Cyberia: Exploring infrastructures of Bangalore’s Cybercafés

Cyberia is a poetic provocation in the form of a photographic series that explores infrastructures of Cybercafés in Bangalore. What does it mean to use these overlooked spaces today—as a worker, a client, or simply an artist? These sites composed of passages, objects, and stories—reveal a sense of connection, privacy, self-expression, surveillance, and manipulation. Against this backdrop, the work migrates across different supports, shaping and affecting people, landscapes, politics, and social networks.

As an artist based in Bangalore, I am interested in looking at the ramification and behind the scene of the power of tech-enabled innovation from a localized perspective. How has the internet changed the way we encounter various conditions? A domestic space as well as a technological screen, allows structural ironies of the world to be projected, and imagination-driven suggestions to be pondered upon in contemporary times.

Furthermore, my photographs respond to these questions: what is so culturally particular about these structures in Bangalore? How are these spaces a reflection of the social urban fabric? And what is the future of these frameworks especially in the age of new technologies, open-source software, and cyber-security? The images evoke artistic and conceptual associations to forgotten histories, occupations, circulations, and localities, documenting and capturing the inherently curious nature of these sites as well as the uncanny ability of Cybercafés – that transform and activate in a variety of models. Conceived as a portal to disrupt prevailing patterns—aspirations, truth and fiction, society—and their limitations.


This project is part of the 25 x 25 Initiative by India Foundation for the Arts, supported by lead donor Kshirsagar-Apte Foundation, and philanthropy partners Titan Company Limited, Priya Paul, and Sethu Vaidyanathan.

About the artist: Born in Bangalore, India, Shruti Chamaria graduated from the Royal College of Art (London) in 2017, after working as a graphic designer for cultural institutions and creative individuals across Europe and Asia such as Studio Thomas Buxo (Amsterdam) and Art Asia Pacific (Hong Kong). Her personal practice deals with hyperreality of spaces, objects, and memories, and her work in this regard has been shown at Rotterdam Photo Festival (Rotterdam), Offprint – Tate Modern (London), Athens Photo Festival (Athens), J Book Show – Cork Photo Festival (Cork) and India Foundation for the Arts (Bangalore). Her publication How to Sit for the Camera is also distributed by A6 Books, a subsidiary project of the London Centre for Book Arts (London), as well as MoMA PS1 (New York) and Printed Matter (New York).

A conversation between Anab Jain and Marta Peirano, as recorded and retold in a small colony of ants

Written by: Gabriele Ferri and Inte Gloerich


Ant 1: [Wiggles antennae, wiggles antennae, wiggles antennae.] I bring an interesting message to pass along.

Ant 2: [Wiggles, wiggles.] I’m listening.

Ant 1: This is something that I’m passing along on behalf of my other sisters in the colony, who received it from another anthill, which received it from another anthill, and so on until we can’t count that anymore.

Ant 2: [Opens jaws. Closes jaws.] I’m listening.

Ant 1: My sisters have been using internet quite a lot. It’s not difficult after you get the hang of it. A few sunsets ago, they listened to a human conversation. It’s complicated to understand, they just can’t wiggle their antennae, but we don’t want to judge their communication system. It’s not necessarily worse than ours, it’s just different.

Ant 3: What is the message? [Wiggles antennae.]

Ant 1: Some humans are showing some encouraging signs of a more mature rapport with our environment. This is a thought that come for our queen ant. We have listened to Anab Jain and Marta Peirano discuss at an event called “(re)programming – Strategies for Self-Renewal”. If you find an internet cable, you can watch the recording at this URL, write it down:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k40Rddp7OE0

Ant 2: [Scratches jaws.] Who is Anab Jain?

Ant 1: Anab Jain co-founded Superflux, which is a studio that “creates worlds, stories, and tools that provoke and inspire” the humans “to engage with the precarity of our rapidly changing world.” [Wiggles antennae.] You should remember about the other ant colony that lived in that small apartment full of things that grow food like we do in our tunnels. That’s something that Anab and her partner Jon Ardern call “Mitigation of Shock,” and if you wait your turn to use our antennae-to-internet connection you can look it up here: https://superflux.in/index.php/work/mitigation-of-shock/.

Ant 4: Humans are not smart at all. [Shrugs antennae, wiggles butt.] It is a well-known fact that they can’t interpret future scenarios. Our reality could be their future!

Ant 1: [Shakes jaws, shakes antennae.] Anab and Superflux seem to prove differently, if you care to pay attention to these strange humans. They say that what they do is not predicting a future that will necessarily take place, and it is not about making accurate predictions. Instead, they emphasize storytelling and the creation of imaginaries that provoke reflection on what could happen.

Ant 4: Just like we do when we raise an alarm throughout the ant colony.

Ant 1: [Wiggles antennae.] Yes, something like that. Anab says that they search for ethnographic and anthropological insights. They listen for what they call “weak signals,” which are meaningful elements that they capture throughout human discourses, and that may hint to future possibilities. Then, they produce diagrams, quadrants, and other schemas that highlight interconnections and interdependencies. When they find something that captures a provocative possibility, they flesh it out. It is a matter of putting different weak signals in relation to one another and exploring/expanding that constellation of elements. Anab and Superflux are interested in examining the fringes and experimenting with when and how they enter mainstream mundane life. For them, envisioning a future is never a matter of abstract thinking, but mostly of translating a set of interdependencies in an experience.

Ant 2: [Scratches head. Wiggles antennae.]

Ant 1: [Wiggles head.] Marta asked how Superflux avoids the pitfall of imagining future scenarios that are very different to what we are experiencing now.

Ant 4: [Closes jaws.] She’s right! Humans should look closer at what is happening around them.

Ant 1: Anab thinks that there’s no future without history, and so it stands to reason to look back in order to look ahead. Of course, it’s fundamental to avoid falling into determinism. This could be achieved by considering multiple levels of critical sense-making – which are the diagrams and interdependencies that she mentioned before – and by reflecting on the biases and preconceptions that the analyst inevitably brings to the table.

Ant 4: [Wiggles butt.] Of course, humans have a tendency to visualize the past and the future as a sequence of events carried out by well-defined actors, often anthropomorphic.

Ant 2: Ah! Anthropomorphic! Why not ant-ropomorphic for a change?? [Wiggles butt vigorously.]

Ant 1: Anab thinks that humans must embrace complexity and be critical of reductive visions of the future based on the ‘archetypical single hero.’ (Also, our mother queen ant agrees with Anab.) This is what Superflux experimented with in Mitigation of Shock, which is less a tale of survival and more a reflection on the interconnecting social, cultural, and ecological forces that shape humans’ future. Instead of those awful shiny materials that don’t welcome critters like us, when Anab looks ahead, she sees systems that build bridges between multiple species and are useful for more than just humans.

Ant 4: [Wiggles antennae, wiggles antennae.] This reminds me of what happens in a forest, where the connections between mushrooms and plants shape the whole ecosystem with very complex feedback loops, where we ants play a fundamental role.

Ant 1: [Wiggles antennae enthusiastically.] Indeed! [Wiggles antennae.] We should all – ants and humans – imagine an ecological cooperation between different multispecies actors. If we could imagine a cooperative network of different entities, we would be able to have a much larger positive impact on the world. It’s never a matter of one project, one species, one hero, but a convergence/emergence of many factors that lead to an outcome.

Ant 3: [Wiggles antennae.] Excuse me! [Wiggles antennae.] I want to discuss this in the next colony study group. Who’s with me?

Ant 1: Me! I already picked up some books that Anab referred to so we can study them together. I will put them in the communal library later. I found a book about our friends the mushrooms and how they can thrive in the ruins that humans create around the world: Anna Tsing – The Mushroom at the End of the World. Perhaps we can find out how to learn from the mushrooms. It seems like humans like to write about what happens at the end of the world, because I also took this book by Timothy Morton with me, it’s called Hyperobjects: Philosophy and Ecology after the End of the World and it is about how there are things in the world that are so big that it is hard to see them, like climate change. And the other book I found is really nice because it refers to all kinds of beings and machines as critters, not just ants and other normal-sized animals like us. Everyone is a critter, and everyone can become kin! We are all together in this! It’s written by Donna Haraway and called Staying with the Trouble.

Ant 5: [Wiggles antennae, wiggles butt.] This is all fine and dandy, but I’m curious to know what Anab and Superflux are working on these days.

Ant 1: [Opens and closes jaws.] You’re right, I was a bit curious after hearing about them. I had to queue for a while to find an empty spot in our antennae-to-internet connection, but I was finally able to find this link: https://superflux.in/index.php/work/refuge-for-resurgence/. Superflux will be presenting a new work, titled Refuge for Resurgence, at the Venice Architecture Biennale. It is a large, beautiful oak table around which all life-forms – including ants, and also humans – can gather as equals to dine together.

Ant 4: [Wiggles antennae.] Seems appropriate. As humans go, these ones seem smart enough.

Ant 6: Make way! Make way! We found an edible seed!

Everybody rushes to help, as more-than-human philosophical conversations temporarily leave space to foraging and caring for the anthill.


The (re)programming: Interdependence event was organized by Aksioma and can be watched here.

 

Political Art As Critical Theory In Armand Hammer’s Haram

‘It’s difficult to write about somebody who is a better writer than you,’ billy woods elucidates. Together with fellow rapper ELUCID, they make up the New York duo Armand Hammer, whose recently released album Haram dotted with lyrical references to literature, Critical Theory, shrewd social and political commentary. As a digital humanities grad student and music enthusiast, I rejoiced to see these worlds colliding in an artistic endeavor composed so aesthetically, executed with such skillful ingenuity and dense in its subject matter. But how can I write something about someone who’s a better writer than I am? Well, by not aiming to do an album review but instead trying to stitch together what makes this album important to introduce to an audience beyond the (abstract) hip hop demographics: the INC reader. We can look beyond our own discourse and find similarities in the avant-garde assemblage that is Haram, where critical writing is mediated through a different format: music and lyricism.

Armand Hammer is regarded as underground, abstract, or experimental. This genre is often signified by the musical choice or abstract lyrics. In Haram’s case, however, it’s the entire aesthetic beyond the music and lyrics is abstract, the complete presentation is an experimental experience. I’d say it is submerged in an avant-garde aesthetic even. I’m not using that word lightly here. In various ways, it’s unconventional and unorthodox. Lending the term from Islamic vernacular, Haram refers to impurity, forbidden, or to those not initiated into sacred knowledge. Together with the provoking and symbolic cover of two severed pig heads, one should feel warned about the content. Not to scare of without trigger warnings, but to approach this art piece with caution as it presents radical ideas.

Home - Backwoodz Studioz

Cover art for Haram.

These radical ideas are not only found in lyrics but also in the way the immaculate producer The Alchemist sampled, created, and arranged the music. There is a keen coherence between the rappers’ lyrics, cadence, and applied delays, echoes, or stutters on the vocals by The Alchemist, his beats, the song titles, and the audio snippets from boxing matches, David Lynch, Barry White, Little Richard, 60s movies and conversations on hysteria with references to Freud’s professor and neurology pioneer Charcot scattered across this album. Collectively, this amounts to a layered narrative, consciously assembled piece by piece in order to provoke the listener with thought-provoking or radical ideas. So even before addressing the lyrics, the conformity or coherence of the experimental aesthetic that is Haram already hints at the unapologetic insights to be found in the lyrics.

You need permission to have an issue with me
I’m not privy to the stories you live inside
A home of alt history, I just bend the rhyme
No mystery, God, deepest look inside
Thick fog on the channel, rando pseudo Rambo, bad camo
Armed to a T as in tango
Letha Brainz Blo, baldhead in Kangol
(ELUCID on Sir Benni Miles)

Thought-provoking music–especially in rap, of course– is nothing new. Rap is viewed as a channel of free speech that connects listeners to social and political issues explained by the artist in poetic fashion. It also creates solidarity among those with similar subcultural capital, that is those in the know: music was used during times of slavery to communicate experiences beyond the understanding of the colonizers. You can look at the godfather of rap Gil-Scott Heron for a 20th-century example of this. Situated in a jazz-funk and soul, his spoken-word performances utilized social commentary, satire, and literary influence from Harlem Renaissance writers to conjure his art pieces. Songs like ‘Whitey on the Moon’, ‘Winter in America‘ or ‘The Revolution will not be Televised’ provided insight into the zeitgeist of the 70s black American. Weaving together street poetry and songwriting in order to reflect then-contemporary conditions, Heron inspired rappers to take on a similar approach in order to encapsulate their time and space.

