the SURVEILLANCE bros

Warning: the train of thought I'm about to go down doesn't have to do with the Panama Papers as much as with the Snowden Leak!!!

Right now a good friend of mine is writing his senior thesis on government surveillance and privacy vs. security. He explored the panopticon that is created through organizations like the NSA. A panopticon is only a concept, but an important one regardless. It's a theoretical prison in which the guard is in the middle, and all the prisoners are in rooms with windows facing the middle. The rooms and the prisoners are watched over all the time by the guards in the middle. This creates an environment where prisoners don't need to be disciplined or regulated, because the chance that they could be watched at any moment creates self regulation. They're always on their best behavior because they don't have a choice.

The concept of a panopticon created through the internet extends to other organizations beyond the government. A good example, actually, is the Panama Papers. They slipped up and raised red flags about the legitimacy of BLANK corporation, and got found out by investors and agencies that furthered the investigation. I don't think the panopticon is always a bad thing, depending on who is the guard in the middle and who is being watched.

I do think the panoptican changes publics drastically.

In the case of the Snowden Leaks, we see the NSA as the guard in the middle, and journalists/members of political activist groups as the prisoners. In poking around ICIJ, I found an article written by a journalist who discovered firsthand.“I don’t want the government to force me to act like a spy. I’m not a spy; I’m a journalist,” said Washington Post reporter Adam Goldman “What are we supposed to do? Use multiple burners? No email? Dead drops? I don’t want to do my job that way. You can’t be a journalist and do your job that way.” Essentially, news media who provide information to the public are being surveilled, and certain publics are also being tracked.

How does that change the way these publics communicate? Well, first and most obviously, they use more subversive, encrypted communication techniques. Beyond that, I'm not quite sure. I couldn't find any academic articles on the matter, but I'll keep poking around. I'd imagine it would make publics more extreme, and less trusting of each other.

The surveillance state we live in creates a norm of whistle blowing, as seen in the Panama Papers and the Snowden Leak. Habermas wrote that "when the exercise of political control is effectively subordinated to the democratic demand that information will be accessible to the public, does the political sphere win an influence over the government" (1). Maybe the public isn't demanding loud enough for information, because it kind of sucks that people who leak have to flee the country. How does the fact that we don't have an influence over the government change the purpose and internal functions of a public? Probably. Can we know exactly how it's changing, despite its newness? Probably not... yet. Dun dun dun.

just NOODLING THRU

Where do I even begin?

I guess with my moments of confusion.

I wish the author would have gone more in depth into the benefits of having "hidden" aspects to publics. I'm coming at this from a fairly ignorant point of view, but to me it makes more sense to be transparent. Transparency and candidness are appealing and persuasive. I understand that publics need a time to form outside the view of the wider public, but in the case of I Witness it seems to me that the public was fairly cohesive. They had been talking about the event with the police among themselves for several months and had told their stories in the book. I will never be able to fully understand why they didn't let the police really have it.

Okay... I can guess: the police would have responded with defensiveness, and the members of the community might not have been met with respect in the outside public. I think I forget that there were possible repercussions outside the realm of the community/police meeting area.

I guess what throws me off about "hidden" aspects to a public is that I don't know what they are and what purpose they serve. Do they bind a community tighter? Are they for the purpose of establishing the message they'll take to the broader public? If so, can it truly be called "hidden?"

I was talking to someone who does Sustained Dialogues at MSU (and I'm going to one now!) and they talked about how they discuss where every person is the group is 'coming from' and try to create a dialogue about issues at the school that are free of prejudice. Is that how we, as white people, should try to approach issues unique to African Americans? Through empathy? Should we then expect the same amount of empathy from them?

I don't think we should expect empathy, but I think that's probably how change will be made. When learning about Native American rhetoric last semester, we studied how the rhetors navigated the realm of requesting change while trying not to piss off the people they were asking to change. They had to concede a lot of their rhetorical power in the interest of keeping their audience (the majority) engaged. Of course, some chose a more direct route, but the rhetors who gained regard and respect were those who tried to relate their experiences to a white person's experiences.

It really sucks that in order to get systematic racism through our thick skulls, the minority needs to diminish their power. Are there alternatives? SOS

a REFLECTION

You can watch it here!

Pangea

By Me (Emily)

The bones in my head will stop moving by the time I’m twenty-five. Some days I can feel them getting tighter as I get further and further away from infancy. The plates encasing my brain shift as if tectonic. Call me Pangea.

