Monday, June 13, 2011

Subjectivity, techno-fetishism and the dangers of identification

"[W]ho will write the software that makes this contraption useful and productive? We will. In fact, we're already doing it, each of us, every day. When we post and then tag pictures on the community photo albums [...], we are teaching the Machine to give names to images. The thickening links between caption and picture form a neural net that can learn. Think of the 100 billion times per day humans click on a Web page as a way of teaching the Machine what we think is important. Each time we forge a link between words, we teach it an idea." – Kevin, We Are The Web

The shattering of previous web platforms in the early 2000s via "Web 2.0" integrated applets has been said to have ushered in a new era of human interaction. The speed through which information can be created, collated, distributed across the physical globe appears to close the spatial divide which separates users. This process is facilitated largely through the communication of online accounts on the various "social media" on the Internet—Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, Google, etc. It is claimed that this capacity for human communication is unprecedented. The type of romantic allusions from Kelly Kevin’s famous article We Are The Web are endemic within a movement which purports that the accelerated sharing of information is something fundamentally, humanly more than human. While the scale of information exchange is perhaps something which has no absolute equivalent in history, the process through which we engage with these medium in sharing this information—often personal, or personalized, information—is not something fundamentally different from the processes we engage in on a daily basis. Through Ryutaro Nakamura's 1998 series Serial Experiments: Lain (from hereon, the show will be referred to as Lain and the character as Lain), I hope to illustrate precisely how these new exchanges are not different from the ways through which we negotiate the exchange of our information, the conceptions which become recognized as "us," in our daily lives off the Internet and further that these cyberspace based interactions can play an illuminating role in aspects of human interaction.

Key to this idea is a reaction to the concept of the second self developed by theorists with regards to the impact of information technology on the human being. The second self is a concept of online personas being an augmentation to our physical, or "first," self. This phrase was first coined by Sherry Turkle in her 1984 book The Second Self. Researchers interested in this idea since have expanded this concept and made arguments for these second selves, and their fundamental basis being in the technology which allows their expression, being an expansion of the humanist project. Amber Case, a leading researcher in the field of "Cyborg Anthropology," has made such a case in her own research. She suggests that we are all cyborgs in the sense that our consciousness is augmented by the technologies that we interact with and that our second selves are "making us more human" (Case). She and others do caution that without proper education, these technologies and second selves can prove to be the source of anxiety and frustration among the younger generation. The problem is reduced to "not taking time for mental reflection" and thus "adequate time for the creation of self" which is described as elements such as "long-term planning" (Case).

The contention of this paper however is that our second selves are not usefully understood as positive extensions of ourselves and that they are not all that different from the selves which we construct everyday in our lives outside of the "psychological space"(Nusselder, 5) of cyberspace. Much of the discourse analyzed so far with respect to second selves is in fact inadequate in addressing the complex implications of Internet personas. The phenomenon is not merely tools in the humanist theoretical workbench; they are instead complicated mediations between ourselves with what we confront as being ourselves and this interaction with other such selves. Far more revealing and useful is the Lacanian mirror stage conception, in which the relation between the subject and images of himself can best be described in by this passage of Lacan:

The entire dialectic which I gave you as an example under the name of the mirror stage is based on the relation between, on the one hand, a certain level of tendencies which are experienced let us say, for the moment, at a certain point of life—as disconnected, discordant, in pieces—and there's always something of that that remains—and on the other hand, a unity with which it is merged and paired. It is in this that the subject knows himself for the first time as a unity, but as an alienated, virtual unity.(Lacan, 50, Book 2)

This paradigmatic framework is one which will guide us along an analysis of the nature of second selves. It should be cautioned that there is a multiplicity of these selves. There is not a unitary composition of the products of these various filters that, when aggregated, can be called a second self. It is a much more fragmentary conception—partial constructions of ourselves which are then in turn recognized by those around us as being us and return to us. This self whom/which we encounter is unitary only in a virtual sense. Through the mirror stage concept we're able to identify and analyze the salient features of the anxieties Lain experiences with respect to her encounters with such virtually unified entities. The mirror stage concept, however, only provides an illuminating role in helping us understand these encounters but does not completely explain them.