You can view Armand Hammer as an extension of Heron. Where class struggle in Marxist terms has always been tied to hip-hop, Armand Hammer, like Heron, expands and argues not only against class struggle but its cultural formation as a system as well, reminiscent of Western Marxist critical theory. “It’s not [only] fuck the police, but more fuck the police state,” professor Skye argues (see video below). The cut Chicharonnes illustrates this as a verbose prose pulling in various pop-cultural and literary references to pigs. The holistic aesthetic returns as the track refers to the double killing of the pigs in the cover: the police state oppressing black Americans and the cop in your thoughts. Critical Theory around identity is present as woods questions the double consciousness of his demographic. As a form of auto-ethnography, they mention what outcomes systems of oppressions have on them. These systems of oppression take form as neoliberalism, Marxist class struggle, or police states. Humor or cynicism also plays an important role here. Kafka-esque surreal humor is surrounded by grudge which, based on the entire aesthetic of Haram, shouldn’t come as a surprise to be a theme. 

Got caught with the pork
But you gotta kill the cop in your thoughts
Still sayin’ “Pause”
Negroes say they hate the cops
But the minute somethin’ off, they wanna use force
I just work here, I’m not the boss (I’m not the boss)
I never bought in, so when it go left, it’s no loss (No loss)
When they look back in history, make sure I’m absolved (Make sure)
Don’t try to rewrite the past, it’s oral history where I’m involved
(billy woods on Chicharonnes)

The scholarly inclination mainly comes from billy woods, whose father was a Zimbabwean Marxist politician, while his mother was an English literary scholar. woods’ entire discography confesses his interest in creative and critical writing (which I’ll leave up to you to discover). Flowery verses are filled with figurative phrases you’ll comprehend only after a few listens. I get the same from reading theory. Try to read a thousand plateaus just once and tell me what it’s about. You can’t (partly because of French theorists are masters in masking the intention of their work behind layers of complex sentences–which get lost in translation even further. Speaking of which… 

A thousand plateaus, a constellation of prisons
An ocean of archipelagos, an algorithm
Apply pressure to achieve desired results
Voices in the ventilation float different
Foucault call collect, sound like long distance
(billy woods on Wishing Bad)

Here, the system of oppression is the ubiquity of platform capitalism, which applies pressure to achieve desired results, whether that be motivated by capital or by increasing control through surveillance. Black boxed algorithms of platforms create an economy in which users perform immaterial labor through digital practices. woods juxtaposes arguably juxtaposes this with life in the gulag, as he uses the word archipelago to pull in a reference to The Gulag Archipelago by Russian writer Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. Foucault can’t be omitted when we talk about systems of discipline and control. woods jumps from the Deleuze and Guattari reference to a parallel he sees in the Foucauldian panopticon (the constellation of prisons) before modernizing the idea that algorithms not only isolate but create self-government in subjects or users of digital platforms. As mentioned in the opening paragraph, it’s difficult to write about somebody who is a better writer than I am. So surely this small deconstruction is probably just half of it, but just well illustrates the density of Haram. (If somebody wants to help me out decipher the last line, that’d be great.)

This subject matter and craft go far beyond the status quo within hip-hop discourse. It can be read and deconstructed as a literary essay. The radical ideas that make it avant-garde are presented in an equally avant-garde manner and thus require a certain literary proficiency. This is exactly what makes the abstract vision of Armand Hammer underground. While the collaboration with the critically acclaimed Alchemist– who dives into the most experimental bag he’s ever touched on this album–does well for Armand Hammer’s reach beyond the underbelly, the rappers’ philosophy just does not stroke with ‘what’s hot’. What’s hot sells, not only numbers but ideology as well. I don’t think Billboard is all that relevant anymore but for the sake of this argument, have a look at the charts: flaunting consumerist and capitalist desire, self-medication through drug use, and the contemporary discourse on love and sex (the latter two also underscore the former two). In order words, popular rap is neoliberal ideology remediated through music, whereas Haram remediates critical thought as a literary narrative through music. This is not my inner old-head speaking, but rather looking at rap as an art form 😅.

One could spend the length of a thesis on a lyrical analysis of billy woods’ art. But using music as a medium, Armand Hammer not only makes political thought on a scholarly level more accessible, it is also presented through the aesthetic lens. The almost redundant aphorism by McLuhan still rings true here: the medium is the message, as it’s far more equipped to deliver the actual message and make an impact than scholarly articles could.

In addition, Armand Hammer goes beyond Hip-hop’s characteristic trait of social commentary. Where Kendrick Lamar’s album To Pimp a Butterfly (TBAP)–in my humble opinion the best album of this century– did have a broad cultural impact through its timely release during civil unrest and its widespread success, Armand Hammer is a little less digestible by means of its density. You could see TPAB as an investigative research journalist while Haram (and essentially all Armand Hammer’s albums) mirror a Critical Theory essay on a similar topic. It’s less focused on timely relevance and more on proposing radical thought through free-flowing association.

Similar to Gil-Scott Heron’s encapsulation of the 70s zeitgeist, Armand Hammer captures the black experience in contemporary neoliberalism. While auto-ethnography presents off-kilter anecdotes or haunting punchlines– starting your album with ‘Dreams are dangerous’ is a certain example. There is no call for reform. However, billy and ELUCID aim to disclose what they discover through their oblique experiences with contemporary society. The critical artform reads like a literary prose, which– in my opinion– is an example of why we can and maybe even need to look beyond our isolated field to situate and trace theory in the wild itself.

 

“Vous Ecoutez La Voix du Peuple”: The Kreyol Language Pirate Radio Stations of Flatbush, Brooklyn

Haitian Radio //
Radyo Ayisyen

Learning from other scholars’ work on Haitian radio was, and still is, one of the greatest pleasures in the process of writing Isles of Noise: Sonic Media in the Caribbean (UNC 2016). People living in or from Haiti widely acknowledged and almost took for granted radio’s outsized role in public and political life. Edwidge Danticat and Jonathan Demme also understood this and paid tribute in Claire of the Sea Light and The Agronomist respectively, but historians remained largely fixated, understandably, on pivotal moments in Haiti’s rich history. Radio is different. Not pivotal, but witnessing the pivotal. Less dramatic and more long lasting and adhering to the same format for days, years, decades. It speaks to people who wouldn’t read newspapers or books. It floods private and public space with the sounds of music, talking, ruling, dissenting, explaining, satirizing, creating, crying, testifying, lying. But it leaves few archival traces. This is why the work of the five scholars in this series is so important. They allow us to hear a little and honor the listeners who make the medium what it is.

To start the series, Ian Coss gave a finely tuned account of a “day in the life” of a radio station in Cap Haïtien that follows the programming rhythm of days and nights.  Then, Jennifer Garcon recounted one of the pivotal points in the relationship—its near breakdown and ultimate survival—also a turning point for a 19-year-old Jean Claude Duvalier, newly proclaimed President for life. Last week, Laura Wagner, who listened to each recording Radio Haïti-Inter and its archive (now at Duke University) and wrote its archival descriptors, writes of the work itself, the emotional, financial and intellectual challenges involved, and the reason this archive is essential to anyone interested in Haiti, or radio, or racial justice.

We continue the series in Brooklyn this week, where amidst gentrification and millennials seeking upscale vegan quesadillas, the ‘culture of the transistor’ is alive and well. Pirate radio stations broadcasting music and news in Haitian Creole have loyal followings, mostly of an older generation for whom radio was the primary medium during their youth. Listening brings back memories of a prosperous 1940s and 50s Haiti that recent narratives centered on catastrophe tend to bury. David Goren, who has not just written about but also mapped Brooklyn’s pirate stations, reminds us that these aural communities connect past and present, and perhaps future as well.

Guest Editor– Alejandra Bronfman

Click here for the full series!

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Station Logo Grid, Courtesy of Author

‘A lot of these stations, especially the Haitian stations, they have such an extensive music library that a song will come on the radio and all of a sudden my mom is like, ‘Oh my God! Your grandma used to have this record and she played it every Saturday!’ says Joan Martinez, a young Haitian-American born in the US and a former program host on some of the unlicensed Kreyol language stations. “Now she’s transported back to being on the island, with the big radio that’s a piece of furniture in the living room. People are chatting, little drinks are flowing about, my grandmother milling about in a gorgeous dress. It’s kind of like that whole nostalgia era that unfortunately was probably lost because of the political turmoil in Haiti. So it’s harkening back to a good time, to a simpler time, a better time, a more carefree era.”

Every day, the skies of New York City fill up with unseen clouds of radio signals spreading over immigrant neighborhoods. These culturally charged clouds of radio energy burst with a flow of content that continually shifts and transforms, following the lifecycle and rhythm of the streets.

From clandestine studios tucked behind store fronts, DJs transform time and physical space with Konpa, Reggae and Soca music, mixing the sounds of ancestral homes with the thump and challenge of adapting to a new life in the United States. Jolted by electrified fingers of Signal, the old radio poetry of hiss and hum leaps from a scattered forest of antennas connected to transmitters hidden away inside rooftop sheds. In Brooklyn, the signals alight on Flatbush Avenue, blasting from radios in dollar vans, bakeries, churches and on street corners and kitchen tables. By accessing an analog technology that (outside of the radio itself) is essentially free for the listener, economically marginalized communities avoid the subscription and data fees built in to the conveniences of the digital life. Listeners, often the elders of the community, extend metal antennas and position the radios just so, trying to catch the elusive vibrations of crucial music, news and information that are seldom felt in New York City’s legal and mostly corporate owned media soundscape. 

“These underground, unlicensed or pirate stations have been around for as long as there has been radio,” Martinez says. The legality of radio stations stems from The Communications Act of 1934, legislation that created the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), the agency tasked with penalizing unlicensed stations and shutting them down. “The focus really was on the listeners.” says Rosemary Harold, chief of FCC Enforcement ‘because what had happened before licensing became what we know as today, was that listeners weren’t able to consistently hear radio broadcasts. And now we’re kind of in a modern iteration of that.” 

Others, like pirate radio historian John Anderson, see the Act as unfairly slanted towards commercial interests, awarding “the highest powers and clearest channels” to stations that sold advertising, tilting the medium away from serving specific communities. “By privileging commercial speech over non-commercial speech and by basically saying if you are a special interest, we will not award you a license.” Anderson says. “You create the conditions for there to be dissension over the media policy, which will lead people into radical actions, like putting stations on the air without permission.” In Flatbush, stations broadcast primarily to Haitians, Jamaicans, Trinidadians, Grenadians and Orthodox Jews. The Haitian stations are particularly active in East Flatbush with just under a dozen broadcasting daily in Kreyol to the large Haitian community. 

Jacques Dessaline Boulevard sign, courtesy of author
Joan Martinez, courtesy of author

“I came across it at a very young age. There was this really popular station back in the late 80s, Radio Guinee, and it was based in Brooklyn.” Joan Martinez says. “Nobody knows where it was, there are suspicions. But all I know is from Friday night all the way to Sunday night, you would just hear a series of these stations every weekend and it would be the place where you could listen to the latest in Haitian pop music, rap music. It was also the news, my parents and their friends would all sit around the radio and they would just be politicking in the living room getting really loud, you know, dancing, singing along that sort of thing. It was just like a meeting ground and the radio was guiding it.” 

This phase of New York City pirate radio rose from the ashes of a previous scene dating to the late sixties: a dozen or so stations sporadically run mostly by white teenagers: a mix of hippies, radicals and electronically inclined misfits. By 1987, this loose collective of friends and rivals devolved into infighting after a short-lived attempt to broadcast from international waters off Jones Beach. This created room for new pirate radio voices from diverse communities that were increasingly being pushed off the legal airwaves by high costs, format consolidation, and  “the low power desert”, an FCC-led phaseout of small community broadcasters. The local pirates joined a growing national wave of progressive pirate radio activity taking  advantage of a new generation of cheap FM transmitters imported from China or homebrewed in makeshift workshops by free radio activists.

Radio La Voix Du Peuple Flyer,
Image by Author

By the early 90’s, immigrant community-focused broadcasters In New York City flipped the unspoken rules of the earlier pirates who broadcast mainly late at night on a few pre-determined “safe” frequencies, instead filling the FM dial from bottom to top, day and night. In 2000, under pressure from a nationwide increase in pirate radio activity, the FCC introduced a new license class: Low Power FM (LPFM) but opposition from National Public Radio and the National Association of Broadcasters shut down the issuing of new licenses. That severely limited LPFM’s availability in major urban markets due to rules requiring LPFM’s to be “three click aways” from existing stations. Local pirates felt they had no alternative but to continue broadcasting and some stations in Flatbush have been on the air for decades. Despite the passage of the Local Community Radio Act in 2011, opening a new licensing window with relaxed spacing requirements, few new frequencies were available in NYC due to an already crowded dial. The continued pirate presence is enabled by a sort of safety in numbers, an FCC enforcement team hampered by a low budget and a bureaucratic process of enforcement

Though the stations exist to serve their communities with news and culture and maybe make a little money for their owners and dj’s, they can and do cause interference for listeners of licensed stations, particularly low-powered non-commercial broadcasters like WFMU, a beloved freeform music station. Interference near their frequency has inspired the Brooklyn Pirate Watch Twitter group to keep a wary eye on pirate operations.

