Nathan Jurgenson

Welcome to the “augmented revolution”

How the linkage of the online world to offline protest is remaking politics around the world

Inset: A protester chants during an Occupy Wall Street march in New York. (Credit: J. Henning Buchholz via Shutterstock/Reuters)

Earlier this year, there was a spat that was both silly and superficial over the terms “Twitter” and “Facebook Revolution” to capture protests in the Arab World. On the one hand, those terms offensively reduced a vast political movement to a social networking site. On the other, Malcolm Gladwell’s response — that there was protest before social media, therefore social media had no role — was equally unfulfilling.

Neither view captured the way technology has been utilized in this global wave of dissent. We are witnessing political mobilizations across much of the globe, including the Middle East, North Africa, Asia and South America. Riots and “flash mobs” are increasingly making the news. In the United States the emergence of the Occupy movement shows that technology and our global atmosphere of dissent is the effective merging of the on- and offline worlds. We cannot only focus on one and ignore the other.

It is no historical coincidence that the rise of social media will be forever linked with the global spread of mass mobilizations of people in physical space that we are witnessing right now. Social media is not some space separate from the offline, physical world. Instead, social media should be understood as the effective merging of the digital and physical, the on- and offline, atoms and bits. And the consequences of this are erupting around us.

Occupy Wall Street and the subsequent occupation movements around the United States and increasingly the globe might best be called an augmented revolution. By “augmented,” I am referring to a larger conceptual perspective that views our reality as the byproduct of the enmeshing of the on- and offline. This is opposed to the view that the digital and physical are separate spheres, what I have called “digital dualism.” Research has demonstrated that sites like Facebook have everything to do with the offline. Our offline lives drive whom we are Facebook-friends with and what we post about. And what happens on Facebook influences how we experience life when we are not logged in and staring at some glowing screen (e.g., we are being trained to experience the world always as a potential photo, tweet, status update). Facebook augments our offline lives rather than replaces them. And this is why research shows that Facebook users have more offline contacts, are more civically engaged, and so on.

Simply put, the terms “real” and “virtual” to describe the physical and digital worlds are inadequate: Facebook is real as the rest of the world grows increasingly virtual. It is this massive implosion of atoms and bits that has created an augmented reality where properties of digitality — information spreads faster, more voices become empowered, enhanced organization and consensus capabilities — intersect with the importance of occupying physical space with flesh-and-blood bodies.

As an augmented revolution, the occupation movement has from the very beginning utilized the Web while always focusing on the importance of (occupying) physical space.

Inspired by the Arab Spring, Adbusters initially established the Occupy Wall Street protests. Much of the early organization occurred online, especially as the Internet hacktivist group Anonymous joined in. Social media has been used to organize local occupations as well as spread news about the movement, sidestepping traditional media outlets that remained confused and largely ignored the movement. Once organized, occupy protesters are taking photos, tweeting and videoing police brutality (which, arguably, and perhaps ironically, has been a primary factor in getting the attention of traditional news media).

This is most certainly not an Internet Revolution.  Much more than a “digital” protest, the movement has been fundamentally concerned with taking over geographic space, mobilizing bodies in an area, yelling, walking, breathing, sleeping and doing what physical bodies do. There is clearly an embrace of low-tech at Occupy Wall Street, where retro and analogue technologies augment the high-tech at the park. And, of course, the Occupy movement is concerned with issues very real to our offline lives, such as economic inequalities, social injustices, global politics and so on.

The lesson that is playing out over and over is that utilizing both physicality and digitality and the important intersection of the two can effectively mobilize massive numbers of people. The tactic of  augmented revolution is becoming increasingly refined. Those organizing the Occupy protests learned from the Egyptian uprisings, which augmented utilizing both the physical and digital to more effectively create change. The U.K. riots and the subsequent cleanup effort did the same.

Why does the implosion of atoms and bits into an augmented reality help create the atmosphere of dissent we have today? Some of these reasons are well-known: People have access to more information; the Internet allows for ideas created by just about anyone to spread rapidly across the globe; people can more effectively network and organize; and so on.