In order to understand how Lain contributes to our understanding of this relationship, it is necessary to first briefly outline the plot of Lain. It is difficult to provide a comprehensive summary of the myriad strands which run through the series so only those elements in the plot related to the main axis of this paper will be presented. The main character of the story is a young girl named Lain Iwakura and the series begins with the suicide of Chisa Yomada, one of Lain's classmates. Lain soon receives an email, which had been circulating around the school via the Wired network. The Wired is a rough equivalent to the Internet and is interfaced through degrees of integration via Navi computers. The email sent from Chisa implores the reader to commit suicide as well. The email is from Chisa and states "I have only given up my body" and she continues to live in the Wired having only abandoned her physical body.



This thread continues throughout the series with various tensions introduced in several subplots relating to the reality of the physical versus the apparently artificial Wired—most notably through the actions of Lain on the Wired and how they differ from the desires and actions of the Lain in the physical world. These tensions culminate in an explicit identity crisis on the part of Lain from which she decides to erase the memory of her from everyone in the world. An important overall theme of the series is the question of the merging of the physical world and the Wired world. This anxiety allows for various interactions to occur and possibilities explored that couldn’t happen if digital interaction was purely through an interface such as a computer. Instead, mediation can be illustrated as something larger than simply a screen.

As the series progressed, Lain's social relationships became strained as a multiplicity of online personas—all of whom resemble and are recognized as Lain (Lain is the only main character to appear in the Wired with a face but we will return to this later)—engage in activities which harm those around Lain. Early on in the series, episode 2, an online, Wired, persona of Lain makes an appearance in a nightclub. She is witnessed by a character who has taken an Accela, a pill sized machine which accelerates sensory perception, as if she is filtered by a screen. It appears that only the man on the Accela notices this detail. Lain's classmates, who are also present in the club, are shocked at the behavior of Lain. The Lain in the club appears to be very outgoing, she's wearing stylish club clothes—none of which characterize standard behavior for Lain. In fact, some of them cannot believe that it actually is her.

These classmates confront Lain the next day to confirm whether it was her or not. Lain goes with them to the same club that night and they are a little embarrassed because Lain is dressed in her school outfit. "I guess the girl we saw really wasn't Lain..." one of the classmates declares and Lain asks sardonically "Did she really look like me?" to which Lain receives an affirmative. Suddenly, gunshots break Lain's contemplative stance and the man who earlier in the episode had witnessed Lain while on Accela has just killed two people and is spouting seeming nonsense about only "[wanting] to clear [his] head" and then, upon recognizing her, begins accusing Lain of making him do what he has just done. At one point it seems that he is going to shoot Lain. Instead, Lain's demeanor suddenly changes and she tells him ominously "No matter where you go everyone's connected." Following which, the man shoots himself.

This scene is incredibly significant in that it sets in motion a theme which will reoccur throughout the series.



The anxieties expressed by Lain of the physical world with respect to the function of her online personas relate directly to her fear and confusion when these other forms of her begin to be recognized as being her. In this scene, Nakamura clearly displays these anxieties through Lain's pointed question about the club Lain's appearance and Lain's sardonic response to this other Lain's physical resemblance. Even more important is the way in which this scene resolves itself. Lain seems to transform before our eyes and becomes the Lain of the previous night, the Lain which was recognized physically as being Lain by her classmates and was recognized by the gunman as being the same person. This alternative persona of Lain, which did not appear chronologically before physical Lain



began using the Wired via her Navi to check Chisa's email, is in some sense a part of Lain and not some external entity. Here we can infer the creation of this alter-Lain as occurring with the connection of Lain into the Wired. What can we make about Lain's apparent transformation into what appears to be the Wired Lain of her own creation? We must remember the hints of anxiety sourced with the appearance of this new Lain.

This makes sense, as consciousness is "a matter of surface appearances" (Nusselder, 85). Successive self-images compiled into a virtual unity of the subject is how, as Lacan observed, the subject encounters their self. There is, however, a disconnect between the anxiety felt by Lain concerning their recognition of alter-Lain as being Lain and Lain's own recognition of alter-Lain as being herself—expressed most vividly in Lain’s taking on the characteristics of alter-Lain. In the former, Lain seems to be "[externalizing] the image that [she] has of [her] own being" (Nusselder, 85) while in the latter Lain appears to have accepted the virtual unity that the Wired Lain has contributed to an subsumed the identity as something that she could recognize as genuinely hers. This is a departure from the reaction the subject feels when confronted by their virtually unified self in that Lain actually takes on this representation as being her completely identified being. This doesn't last, however, as the show progressively builds this tension which culminates into the next scene wherein there is a confrontation between these imagined split Lains.