Storefont available, photo courtesy of author

Interference aside, FCC commissioners and staff publicly fume at the pirates for a range of potential public safety violations, some more theoretical than others and claim they are somehow harming their own communities, and wonder finally, why don’t they just stream on the internet. By viewing radio piracy purely from a legal perspective, critics miss the cultural and historic forces driving the Haitian pirates. During the Duvalier dictatorship (1957-1986) Haitians had access to only two stations broadcasting in Kreyol, rather than French, the language of the elite. One was Radio Lumiere, a religious station and the other Radio Haiti-Inter, a fiercely independent voice whose director Jean Dominque was assassinated in 1999.

The peasant in Haiti, while he’s working on his farm you know he had a transistor.” Says Dr. Jean Eddy St. Paul, Director of the Haitian Studies Institute at the City University of New York. ‘And many peasants, they don’t have money to buy tobacco to smoke, but they will have money to buy the battery to put in the transistor. The first generation of migration, in the US, was during the 1960s and for many of those people the culture of transistor was part of their everyday life, so they’re still maintaining the culture of transistor. For them, having a radio station is very important.’ 

In July 2019, on a side street in East Flatbush, I met a man calling himself “Joseph” aka “Haitian” (“because I’m a pure Haitian!”), part of a group that keeps Radio Comedy FM on the air. “There’s no owners and committee. It’s a bunch of young guys”. Joseph says, “We have to do something positive for our community. Right now the Marines are in Haiti and we don’t know what’s next! CNN don’t show you this! BBC don’t show you this! So what we do, we have people in Haiti that call us and tell us what’s going on and will send us pictures. This is how we get our information. And bring it to the people…. I have family over there, my mother’s still there. So I have to know what’s going on. 

At this point in the digital age, it’s an open question how long these analog pirate stations will remain relevant, as their audiences age, neighborhoods gentrify and younger listeners gravitate to social media platforms. The answer seems to lie with their elderly and impoverished listeners. They don’t have enough money to buy the newspapers understand?.” Joseph says.” For him that makes it worth it to keep Radio Comedy on the air despite a crackdown from the FCC backed by the PIRATE Act signed into law in 2020 that increases fines to $100,000 a day up to $2 million. But the legislation lacks funding to enforce the new regulations. With a federal statute still in place reducing fines down to the ability to pay, it’s unclear whether the PIRATE Act will be anything more than another in an escalating series of scare tactics

“If they don’t want us to do it just make it easy for us. Let’s make a meeting with those guys [the FCC],” Joseph says. ‘We’re going to provide the air for you. A frequency. You’re going to pay for example, $500 a month even $1,000 a month.’ We will be more than happy to do it. “

Pirate Radio Activity Chart, Courtesy of Author

Though the FCC has recently suggested the possibility of a new round of LPFM licenses in the future, the already crowded nature of NYC’s FM band makes it unlikely that new frequencies will be made available to the current pirate stations. In addition the FCC doesn’t want to be seen as rewarding illegal activity by granting a license to former pirate broadcasters, which was a prohibition in LPFM’s earlier licensing periods. And for the moment, Joseph, who’s been running unlicensed stations since 1991 (‘it’s an addiction’) is equally unlikely to cede the airwaves. He sees Radio Comedy as not just a radio station, but a community lifeline. 

 “You know many children we save? There was a bunch of guys…Jamaican, Trinidadian, Haitian trying to form a gang. We talked to them, bring them to the station. Most of them have a diploma now. Without the radio, most of them probably get locked up or dead.” 

Even with the PIRATE act on the books, the number of stations on the air in Brooklyn has remained steady with an average of about 25 per day and the advent of the Coronavirus pandemic has only sharpened their mission. In March 2020 as the spread of Covid-19 lead to NYC’s lockdown, the unlicensed Haitian broadcasters and the other West Indian stations in Brooklyn took a step closer to their listeners, increasing their air time and enhancing their formats to deliver information about the virus both in New York and in their countries of origin amid the heavy toll it took on the community.

Click here to hear Station IDs for Radio Lumiere, Radio Independans, and La Voix du Peuple!

Featured Image: Antenna in Flatbush, courtesy of David Goren

An award-winning radio producer, David Goren has created programming for the BBC, Jazz at Lincoln Center Radio, the Wall Street Journal Magazine, and NPR’s “Lost and Found Sound” series, as well as audio-based installations for Proteus Gowanus Radio Cona and the Ethnographic Terminalia Collective. In 2016, he was an artist-in residence at Wave Farm, a center for the transmission arts.

Since 2014, David has been recording New York City’s prodigious pirate radio activity and researching the evolution of this grassroots community radio movement resulting in the release of  “Outlaws of the Airwaves: The Rise of Pirate Radio Station WBAD” (2018) for KCRW’s “Lost Notes” podcast, New York City’s Pirates of the Air for the BBC World Service (2019) and the “Brooklyn Pirate Radio Sound Map 2.0” (2020)  which was featured in The New Yorker. He presented “Tracing Neighborhoods in the Sky,” as part of the Fall 2019 Franke Lectures at Yale University. In January 2021, the Brooklyn Pirate Radio Sound Map became a partner of the Library of Congress’ Radio Preservation Task Force.

tape reel

REWIND! . . .If you liked this post, you may also dig:

Archivism and Activism: Radio Haiti and the Accountability of Educational Institutions–Laura Wagner

Listen to yourself!: Spotify, Ancestry DNA, and the Fortunes of Race Science in the Twenty-First Century–Alexander Cowen

SO! Amplifies: Marginalized Sound—Radio for All–J Diaz

“Vous Ecoutez La Voix du Peuple”: The Kreyol Language Pirate Radio Stations of Flatbush, Brooklyn

Haitian Radio //
Radyo Ayisyen

Learning from other scholars’ work on Haitian radio was, and still is, one of the greatest pleasures in the process of writing Isles of Noise: Sonic Media in the Caribbean (UNC 2016). People living in or from Haiti widely acknowledged and almost took for granted radio’s outsized role in public and political life. Edwidge Danticat and Jonathan Demme also understood this and paid tribute in Claire of the Sea Light and The Agronomist respectively, but historians remained largely fixated, understandably, on pivotal moments in Haiti’s rich history. Radio is different. Not pivotal, but witnessing the pivotal. Less dramatic and more long lasting and adhering to the same format for days, years, decades. It speaks to people who wouldn’t read newspapers or books. It floods private and public space with the sounds of music, talking, ruling, dissenting, explaining, satirizing, creating, crying, testifying, lying. But it leaves few archival traces. This is why the work of the five scholars in this series is so important. They allow us to hear a little and honor the listeners who make the medium what it is.

To start the series, Ian Coss gave a finely tuned account of a “day in the life” of a radio station in Cap Haïtien that follows the programming rhythm of days and nights.  Then, Jennifer Garcon recounted one of the pivotal points in the relationship—its near breakdown and ultimate survival—also a turning point for a 19-year-old Jean Claude Duvalier, newly proclaimed President for life. Last week, Laura Wagner, who listened to each recording Radio Haïti-Inter and its archive (now at Duke University) and wrote its archival descriptors, writes of the work itself, the emotional, financial and intellectual challenges involved, and the reason this archive is essential to anyone interested in Haiti, or radio, or racial justice.

We continue the series in Brooklyn this week, where amidst gentrification and millennials seeking upscale vegan quesadillas, the ‘culture of the transistor’ is alive and well. Pirate radio stations broadcasting music and news in Haitian Creole have loyal followings, mostly of an older generation for whom radio was the primary medium during their youth. Listening brings back memories of a prosperous 1940s and 50s Haiti that recent narratives centered on catastrophe tend to bury. David Goren, who has not just written about but also mapped Brooklyn’s pirate stations, reminds us that these aural communities connect past and present, and perhaps future as well.

Guest Editor– Alejandra Bronfman

Click here for the full series!

—-

Station Logo Grid, Courtesy of Author

‘A lot of these stations, especially the Haitian stations, they have such an extensive music library that a song will come on the radio and all of a sudden my mom is like, ‘Oh my God! Your grandma used to have this record and she played it every Saturday!’ says Joan Martinez, a young Haitian-American born in the US and a former program host on some of the unlicensed Kreyol language stations. “Now she’s transported back to being on the island, with the big radio that’s a piece of furniture in the living room. People are chatting, little drinks are flowing about, my grandmother milling about in a gorgeous dress. It’s kind of like that whole nostalgia era that unfortunately was probably lost because of the political turmoil in Haiti. So it’s harkening back to a good time, to a simpler time, a better time, a more carefree era.”

Every day, the skies of New York City fill up with unseen clouds of radio signals spreading over immigrant neighborhoods. These culturally charged clouds of radio energy burst with a flow of content that continually shifts and transforms, following the lifecycle and rhythm of the streets.

From clandestine studios tucked behind store fronts, DJs transform time and physical space with Konpa, Reggae and Soca music, mixing the sounds of ancestral homes with the thump and challenge of adapting to a new life in the United States. Jolted by electrified fingers of Signal, the old radio poetry of hiss and hum leaps from a scattered forest of antennas connected to transmitters hidden away inside rooftop sheds. In Brooklyn, the signals alight on Flatbush Avenue, blasting from radios in dollar vans, bakeries, churches and on street corners and kitchen tables. By accessing an analog technology that (outside of the radio itself) is essentially free for the listener, economically marginalized communities avoid the subscription and data fees built in to the conveniences of the digital life. Listeners, often the elders of the community, extend metal antennas and position the radios just so, trying to catch the elusive vibrations of crucial music, news and information that are seldom felt in New York City’s legal and mostly corporate owned media soundscape. 

“These underground, unlicensed or pirate stations have been around for as long as there has been radio,” Martinez says. The legality of radio stations stems from The Communications Act of 1934, legislation that created the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), the agency tasked with penalizing unlicensed stations and shutting them down. “The focus really was on the listeners.” says Rosemary Harold, chief of FCC Enforcement ‘because what had happened before licensing became what we know as today, was that listeners weren’t able to consistently hear radio broadcasts. And now we’re kind of in a modern iteration of that.” 

Others, like pirate radio historian John Anderson, see the Act as unfairly slanted towards commercial interests, awarding “the highest powers and clearest channels” to stations that sold advertising, tilting the medium away from serving specific communities. “By privileging commercial speech over non-commercial speech and by basically saying if you are a special interest, we will not award you a license.” Anderson says. “You create the conditions for there to be dissension over the media policy, which will lead people into radical actions, like putting stations on the air without permission.” In Flatbush, stations broadcast primarily to Haitians, Jamaicans, Trinidadians, Grenadians and Orthodox Jews. The Haitian stations are particularly active in East Flatbush with just under a dozen broadcasting daily in Kreyol to the large Haitian community. 

Jacques Dessaline Boulevard sign, courtesy of author
Joan Martinez, courtesy of author

“I came across it at a very young age. There was this really popular station back in the late 80s, Radio Guinee, and it was based in Brooklyn.” Joan Martinez says. “Nobody knows where it was, there are suspicions. But all I know is from Friday night all the way to Sunday night, you would just hear a series of these stations every weekend and it would be the place where you could listen to the latest in Haitian pop music, rap music. It was also the news, my parents and their friends would all sit around the radio and they would just be politicking in the living room getting really loud, you know, dancing, singing along that sort of thing. It was just like a meeting ground and the radio was guiding it.” 

This phase of New York City pirate radio rose from the ashes of a previous scene dating to the late sixties: a dozen or so stations sporadically run mostly by white teenagers: a mix of hippies, radicals and electronically inclined misfits. By 1987, this loose collective of friends and rivals devolved into infighting after a short-lived attempt to broadcast from international waters off Jones Beach. This created room for new pirate radio voices from diverse communities that were increasingly being pushed off the legal airwaves by high costs, format consolidation, and  “the low power desert”, an FCC-led phaseout of small community broadcasters. The local pirates joined a growing national wave of progressive pirate radio activity taking  advantage of a new generation of cheap FM transmitters imported from China or homebrewed in makeshift workshops by free radio activists.