Because of social media, protests today are far more participatory than ever before. In physical space, one’s potential audience is often small. The underlying threat for any protest movement is that ambition, motivation and a sense of hope that each individual is making a difference might fade. With social media, people can see the difference they are making. They are not just passively consuming dissent but are more actively involved with creating it.

So the Occupy movement was able to sidestep traditional media outlets to get attention and grow in numbers. The traditional news-gatekeepers were left scratching their heads. Today, the media produced from protests can be created by those protesting. Many of the well-connected protesters-turned-cyborgs can snap photos, shoot videos, organize on Facebook and tweet to the world. (Remember, smartphones have spread throughout income demographics in the United States as well as throughout the developing world.) This is participatory, prosumer dissent.

And what is often overlooked is how social media promises an audience for this content. This is an important change. No longer are protesters just shouting into the wind (made of atoms), one is also shouting into a network (made of bits) where there is an audience that may be receptive to your message. To illustrate this point that providing an audience also imparts motive to behave: Would we feel the necessity to take a picture of the breakfast we just made if Facebook could not guarantee that others might “like” and comment on that photo? As a protester simultaneously marching in physical space and documenting what you do online, you can watch the stream of activity by following hashtags on Twitter and see your tweet retweeted by someone else on the other end of the globe. You can post your photos to Facebook and watch the comments come in. Augmented by the Internet, what you are doing seems to matter more. This is the not-so-secret weapon of augmented revolution.

I think this is part of the story for why we are currently living in this flammable atmosphere of mobilization that is growing around the globe (as well as the counter-movement of digital repression). Protest and rioting are all more possible, perhaps likely, because social media has united the power of both physical space and networked digitality. Some have even argued that the organizational structures of the Occupy movement mimic the network logic of the Internet. Thanks to the effective merging of the on- and offline, massive gatherings of people attempting to change the order of the world around them is now the new normal.

Why Chomsky is wrong about Twitter

When the linguist claims that social media is "shallow," he isn't very deep or convincing

Noam Chomsky (Credit: iStockphoto/Reuters)

Noam Chomsky has been one of the most important critics of the way big media crowd out “everyday” voices in order to control knowledge and “manufacture consent.” So it is surprising that the MIT linguist dismisses much of our new digital communications produced from the bottom-up as “superficial, shallow, evanescent.” We have heard this critique of texting and tweeting from many others, such as Andrew Keen and Nicholas Carr. And these claims are important because they put Twitter and texting in a hierarchy of thought. Among other things, Chomsky and Co. are making assertions that one way of communicating, thinking and knowing is better than another.

Chomsky, of course, is a left-wing icon. As an accomplished linguist, prominent political activist and perhaps one of the most important public intellectuals of the last half-century, people pay attention to what he has to say, especially since he has been so pointed in critiquing mainstream media. But is Chomsky himself “crowding out” social media at the expense of voices that ought to be heard?

Back in March, Chomsky did an off-the-cuff interview with a D.C. “scene” blog where he spoke about many things, from familiar political and linguistic topics to the more earthy subjects of baseball cards, Bad Religion and WikiLeaks. It was his comments about new communication technologies — which he admits he doesn’t even use — that most caught my attention.

“Text messaging, Twitter, that sort of thing […] is extremely rapid, very shallow communication,” he said to interviewer Jeff Jetton. Chomsky said. “[I] think it erodes normal human relations. It makes them more superficial, shallow, evanescent.” Chomsky expanded on this point in another interview last December with Figure/Ground Communication, a site devoted to technology and society.

“Well, let’s take, say, Twitter,” he said. “It requires a very brief, concise form of thought and so on that tends toward superficiality and draws people away from real serious communication […] It is not a medium of a serious interchange.”

