A similar discussion occurred in my Freshman composition class a few weeks ago. Several of my students, the supposed digital natives, commented that online or Facebook friendships were not "real" friendships. I was surprised by this because many of the students spend much of their time/lives in digital spaces. There lives are played out via Facebook status updates, Instagram pictures, and Vine comments, but they do not want to consider this space a real space. I asked them if they considered the people in the class "real" friends. Many of them remarked that they were classmates or associates, but not "real" friends. Why can't this be the same for online or Facebook friendships? I remember when the word associate was applied to a person with whom you were linked but not personally connected. Why doesn't this same language apply to online friendships. We seem to privilege the physical, ignoring the "real life" implications that online has in our lives. I wasn't aware of this binary. Now, I wonder of its implications. If things that take place online are an illusion, what about teachers who instruct very meaningful courses online? What about students who receive degrees from attending online classes? Thanks for the post. It really has me thinking of the ways I may be reinforcing this dichotomy between physical and online spaces.
I found this work to be so interesting. I really like the narrative analysis in conjunction with digital media and place. I am particularly interested in what the both of you mention as far as "desiring things like cities." I am not as familiar with NYC and SF, but I lived in DC for several years and LGBTQ centers like Dupont Circle have increasingly become too expensive to be the cultural centers they once were. Here porn sits at the intersection of digital and material cultures in such a relevant way. Thanks for sharing this research!
It is very interesting to consider the ways that these old forms of social mediation have been transformed for use in digital spaces. What stands out to me is the way that designers of these digital tools for mediation appear to have very consciously created platforms that have close ties in form and function to those old physical tools. So much so that you see discussions about them happening in reverse now. What comes to mind to me are the new esurance commercial that features an older woman posting pictures on her "wall" where that wall is a literal wall instead of her facebook page. Media has reached a point where the digital has become the norm and the metaphor is now being used in reverse. This appears to be a result of designers attempting to stick so closely to old physical concepts in describing new media. I see it as being helpful in getting people more comfortable in using digital tools but at this point is it possible that being tied to old physical constructs could be hindering the way these tools can be used going forward?
What an interesting post! I especially love your mention of the ads "perhaps even satiating the hunger for media." As a society, we're so tied to the media that many of us find it nearly impossible to not check our phones, even during times when we really shouldn't (driving home from work, for example). Our nightly commutes are a perfect time to highlight a cause, combining a public message with a private drive. This also gives us a break from traditional advertising we may see, and opens audiences up to more important things than a recent shoe sale or other Facebook-type ad littering our social media. I wonder if there is a space where people can go to figure out what the messages mean? For example, is there a link on the social media that explains each cause beyond the attention-grabbing light display? I think this is a great example of combining the digital and the analog, because these ads do make me want to learn more, and so I would be prompted to hunt for more information about the analog space through web searches in a digital space.
Hi Jamie and thanks so much for your comments. I think the questions you raise regarding methodology are key, especially as online environments can generate a lot of data - I mean the amount can literally be overwhelming -, for us social scientists to analyze. We then need to make hard and hopefully somewhat tactical choices in approaching this kind of cyber or online research. One specificity of social networks which I think has been perhaps not mobilized enough methodologically is the research opportunity created by their multimedia dimensions. My plan is therefore to deploy visual research methods, photo-elicitation, etc.. in order to get at some of the meaning-making embedded or crystallized around the images that Guineans post and circulate online. For me these are key to the emergence of new visual cultures, as well as their participation in what I call the politics of (in)visibility i.e. what they decide to show, how they go about presenting themselves online. But clearly, there are many other aspects of social networks including sounds, videos or linguistic dimensions that also require scholarly attention. And yes, you are right to point out that I am approaching this from an inter-disciplinary perspective. I am based in the Childhood Studies dept. at Rutgers-Camden, so focus on children and youth from multiple perspectives is key to what we - and therefore I - do!
FTR, here are some of the works that we are synthesizing in these two postings: John Champagne, in a variety of places, on the relationship between pornography and nonproductive expenditure; the archaeology of gay, urban, post-60s California represented by the reissue of Patrick Cowley’s porn soundtracks by Dark Entries Records as School Daze (2013); Dan Harris, in *The Rise and Fall of Gay Culture,* on the invention of “hotness” with gay videoporn; James Franco’s recent revisitation of Cruising; Laura Kipnis, in *Bound and Gagged,* on reader self-portraits submitted to porn magazines; Susana Paasonen’s book *Carnal Resonance: Affect and Online Pornography;* Dougal Philips’s ahead-of-its-time essay on pornographic exchange in the era of the Internet and "the death of the sun;" and, Saskia Sassen’s writings on "wired and networked" cities.