Radio La Voix Du Peuple Flyer,
Image by Author

By the early 90’s, immigrant community-focused broadcasters In New York City flipped the unspoken rules of the earlier pirates who broadcast mainly late at night on a few pre-determined “safe” frequencies, instead filling the FM dial from bottom to top, day and night. In 2000, under pressure from a nationwide increase in pirate radio activity, the FCC introduced a new license class: Low Power FM (LPFM) but opposition from National Public Radio and the National Association of Broadcasters shut down the issuing of new licenses. That severely limited LPFM’s availability in major urban markets due to rules requiring LPFM’s to be “three click aways” from existing stations. Local pirates felt they had no alternative but to continue broadcasting and some stations in Flatbush have been on the air for decades. Despite the passage of the Local Community Radio Act in 2011, opening a new licensing window with relaxed spacing requirements, few new frequencies were available in NYC due to an already crowded dial. The continued pirate presence is enabled by a sort of safety in numbers, an FCC enforcement team hampered by a low budget and a bureaucratic process of enforcement

Though the stations exist to serve their communities with news and culture and maybe make a little money for their owners and dj’s, they can and do cause interference for listeners of licensed stations, particularly low-powered non-commercial broadcasters like WFMU, a beloved freeform music station. Interference near their frequency has inspired the Brooklyn Pirate Watch Twitter group to keep a wary eye on pirate operations.

Storefont available, photo courtesy of author

Interference aside, FCC commissioners and staff publicly fume at the pirates for a range of potential public safety violations, some more theoretical than others and claim they are somehow harming their own communities, and wonder finally, why don’t they just stream on the internet. By viewing radio piracy purely from a legal perspective, critics miss the cultural and historic forces driving the Haitian pirates. During the Duvalier dictatorship (1957-1986) Haitians had access to only two stations broadcasting in Kreyol, rather than French, the language of the elite. One was Radio Lumiere, a religious station and the other Radio Haiti-Inter, a fiercely independent voice whose director Jean Dominque was assassinated in 1999.

The peasant in Haiti, while he’s working on his farm you know he had a transistor.” Says Dr. Jean Eddy St. Paul, Director of the Haitian Studies Institute at the City University of New York. ‘And many peasants, they don’t have money to buy tobacco to smoke, but they will have money to buy the battery to put in the transistor. The first generation of migration, in the US, was during the 1960s and for many of those people the culture of transistor was part of their everyday life, so they’re still maintaining the culture of transistor. For them, having a radio station is very important.’ 

In July 2019, on a side street in East Flatbush, I met a man calling himself “Joseph” aka “Haitian” (“because I’m a pure Haitian!”), part of a group that keeps Radio Comedy FM on the air. “There’s no owners and committee. It’s a bunch of young guys”. Joseph says, “We have to do something positive for our community. Right now the Marines are in Haiti and we don’t know what’s next! CNN don’t show you this! BBC don’t show you this! So what we do, we have people in Haiti that call us and tell us what’s going on and will send us pictures. This is how we get our information. And bring it to the people…. I have family over there, my mother’s still there. So I have to know what’s going on. 

At this point in the digital age, it’s an open question how long these analog pirate stations will remain relevant, as their audiences age, neighborhoods gentrify and younger listeners gravitate to social media platforms. The answer seems to lie with their elderly and impoverished listeners. They don’t have enough money to buy the newspapers understand?.” Joseph says.” For him that makes it worth it to keep Radio Comedy on the air despite a crackdown from the FCC backed by the PIRATE Act signed into law in 2020 that increases fines to $100,000 a day up to $2 million. But the legislation lacks funding to enforce the new regulations. With a federal statute still in place reducing fines down to the ability to pay, it’s unclear whether the PIRATE Act will be anything more than another in an escalating series of scare tactics

“If they don’t want us to do it just make it easy for us. Let’s make a meeting with those guys [the FCC],” Joseph says. ‘We’re going to provide the air for you. A frequency. You’re going to pay for example, $500 a month even $1,000 a month.’ We will be more than happy to do it. “

Pirate Radio Activity Chart, Courtesy of Author

Though the FCC has recently suggested the possibility of a new round of LPFM licenses in the future, the already crowded nature of NYC’s FM band makes it unlikely that new frequencies will be made available to the current pirate stations. In addition the FCC doesn’t want to be seen as rewarding illegal activity by granting a license to former pirate broadcasters, which was a prohibition in LPFM’s earlier licensing periods. And for the moment, Joseph, who’s been running unlicensed stations since 1991 (‘it’s an addiction’) is equally unlikely to cede the airwaves. He sees Radio Comedy as not just a radio station, but a community lifeline. 

 “You know many children we save? There was a bunch of guys…Jamaican, Trinidadian, Haitian trying to form a gang. We talked to them, bring them to the station. Most of them have a diploma now. Without the radio, most of them probably get locked up or dead.” 

Even with the PIRATE act on the books, the number of stations on the air in Brooklyn has remained steady with an average of about 25 per day and the advent of the Coronavirus pandemic has only sharpened their mission. In March 2020 as the spread of Covid-19 lead to NYC’s lockdown, the unlicensed Haitian broadcasters and the other West Indian stations in Brooklyn took a step closer to their listeners, increasing their air time and enhancing their formats to deliver information about the virus both in New York and in their countries of origin amid the heavy toll it took on the community.

Click here to hear Station IDs for Radio Lumiere, Radio Independans, and La Voix du Peuple!

Featured Image: Antenna in Flatbush, courtesy of David Goren

An award-winning radio producer, David Goren has created programming for the BBC, Jazz at Lincoln Center Radio, the Wall Street Journal Magazine, and NPR’s “Lost and Found Sound” series, as well as audio-based installations for Proteus Gowanus Radio Cona and the Ethnographic Terminalia Collective. In 2016, he was an artist-in residence at Wave Farm, a center for the transmission arts.

Since 2014, David has been recording New York City’s prodigious pirate radio activity and researching the evolution of this grassroots community radio movement resulting in the release of  “Outlaws of the Airwaves: The Rise of Pirate Radio Station WBAD” (2018) for KCRW’s “Lost Notes” podcast, New York City’s Pirates of the Air for the BBC World Service (2019) and the “Brooklyn Pirate Radio Sound Map 2.0” (2020)  which was featured in The New Yorker. He presented “Tracing Neighborhoods in the Sky,” as part of the Fall 2019 Franke Lectures at Yale University. In January 2021, the Brooklyn Pirate Radio Sound Map became a partner of the Library of Congress’ Radio Preservation Task Force.

tape reel

REWIND! . . .If you liked this post, you may also dig:

Archivism and Activism: Radio Haiti and the Accountability of Educational Institutions–Laura Wagner

Listen to yourself!: Spotify, Ancestry DNA, and the Fortunes of Race Science in the Twenty-First Century–Alexander Cowen

SO! Amplifies: Marginalized Sound—Radio for All–J Diaz

What Doesn’t the Algorithm See? With Rosa Menkman and Joanna Zylinska

“We need to focus on what remains unrendered, or unseen – what we are blind to.” – Rosa Menkman

On Friday evening, NCAD (National College of Art and Design, Dublin) and The Digital Hub hosted a webinar with Rosa Menkman and Joanna Zylinska. It was the fifth event in the Digital Cultures series, and my first time tuning in. I expected a straightforward panel discussion, but after the host, Rachel O’Dwyer introduced the two artists, we were shown two presentations first by Rosa and Joanna. Seeing them back-to-back provided a nice opportunity to notice similarities between their areas of expertise and differences in how they approach machine vision and algorithmic blindspots.

Rosa’s presentation “Destitute Vision” demonstrated her keenness to experiment with alternative forms of lecturing. In a mesmerising 15-minute work, she explores how artistic interventions can help us understand technologies of perception. In a calm voice-over, she proposes that data has the potential to be fluid, but it is the architecture through which it moves that distorts it and molds it into a singular form. Instead of asking what algorithms see, Rosa inquires what they render invisible.

I enjoyed learning about her “BLOB of Im/Possible Images” project, a playfully named 3D gallery that shows images chosen by a group of particle physicists, who visualised important concepts or phenomena that cannot (yet) be rendered. I can see how this type of speculative thinking opens up new possibilities for understanding each other across disciplines and types of expertise.

Still from Rosa Menkman’s “BLOD of Im/Possible Images,” found on newart.city (click on image to visit).

Joanna’s presentation explored her experience of using an Artbreeder GAN algorithm to render images of eyes and brains, which turned into an artwork titled “Neuromatic.” Her choice to focus on these body parts points to an interest in pinning down what exactly constitutes seeing. She explained that even though we know a lot about the human body and its complex processes, the phenomenon of seeing remains somewhat of a mystery.

In her research, Joanna considers what it means for humans to endow machines with the capacity of seeing, and inquires whether machines can see at all. Her approach proves the value of artists borrowing from other fields – in this case, from philosophy – to tackle a concept they deem interesting. Indeed, later in the discussion, Joanna talked about how her practice requires re-learning biology and philosophy and using their knowledges in a way that breaks rules and poses unconventional questions. These methods are usually inaccessible by scientists, who are more limited by funding requirements and goal-oriented methodologies.

What followed the presentations was a productive discussion about collaboration, modes of seeing, and the role visual arts play in rendering visible different technological and biological phenomena. I left the event feeling like I got to look at artistic research from a new angle, one that reveals their playfulness and lack of rigid expectations as assets and activators of interdisciplinary understanding.

Found on Wellcome Collection: Dissection of the skull, showing the eyes with attached nerves and muscles. Lithograph by G.H. Ford, 1864.

In the discussion, Rosa pointed out that scientists want to open up their knowledges to other experts and communities, and that artists are often a bridge between scientific fields and people who are unfamiliar with them. Similarly, Joanna noted that artists often deal with the same themes as engineers or scientists, but the endpoint of their projects tends to differ, and their scope can be broader.

On the topic of interdisciplinarity, Joanna pointed out that jumping between fields reveals similarities between them, but also shows their respective blindspots. She stressed that the aim shouldn’t be to create some sort of (unattainable) universal knowledge, but rather to notice each other’s limitations and find common ground, without flattening the differences that remain.

Still from Joanna Zylinska’s “Neuromatic.”

What started as a conversation about specific themes – machine vision, algorithmic limitations, collaboration – shifted to a meditation on why people desire to model and represent the world. Joanna asked if there is a single world out there to be represented, hinting at the intrinsic subjectivity of perception and sensations.

“Vision is just one of the senses, it is never just vision because it’s always already expanded, it’s environmental, it’s always been haptic. But the human has been constructed as a visual being. There is a history to vision and the human as a visual, visualising subject. We have to address that history.” – Joanna Zylinska

The discussion also carried climate urgency undertones, as the guests noted the importance of recognising non-human actants in the world in our explorations of modes of perception. Instead of seeking a “total vision” that encompasses different kinds of experiences, Joanna suggested that treating this concept as a speculative, artistic question allows for exploring the human desire to understand our limitations.

Kazimir Malevich’s “Black Square” painting: the experience of looking at “nothing”?

Joanna noted she could see a corporation exploiting an idea of “hyper vision.” Yes, I can imagine a neoliberal Tesla-esque project using computer vision to obtain the “perfect” way to see and analyse the world. Elon Musk would announce it at a self-serving event, claiming he is changing the world, only to grant access to this new “product” to a select few, dodging critique and refusing to consider why a “total vision” would be a good idea in the first place. In this ecocentric and capitalist mode of thinking, to see the world from every angle would mean to own it from every angle.

Trees have eyes in Rachel MacLean’s “Eyes to Me”

In the end, it boils down to agency. Knowing that current infrastructures of digital cultures are shaped by profit- and data-oriented corporations, we have to be vigilant when thinking about who acts as a user and who is being used. Both Joanna and Rosa discussed these power structures. They highlighted that algorithms – sometimes perceived as abstract and incorporeal – have very real socio-political consequences, often harming already marginalised groups when used in the hands of immigration enforcement or banks.

For me, the all-encompassing influence algorithms already have was the most important takeaway from this event. Artistic interventions can shed light on the shadowy inner workings of certain algorithms without vilifying them. But we have to acknowledge the limitations of our perception – literal and conceptual – before we engage with other modes of seeing.

Links for further research:

Watch the full event back on YouTube.

See other events in the Digital Cultures series here.

Read Rosa’s recent publication, Beyond Resolution.

Read Joanna’s recent publication, AI Art.

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Welcome to our Spring Newsletter!

We have exciting news about upcoming events, new publications, an interview with our developer Ross Higman and information on our open CFPs. Also, the latest set of MARC records containing all our new and past titles is now available here. There’s lots to explore below, so dive in to find out more about our plans for the months ahead...  