In some ways I look forward to the click of my skull locking into place. Each time it slips, my body shakes and I have to duck under the nearest door frame or table. I try to be structurally sound but one time a boy broke my heart. It was a 6.1 on the Anterictor Scale and my foundations cracked just a little bit.  

I like diving into the trenches, though. If I hold my breath and close my eyes and jump, I can get to the bottom of my brain. I retreat deeper into the rivets or the crinkles, swimming from the left to the right and then back, my headlamp shaking frantically against the light gray-matter walls. Synapses could fire at any moment so I move quickly. I watch as thoughts and memories flit past me. They’re always in a rush. I can never stay for long because the pressure of skull on brain becomes unbearable.

At birth, the skull is made up of forty four separate elements, fissured and cracked. They start moving the moment the brain internalizes its first memory. Mine were set into motion at age three. I was playing pretend. Whole worlds are constructed when the brain can breathe.

When I turn twenty-five a heavy metaphor will fall on me and I’ll no longer be tectonic. That’s how life goes. But I’ll miss Pangea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The question I asked myself throughout the night was: what is the worth of a public of poetry? I asked a few people and they responded with “are you asking what is the value of art?” There was a note of incredulity.

No, I said. Art is invaluable, everyone knows that, I said.

In that moment I couldn’t quite express to them what I was trying to ask, but I think I can now. The public of poetry isn’t necessary persay. People could write poetry, keep it for themselves, and be fulfilled by it. That’s what I do. If they’re really talented, like Billy Collins, they could publish it in a book and create a public around said talent. But what was the purpose of me standing in front of an auditorium of strangers (all of whom were a public gathered around the famous poet) to read my poetry?

The night started off with determining the order of speakers. The organizers and founders of The Thunderhead Writers Collective introduced themselves and thanked us “deeply” for participating in this event. Their names are Molly and Kelsey. We sat back in the auditorium, and then we spoke. The audience clapped after everyone, and at the end Molly and Kelsey went onstage to thank the audience and the speakers again. Afterwards, the audience told the directors of the Thunderhead Writer’s Collective that they would have liked to hear more and thanked them for organizing the opening. This public is a very appreciative one.

The topics of poems and their speakers ranged in length, formality, age, and content. There were a few high schoolers who wrote about feeling like they don’t fit in. There was a man who wrote an elegy for his father. One shopkeeper wrote a humorous piece about a particularly unpleasant customer. One woman wrote about the evolution of herself, all the aspects of her being. There was a poem about the last moments of life in which the author’s mother reflected on the beautiful horses she saw outside her room. Mine was about growing up, I guess. I was trying to make sense of this nagging feeling that my personality becomes less changeable the older I get. I was trying to come to terms with that.

Rhetoric in Civil Life defines civic engagement as “engagement (that) occurs when human communication generates new areas for discussion, when people are willing to accept the risk of being wrong (and accept correction of their views), when people affirm a commitment to engage one another in discourse, and when creative forms of communication create social connections among individuals” (14). Rereading that first chapter helped to frame the public of poetry, from the speaker’s perspective, at least. All the poems were using language to ascribe meaning to things in our world. In the case of my poem, I used symbolic language. By bearing our personal feelings, we were forming connections to individuals who could empathize. Very likely, many individuals in the audience had experienced the pangs of not fitting in as a teenager, the loss of a loved one, or the process of growing up. These aren’t necessarily new areas for discussion, but they become so much more urgent and immediate when a speaker is onstage. I try to avoid thinking of my teenage years, but those girls onstage brought me back to that moment of my life and helped me appreciate how far I’ve come and how far they will come. We stood onstage and presented the “webs of significance” we ourselves “have spun” (19) in our lives.

I don’t think the concepts of narrative surrounding a public quite fit in with poetry. They need to be engaging. Well, I guess they don’t need to be but it’s certainly more fun to watch someone who is excited and engaged. Poet laureates, such as Billy Collins, help create public memory with their poems about public events. This event showcased poems about personal memory, which were interesting in themselves because my narrative isn’t the same as everyone else’s. Poetry can be vivacious, but it doesn’t always have a plot or character development or shape public memory. So why do people engage in poetry?

Billy Collins had an interesting answer in the Q & A session after his poems. He said that poetry spurns poetry. The more a person reads poetry, the more they want to contribute to the public. He said that different poets communicate with each other across time and space, paying homage to each other, addressing opinions, and (in Collins case) dissing each other. Within the sphere of poets, there is a definite public. Within the sphere of people watching/reading the poets, the only issue I can see that unites them is a love for the genre, or a love for a particular poet.

