While I was living overseas, I knew of other Americans who coped with culture shock for the first few months by holing themselves up in their rooms, immersed in their own social networks back home. They didn’t go out much and occasionally would lament, “I just don’t have anything in common with the people around me.” For one, the majority of real-life people surrounding them spoke in a language foreign to them, and for another, the handful of people who did speak English came from all walks of life and backgrounds. They weren’t really into the idea of friendships/community by accident of proximity, which Galston (2000) wants us to think, is really not so bad. It would have been healthy for these people to reach out to others, not to mention lessen the effects of culture shock; tons of articles have been written on the emotional and mental health benefits of a real-life, good old-fashioned friendship. I am now friends with one of those people who started out that way, and we found out eventually that we did have a lot in common.
What’s so persuasive about Galston’s article is that he starts out with the example of television, and how destructive it has been to American society. Before, we used to let our children roam the streets and play until evening, but now that’s been replaced by television and violent video games. We don’t know our neighbors and communities anymore; they have become depersonalized to the extent that we may actually fear them (while watching the evening news we may have good reason to be). In a prophetic manner, he is warning us of the further damage our society could be doing to itself by being ‘duped’ into this notion that we are fostering communities online.
I for one, believe that it may be too early to tell. He gave one example of how online communities were useful, with one ‘lone archivist in a city library system’ but didn’t give examples of how online communities have actually been life-affirming for traditionally marginalized and oppressed groups. Perhaps because it would have contradicted his argument entirely.
By noting that “text is an impoverished medium for communicating emotion, intent, real meaning,” Weeks (2009) concurs with Galston’s overall thesis, and brings up a drastic point using the mother who had threatened her baby’s life (or so it appeared) on Twitter. Is this what Albrechtslund (2008) had in mind when he suggested that surveillance could be potentially empowering? On the contrary, the mother’s own self-surveillance had turned into self-incrimination, when the police showed up on her doorstep.
There was very little I agreed with in this article. Although Albrechtslund, and even Galston, say that these communities are non-hierarchical and based on mutuality, I have spent enough time in online communities to observe that they are not. For example, I have been in virtual worlds where my female avatars were outright harassed and humiliated by male avatars. Now I take on a male avatar if I want to freely enjoy what certain VWs have to offer. This is not empowerment (Galston would point out that it is an example of loss of “voice”). Gender inequality aside, what about the hierarchy that exists between longtime users and “newbies” in online communities? It is almost military-style protocol that newbies have to follow to avoid being ostracized. Or the folks that consistently dominate message boards, intimidating and silencing those who are afraid to post comments? Are these not examples of hierarchy?
Out of the all of the articles, possibly the one that resonated with me the most is Rosen’s (2007). Rather than empowering users, according to Rosen, self-made profiles encourage narcissism, deception, falsification of oneself. “One’s entrĂ©e into this world generally isn’t through a virtual neighborhood or community but through the revelation of personal information.” Users of SNSs peer pressure their friends and family into joining and actively participating in them. By not participating you give off the impression that you’re someone who just doesn’t care about the lives of your friends and families, nevermind worries about privacy and other issues.
Bigge (2006) is in agreement with Rosen over the notion that a lot of us are practically forced into these social networks, by peer pressure or perhaps a force more powerful (like a snazzy interface, perhaps?). And once you’re in, accumulating a ton of friends can become a major goal, although I do have to say that it varies from person to person and depends heavily on the users’ real-life personalities. A lot of my more outgoing friends have near or surpassed 1,000 friends on Facebook, while the more quieter types have less than 100.
Bigge brings up a really good point about how users of SNSs provide free labor and free advertising to these companies, simply by their usage. One company turned this idea into a real charity, which I noticed that none of the articles addressed, and so I went to investigate this:
The image I commented on:
The image I commented on:
Although toilet humor abounds on this one website, its actual mission is not something to laugh about. Simply by visiting and using the site, which relies heavily upon advertisements, you can make money for charity (I can already feel some jaded/suspicious people rolling their eyes, I know, but I still think that the idea itself is great). From one visit, by the time I had finished browsing, I made around 5 cents in 10 minutes for New Orleans Habitat for Humanity, just by commenting on others pictures and clicking on various internal pages. 1.1 cents is donated each time you write 140 characters or upload a picture. If you're interested in participating, just be careful if they ask for credit card or phone numbers, but I think clicking on things and uploading images is safe enough...
To raise funds in the past I have: answered telephones, stood for hours selling cookies, held signs in the hot sun, washed cars, wore strange outfits, bugged all my friends and relatives to buy expensive coupons, etc. This was by far the easiest way for me to raise money. I don't think I would've been able to replicate this experience in real-life.
To raise funds in the past I have: answered telephones, stood for hours selling cookies, held signs in the hot sun, washed cars, wore strange outfits, bugged all my friends and relatives to buy expensive coupons, etc. This was by far the easiest way for me to raise money. I don't think I would've been able to replicate this experience in real-life.