Announcements

  • Reader survey: help us make the case for OA books
  • Ask an OBP author
  • OABN: new recordings from Plan S workshops
  • COPIM: reports and a vacancy
  • OAPEN Toolkit: a resource for authors

Books, Readership and Content

  • New Open Access publications
  • New resources
  • Call for proposals
  • Events
  • New blog posts and videos
  • Latest reviews
  • Our library scheme


People

  • About us: An interview with Ross Higman
                                                                                                                                                     
OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Help Open Book Publishers make the case for open access books!
Please answer a few questions about how you use our books. This will only take a couple of minutes, and it will help us to demonstrate the importance of making books freely available. Please share the questionnaire with your networks too.  Complete the questionnaire to be entered into a prize draw to win a free book of your choice!


Link: https://www.smartsurvey.co.uk/s/SPJM8K/

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

If you want to find out more about what it’s like to publish with us, email Professor Caroline Warman (caroline.warman@Jesus.ox.ac.uk), author of The Atheist's Bible: Diderot's ‘Éléments de physiologie’ (2020) and translator of Denis Diderot 'Rameau's Nephew' – 'Le Neveu de Rameau': A Multi-Media Bilingual Edition (2nd ed., 2016) and Tolerance: The Beacon of the Enlightenment (2016).

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

​The Open Access Books Networks has recently released the VIDEO RECORDINGS and NOTES from their first three 'Voices from the OA Books Community' sessions. These recordings are available here, along with open notepads for more contributions -- add your thoughts! You can also find more information about these sessions here.
You can sign up for the next session on the links below:

Session 5: May 25th 2-4pm BST/3-5PM CEST: Rights retention and licensing (lead: Vanessa Proudman) (sign up here)

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Access the latest COPIM reports:

CEU Press announces first OA book funded entirely by our library membership programme by Tom Grady and Martin Paul Eve

Combinatorial Books - Gathering Flowers - Part III by Janneke Adema, Gary Hall, and Gabriela Méndez Cota.

Combinatorial Books - Gathering Flowers - Part II by by Janneke Adema, Gary Hall, and Gabriela Méndez Cota.


Combinatorial Books - Gathering Flowers - Part I by by Janneke Adema, Gary Hall, and Gabriela Méndez Cota.


WP5 Scoping Report: Building an Open Dissemination System by Graham Stone, Rupert Gatti, Vincent W.J. van Gerven Oei, Javier Arias, Tobias Steiner, and Eelco Ferwerda: Mapping the minimal metadata requirements for the interaction of open access (OA) presses with the scholarly communications supply chain.


OPEN POSITION

COPIM Research Associate in Archiving and Preserving Open Access Books @ Loughborough University
The Community-led Open Publication Infrastructures for Monographs (COPIM) project are seeking a Research Associate in Archiving and Preserving Open Access Books.

If you or anyone you know is interested in this position please, visit https://tinyurl.com/3je3c7z6

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

The Open Access Books Toolkit, hosted by OAPEN, aims to help book authors better understand their options in relation to open access book publishing, and to increase trust in open access books. You will  find relevant articles on all aspects of open access book publishing at different stages of the research lifecycle, along with an extensive FAQ section and a keyword search. Our Editor and Outreach Coordinator, Lucy Barnes, helped to create the Toolkit, so it comes highly recommended!

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
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OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
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OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
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OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
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OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
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OBP Spring Newsletter 2021
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OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Tracy T. Dooley, co-editor of Simplified Signs: A Manual Sign-Communications System for Special Populations, has made available a transcript of the Online Book Launch of Simplified Signs: A Manual Sign-Communication System for Special Populations here.

The editors have also released the official website for this book at http://www.simplifiedsigns.net to access tutorials designed to help people, especially parents and teachers, learn to use the signs.

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

​We have various Open Access series all of which are open for proposals, so feel free to get in touch if you or someone you know is interested in submitting a proposal!

Global Communications
Global Communications is a new book series that looks beyond national borders to examine current transformations in public communication, journalism and media. Special focus is given on regions other than Western Europe and North America, which have received the bulk of scholarly attention until now.

St Andrews Studies in French History and Culture
St Andrews Studies in French History and Culture, a successful series published by the Centre for French History and Culture at the University of St Andrews since 2010 and now in collaboration with Open Book Publishers, aims to enhance scholarly understanding of the historical culture of the French-speaking world. This series covers the full span of historical themes relating to France: from political history, through military/naval, diplomatic, religious, social, financial, cultural and intellectual history, art and architectural history, to literary culture.

Studies on Mathematics Education and Society
This book series publishes high-quality monographs, edited volumes, handbooks and formally innovative books which explore the relationships between mathematics education and society. The series advances scholarship in mathematics education by bringing multiple disciplinary perspectives to the study of contemporary predicaments of the cultural, social, political, economic and ethical contexts of mathematics education in a range of different contexts around the globe.

The Global Qur'an
The Global Qur’an is a new book series that looks at Muslim engagement with the Qur’an in a global perspective. Scholars interested in publishing work in this series and submitting their monographs and/or edited collections should contact the General Editor, Johanna Pink. If you wish to submit a contribution, please read and download the submission guidelines here.

The Medieval Text Consortium Series
The Series is created by an association of leading scholars aimed at making works of medieval philosophy available to a wider audience. The Series' goal is to publish peer-reviewed texts across all of Western thought between antiquity and modernity, both in their original languages and in English translation. Find out more here.

Applied Theatre Praxis
This series publishes works of practitioner-researchers who use their rehearsal rooms as "labs”; spaces in which theories are generated and experimented with before being implemented in vulnerable contexts. Find out more here.

Digital Humanities
Overseen by an international board of experts, our Digital Humanities Series: Knowledge, Thought and Practice is dedicated to the exploration of these changes by scholars across disciplines. Books in this Series present cutting-edge research that investigate the links between the digital and other disciplines paving the ways for further investigations and applications that take advantage of new digital media to present knowledge in new ways. Proposals in any area of the Digital Humanities are invited. We welcome proposals for new books in this series. Please do not hesitate to contact us (a.tosi@openbookpublishers.com) if you would like to discuss a publishing proposal and ways we might work together to best realise it.​

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Calling librarians and researchers !  Don't miss this online discussion about the creation and usage of #openaccess books with  @EIFLnet and @OpenBookPublish.

When: 20 May at 09:00 UTC

RSVP: http://bit.ly/EIFLOABDis

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Translating Les Philosophes: A Collaborative Challenge by Felicity Gush and Rosie Rigby

Earth Day and the Beauty We Love by Sam Mickey

In praise of conflict by Geoffrey Baker

Out now: "Rethinking Social Action Through Music” by Geoffrey Baker.

An Interview with Giulia Raboni, co-editor of What is Authorial Philology?  

Promotional Video for Arab Media Systems by Carola Richter and Claudia Kozman (eds)

An Interview with Jessica Goodman, editor of 'The Philosophes' by Charles Palissot

An Interview with the contributors of Introducing Vigilant Audiences by Daniel Trottier, Rashid Gabdulhakov and Qian Huang

OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Living Earth Community: Multiple Ways of Being and Knowing by Sam Mickey, Mary Evelyn Tucker, and John Grim (eds).

This book makes essential connections for understanding how humans may interact with all of life on Earth, especially in the face of rapid global climate change.

—  J. B. Richardson III, emeritus, University of Pittsburgh, CHOICE connect, April 2021 Vol. 58 No. 8



History of International Relations: A Non-European Perspective by Erik Ringmar.

The book is a rich mine of historical narratives that give an interesting, objective and enlightening account of crucial stages of the world history. Without its comprehensive study, one cannot better understand the complexity of today’s world. It is a must read for graduate students, faculty and researchers. The book is highly recommended for all those who are keen enough to have an access to the world history through objective lenses.

— B.M. Jain, Editor-in-Chief, Indian Journal of Asian Affairs, Vol. 33, June-Dec 2020.


B C, Before Computers: On Information Technology from Writing to the Age of Digital Data by Stephen Robertson.

This reviewer found the book an absorbing read… should … appeal to general readers interested in the modern information environment.

— R. Bharath, emeritus, Northern Michigan University, CHOICE connect, May 2021 Vol. 58 No. 9.


The Waning Sword: Conversion Imagery and Celestial Myth in 'Beowulf' by Edward Pettit.


This book’s strength is its wealth of [...] comparanda—interesting, worthy, often compelling analogues to the central monster-fight of Beowulf. They reveal the likelihood of an archaic mythic substrate embedded in the narrative tradition the poet inherited [...]. Pettit’s study is well worth the effort he has put into it, gathering in one place a compendium of the solar imagery that once appealed so strongly to the Beowulf poet [...].

— Craig R. Davis, Speculum 96/2 (April 2021), 545-47.


Annunciations: Sacred Music for the Twenty-First Century by George Corbett (ed.)

‘In this book we have a highly creative response [to (post-?) secular society], one which is not just a book, but a multimedia work […] It is the fruit of a remarkable, indeed unique collaboration between theologians and composers […] the resultant “alchemy” has produced some rather wonderful music as well as developing theological understanding, and raising sometimes awkward new questions. […] Annunciations makes a decisive shift from the now-common Historically Informed Performance model (i.e. how would Palestrina’s music have sounded in its historical context?) to Theologically Informed Programming and Performance: “to show how an appreciation of the theological engagement or profound spirituality of composers can influence their music’s performance and reception”’. — Dominic White, OP, New Blackfriars, (May 2021)


Sailing from Polis to Empire: Ships in the Eastern Mediterranean during the Hellenistic Period by Emmanuel Nantet (ed.)

This work is a worthy and innovative contribution to its field. The visual component is a valuable asset towards the understanding of the subject, and the inclusion of different themes, explored through varied approaches, allows for a greater understanding of the most recent work in nautical studies of the ancient Mediterranean, bringing important input into a subject that has been growing in visibility during the past few years, due to new technologies and the irreplaceable role of underwater archaeological surveys. The bibliographies of the different chapters provide a valuable collection of both early ship studies, updated and very recent publications, and ancient sources, in which researchers can find passages for further consideration. The illustration list, which includes ancient iconography, also contributes to this purpose. Even though the nature of the various chapters seems, at first, rather different, readers will soon realise that they are connected by the same approach and purpose, marking the work’s methodological position and serving as a practical guide to researchers who may wish to further their knowledge and future investigation into these matters. Its proposed timeframe, albeit focusing on the Hellenistic era, often ends up transposing towards the more remote period of the Homeric tales and occasionally extends into the Roman imperial period, especially as regards iconographic surveys, due to the scarcity of material. This allows the work to go beyond its initial scope and to consider matters such as technological capacities, shipbuilding techniques, harbour characteristics and mental and socio-economical influence of ship trade with a long-term view, another mark of its multidisciplinary approach.

— Daniela Dantas, Centre for History of the University of Lisbon, The Classical Review 71.1 190–193, 2021.


Making up Numbers: A History of Invention in Mathematics by Ekkehard Kopp.

This book examines the theoretical growth of mathematics from a historical perspective. Kopp (Univ. of Hull) offers a fascinating and enlightening presentation in which basic notions are evolved into advanced mathematical concepts. As shown here, abstraction becomes a natural result of mathematical development.

—  D. P. Turner, Faulkner University, CHOICE Connects, June 2021 Vol. 58 No. 10


Information and Empire: Mechanisms of Communication in Russia, 1600-1850 by Simon Franklin and Katherine Bowers (eds)

Wegen dieser guten Verfügbarkeit des Bandes, seiner klaren Struktur und der Bedeutung des Themas kann das Buch sowohl dem Spezialisten als auch für die universitäre Lehre empfohlen werden. Die kontroversen, aber auch komplementären Thesen im Buch werden zu fruchtbaren Diskussionen in Kursen und Seminaren anregen.

—Arkadi Miller, Jahrbücher für Geschichte Osteuropas in our review supplement jgo.e-reviews 9 (2019), no. 2


Earth 2020: An Insider’s Guide to a Rapidly Changing Planet by Philippe Tortell (ed.).

Conceived before Covid-19, 'Earth 2020: An Insider’s Guide to a Rapidly Changing Planet' is an attempt to review various environmental topics from climate change to biodiversity and pollution crises in a series of testimonies by "insiders,” specialists in their respective disciplines. It begins with a solid introduction by Philippe Tortell explaining his journey into the preparation of these essays. As he explains in the introduction the idea for this book came to him as a way "to focus public attention (if only for a short while) on topics of significant importance.”[5] Tortell explains the book as a way of assessing the human footprint on the "Earth system” since the first celebration of Earth Day in 1970.

— Loys Maingon, The Ormsby Review, April 17, 2021.


OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

The Open Book Publishers' Library Membership Programme supports our award-winning Open Access monograph publishing programme. By joining the Programme for an annual fee of £300/$500/€400, libraries and their users both support and benefit from OA publishing. We would be delighted to hear from libraries considering joining the Library Membership Programme or interested in further information. You can find the list of benefits here. We are delighted to offer a special 10% discount to members of SPARC and JISC Collections - just mention your membership when you contact us!
Free membership for libraries in economically developing countries: For institutions based in economically developing nations some fees may not apply. If you are a librarian at a university or library in such a country, and would be interested in receiving more information on how to become a member, please contact our Marketing and Library Relations Officer Laura Rodriguez at laura@openbookpublishers.com.


OBP Spring Newsletter 2021

Ross Higman is a software engineer working on the Open Dissemination System for the COPIM project. He has previously developed software for telecommunications networking and air pollution modelling, and worked as an editorial assistant. He holds an MPhil in Linguistics from the University of Cambridge.


Could you give us a glimpse of how you first became involved with open access?


I've been aware of open access for a while, as many of my friends are in academia or librarianship. Like many people, I became much more conscious of the issues that can arise from closed access publishing early in the coronavirus pandemic! Working at OBP has been my first direct involvement with open access, and it's exciting to work on at this time of growing interest and engagement from the scholarly community.


What drew you to work at OBP?


I've always sought out roles where I can use my skills to the benefit of society, and as a software developer with an earlier background in publishing admin, I found the opportunity to create open source software supporting smaller OA publishers very appealing.


Could you briefly describe what your role involves?


I work full-time on the COPIM project developing the web-based metadata management system Thoth. There are two of us on the development team, and between us we work on extending and improving all aspects of the software, from the publicly-visible web interface to the database that holds all the metadata under the covers. We're adding new functionality all the time, as well as learning what works best for the editorial staff who use it and adapting the system to their needs, and it's great to have that sense that we're constantly making progress.


What do you think is the most challenging aspect of your work? And the most exciting?


There's lots to learn, and it's constantly changing - which is both challenging and exciting. Thoth is written entirely in the programming language Rust, which I hadn't worked with before, and has some unusual features compared to languages I've used previously. Like Thoth itself, it's quite new, and still developing, but that allows it to learn from and improve on what's gone before! It's also the first time I've been involved in developing every level of a web application, which is a lot to master, but really satisfying when you see it all working together.

Body of Work

At this moment in time, as I write, I’m enrolled as a design student in the Royal Academy of Art, The Hague, in the Industrial Design Master. I currently generate no noteworthy income from my practice, but I do have hopes for a noteworthy professional future. This is what I assume my education will build up to.

I know however that I will be graduating in precarious times. This was obvious to me even before COVID punched a hole in the job market and into our collective wallets. It became apparent that the idea of work was changing comprehensively, with the labor market having become liberal and flexible, bringing new opportunities and with them also risks. We were seeing more types of jobs being created while salaries decreased, contracts were shortened and became flex, and a large degree of freedom was coupled with vanishing insurance policies and pension plans.

So, having said this and with my graduation peeking at the horizon, I rightly wondered what will become of me. This led me on a path to find the answer to the question ‘what do new types of work look like?’ And more specifically ‘who are the workers?’ 

Tell me about the world of work – The interviewees at large

My journey began by engaging in conversations with Geert Lovink, a media scientist who could fill me in on theories of new generations of workers; Alina Lupu, an artist who moves between the precariously employed field and the cultural field – which are at times one and the same; and the members of Cultural Workers Unite (CWU), a solidarity organization that promotes the rights of workers within the cultural field. I have chosen these interview partners because they work from different perspectives with (or within) the new conditions of work.

Figure 2: Lupu at a panel discussion CRITICAL STUDIES at the Sandberg Instituut Amsterdam, 2017

 

 

Illusions of work:

Alina Lupu between dreams & realities of work

Is there a difference between the creative worker and the precarious laborer? Some would argue there never was one, maybe just a difference in branding. 

In the winter of 2017, a little over half a year from having graduated with a degree in Fine Arts from a prestigious Dutch art academy, the Rietveld, in Amsterdam, Alina Lupu received an invitation to be a part of a panel discussion during an event at that very same academy. The invitation was meant to showcase the experience of recent graduates, their evolution since finishing art school, and their experience as students, looking back. That experience was very much fresh in her mind. But so was her new side-job.

That afternoon, honoring the panel discussion invitation, Lupu decided to show up, talk about her position and also wear her new food delivery courier uniform. She went to the stage, without introducing her condition at the time, wearing a jacket from the company Deliveroo and a small food delivery bag with the same branding. The company was, at the beginning of 2017, very fresh on the Dutch market, without any scandal associated with it, but still very visually present in the local landscape with couriers riding in the streets daily in striking bright blue-green athletic gear.

Lupu had taken the job after her realization that having a degree in art was not enough to make a living. She spent half a year applying for office jobs which never called back. She couldn’t yet apply for structural funding as an artist, since there was a period of one year between graduation and the time one could submit an application, so she chose the quickest route that would have her – a job in the platform economy. This was a job that could start almost immediately after being called for an interview, with a quick onboarding.

A job that would give her a uniform if only she said yes and showed her passport. She was game.

Figure 3 MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at PUBLIC ART AMSTERDAM, 2018

Judgments of work: Meeting expectations of yourself and others

To live was to make. But to live was not to make a living – Lupu said while she was still an ambitious art student. A belief she did share with her peers and teachers while being in the safe surrounding of the Academy. I myself am yet following a similar mindset while making use of my freedom to explore and expand my horizon, getting critical and aware about abstract issues of the world. But have I understood my own reality? With my graduation ahead I start to question if I have reached the level of control and knowledge to steer into my professional future. Lupu had done it, she was free again but in a way that she and her educational path had not foreseen for her.

Lupu could feel that exposing this new side-job in her former art academy might cause some friction, but didn’t quite realize the extent of outrage that would follow. Exposing herself as a minimum wage worker created tension. She felt judged by her choice of temporary employment.

She was supposed to have become an autonomous artist, and even if most autonomous artists make a living by other means, she was not supposed to glamorize, or even show, her precarious job.

These jobs tended to be kept in the dark as ‘shadow jobs’ as if they should not be seen in relation to the creative worker. The clash of the expectations of the creative class and the realities of the market shaped Lupu’s choices in the years that followed her graduation and that panel discussion in particular.

Figure 4: Lupu performing THE MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE in The Living Museum, Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam, 2017

Solidarity in work: A new type of workers who don’t recognize each other

That instance of exposing herself as a worker and being considered less deserving in the eyes of her peers and of the teachers that shaped her brought about the realization that there was a gap in perceiving solidarity among different categories of workers who are equally as exploited. Lupu would go on to make performances using the iconic looks of the food delivery couriers, but she would also join a union, continue doing the delivery work, and eventually join forces with the food delivery couriers in striking against Deliveroo and against exploitative conditions that the company would push on their workers.

Figure 5: MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at PUBLIC ART AMSTERDAM, 2018

Lupu rightly realized that “It doesn’t matter if I do creative work if I get paid as much as a cleaner – then I should be solidarity with that cleaner”. She saw herself aligned with the ones working in the same conditions, not only with the people in the same sector. And creatives were shown to have equally precarious contracts, if any, lack of security, lack of a pension plan or insurance.

In the same line of thinking, the CWU chimed in: “Maybe it is part of the problem that we consider ourselves “special” as this creates a “cognitive dissonance” in a lot of us, that would identify us as “artists” while we earn most of our money through side jobs or more “commercial parts” of our practice”. The Union, therefore, has tried to open the definition of the cultural workers they want to support. They include creators and curators as well as “cultural institution cleaners, administrators, security guards, horeca workers etc.” and “volunteers and interns who contribute unpaid and low paid labor to the sector.” This highlights a sensibility towards the various modes of work in culture and that they are reliant on each other.

Figure 6: MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at PUBLIC ART AMSTERDAM, 2018

Sharing of work: The autonomous workers collective – a paradox

Without a doubt, to be a food courier was not what Lupu had dreamed of when she started to study fine arts. It is no secret that the market in arts and design is by any means challenging and difficult which the individual maker mostly must face alone. However, it is this mindset that must be challenged Lovink points out. In his sight, one of the main issues is that single creators might fail thinking she/he is not ‘good enough’ to withstand the market’s pressure, whilst we are missing out on the community of those working in similar conditions: “It’s about new forms of cooperative work. […] But these discussions and debates have not yet reached the creative industries […], people need to understand that they actually have to act together.” This turns out to be the main challenge as the CWU claims:

Figure 7: MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at PUBLIC ART AMSTERDAM, 2018

“It’s difficult. Solidarity is a thing to be worked on, it isn’t the default position for most in a neoliberal society.”

Occupational prestige and desire for more personal freedom are the leading factors to the creation of the neoliberal condition and a singular mindset. However, the proposed independence that neoliberalism peddles is illusive.

“If freedom is to be taken as freedom from an employer, you are free to choose your own way of being exploited by the market.” Says the CWU “In effect, you’re not “free to” do whatever you want, as the economy has already pre-established paths for hyper-competitive and hyper-individualized entrepreneurial careers.”

The ‘free-thinking creative’ who needs to be set aside from the crowd seems to be outdated yet persists to be the role model in the sector of Arts and Design as experienced by Lupu and the members of the CWU.

“While we are encouraged to work collectively, collective work is continuously being devalued and is not taken as seriously as an ‘autonomous practice’. As if any practice can be ‘autonomous.”

Creative work as well as capitalist structures were and are still reliant on cooperation between different professions. It seems as if the truly independent worker in the creative industry is simply an unrealistic model of work. “Autonomous work does not exist” states the CWU, and there is no logical reason for a worker to pretend it does.

Figure 8: MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at PUBLIC ART AMSTERDAM, 2018

Communities in work: Recognizing and dealing with your working peers

Lupu’s working outfit which she eventually ended up calling “The Minimum Wage Dress Code” changed how she was perceived by other artists, but it also influenced how she was perceived in society at large. Her outfit allowed her access to certain spaces like restaurant kitchens while at the same time it gave her insight into how couriers are usually mistreated by other links in the delivery chain. Like an 18th century servant she had to be ‘hidden’ from customers, often left waiting outside in the cold.

“The irony is that you are treated like shit by the ones that earn as much per hour as you do.”

She lived through the same failures in perceiving solidarity from restaurant workers not just from the “creative class”. She witnessed how solidarity fails across the board as long as we judge and humiliate people just by their presumed link in a labor chain.

Maybe COVID was, in this sense, useful as it triggered the understanding of dissatisfaction and acknowledgment of insecurities in job and/or in life. One could be sure of a worldwide relatability and to a certain extend solidarity. “The idea that you can do it all on your own, especially if you have to work from home, no, that’s over.” Says Lovink. This unprecedented event has exposed the fragility of many, which is fertile ground on which unions like the CWU formed and gained more attention. Worldwide precarity almost enforced a large part of society to take jobs that are not unique to ones ‘main’ profession and it is yet uncertain if this affect will be reversed. This state is on its best way to become mainstream – and could this for once mean something for the greater good?

“Covid only exacerbates what was already there before the pandemic. Precarity was there, it just became visible” agrees the CWU. Like Lupu, they see the problems of precarity amplified throughout the crisis and aim for a solution of collectiveness. The membership number of unions has rapidly dropped in the last years. Lupu explains this with the popularity of flex and temp-work which has created more individual work, while communal or collective work, work that could be organized in the traditional sense, declined.

Figure 9 Lupu presenting the Online Campaign #RideWithUsPhilip, 2019; As Philip Padberg, CEO of Deliveroo Europe, suggested that riders should switch to a freelance contract, in her video, Lupu is asking Padberg to prove that what he was proposing (10 orders in 2 hours) was possible.

In the past Lupu, experienced the way in which classical unions had difficulties in reacting to new, flexible, platform-based working conditions. The FNV, The Federation of Dutch Trade Unions, initially had trouble adapting on how to tackle a company like Deliveroo: “They tried to support platform workers and strikes – with banners, tents with warm chocolate. But how do you strike against an online company? Do you go to the streets or block apps? Are you just not going to work?”.

The FNV has made strides in the past couple of years in tackling the food delivery giant, through a series of court trials questioning contractual agreements, which have been won. These were however symbolic victories since the gains rarely if ever got to reach the workers.

The case of Deliveroo has exposed how little protection one can expect as a precarious worker in an unregulated market

It has also rightly exposed similar precarious and unregulated tendencies within the creative field, which the work of Lupu highlights.

Chances of Work: Alliance between workers

Adding up these different perspectives gave me greater depth in understanding the problem as well as the strength of the new types of work at large.