I think that you post gets to one of the things that I keep reminding myself of as my research into digital culture continues and that is that there are digital cultures, not culture. For instance, in western cultures we see a diminished use of Facebook by youth and young adults in favor of smaller social media networks. However, this is not true anywhere and considering the cultural context is key. I also like the metaphor of the amalgamation as the the binding that makes up any urban area, for which youth social media use is one bond in a network of bonds and structures.
As you look at this research question from what seems to be an interdisciplinary and multi-factor approach, I actually wonder about what methods you are using to discern meaning making within the process. By which I mean, if everything means something as far as constructing Guinean urban space, where do we begin to pull apart the strings and analyze to find meaning? I would love to hear more about this research in the future!
I love your perspective of online idea sharing as the norm, rather than something immediately viewed as plagiarism. I honestly don't think I've ever interpreted something I shared online as plagiarizing, and I think many students only give credit if they "took" the idea from someone they know personally (or, more likely, someone that they know will see what they "copied"). The line certainly blurs between the validation of the idea and the stealing of the idea, as most online profiles are made up of non-original ideas that somehow still convey an "original self." This becomes the norm because, as you say, why would anyone think the content we include is our own? Also, posting things without giving credit to the original author can sometimes be used as a way to see who else is "in"-for instance, someone recognizing movie quotes/song lyrics/the original story modified in fan fiction/etc., without attribution, shows that the poster and the reader have similar interests, and creates online community building. On the other hand, though the online community is still participatory, collaborative, and at times one big "mashup," we do live in a world where many young people are obsessed with online fame. I have seen a larger insurgence of people demanding credit for their YouTube videos, their short stories, etc., which suggests that maybe the "insistence on receiving credit" no longer violates the norm as much as the insistence on giving credit. Thanks for this post, and it will be interesting to see how this topic evolves.
I agree that we need to find ways to instill "confidence and integrity," as commenter Jamie Henthorn puts it, rather than explore technology's ability to surveil students. My college has had a student-initiated Honor Code since the early 1950s that places most of the responsibility for ethical behavior on the students themselves. Tests are not proctored, and if an instructor discovers suspected cheating he/she does not confront the student but reports him/her to the Honor Board, a student-run panel that includes faculty. Like many schools with such a code, Knox is proud of the opportunity it offers students to claim ownership of their academic integrity.
Of course, the execution of the Code is fraught with pitfalls. The penalties can be severe, the President can override Board decisions, and the overall tone of the system continues to be legalistic rather than educational. However, these problems are being addressed. For myself, as a writing tutor and instructor here over the past twenty years and as a member of the Honor Code review committee, I focus on the pedagogy of integrity. When working with other instructors' students as a tutor, I see every suspected act of plagiarism as an opportunity to teach; as an instructor, I make it clear that I employ no policing methods—aside from my own ability as a reader to "hear" the telltale signs of plagiarism (not a precision instrument, but I've been working on it for thirty years now)—but we frequently discuss plagiarism, the challenges it presents in a digital age, and the kinds of things we can do together through in- and out-of-class assignments to continue to learn how academic integrity can be strengthened. I have long relieved myself of the (for me) oily role of word-cop—I find no pleasure in finding plagiarism, just a kind of sad anger—and instead recognize that academic integrity, like writing itself, is a process learned incrementally. We must give students opportunities to fail without penalty (the foundation for most scientific research, and a necessary component of all empirical and critical analysis).
As to generational shifts in the perception of what constitutes intellectual property theft, on the whole my students believe two things: (1) It's their right to own/use/enjoy everything ever published, composed, and designed—and all for free; and (2) claiming ownership of it without attribution in their academic prose is cheating. They see the line, and are more worried about their inability to chart that academic undiscovered country (should I cite that phrase?) than they are eager to "own" another scholar's work as they would a song, movie, or image.
I think that the most interesting thing to come out of this conversation is that in many ways the digital age has made us more aware of plagiarism. As a teacher and digital media scholar, this is wonderful to hear.
Your discussion of the shift in professor as surveillance is one that I also find troubling. I think we have all joked that it would be great to have a piece of software that assigned grades to papers, but in reality that's not how I feel. I enjoy learning about my student's research and discussing how they can develop it. An increase in students means a decrease in the amount of time I can spend with each one. The idea that I must be more efficient at grading writing/research, which will always be messy business, means that plagiarism and misuse of sources becomes much easier to monitor than writing or content. You have given me a lot to think about here.