After seeing Billy Collins, I understood why a packed auditorium would spend money to come see him. A public can be formed around entertainment and admiration. Billy Collins fit the bill. He was outrageously witty. With one turn of a phrase, he turned a beautiful piece into something humorous and the audience burst out laughing in accord. My boss told me she has a crush on him.

When the other openers read their poems, the auditorium was two thirds empty. Most of the people in the audience were there because someone they knew or loved was going to share their poem. Billy Collins was there, which was pretty neat.

In this case, I don’t think the public was formed around poetry. I think it was formed around people, specifically those who were presenting, and especially Billy Collins himself.

the CLIMATE DUN B CHANGIN'

Adding a scientific theory to a public discourse contributes a whole new layer of complication to the agency of those receiving the message. Think Galileo-- he was ostracized for proving, and then advocating for, the fact that the Earth rotates around the sun. Eventually though, science prevailed and the world came around (in it’s opinion, not another orbit around the sun). Although it takes time, science can be supported and proven by other scientists, who then have an obligation to persuade the people through the spread of information. The challenge throughout history has been integrating science into the general public discourse by breaking it down into layman’s terms. Why then, despite the widely dispersed evidence that the Earth is going through climate change and the way humans are consuming resources is unsustainable, is it still rejected by large portions of the American population?

I don’t think I have the qualifications or scope to delve into why climate change became politicized in the first place. I will postulate though, that climate change advocates for a certain amount of change contrary to America’s capitalistic values, giving certain sects of the state a vested interest in its failure to disseminate throughout the population. According to Habermas, anything having to do with the state doesn’t fall under the realm of public discourse. In fact, Palczenwski says “ideally, discourse in the public sphere can critique and challenge state actions” (p. 240). However the discussion about climate change doesn’t fall under the traditional ‘public versus state.’ If the beliefs about climate change stem in part from the government, does that mean it falls outside the definition of “public discourse” that we’ve discussed in class?

Yes and no. Rhetoric in Civic Life defines a hybrid public as “publics that do not choose between civic identity and deliberative politics, but instead recognize that both can exist in a mutually reinforcing relationship” (p. 242). That definition doesn’t totally satisfy me, but I can’t think of the public discussion surrounding climate change as anything except a hybrid public, seeing as state policy is so intrinsic to the exchange. In “The Politicization of Climate Change and Polarization in the American Public’s Views of Global Warming,” researchers found a correlation between political party and beliefs about climate change. Their conclusion was something I think we’ve all realized: conservatives/Republicans are more sceptical of climate change than liberals/Democrats.

America’s beliefs on climate change became so polarized because of the “mutually reinforcing relationship” (to be fair, I don’t think I’m connoting what the author intended for that phrase, but it fits perfectly so I’m using it) that comes from strong political party affiliation. News sources such as FOX recruit rogue scientists to reaffirm their already existing belief that climate change is a hoax. “Conservative think tanks and their allied climate change contrarians successfully exploited American news media norms—especially the “balancing norm,” or the equation of “objectivity” with presenting “both sides of the story”—to achieve a level of media visibility incommensurate with the limited scientific credibility of their claims” (McCright). As talked about in Rhetoric of Civil Life, news and social media have made it easier to stay in a bubble of opinions they already agree with, making a positive feedback loop of ignorance.

The way the two public spheres imagine each other becomes so important in the discourse about climate change, as it does with most politicized issues. Asen says “participation in public discussions does not proceed only through voice and body; inclusions and exclusions also occur in the perceptions of others-- the imagining of others” (347). This imagination is important on every level--- the way climate change scientists and activists imagine the public as a whole, the way climate change sceptics imagine the proponents, and the way policy makers view the public.

The importance of both imagery and imagining is shown especially well in the use of rhetoric by Al Gore in An Inconvenient Truth. Although the Earth changes in increments, he showed the extremes that haven’t happened yet. At the end, he called on “powerful people and companies making enormous sums of money from activities they know full well will have to change dramatically to insure the planet’s liveability” to change their ways of life. For a piece of rhetoric that so dramatically changed the discussions surrounding climate change, I don’t think these tactics were well thought out. “The word image can therefore only indicate the relation of consciousness to the object; in other words, it means a certain manner in which the object makes its appearance to consciousness, or, if one prefers, a certain way in which consciousness presents an object to itself” (Asen, p. 348).  Because of their relationship with climate change, such extreme images are viewed as sensationalist by critics. The public tends to care about issues that are prevalent in their lives. Asen talked about the environmentalist counterpublic, and their misstep in making ‘nature’ seem removed from their audiences’ daily life, thus removing urgency. Al Gore’s extreme images might have the same effect. Also, by calling on “powerful people and companies,” who both generally tend to be conservative/Republican in their beliefs, he is further isolating critics. By calling those specific groups to action, he further removes urgency from the average person.

