Along for the Ride

I read a blog recently that reminded of the main reason I think hypermediacy, or Freekyfro’s “web–induced ADD,” is a dangerous thing. At a time when we have a chance to become more aware of ourselves due to the incredible rate of growth in almost every area of learning and knowledge, we are also becoming more and more distracted from recognizing who we are due to a “network that has become the object rather than any real source fixed in space” (Freekyfro). In a frantic effort to erase any semblance of immediacy, hypermediacy demands “look at me.” Or, I suppose I should say “look at my disunity.” In its attempt to devour unity, it is the consummate snake eating its own tail, unaware it seems, that if it were to ever succeed in its efforts it would not only destroy unity, but also itself.

If the circle ever closed, it would lose its nature as a circle and become a dot, which I find ironic, because that would mean hypermediacy’s success would depend upon the creation of a unified field of vision. But at the same time, I see hypermediacy as not much different from any of the ways we have employed in the past to distract ourselves from ourselves... we’re just using digital technology to help us along in that process at a pace that at times seems to border on hysteria. Through the use of digital technology the dissemination of knowledge is growing exponentially while our ability to put that knowledge to good use is decreasing exponentially. We seem to be simply spellbound by it all, and unable to make a collective move toward conscious use of technological media, and our toys, that seem to be doing everything faster and better, also seem to be contributing to unconscious robotic behavior. And maybe that’s our future.

Maybe because we have grown exponentially as a species, hypermediacy is simply a reflection of what we are becoming. As time quick–marches into the future, at ever–increasing speed, we are beginning to look a lot like ants or bees, and questions concerning who we are as individuals are losing their value and meaning. This is perhaps the most dangerous result of hypermediacy. After all, in the end, we’re facing the same reality, and although a sense of contributing to the collective greater good is very important, this “sense” can only be achieved through an individual’s own growth in consciousness.

But then there is the thought that a person can be incredibly creative using hypermediacy in an inspired way. Artists will obviously end up using digital technology in the most thoughtful ways, the ways that have always had the most profound effect on us, although a scientist might argue that point. And who can really say, maybe the dot would be a better form than the circle because it would compress all views into one. But would that really be all that good? And around, and around, and around I go. In the end, all I can say for sure is that Bolter and Grusin’s Remediation is quite a circus ride.

“…visual media…are constantly remediating one another and therefore reminding us of the futility of believing that any technology of representation can fully erase itself” (Bolter & Grusin Remediation 83).

Transparent Immediacy -- Impossible?

At the end of chapter three in Remediation, after plowing through the lengthy exploration of the “psychosexual interpretation of the dichotomy between transparent immediacy and hypermediacy” (84), all I could say is “so what?” It’s not all that difficult to understand that “transparent immediacy attempts to achieve through linear perspective a single “right” representation of things […] while hypermediacy becomes the sum of all unconventional…ways of looking.” However, the final terse statement at the end of this chapter: “Transparency needs hypermediacy,” caused me to shake my head and wonder. Earlier in the book, Bolter and Grusin told me in the same succinct way that “immediacy depends upon hypermediacy” (6), so it was no jump to conclude that the authors believe that both transparency and immediacy, or transparent immediacy, needs and depends upon hypermediacy. But there seems to be –– maybe unintentional –– a deceptive psychological undertow created by this particular consideration of the remediated ocean we exist in. I feel like I’m being pulled along to accept the “futility of believing that any technology of representation can fully erase itself” (81), which is OK; but I also feel like I’m being pulled toward believing that hypermediacy will always reemerge due to the fact of impossible transparent immediacy.

Now there’s nothing wrong with a healthy fascination, and even a concentrated obsession is all right on occasion, but these authors are beyond fascination or obsession in Remediation. Consequently, their tightly focused vision creates a biased view, so narrow that it fails to take into account a certain reality that simply lies outside the realm of digital technological advancement, mediation, and remediation. This reality has to do with the non–technological transparent immediacy that can be achieved or shared between living, breathing human beings, the transparent immediacy that does not rely on hypermediacy because it does not rely on any form of media at all.