This confrontation reaches a climax in episode 8. Rumors are spreading across the school that Arisu, one of Lain's best friends, is having sexual fantasies about a teacher and Arisu has been told that Lain is spreading these rumors. She does not believe it because it would be uncharacteristic of Lain to behave in this way. It is significant that Arisu refuses to accept this reality because of her feeling like she knows (recognizes) Lain as being someone who would to behave this way. To Arisu, Lain is a shy, awkward and generally well mannered classmate. This changes when Arisu, in the height of a fantasy, finds that Lain is taunting her from within Arisu's room to which Arisu exclaims "It was you who told everyone! The rumors are true?!" From Arisu's perspective, Lain's derisive behavior in sharing these secret thoughts across the Wired is proof of Lain's complicity in this action.



However, this isn't so clear to Lain when she discovers that this has occurred. Lain goes into the Wired and confronts the version of herself which has been spreading the rumors about Arisu. Significantly, we cannot argue that this "Lain of the Wired" is simply a foreign, external entity which has no relation to the being it appears as. This is revealed when Lain observes that this Wired version of her is "being the things [she] hate[s] most about [herself]." When Lain attempts to strangle this other Lain, Wired Lain laughs and responds by saying "I'm committing suicide!"

In this scene Nakamura is illustrating the interconnected nature of these various representations of Lain—a theme hinted at in earlier scenes but here comes clear within this scene of frightening, frustrated terror. Lain is not simply the physical Lain whose image, solely, has been reproduced and spread throughout the Wired. Here again Lacanian frameworks are useful in understanding the dynamics of this scene. Lain recognizes herself within



the apparently physically external Wired Lain but not without the same disconnect expressed in the scene in episode 2. Lain recognizes herself and also expresses anxiety at the recognition of this Wired Lain as the actual Lain—which is an anxiety based on the actual externalized quality of the object being recognized as Lain: it appears to her as an object conceptually separate from her.[1] Again, in one sense she only "sees [her] form materialised, whole, the mirage of [herself], outside of [herself]"(Lacan, 140, Book 1). The surface appearances, the rumors spread by Wired Lain and her visual resemblance, composite to form a virtually unified image of Lain which is recognized by Lain's friends as in fact being Lain. It is important to note here that Lacan's mirror stage concept applies rather well. In this scene, Lain doesn't merge with the virtually unified image of herself but rather recognizes elements of herself within Wired Lain and recognizes the surface appearance, image, of this figure as being her but does not completely recognize herself within this image.

There is a fascinating moment in this scene where Lain, laying in bed apparently terrified by the damage being caused by the rumors spread about her friends by her, seems to be surrounded by the terrifying physical and psychological apparatus of the Wired. Electrical sparks discharge, wires flail out of control and there’s a shot of Lain and Lain’s shadow—throughout the show textured with a disturbing splatter of red blotches which flow through the shadow as if forming their own current—which grows. Lain is dressed in her bear shaped nightgown which she has worn many times at this point throughout the show, a symbol of her childlike demure which fails to defend her from the chaos around her.







This entire terrifying structure eventually fades away leaving Lain floating in a vast, silent void. This scene immediately reminds us of the claims of second selves, and accelerated information sharing in general, as function as augmentations which extend the human experience. Lain’s shadow grows, and this appears to be a correlation Nakamura is making with the increased prominence of Lain within the Wired, but this doesn’t represent a growth of Lain from her own perspective. Rather, it magnifies her isolation and results in her feeling completely isolated. Her quality as a person doesn’t feel extended, rather it feels alienated.

The penultimate anxiety of Lain's characterr is in the fact that everyone she knows and cares about—and indeed the whole world because through the Wired "Lain" becomes a household name—start to recognize this digital persona as actually being Lain. Lain asks in the final episode, if no one remembers her the real Lain—that is, if no one recognizes her and recalls her existence as Lain—then how can she say that she exists at all? Lain asserts that her entire existence is merely within the realm of those who have memory of her and this realization leads her to erase all memories of her and thereby, using the logic of the film, erasing her own existence. This initial realization occurs in a scene with Lain subsumed, presumably, completely within the Wired and having a dialogue with herself. This is a significant symbolic gesture, as one of the important themes of the entire show has been precisely Lain's relation with herself!

What can we make of Lain's apparent solution to her identity crisis? What is Nakamura trying to tell us about



the way out of the recognition/identification problems that Lain struggles with? By positioning Lain's "self" within the memories of others, this ignores the significance of Lain's own identification with the various virtual unities which she confronted and other recognized throughout the series. Lain encounters varied frustrations relating to her own ability to identify what was definitively her. She oscillates between recognizing, identifying these surface appearances as being her and a fear of falling into obscurity and disappearing when these appearances become recognized by others. The solution provided by Nakamura is unsatisfactory in addressing both elements of this crisis on the part of Lain.