Climate change as a public discourse is an interesting phenomenon because it exists as both a weak and a strong public. It is a weak public in the sense that it’s a public “whose deliberative practice consists… in opinion formation…” (Palcezewski, p. 241). Opinion formation consists of infographics, documentaries, images of ice caps receding and animals covered in oil, and other tactics to raise awareness and mobilize the public. However, it does have an influence over decision making, as shown by President Obama’s proposed coal emission regulations. Not only does climate change hold sway over the state, it also affects industry. In response to the newfound LEED certification of buildings (which they didn’t pass), loggers started the SFI (Sustainable Forestry Initiative). It was essentially a different certification claiming to be equally as environmentally friendly as the LEED certification. Not only did such rhetoric manipulate consumers, it was also an attempt to sway policy change in their favor.

“Proponents of deliberative democracy argue that political legitimacy arises from processes of inclusive public debate” (Asen, p. 345). How can the debate around climate change become more inclusive? Is it inclusive already?

Feel free to disagree with me, but I don’t think climate change should be a debate in the first place. Whether it’s happening at the rate scientists claim, or even if it isn’t happening at all, the effects of our consumption is observable and largely negative. We have a responsibility as inhabitants of the Earth to protect it. There I go, joining the public discourse and preaching rather than being an objective essay-ist.

Works Cited

http://www.sfiprogram.org/

Fleming, Alysha and Vanclay, Frank, Challenging dominant discourses of climate change, Climactic Change, 127.3, p. 407-418, 16 October, 2014

Luke, T. W. "The Climate Change Imaginary." Current Sociology 63.2 (2014): 280-96. Web.

McCright, A. M. and Dunlap, R. E. (2011), THE POLITICIZATION OF CLIMATE CHANGE AND POLARIZATION IN THE AMERICAN PUBLIC'S VIEWS OF GLOBAL WARMING, 2001–2010. The Sociological Quarterly, 52: 155–194. doi: 10.1111/j.1533-8525.2011.01198.x

the RRROUGH DDDDRAFT

Adding a scientific theory to a public discourse contributes a whole new layer of complication to the agency of those receiving the message. Think Galileo-- he was ostracized for proving, and then advocating for, the fact that the Earth rotates around the sun. Eventually though, science prevailed and the world came around (in it’s opinion, not another orbit around the sun). Although it takes time, science can be supported and proven by other scientists, who then have an obligation to persuade the people through the spread of information. The challenge throughout history has been integrating science into the general public discourse by breaking it down into layman’s terms. Why then, despite the widely dispersed evidence that the Earth is going through climate change and the way humans are consuming resources is unsustainable, is climate change still rejected by large portions of the American population?

I don’t think I have the qualifications or scope to delve into why climate change became politicized in the first place. I will postulate though, that climate change advocates for a certain amount of change contrary to America’s capitalistic values, giving certain sects of the state a vested interest in its failure to disseminate throughout the population. According to Habermas, anything having to do with the state doesn’t fall under the realm of public discourse. In fact, Palczenwski says “ideally, discourse in the public sphere can critique and challenge state actions” (p. 240). However the discussion about climate change doesn’t fall under the traditional ‘public versus state.’ If the beliefs about climate change stem in part from the government, does that mean it falls outside the definition of “public discourse” that we’ve discussed in class?

Yes and no. Rhetoric in Civic Life defines a hybrid public as “publics that do not choose between civic identity and deliberative politics, but instead recognize that both can exist in a mutually reinforcing relationship” (p. 242). That definition doesn’t totally satisfy me, but I can’t think of the public discussion surrounding climate change as anything except a hybrid public, seeing as state policy is so intrinsic to the exchange. In “The Politicization of Climate Change and Polarization in the American Public’s Views of Global Warming,” researchers found a correlation between political party and beliefs about climate change. Their conclusion was something I think we’ve all realized: conservatives/Republicans are more sceptical of climate change than liberals/Democrats.