When I read the first page of Remediation, the following sentence nearly leapt off the page: “If the ultimate purpose of media is indeed to transfer sense experiences from one person to another, the wire threatens to make all media obsolete” (3). I remember thinking that media, as they say these days, has always–already been obsolete in the transference of sense experience between people. In fact, under the right circumstances, media isn’t even an issue. It’s superfluous… non–existent. How many times have each of us received a simultaneous impression with another, and with only a look, and sometimes not even that, shared the same inner “sense experience” –– the kind that really counts in human communication –– caused by that impression? How many times do we share this “transparent immediacy” with other human beings every day without any assistance at all from any form of technology? How many truly countless times has this type of “transference” happened over the eons of our existence between human beings engaged in the simple act of intimacy during the intake of a shared sensory perception?

Perhaps Bolter and Grusin’s grand obsession with the theory of remediation does serve a good purpose by “reminding us of the futility of believing that any technology of representation can fully erase itself.” However, I remain convinced that human beings not only have the capacity to engage in transparent immediacy, but that they do it all the time. In other words, in spite of the psychological current created by Remediation and designed to convince me that hypermediacy is transparent immediacy’s only hope, I believe that transparent immediacy does not “need” hypermediacy, and that “the rich sensorium of human experience” (34) is always–already shared during states of intimacy between human beings.

The Mills

Avoiding Seppuku

I read an interesting article in the L.A. times today stating that Toyota could be facing financial ruin because of the likely possibility that their “sudden acceleration” problem is due to faulty microprocessors or engine control modules. Not only would this kind of technological problem be very expensive to fix on a large scale, but it would also be a “tremendously difficult thing to spot,” according to Ronald Jurgen, electrical engineer. The reporter who wrote the article refers to the problem as an electronic ‘ghost’ waiting patiently to haunt the Japanese automotive manufacturer, and I suppose there just may be some top level computer designers over at Toyota who could meet that ghost, literally, after reestablishing, for their own purposes, the ancient Samurai practice of Seppuku.

That the problem facing Toyota is grave, there can be no doubt, and I believe there’s a lesson here relative to the world of technological advancement in the classroom. All along, I’ve believed Toyota’s problem was electronic, but the fact that Toyota is going to the wall by insisting it’s a mechanical problem proves one thing for certain in my eyes. We should be very careful about designating certain jobs to computers, and not only those jobs that require the solid and dependable characteristics of physical mechanics, like a throttle linkage. I also think jobs that require human contact, which by nature should concern all of us in the humanities, are prime candidates for critical analysis when technological advancement is being considered in the classroom. The idea from Selber concerning “what is lost as well as what is gained” plays a big role in this area.

Even though I do believe that technology in the classroom is going to mushroom and that someday in the near future we will be composing in wonderful new ways, the core of what we teach –– our identity as human beings concerned with our own growth and the growth of others –– has to remain our primary concern. Continually reminding ourselves of this aim is a good way to keep from inadvertently creating a sterile technological environment in the classroom, or thoughtlessly counting on technology to take care of too much for us. No matter what the outcome of Toyota’s problem, it is beginning to look like the damage done to their reputation is already irreversible. If we want to keep safe the reputation of the humanities as an area concerned with the study of the human condition, then we’d do well to look long and hard with a critical eye before overusing technology in areas requiring human interaction.

Response to Nya (couldn't post a comment)

The idea that the scholarly "competency requirements" you mention "fail to situate technology in social, political, and economic contexts," has bothered me for a long time. I've watched "collaboration and consensual decision-making" get sucked into the vortex of corporate America, and now I too am concerned about the future of technological advancements. However, I'm feeling a bit of relief because at least we are recognizing the need to consider "the implications technology has on social and political environments." If Selber is saying what I think he is, it's a sign that we are beginning to wake up.

Different genres and technology

I’m starting to see a link between the idea of teaching students the importance of considering the use of elements from different genres in freshman composition classes and the use of technological communication in the future. I'm also starting to think that someday composition will be done only on computers, using imagery along with words, much the same as we are doing now in our “visual essays.” I even think it’s possible that eventually we will be producing academic “essays” that have no resemblance at all to the type produced today in that they will count on imagery as foundational and words for embellishment. This I think is a good thing, because it has the potential to free us up from the confines of the written page and allow for more creative self–expression.