Alina Lupu does perceive herself as an artist but aligns with workers which earn a minimum wage, who need to take precarious jobs out of pure necessity, and usually do not speak up against the unfairness, to not risk their only source of income. Lupu, as a progressive risk-taking artist, turned herself through her performance into a channel for her own, but also for their precarity. The dress became the medium for a collective message for anyone taking minimum paid jobs or participate in the economy in ways that are not unique to cultural work. It visually connected unrecognized labor with the profession of the artist created friction but moreover awareness and relatability of the working circumstances within the profession. She used the impact of the choice of clothing to challenge the publicly perceived identity of the wearer. Design-wise we can question if we could adapt this system for the new workers at large to shape and clarify their work identity. A visual (and wearable) statement could become a superficial work identity for the new working community, visible for oneself, the ones working in the same sector, and the public or client. From this perspective, a design like a work cloth presents the idea of a person, profession, and one’s community all connected in one design.

Figure 10: THE MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at the Launch of Simulacrum Magazine at Cinetol, Amsterdam, 2017

Figure 11: MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at PUBLIC ART AMSTERDAM, 2018, Participants eating the content of their delivery bags with visitors.

Similar to Lupu, the CWU tries to include and connect all workers and laborers that are involved in the production of arts, design and culture. They want to illustrate the necessary cooperation between cultural workers.

A common understanding of precarious conditions and shared knowledge are key elements to deal with precarity.

Collectivism needs to be included into the ‘look’ of the contemporary creative worker. In detail, change needs to happen on two levels: firstly, through recognition of a shared problem or support within a community, so that empathy can evolve between workers that deal with the same issues. COVID has highlighted these discussions on a global scale, it is up to us how we make use of them for our common future. Secondly, through a general understanding of the fact that current neoliberal socio-economic structures lead to precarity. If this will be achieved, new forms of cooperation could evolve. The equality of voices and easy access are important to create a collective body and to share knowledge. The new design of cooperative channels could be understood as resistant to the individualizing turn, placing emphasis on sociality rather than on the individual creator working to produce art or design.

Finally, the theorist Lovink presents the structural and organizational side which can facilitate and manage the space in which cooperation can happen in an effective way and can allow workers to distribute their ‘risks’ among several people. He promotes the idea of cooperatives as a solution to our current predicament. This way, a seemingly big problem becomes smaller through sharing. Thus, cooperation needs not only to be encouraged but also fairly valued financially and socially. Design wise we can discuss whether the co-opted skills are those of the contemporary creator or if creators engaged in collective structures have adapted to the new conditions of capitalism.

All three, Alina Lupu, the CWU and Geert Lovink, are proposing a new form of institution created by the ones suffering the most under the current models of work. This can make a shift from the drive for individual self-realization through work and towards more collective values that can uplift the currently precarious and atomized class.

I end this text not with a definitive conclusion, but with the prospect for a greater conversation on the art and design creator’s relation to work and to making their labor visible. What has become clear to me, and I hope to certain extend to the reader, is that art and design-making and work in the socio-economically context, are evolving simultaneously to an appearance in which we present our contemporary art and design practice.

Figure 12: MINIMUM WAGE DRESS CODE Performance at PUBLIC ART AMSTERDAM, 2018 

I want to thank everyone involved in my research including Geert Lovink for his generous sharing of time and knowledge, the CWU for their ambition and effort to combine their forces to answer my complex questions, and, naturally, Alina Lupu for being the steadfast and inspiring source which never forgot to feed me with sharp and on point answers and well-selected references and Instagram posts.

A theory on Digital Hygiene

…Cleanliness is godliness
And God is empty just like me.
Zero by The Smashing Pumpkins (1996)

Cleanliness is next to Godliness

Since the COVID-19 pandemic, our interaction with the digital has increased to never-before-seen heights. Along with it identity theft, hacks, the ‘misinfodemic’, data breaches, phishing, and other cyber risks all skyrocketed as result. Thus, improved or increased cybersecurity has become a necessity for all actors upon the digital networks. The tendency is to look to cybersecurity companies, studies, or governmental branches on (cyber) defense for these directives, whose deployment of military metaphors grant themselves a certain authority. However, another approach has emerged simultaneously within the field, one that leans towards principles of education and discipline. This approach has come to be known as ‘digital hygiene’. The rise of ‘digital hygiene’ to increase, secure and sanitize cyberspace corresponds with the ubiquity of the internet, its political-economic influence, and socio-cultural pervasiveness within everyday life.

Digital hygiene encourages individuals to perform routine-based digital practices in order to minimize cyber risks. In contrast to cyber security’s use of military or war-like metaphors, the narrative of digital hygiene returns to illness as metaphor, as introduced by Susan Sontag in a 1977 lecture, which provided the basis for her famous short book Illness as Metaphor (1978).

The use of metaphors to explain and guide concepts, in both everyday vernacular and authoritative rhetorics, has the tendency to instill morality that carries a disciplinary power. Back in 2014, the Institute of Network Culture’s (INC) Theory On Demand publication already provided insight into how we can consider at ‘digital hygiene’ as a metaphor. In a text titled Transcoding the Digital, the late Marianne van den Boomen unravels ‘digital praxis’, a coherent set of everyday practices that involve the manipulation, modification, and construction of digital-symbolical objects that “somehow matter socially”.

The relationship between the praxis and the objects is metaphorical. This theorizing of ‘digital hygiene’ borrows from Van den Boomen’s conceptual framework to unravel how the disciplinary praxis of ‘good’ digital citizenship and the relationship to its digital-symbolic objects through the metaphor of hygiene (and its history) is constructed in the first place. How does digital hygiene come into play in the cybersecurity discourse? Who is advocating for it? What is ‘good hygiene citizenship’ and how does ‘digital hygiene’ claim to provide it? This essentially outlines the current situation and provides insights into where ‘digital hygiene’ might be heading.

Prevention Over Defence

The digital has always been seen as a space where ‘battles’ are fought, albeit through viruses, heated debates, combats between hackers and the hegemony (think Mr. Robot), or other forms of cyber-attacks. The growth of the internet has been, and is, paralleled by the growth of cybersecurity. On one hand, the neoliberal foundation of the web paved the way for Silicon Valley’s capitalist tech ventures we see dominating the online platform economy and contemporary capitalism at large today. On the other hand, it created a landscape where information flows without restriction, and this circulation of information—including freedom of speech—is considered of utmost importance to be maintained at all cost.

These are two sides are of the same coin, but while the former required protection for political-economic ends, it is the latter, the more socio-cultural, which now seems to be running wild without restraint. It’s visible in the battle against piracy, the way platforms are currently (attempting to) combat fake news or harmful information through content moderation, and the oft used securing of terms within cybersecurity discourse that are military metaphors. Whether they are referring to the non-human technology or the humans behind cybersecurity, militant metaphors act as the authoritative agent between the cyber risks, the network, its users, and other stakeholders. While this form of agency carries a responsibility, it also generates dependency which centers power around these actors in cybersecurity.

Figure 1: Transcoding existing practices.

Military Metaphors Meet Medical Metaphors

These militant metaphors parallel the metaphorical world of medicine where cancer is battled, diseases are neutralized, infections infiltrate, and illness is defeated, or doctors fought until the bitter end. Wordings like this illustrate the ‘medicine is war’ metaphor whilst utilizing Sontag’s insights on illness as metaphor. In the aforementioned text, Sontag describes how military metaphors are abundant in discourses of plagues and how we respond to it through hygiene:

“[M]etaphors of illness are malign in a double way: they cast opprobrium on sick people and they hinder the rational and scientific apprehension that is needed to contain disease and provide care for people. To treat illness as a metaphor is to avoid or delay or even thwart the treatment of literal illness.”

The opprobrium cast upon sick people can act as a form of discipline. Metaphor also can obscure the nature of an illness. This act of applying existing concepts to the digital realm through metaphor is what van den Boomen calls transcoding. The familiarity of practicing good bodily hygiene makes it easier to understand similar practices in the frame of sanitizing digital environments of disease or viruses. The metaphor of ‘digital hygiene’ broadens the target audience and allows for more participants to enter the field. Routine practices ought not to be too technical since the more users there are practicing ‘good digital hygiene’, the better both personal and collective digital security will be. What follows is a list of actors and advocates who are attempting to educate user-consumers via utilization of the good-bad conflict:

Words such as safe, good, healthy, responsible and respectful recur in their pursuit to moralize digital hygiene. The suggested practices include regularly updating passwords, actively limiting one’s digital and social footprints, managing your mailbox, downloading software from legitimate sources, encrypting backups, and so on. Some encourage the use of technology such as 2FA, password managers, and firewalls.

Figure 2: 12 digital hygiene commandments by digitalhygiene.net.

Digital-Symbolic Objects

The use of software represents the materialization of the digital-symbolic objects and matter socially in the sense that they signify cleanliness or sterility. Other digital-symbolic objects such as VPNs also increase one’s cyber defense and provide personal control through privacy and anonymity, however, their prominence in suggestions is limited since the use of VPNs potentially circumvents personalized ads, thus opposing platform-economy logics. Normalizing practices, such as the ‘12 Commandments’ in Figure 2, discipline users to be(come) good digital citizens through an implicit message that it is their duty to keep digital spaces clean.

Good hygiene is made synonymous with good digital citizenship and thus not partaking in the practice becomes labeled as inherently ‘bad’. However, it requires a certain digital competence or accessibility to make use of these transcoded metaphors. This means that illiterate demographics, the elderly for instance—who already are frequent targets of personal hacks—or those whose budget does not allow for the use of smartphones, desktop computers, personal laptops, or access to these forms of information, are all excluded. Discriminating notions of classism lie behind the moralized and moralizing language.

Traditional actors of the field, like the gatekeeping cyber security companies, are also adapting to this new narrative. Not by modifying their products, but rather by introducing the same moralising language in their content marketing through blogs.

Through content such as the above, stalwarts of the cyber-safety industry have found creative ways to acknowledge the self-preserving acts of digital hygiene whilst their products implicitly tell their users that there is a socio-technical problem they have a responsibility towards but can’t fix on their own. Again, it is the consumer’s duty to undo the internet’s fundamental flaws and become a good digital citizen by investing in cybersecurity products: Consumerism is the available antiseptic towards attaining digital purity.

Just as philosopher Slavoj Žižek observed that Starbucks coffee ‘creates moral consumers’ by including an informal tax to aid some towns in a third world country somewhere, moral consumerism is also present in the commodification of digital hygiene through the subjectivization of good digital citizens. The use of purchased software symbolizes good digital citizenship. Similar to Mark Fisher’s comments on how the solution to treating mental health as a natural individualized pathology is sold back to the individual in a capitalist society, so, too, is the solution to the problem of digital hygiene. Atomised, and sold back to us, by cybersecurity software companies in the most surveillance-capitalist-way possible where user transparency is traded for increased privatized surveillance.

Beyond the Software

The commodification of the digital hygiene metaphor can also be found beyond cybersecurity software. Think about digital detoxes, another prime example of Fisher’s observation. Those who can afford it (another classism alert) take a break to purify themselves of the illnesses that come along with being online all the time: addiction, FOMO, stress, depression, instant gratification, and so on. Others who can’t afford to be offline just have to deal with this, I guess…

In contrast to the authoritative narrative of cybersecurity, the disciplinary power of hygiene metaphors can become malleable to fit other digital fields where it moralizes online users. For instance,

This form of power creates a certain type of individual. One producing new habits, movements, and skills by utilising and employing rules, surveillance, exams, and control.

These examples illustrate the spread of ‘digital hygiene’ as metaphor’s moralizing language, as well as how it is used without much regard towards its politics—Bergmann’s article is an exception—and its disciplinary nature. These metaphor’s use is little contested as various terminologies are used to signify good digital citizenship: digital literacy, media literacy, digital competence, digital detox, digital declutter, digital proficiency, digital hygiene, data hygiene or cyber hygiene, to provide a shortlist. While this essay focuses on hygiene, all metaphors generate a good-bad dichotomy that carries an embedded disciplinary power within them. This form of power creates a certain type of individual. One producing new habits, movements, and skills by utilizing and employing rules, surveillance, exams, and control. The aim is prevention, through moral education of digital hygiene, rather than protection.

Instead of serving as an authoritative intermediary, this discourse places its emphasis on the user and conceptualizes the problem as a personal responsibility to become a ‘good digital citizen’. By introducing a more soft-spoken, moralistic language, the effort becomes about minimizing cyber risks through the advocacy of self-preservation. Semantics such as ‘literacy’, ‘hygiene’, ‘good citizenship’, ‘commandments’, ‘abilities’, ‘skills’, ‘awareness’ and ‘practice’ all indicate the shift from the traditional authoritative military metaphor to the disciplinary narrative that also invites an education system into the realm of cybersecurity and the subjectivization of digital citizens. ‘Practicing good hygiene’ implies cleanliness, not only of your environment but also of one’s self. Cleanliness doesn’t start with washing your hands, but rather by knowing why and how to wash your hands. The education is here to help with that by singling out the individual. These notions of self-preservation and moralization coincide with a specific kind of ideology, with a political history.