America’s beliefs on climate change became so polarized because of the “mutually reinforcing relationship” (to be fair, I don’t think I’m connoting what the author intended for that phrase, but it fits perfectly so I’m using it) that comes from strong political party affiliation. News sources such as FOX recruit rogue scientists to reaffirm their already existing belief that climate change is a hoax. “Conservative think tanks and their allied climate change contrarians successfully exploited American news media norms—especially the “balancing norm,” or the equation of “objectivity” with presenting “both sides of the story”—to achieve a level of media visibility incommensurate with the limited scientific credibility of their claims” (McCright). As talked about in Rhetoric of Civil Life, news and social media have made it easier to stay in a bubble of opinions they already agree with, making a positive feedback loop of ignorance.

Feel free to disagree with me, but I don’t think climate change should be a debate in the first place. Whether it’s happening at the rate scientists claim, or even if it isn’t happening at all, the effects of our consumption is observable and largely negative. We have a responsibility as inhabitants of the Earth to protect it. There I go, joining the public discourse and preaching rather than being an objective essay-ist.

I have a million and one trains of thought started on a Google Doc right now, and a ton of other quotes picked out, but I wasn’t able to make connections to my main point to my satisfaction. They’re half baked, and I’m hoping that with your feedback, I’ll get the inspiration to make them full-baked. I’m having trouble not being terribly biased in all this, and figuring out what I’m actually trying to say. Let me know if I’m on the right track!

the DEMANDS 4 INSTITUTIONAL CHANGE

Montana State University's Queer Straight Alliance has recently submitted some "Demands for Institutional Change" to their Facebook page and directly to President Waded Cruzado's email inbox.

The LBGTQIA community has grown in population (with more people coming out) and in vocal acceptance. Does that make it a public or a counter public? According to Fraser, "a counterpublic sphere is a public sphere, even if it is not perceived to be the public sphere" (p. 244). So I guess that question isn't very relevant here. I think the key word in that quote is perceived. As someone who considers herself a strong LBGTQIA ally, I have trouble thinking of the movement as a whole as a counter public still. Regardless, they still have a long way to go and smaller sects within the community are banding together and "enacting identities through new idioms and styles" ( p 242).

I'd say that QSA at MSU is still a counter public. They can imagine for themselves a better future at this school and are seeking institutional change to enact it.

"The achievement of this cultural form is to allow participants in its discourse to understand themselves as directly and actively belonging to a social entity that exists historically in secular time and has consciousness of itself" (Warner, p 75). In talking to members of QSA, I can sense their nervousness and excitement. I can sense most of all that these demands have brought them all closer while they're gaining more publicity and more and more people are ducking into their unique public, if only for a moment, to see what they're doing.

the INTERNET

As of late, my favorite question to politically active Facebook-using friends is: "Do you block people you don't agree with?" Sometimes I'll make that question more specific. For example, I've ask gay friends if they've blocked homophobes. I've asked friends who are advocates for racial equality whether they block racists. The answer is mostly yes. This is understandable and perfectly human. Why would a person want to be regularly exposed to opinions that undermine their identity? Especially if it's so easy to hide them!

My Facebook is one of the most hateful spaces I occupy. There are high school friends posting things like "Oh great, it's White Guilt Day again" on MLK Day this past Monday. There are Freshman year acquaintances posting about how "bitches would trade a genuine dude for all those fake ass douche bags any day of the week." I know, that statement isn't political, but it left an unpleasant taste in my mouth nonetheless. My favorite might be: "Straight Pride. It's natural, it's worked for thousands of years, and you can make babies" with a picture of a happy couple in front of a blue and pink striped background. I read those posts and want to shake these people and maybe yell, but as of now I've resisted the urge to block them.

In Chapter 9, Nancy Fraser touches on this phenomena: "Some analysts fear that the type of participation that occurs on the web will result in increasing fragmentation, as people are able to seek out only that information with which they most agree and to avoid any meaningful interactions with people who have different perspectives" (p.256). I think of the 'blockers' as enclaved and 'confrontational posters' as oscillating (p. 245). Maybe the 'blockers' need time to establish their identity and be surrounded by likeminded members of their counterpublic before being exposed to the oscillating posters. However, most controversial posts I see on my Facebook aren't challenged. They are even praised, making the posters feel like "the public" rather than "a public" (p. 247).

I would argue that selective participation extends further than the web, although it certainly manifests itself obviously there. Take FOX News and CNN for example. Each media targets a specific political view. Both sides of the political spectrum can watch newscasters that reinforce their opinions. All the newscasters are pissed off just like them! But does the media shape opinions or reinforce already existing ones?

I don't know, that's for sure.