Maybe I should not read too much into these statements, but “off-the-cuff” remarks often reveal much more than we might assume. They illuminate Chomsky’s larger view of media and, most importantly, highlight the larger trend of established first-world intellectuals dismissing digital communications as less deep or worthwhile than the means of communication that they prefer.

Chomsky has a long (and, I think, mostly terrific) history of criticizing the shallowness of media. His 1997 essay, “What Makes the Mainstream Media Mainstream,” is a classic as is his seminal work “Manufacturing Consent.” His argument, which is anything but shallow, has been that the few control media content and seduce people into believing what they would not otherwise.

Today, of course, the top-down media Chomsky attacked is often said to be in “crisis” because of a new, more social and participatory media environment. Some tech-utopians say this trend has provided a voice to the masses and fueled social revolutions across the globe. Other tech-dystopians view social media as just another venture-capital funded way of exploiting people under the guise of empowerment. But in the world of Chomsky this important debate is instead undercut by the view that communication on digital media is inherently “shallow.”

To be fair, this is not Chomsky’s area of expertise and his is just one voice in a chorus of complaints about digital depthlessness — be it Keen’s “Cult of the Amateur,” Carr’s “The Shallows” or even in mainstream news commentary such as this New York Times panel discussion on digital books where panelist after panelist, including Carr, claim that the digital is shallow. And then there are all those we encounter in our everyday lives who dismiss tweeting and texting as trivial.

Claiming that certain styles of communicating and knowing are not serious and not worthy of extended attention is nothing new. It’s akin to those claims that graffiti isn’t art and rap isn’t music. The study of knowledge (aka epistemology) is filled with revealing works by people like Michel Foucault, Jean-François Lyotard or Patricia Hill Collins who show how ways of knowing get disqualified or subjugated as less true, deep or important.

And this is where it gets more interesting than Chomsky seems to realize.

Digital communications are produced more by some groups than others. Texting, tweeting and the like are not just the domain of wealthy kids and knowledge workers, as some assume. Research from the Pew Internet & American Life Project has demonstrated that nonwhites are much more likely to connect to the Web, communicate and create content on mobile phones than are whites. Globally, the same trend may be playing out. Research here and elsewhere indicates these so-called shallow ways of communicating are precisely the ways those in the Third World are connecting to and interacting on the Internet.

“In many cases, historically disadvantaged groups have used social media technology to find opportunities previously foreclosed to them. For these folks, social media is hardly trivial,” observes my fellow cyborg, P.J. Rey.

And this is to say nothing of the instrumental role social media has played in the Arab Spring  or the current #occupy protests spreading globally. As I’ve written elsewhere, new ways of communicating facilitated in part by smart phones and social media have given voice and audience to protestors. To some degree (and we can debate how large this is) social media has enabled a mass manufacturing of dissent.

Chomksy, of all people, ought to take note. When he defends his form of communicating (printed books and periodical essays) with claims that tweeting/texting lacks depth, he is implicitly suggesting that nonwhites and those in the Third World are inherently communicating less deeply than their white and first-world counterparts. He doesn’t seem to know enough about the reality of social media to examine his own assumptions.

In fact, in the debate about whether rapid and social media really are inherently less deep than other media, there are compelling arguments for and against. Yes, any individual tweet might be superficial, but a stream of tweets from a political confrontation like Tahrir Square, a war zone like Gaza or a list of carefully-selected thinkers makes for a collection of expression that is anything but shallow. Social media is like radio: It all depends on how you tune it.

But even if we grant Chomsky, Carr and the others that social media is less deep and more instantaneous, the important questions then become: Is instant, digital communication less true? Less worthy? Less valuable? Less linguistically creative? Less politically efficacious?

Chomsky, a politically progressive linguist, should know better than to dismiss new forms of language-production that he does not understand as “shallow.” This argument, whether voiced by him or others, risks reducing those who primarily communicate in this way as an “other,” one who is less fully human and capable. This was Foucault’s point: Any claim to knowledge is always a claim to power. We might ask Chomsky today, when digital communications are disqualified as less deep, who benefits?

 

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