if we accept that initial bit of information - that wine makes you slightly more likely to get breast cancer - we still may choose to drink wine for other reasons. Similarly, even if you know the risk of getting lung cancer from smoking, you may choose to smoke. You may also watch violent porn even though you know it will make you more likely to be callous towards rape victims.

I think we need to ask what people would have done if they didn't do something that they know is bad for them. It is possible that if a person chose not to smoke those cigarettes, that they might use booze to fill that void, becoming an alcoholic. It is possible that even if they resist all temptation in the form of substance, they may just become more ornery and hard to be around, driving people away which, in turn, makes them more depressed and hostile towards others. It is also possible that, after a rough patch of having to do without those vices, that the person breaks their bad habit and finds things that make them a happier, healthier person.

In order to make a judgment as to whether or not an individual or a group of people should stop doing x (be it smoking cigs, watching violent porn or slasher films, drinking wine, eating bacon, whatever), you have to consider the choice to engage in that vice in the context of that person or those people's lives. That's damn difficult, and when it comes to addicts, we know that they can't be trusted to make that judgment. But to simply say that just because a vice has an established negative effect and expect people to use that information to stop doing whatever it is that they're doing doesn't make sense to me.

I guess what I'm advocating for is a holistic study of why people engage with media that is known to have harmful, anti-social effects. That doesn't mean that you're advocating its use, necessarily. Too often, conversations I've had on tabloids, Jerry Springer, soap operas or other "trash media" turn into arguments between people who think it really fucks w/ people's heads and other people who think that it helps them cope with the troubles of everyday life and its just being attacked b/c it doesn't appeal to the wealthy, white male heterosexual establishment. We get it. Both of those things could be true. Study of the effects of media, and indeed the worth of media, needs to move beyond that petty argument. We need to ask, with open minds, what are the good things and what are the bad things about each bit of media for each different type of person.

How do we Study Audiences on YouTube?

2009-01-11T11:06:00.000-08:00

To make a broad generalization, comments on YouTube videos aren't terribly different from the back-and-forth you'd find on any message board or chat room. They're meaner, more succinct, more candid, and less articulate than face-to-face interactions. What intrigues me about the comments is the fact that you can click on the usernames of commenters and get a little bit of an idea of who these people are (or at least what they like to watch, which could be as good an indicator as any as to who they really are).

There's a lot of data: networks of desires, groups and sub-groups. I know its unprecedented and very valuable, but its a bit overwhelming. What is the object of such inquiry? Is it to learn something about the interactions that are going on in the YouTube forum, the cultural exchanges, the conflicts, the bridges built? Or can we use it as a way to learn more about audiences, what they prefer, why they prefer it? Maybe you can't extricate the two from one another: the social use of this forum and the desire fulfillment of watching videos.

Let's take an example.

I arrived at it through a stream-of-consciousness-like series of clicks (a headline on digg mentioned a Mr. T soundbite, I looked for it on YouTube, found it buried in a random TV clip montage that featured clips from Life Goes On, searched for more clips from Life Goes On, and found this one). Its this kind of meandering that makes the internet fun to use, IMO. Anyway, the comments feature the predictable Down-Syndrome-bashing that one would expect in such a forum, a classic example of Lulz (defined loosely as humor derived at someone else's expense). One comment - "I will kill that fucking retarded sack of shit." - seemed a little more cruel than the others.

So I clicked on the Username and pulled up Adam1357923's account. The actual profile information is rarely a good indicator of who anyone is on YouTube (he lists his age as 104). We've got 21 favorited videos to check out: 4 Rocky clips, a few action fight scenes, some clips from There Will Be Blood, a speech by Daniel Day Lewis at the SAG awards, and a clip from Willie Wonka in which Gene Wilder berates someone. We might characterize these clips as hyper-masculine, angry, violent, generally made in the 80's or early 90's.

Let's say we find adam1357923's anti-social remark undesirable. We want to find out how anti-social behavior takes root so that we might keep it from occurring or becoming more prevalent. Let's say that our hypothesis is that the tendency to express these anti-social remarks is cultivated by peer behavior and mass media. If we see anti-social behavior (or pro-social violence) in media clips, we're more apt to think that such behavior is acceptable or normal. If we see a war happening half a world away or other people laughing at someone for being different, we think "That's what people do. They kill each other and they make fun of each other. There's no way to stop it. It is human nature." If we see that others accept or endorse these images in some vague manner, if we see that these images are popular (as indicated by how many other people have watched or favorited the clips), then that sense of normalcy, of social acceptability, is reinforced to a greater degree. Finally, if we read an endorsement written by another user, we get the sense that other people, possibly like us, have gone to the trouble of commenting on some depiction of behavior. Arguably, this reinforces the norm to a still greater degree.

It is unlikely that the videos, comments, and user favorite lists create anti-social behavior. Such behavior is much more likely to be a function of home life, economic status, or educational background. Nevertheless, there's reason to believe that use of such media, like exposure to traditional violent media, propagates anti-social behavior or expressions/endorsements of such behavior. If the goal is to curtail anti-social behavior, then I think that careful study of YouTube participation can give us an idea of what limits need to be set on use by parents and by ourselves in order to prevent its spread.

I don't think those limits should be imposed by a government telling people what they can or cannot watch, mostly b/c I don't think they can be imposed in a user-generated-content (UGC) mediasphere. This brings me to my UGC strong effects theory: There is reason to believe UGC is more likely to influence behavior, for better or worse, b/c its perceived as being more "real" or more reflective of actual social norms than professionally-created media and b/c, logistically, it would be impossible to ferret out anti-social behavior (however one might define that) on the internet. Professionally created media had to adhere to a set of norms that were set by the FCC. You may argue that these norms reflected a conservative view of sex, a lack of concern for violence, and a disregard for bigotry, but whatever you make of these loose set of rules, they tended to yield media that were reasonbly uniform in the behavior it depicted. This is not the case with UGC, which tends to reflect "marginalized" behavior that is forbidden by traditional media (extreme violence, extreme bigotry, sexual coercion, etc). To make an analogy: professional media is like a parent. They tell you a certain version of reality that you gradually come to realize is "whitewashed" or sanitized. UGC is like a peer from school (the one whose parents don't seem to give a shit about) who knows about and is more than willing to share information about the darker side of human behavior. He exaggerates from time to time, but to an audience that is realizing just how phony the world depicted by the rule-constricted mainstream media, his version of social reality can seem beguilingly...real.

As viewers and as researchers, we can't fall into this trap. We do not get a complete picture of who adam1357923 is. We only see a partial picture of what he uses YouTube for, so we must be cautious about any conclusions we draw from such a limited picture. Still, YouTube presents us with information that it would take millions of dollars worth of research grants to have found in the dark ages. Let the random profile-clicking commence!