I am the Hydra-headed beast
I am the worm you can never delete
I am the dangers that never sleeps
I am the virus
I am the virus
I am the Virus by Killing Joke (2015)

Washing the Hands of Hygiene

The ideology of wellness essentially presents its subject with a feeling of being fundamentally flawed and provides a solution that advocates the user to take matters into their own hands and to purify themselves. To not dwell further on the demoralized path of dirtiness, one needs to take certain measures, begin certain practices, and buy certain products. Since neoliberal capitalism sees personal responsibility as an important political and economic creed, it concurs with the ideology of wellness’s emphasis on the self. As seen earlier, the ideology of wellness is fundamental to the good-bad dichotomy of the moral consumerism advocated by cybersecurity companies.

Bergmann finds this ideology through the moralizing language in metabolic metaphors in digital data hygiene, but they are constitutional to hygiene as metaphor and the overarching illness as metaphor. She argues that the usage of disenchanting and shaming [language] is effectively counterproductive and hides the true problem: an industry built on neoliberal digital utopianism, surveillance, and data extraction—illustrating what Sontag prophetically observed in the late 70s: metaphors of illness tend to obscure the nature of the illness. Cybersecurity companies, institutions, and big tech, present digital hygiene as a self-preserving solution, but overlook their own role in, and contribution to, the problem. Similarities can be found with the impending ecological crisis, where polluting companies tend to discipline individuals to take responsibility, separate waste, recycle, upcycle, and be mindful about water and meat consumption, in order to minimize their contribution to climate change.

Social Projects Remain Social Projects

Tracing hygiene’s etymology illustrates the political history and relation to social reform and discipline. Rapid urbanization during the Progressive era ushered in the social hygiene (and purity) movement during the 19th century, which aimed to oust social immorality such as prostitution and the spread of STIs, subsequently bringing along gender inequality, racial marginalization, and hints of eugenics. Science and media techniques were utilized to advocate for self-discipline in order to put emphasis on the individual’s responsibility towards the public health problem. The movement itself later made its way into the education system. This is where institutionalization enters, and the initial relation between hygiene and literacy can be located. Standardization through the education system and social reform disciplined individuals to maintain cleanliness and stray from dirty immoral behavior. Along with public health officials, these regulatory apparatuses aimed to sterilize the spaces ‘diseased’ by urbanization—as a result neutralizing marginalized groups through civic standardization.

The use of hygiene as a metaphor extracted from illness as metaphor thus borrows and extrapolates from this disciplinary history of exclusion and moralization as well. The comparisons should not be hard to notice. Firstly, urbanization as the cause for the movement can be paralleled to digital urbanization: The shift from the early blogosphere and web 1.0 towards web 2.0 and the contemporary platformed internet. Today, we are taught that an innumerable amount of people use platforms without universal hygiene protocols. The subsequent increase in cyber risks ask for standardization through methods beyond cybersecurity: the current advocation and colloquially appropriate phrasing is made explicit on digitalhygiene.net’s homepage:

Digitalization or deployment of various digital solutions has become critical in our daily business and private lives. Our world has never been more technology-centric. Especially this year as more and more brick-and-mortar businesses and solutions have moved online. And the sheer volume of transactions taking place online is staggering. This digital acceleration hasn’t been without its risks.

Parallels between the social hygiene movement can also be found also in terms of the moral panics that come as a result of urbanization. Societal ills during the Progressive era required regulation, both by the public and institutions. Today we see something similar with the spread of misinformation, conspiracy culture, rising ethnonationalism, and polarisation, all taking place online. These immoral digital activities take place more on the fringes of the net where radical thought finds a safe haven, piracy takes place, and illegal goods can be marketed. Sanitisation, thus, is not confined to the urbanized platforms. A new infrastructure is currently being implemented, a digital sewage system to sanitize the streets of the platform economy whilst simultaneously neutralizing the polluted cesspool where immoral digital activity such as hacking, conspiracism, trolling, piracy, and radicalization, takes place (what about the dark web though?). The people who inhabit these contaminated spaces are sanitized and their acts are labeled poisonous through the use of moralizing language, disciplining digital users that such immoral acts belong in the gutter.

Naturally, digital urbanization also brings along digital gentrification. Similar to the social hygiene movement, digital hygiene is (on the cusp of being) institutionalized, but also melts into PR marketing tactics by neoliberal capitalism. It is a double-edged sword where standardization will make for control, also bringing along increased surveillance and traditional notions of exclusion.

“But industrial civilization is only possible when there’s no self-denial. Self-indulgence up to the very limits imposed by hygiene and economics. Otherwise the wheels stop turning.”
– A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (1932)

Together we Clean, Divided we Soil

Digital hygiene follows as a magnified version of Sontag’s illness as metaphor and discipline through moralizing language. While it is still in full development, perhaps arguably in its early-adopter stage, one can already see its pervasiveness. The adjacency of military and illness metaphors makes it easier to adopt and transcode digital hygiene into something that is understood by many and required for digital urbanization’s population increase. We could expect a more pronounced version in the near future, increasingly incorporated into formal education and endorsed by governments.

Following the political history and relationship between military metaphors in discourses of plague, it would seem that ‘hygiene’ suits the climate of cybersecurity better than ‘literacy’. Not only because illness as metaphor holds virality during the global pandemic, since it is used almost ubiquitously in the news about COVID-19, but also because the internet and cybersecurity are already littered with illness metaphors—memes go viral, computer viruses, the spread of misinformation, infected computers, 4chan as a cancerous cesspool of racism.

Just as Sontag foretold, through the individualizing hygiene metaphor and its accompanying software objects we’re encouraged to use, the true nature of the illness that is cyber risk is obscured. Platform capitalism shifts its responsibility onto us. Therefore, I propose a critical definition of digital hygiene as follows:

A socio-technical reform that disciplines digital user-consumers towards moral purity through routinely-based self-regulation and surveillance.

It is not us, the individual, who are the patients, but rather the networks serving capitalism. In this discourse, we’re carrying and spreading the disease of immoral digital activity and need to be neutralized—similar to the imposed disciplines of mask mandates, curfews, and other dreadful things we’ve encountered the past year. These measures carry an urgency to them, especially during rapid-changing times, whether that be the pandemic or an increasingly populated and congested digital space.

Figure 3: What we learn is what we know (source: Existential Comics).

It is not that discipline itself is inherently bad. With increased data breaches, hacks, phishing, and viruses that problematize internet usage, both individuals and the capitalist structures rely on it. However, this critical analysis and theorizing of digital hygiene illuminate the underlying disciplinary powers that accompany the digital hygiene discourse and construct individuals, modifying their behaviors and habits accordingly to serve the structures dependent on ‘good digital citizenship’. The advocates of digital hygiene, an assemblage of hegemonic platform capitalists, neoliberalism, and ‘traditional’ state apparatuses, educate users of these practices under the name of ‘Skills for the 21st  Century’ while simultaneously constructing a digital sewage infrastructure. We are continually reminded why it is there, what septic waste flows through it, and that a good digital citizen does not act like a pig and never dares to wallow in such dirt.

Special thanks to fellow INC colleague Jess Henderson for their help with this article.

The Digitarian Society @ Tetem op 25 mei

In de driedelige serie The Digitarian Society onderzoekt Tetem samen met mediakunstenaar Roos Groothuizen en gasten van het Institute of Network Cultures, Waag en PublicSpaces wat er nodig is om verder te komen in onze zoektocht naar een veiliger internet.

De bewustwording over internet dilemma’s in relatie tot online verslaving, privacy en verantwoordelijkheid groeit; niet alleen onder organisaties, in de media en bij de overheid, maar ook onder het ‘grote publiek’. We hebben allemaal wel eens gedacht om alternatieve apps, videoplatforms en social media te verkennen, maar we doen het niet massaal. Wat houdt ons tegen?

In de driedelige serie The Digitarian Society onderzoekt Tetem samen met mediakunstenaar Roos Groothuizen en gasten van het Institute of Network Cultures, Waag en PublicSpaces wat er nodig is om verder te komen in onze zoektocht naar een veiliger internet. We gaan op zoek naar concrete acties. Wat kun je als individu doen? Welke rol hebben publieke instellingen hierin? Hoe krijg je je publiek mee om een switch naar veiliger platforms te maken? En hoe kun je met deze acties andere mensen inspireren om een volgende stap te zetten?

Deze serie events gaat verder in op de dilemma’s van de escape room tentoonstelling ‘I want to delete it all, but not now’ die Roos Groothuizen voor Tetem heeft ontwikkeld. Daarin komt de vraag naar voren wat ons tegenhoudt om te stoppen met diensten van bijvoorbeeld Facebook en Google. Hoe worden we een digitariër, iemand die geen producten of diensten gebruikt van bedrijven die hun geld verdienen met het verkopen van persoonlijke data? Of is het mogelijk die moeilijke stap te verzachten door een flexidigitariër te worden, waar je zoveel mogelijke bewuste keuzes probeert te maken, maar nog geen afscheid wilt of kunt nemen van bijvoorbeeld Whatsapp? Het idee is dat we met kleine stappen onszelf en andere mensen en organisaties aansporen om bewuster te worden ten aanzien van de apps die we gebruiken en samen de stap naar een veiliger internet zetten. De drie events vinden plaats op verschillende platforms waarmee we als flexidigitariërs gaan experimenteren.

The Digitarian Society #1
Dinsdag 25 mei van 19.00-20.00
Met Roos Groothuizen,  Geert Lovink (mediatheoreticus, internetcriticus en oprichter van het Institute of Network Cultures) en Chloë Arkenbout (onderzoeker en editor bij Institute of Network Cultures)

De titel van de tentoonstelling ‘I want to delete it all, but now now’ van Roos Groothuizen komt uit het boek ‘Sad by Design’ door Geert Lovink. Het boek biedt een kritische analyse van de groeiende controverses op sociale media zoals nepnieuws, giftige virale memes en online verslaving. Tegelijkertijd roept Geert Lovink op tot het omhelzen van de digitale intimiteit van sociale media, berichtenverkeer en selfies, in de hoop dat verveling de eerste fase is van het overwinnen van ‘platformnihilisme’. Om daarna de afbraak van – verslaving aan – sociale media in te zetten.

Tijdens The Digitarian Society #1 ontdekken we wie de mensen achter het Institute of Network Cultures zijn en wat er bij hen persoonlijk is veranderd na het publiceren van het boek ‘Sad by Design’. Roos gaat met Geert Lovink in gesprek over de schaduwzijde van online platforms, menselijke verlangens die ons tegenhouden en hoe je als individu de theorie in praktijk kunt brengen. In een gesprek met Chloë Arkenbout wordt ingezoomd op Chloë’s onderzoek naar de macht van memes, media ethiek, morele verantwoordelijkheid, (digitaal) activisme, call out culture en de manieren waarop zij als nieuwe generatie onderzoekers met social media omgaat.

Doen, durven of je data?
Het publiek krijgt de kans om ‘Doen, durven of je data?’ binnen het thema van The Digitarian Society in te sturen. Uit de inzendingen wordt een selectie gemaakt die we gaan voorleggen aan de sprekers. Stuur jouw ‘Doen, durven of je data’ van max. 25 woorden uiterlijk 19 mei naar expo@tetem.nl. De sprekers krijgen een keuze tussen ‘Doen/Durven’ (een opdracht uitvoeren) of ‘Data’ (de waarheid over je digitale leven vertellen).

Voorbeeld van Doen/Durven (een opdracht uitvoeren):
• Stuur je moeder een appje dat je vanaf nu niet meer via Whatsapp wil communiceren
• Raad van een andere tafelgast welke social media zij het meest gebruiken

Voorbeeld van Data (de waarheid over je digitale leven vertellen):
• Wat is je grootste afknapper bij een platform?
• Heb je praktische maatregelen genomen om je social media gebruik te verminderen? Zo ja, wat?

Informatie over de events i.s.m. Waag (juni) en PublicSpaces (juli) wordt binnenkort bekend gemaakt.

Praktische informatie
Datum: Dinsdag 25 mei van 19.00-20.00

Prijs: Gratis

Sprekers: Roos Groothuizen, Geert Lovink (mediatheoreticus, internetcriticus en oprichter van het Institute of Network Cultures) en Chloë Arkenbout (onderzoeker en editor bij Institute of Network Cultures)

Online platform: ohyay

Inschrijven: Schrijf je in via de rode knop op deze website. Je ontvangt een paar dagen ervoor de link naar onze kamer op ohyay.

Voertaal: Nederlands