Andrew Keen, a London native, is a British-American author and professor, whose Alma mater includes the University of London and UC Berkeley. He has written two books, The Cult of the Amateur, and Digital Vertigo — the latter being last night’s reading, and today’s blog topic. Keen’s ambivalence of the internet’s influence on society becomes apparent within the first few pages of the book. He’s launched a vendetta against “Web 3.0.” Within the introduction of Vertigo, we get a sense of what Keen’s going to talk about through his recollections of conversations between social media Magnates, an extended analysis of his encounter with the Auto-Icon of prison architect Jeremy Bentham, and his inner-conflict of posting a tweet. The haunting image he describes of Bentham sets the tone for what comes to follow, metaphorically associating the transparency of social media with that of Bentham’s corpse on display in the center of London. Through his examples, he attempts to flesh out the battle between social tyranny (as a result of the growing social media empire) and our own individual liberty. Can we exist outside of the social media context? Or must we sacrifice our privacy for the sake of remaining relevant?
Within his first chapter, “The Simple Idea of Architecture,” Keen again mentions the architect Bentham, and the way in which he was able to socially reform the architecture of buildings in such a way as to allow for the maximum amount of transparency possible. From this, Bentham created the concept of the Panopticon —
a circular building of small rooms, each transparent and fully connected, in which individuals could be watched over by an all-seeing inspector. this inspector is the utilitarian version of an omniscient god — always-on, all-knowing, with the serendipitious ability to look around corners and see through walls
Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr — these are our modern day Panopticons, at least that’s what Keen would have us believe. The difference is that we are both the architects, and the prisoners. Society itself is our overseer. Keen’s likeness of social media to a prison shows his clear dissent towards social transparency. We have built, and perpetuate our own prison; through tweets, status updates, check-ins at restaurants. We allow the rest of society to be our all-seeing inspector. But unlike that of Lessig, Keen questions whether this transparency can equate to social connection. Within the concept of the Panopticon, it doesn’t. As individuals, we are trapped within our prison cells, constantly watched, but always alone. This is social media — at least in Keen’s eyes.
It’s hard to come up with a definitive answer as to whether social media is bad or good. We can, though, recognize that social media has managed to niche itself into society. Maybe in moderation, it can be a good thing. We can stay in touch just enough to keep friendships alive from a distance, but hide away enough to keep ourselves sane. But what of the people who absolutely refuse to tweet? Are they the outcasts? Do they cease to exist? For all we know, they may be more living than the rest of us.
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