Nakamura’s decision to portray Lain on the Wired as being something which can be recognized (as opposed to the anonymity of other characters) is a very interesting one. “[Japanese social networking sites] let members mask their identities, in distinct contrast to the real-name, oversharing hypothetical user on which Facebook’s business model is based” and this conflicted with the standard behavior of Japanese users which wherein “even popular bloggers, typically hide behind pseudonyms or nicknames” (Tabuchi, B1). Nakamura’s decision to remove this anonymity characteristic in Japanese society is one which we must take note of. Indeed, it is this very recognition as being Lain—although elements of Lain that Lain, recognized as elements of herself, would rather people not view—that seems to be the “avatar in a virtual world [which] may give a unified form to tendencies otherwise experienced as discordant and disturbing” (Nusselder, 91). This makes the literal confrontation between various entities appearing to us as Lain significant although this is not necessarily the only avenue through which virtual unities can be constructed as the discordant and disturbing fractures which we recognize as elements of ourselves can also come from “works of art, philosophy, handicrafts, consumer goods, instruments, machines, displays” (Nusselder, 85). The statement is made all the more powerful and convincing when the fractured elements are represented as physical appearances of Lain and all the more illustrative in the general relation of these themes to the role of social network media today.

The oscillatory process engaged by Lain is one which can shed light onto our own relations with each other and the particular role of the cybernetic psychological space. Just as we everyday negotiate our appearance through a filter of social influences, so too does the same process occur with Internet profiles. The pictures that are tagged on facebook, the ones which are untagged, the posts by friends in the "public" sphere of profiles that are deleted because they are inappropriate—all of these are part of the same negotiation process that we always go through. They are part of constructing this "self" that is recognized by others as being us and the construction of this self is a process that is not entirely, nor could it be entirely, deliberate or self-aware. These are also elements of the surface appearances so pivotal to constructing the conscious. They are part of the presentation of the "'outside' of ourselves, we make (up) our identity and become conscious of ourselves (self-conscious, self-confidence—or even self-assured)" (Nusselder, 85). Together they are the mirror stage from which a virtual unity is formed and we recognize as ourself.

Understood in this way the phenomenon of second selves through digital social media provides an opportunity to expose and further deeper processes of recognition fundamental to understanding social relations. They do not extend ourselves per se. Nor do they necessarily mediate ourselves between other people (in an extended fashion). These are both fundamental claims of the social network proponents. The developing of identity through the Internet and the various processes involved in this development are very familiar to how this development normally occurs. The Internet and the social media associated with it have certainly accelerated and amplified the way in which people interact with one another. The filters through which we sift that which gets recognized as us remain in place and are expanded through a digital avatar which is purported to be "us" and can be recognized as such—by others and by ourselves. Web 2.0, perhaps by its accelerated nature, provides an opportunity to dissect this process and through this we can reflect on how interaction functions. In this way, perhaps the proponents of these innovations in digital technology have a sound idea: the Internet is reshaping how people interact. Not through greater, qualitatively different mediations but through comparison by way of what could perhaps be described as the virtual virtual unity.


NOTES

1. And in a sense, physically as well since the physical and the Wired worlds have begun to merge by this point in the series.


WORKS CITED


Case, Amber (Actor). (2010). Amber Case: We are all cyborgs now [Web]. Available from http://www.ted.com/talks/amber_case_we_are_all_cyborgs_now.html

Kevin, Kelly. "We Are The Web." Wired, August 2005. Web. 2 Jun 2011. http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/13.08/tech.html?pg=5&topic=tech&topic_set=%3E

Lacan, Jacques. 1988a. The Seminar of Jacques Lacan, Book 2: The Ego in Freud's Theory and in the Technique of Psychoanalysis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Lacan, Jacques. 1988b. The Seminar of Jacques Lacan, Book 1: Freud's Papers on Technique. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Nusselder, A. (2009). Interface Fantasy: a Lacanian Cyborg Ontology. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Tabuchi, Hiroko. "Facebook Wins Relatively Few Friends in Japan." New York Times 10 Jan 2011: B1. Print.

Turkle, S. (1984). The second self: computers and the human spirit (chapter 4, adolescence and identity: finding yourself in the machine). New York: Simon and Schuster.

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