Mine's Valencia, although Lo-Fi is gaining in popularity on my Instagram. Or maybe X-Pro II? So many choices, and I can control them all. Isn't that cool? I can dictate what my friends think my life is like by pressing a button. In a matter of lighting, my hastily-grabbed cup of coffee before work becomes a relaxing stop at the local cafe, and a quick literary caption paints the image of spending hours musing over the works of my favorite authors. In one tap, I've built an entire li(f)e for myself, and an outsider might never know the truth.
I have an image in my head when I read the title of Chapter 2 of Jill Walker Rettberg's Seeing Ourselves Through Technology that looks something like this:
(Photo found here)
Filtered Reality. It's reality, but something is a little bit off about it.
Rettberg raises a good point about filters-- they are generally used to remove what we don't want. On the most simplistic level, a coffee filter is used to keep the grainy, gross coffee grounds out of our morning (and afternoon and evening-- I don't discriminate) cups. Likewise, those handy Instagram filters lessen the features we'd like to hide. In popular culture, we don't just filter pictures, we filter our email, our social networks, and news sources. Filters have become so commonplace that in many instances we don't even realize that they are there.
We live in a highly filtered culture. Most news cites offer a feed of "Top Stories," comprised of the stories that are popular at the time, the most shared, most read, most commented on. The rest of the stories on the site are still there, but the algorithms of the site push them lower down the list in favor of the stories that have more views. If we're only seeing what is popular, are we only learning the popular opinion? How is our awareness being swayed by only being shown the news that is popular?
Rettberg offers Reddit's up/downvote system as an example of a filtered system, and I can add Facebook, Twitter, and, most recently, Instagram, to the list. I have friends on Facebook who I never see and, due to this, I forget we are friends, because my likes and Internet tendencies have made it so the Facebook algorithms pushes them to the lowest priority. It's not even an active choice on my part, the social network does it all for me. Are our machines controlling us? Perhaps our dystopian worlds are not far off? (mostly kidding)
In the midst of Chapter 2, I found a particular paragraph that spoke to me-- I found it both interesting, and frightening. Rettberg says:
We cannot represent our lives or our bodies without using or adapting, resisting and pushing against filters that are already embedded in our culture, whether those filters are cultural or technological. Cultural filters change over time and are different in different cultures. We can and often do resist or change cultural filters, but most of the time we simply act according to the logic of the filter without even realizing that is what we are doing. (24-25)The concept that we are so controlled is a scary one because it paints us as puppets, manipulated by "filters" well beyond our control. Going back to where I began, Rettberg comments that "One reason the filter fascinates us is that it gives the image that strangeness that defamiliarizes our lives. The filter makes it clear that the image is not entirely ours. The filtered image shows up ourselves, or our surroundings, with a machine's vision" (26). Following that thought, is my filtered cup of coffee trying to fool you into believing that my life is something other than it is? Or am I trying to fool myself. By looking at my life through the impartial camera lens, does it make it anything other than what it is?
Selfies can be raw and revealing. They can feel too authentic, too honest. Perhaps running them through a filter to boost the colours, overexpose the skin to hide its imperfections or give them a retro tinge is sometimes the only way we can bear to share these images of ourselves. (27)This reminds me, almost unbearably so, of Frankenstein, when the monster says to Victor, "You are my creator, but I am your master." Are we too to be so controlled by the lives we create and dream into existence? What is this filtered lifestyle doing to our realities and our perceptions of the world? A recent article also comes to mind in light of this filtered, #instagood world-- Australian Instagrammer Essena O'Neill decided to walk away from the filtered life and, before leaving, edited the captions to many of her photos, explaining the emptiness and fake reality of the world that once consumed her. What does this say about the world in which we live?
On the flip side of all of these concerns, there is beauty to be found in the filters, and this thought occurred to me upon reading about #365grateful. Rettberg points out that an artful photograph of dirty laundry might remind us that there is a family to make that pile (okay, I know several people who would argue that they are perfectly grateful for their families and don't need the pile of laundry to remind them, but you see my point). This thought also led me to think about the past, and question if this world is so different from that of the past. After all, the Romantic poets certainly saw their worlds through a filter (if you follow my meaning). and we hail their work to this day. Is it so different? Aren't we also using our own filters for the purpose of making beautiful?
Chapter 2 ended with an interesting discussion on the racial implications of photography and the selfie. I had never considered the misrepresentation angle of photography in my view of filters and selfies but, especially when coupled with the discussion of photography and the African American community, I found that it raised an interesting case against the fears expressed in the rest of the article: "Taking selfies can be a way of avoiding cultural and technological filters that you don't like or that don't represent you in a way that feels real to you" (30).
Moving on to Chapter 3, Serial Selfies, I found that the abstract presented an interesting case for observing the full story, not just individual posts or pictures, but all of them combined, in order to attempt to understand the entire picture-- the entire person behind the profile.
I think about this a lot. A lot goes into the way one presents oneself on social media, and I often wonder what my profile looks like to those friends who don't know me all that well. Most of my posts are directed toward the people who I know look at my profile-- a moderately sized circle of friends and acquaintances-- but every so often I get a notification from someone who I barely know and I realize, they can see everything I post too. My friends know who I am, but what do I look like to those who don't know me?
Rettberg's study of the daily selfie is an interesting one, because it raises an interesting question of observation. Why do we like to watch the time pass via one snapshot a day? What are we hoping to learn about ourselves that a compilation of pictures might reveal? And further, how do people's responses reflect on the content we are putting out there?
I've seen some of these videos, but I decided to watch Rebecca Brown's video, mainly because her 6.5 year commitment impressed me, and made me think that she had a story to share. And wow, did she ever.
Beckie Brown's video is a poignant tribute to her life story, and it is a story that could not possibly be grasped in pieces. Just like life goes on, as do the photos, through the good and the bad. Brown used her story to raise awareness of her struggles, and further, to help people know they're not alone. Between the years of 14 and 21 are some of the most important developmental landmarks in a life. We see one snapshot from every day in her life through it all.
Pictures serve as representations of who we are, which is why Rettberg moves to her next topic, profile pictures on social networking sites, and ties this into self representation. Why do we choose the things we choose to represent ourselves? If the only thing a stranger could observe about my Facebook is a profile picture of my dog, or if a potential friend is looking to add me and sees a poodle, what must they think? And why would I choose that image as my social network "first impression"? These are all questions I have considered over my own social profiles, as well as in observing others.
When we are able to dictate for ourselves what is put out there, it is interesting to see what we choose. Regardless of filters or "the chosen selfie," there is a mindset which goes beyond. Getting to the root of why we do what we do has only become more complicated by the digital age and our new selfie culture. I look forward to further discussion of this in class!