Foucault’s description of the panopticon, then, as a device which simultaneously increases visibility while separating individuals, which increases efficiency while removing communication, could be used to discuss the role of computers in literacy.There are, I think, a wide variety of ways to apply the metaphor of the panopticon to the widespread adoption of computers in society. In the spirit of Foucault, here is a list:
- The computer allows users to find a huge array of information, so the computer could be the panopticon, and the user the observer at the center, looking out at the cells filled with various parts of the Internet.
- Individual users are compartmentalized while constantly relying on and, perhaps, being surveilled by the computer itself. So the computer could be seen as the observer at the center of a more nebulous type of panopticon filled with computer users, perhaps representing society, or at least digital society.
- Combining both previous points, the users of computers fulfill the roles of both inmate and observer, each separated from each other, each having the opportunity to observe the other, in a sort of endlessly overlapping set of panopticons. Each individual is at the center of their own panopticon, while simultaneously in the cell of many others.
We might argue that the computer-literate, and more specifically the computer creators, are at the center of the panopticon, and the computer-illiterate are in the cells. But I think Ohman’s point after visiting McDonalds about how the computer-illiterate can still use computers leads to a slightly different conclusion. If we do not know how to fluently use the machine, we are “prisoners” to those who made it. We are forced to use it how they intended.
Foucault makes a similar observation, noting that once the structure of the panopticon is in place, anyone can function as observer. In fact, the observer is theoretically unnecessary. Once the panopticon is created, it is impossible to use it for any purpose other than that for which it was created. Luckily I do not think that the comparison between computer and panopticon is so strict that this feature is present in both cases. The computer is much more malleable, and able to be used for whatever purpose the user desires. However, the users level of computer-literacy does impact the range of these uses. Therefore I agree with Ohman (and Selfe) that computer-literacy is as important as traditional literacy, and needs to be emphasized.
Your perspective puts a question of mine into better clarity. Since reading Ohmann and Foucault, I’ve been wondering what our specific roles are as teachers in revealing the panoptic mode to students, and effectively teaching them to “take the central tower” (cf. conversations in “The Eye of Power”) with an objective in mind. As you rightly point out and as Ohmann suggests, computers are an incredible example of a panoptic mechanism. Invoking Foucault amidst social networking debates concerning sites such as facebook, twitter, and myspace seems critical in pointing out the social/economic forces at play. Furthermore, asking students to work with new media places them into the panopticon whether we (or they) like it or not. Regardless, there won’t be a Snake Pliskin-type character who wipes computer technology from the face of the planet, liberating us from its structures. For now, peoples in economically developed regions are stuck with it for better or worse (or both).
ReplyDeleteBack to the core of my question: when Perrot poses to Foucault, “And there’s no point for the prisoners in taking over the central tower,” Foucault responds that such a move has a point so long as it isn’t “the final purpose of the operation” (“The Eye of Power” 164). So, if we as teachers show our students the central tower—explaining its significance in the panoptic relationship—how do we translate this final purpose? I’m inclined to say that we can’t just think of taking the central tower as a kind of tactical overthrow, but rather a bending of mirrors. Maybe we don’t have to leave our proverbial (or computerized actual) panoptic cells to understand what is going on in the central tower. Maybe there’s a way to stay on the literal periphery (for example, I won’t ever be a lead programmer or hardware designer), but move to the metaphorical central tower by knowing. Heh, that emphasis on “knowing” looks rather paranoid.
Writing when at its ideal (in an academic environment at least) shines in an panoptic environment. We get to read other people’s perspectives, have them read ours, and remain in what is hopefully constructive if not always systematic conversation. Is that how we turn a potentially oppressive mode into something advantageous? Through teaching students about how the panoptic mode functions, we can provide them with strategies for engaging others within its walls, which, according to Foucault, we’re not technically supposed to be able to do (“Panopticism” 200). In this way, by engaging others through open-ended modes (not pushing the “hamburger” button as Ohmann fears), the panoptic mechanism starts to lose totality.
One more question hypothetical question, for dark-humored fun: is there really any way to escape the panoptic environment? Could we teach students to work outside of its walls entirely? Maybe we can’t in a literal sense, but if agency can be asserted through identity, it seems possible on a philosophical level to reconstruct an identity free from the panoptic gaze. But, since enculturation in some way defines our identities, can those of us who grew up in a panoptic society ever actually escape being defined by the panoptic mechanism?
I appreciate the insights of both Matt and Jacob. The Panopticon, it seems, offers endless depths of exploration into our own historico-political space and the architects thereof. I agree that the Panopticon, in both theory and practice, is evident in our institutions, but I also see that the pedagogical reasons for engaging students in digital spaces like Twitter, Facebook, blogs, etc. is an attempt to knock down the lateral walls between the cells of individual thinkers. I felt this personally (and complained of it early in the course) when I expressed concern over being ‘forced’ to write publicly when I was yet unsure of my theoretical and practical footing. Where the Panopticon offers transparency to the authority figure, these digital modes offer a form of lateral transparency and potential democracy, tendering voices with less audibility the egalitarian freedom available in the silence of text/privacy of composition as well as the opportunity for multimodal expression. Do we not, as teachers, encourage the anarchy or at least a questioning of the “guarantee of order” offered by the Panopticon’s strategic “lateral invisibility” (200)? With that said, Foucault clearly describes the inevitability of self-censorship (despite educator attempts at breaking down the hierarchical and individualistic relationship between teacher and student): “An inspecting gaze, a gaze with each individual under its weight will end by interiorizing to the point that he is his own overseer, each individual thus exercising this surveillance over, and against, himself” (155).
ReplyDeleteI am also curious to discuss further what we can learn from the four fundamental problems of space identified by the doctor/architects of the eighteenth century. It seems to me that the discussion of “local conditions, co-existences, residences and displacements” which then informed spatial arrangement and control could be identified in both the physical and digital classroom (150). In what ways are students quarantined by teachers or naturally grouped, either by themselves or by prevailing social factors? What can we learn from the residences or environments in which we interact? Are we aware of displacements, migrations, and the spreading of ideological diseases as it were? Do these processes happen differently in digital space? What is the role of the “eye of power” in how students arrange themselves?
Matt says, that in contrast to the panopticon, "the computer is much more malleable, and able to be used for whatever purpose the user desires. However, the users level of computer-literacy does impact the range of these uses." I ask, how are these desires shaped by the system within which the user finds him/herself? I love (love) moments of resistance. Hacking, for eg, turns the structures implicit in early networked computing on their head. Or something as silly as MySpace template generators (old school, I know, but it was a big deal at the time). A sort of, "you've given me this tool, and I'd rather use it in this way."
ReplyDeleteTo me, computer literacy shapes a lot how users can mess w/ the system, but a lot of it also has to come from a recognition of a system, and a desire to mess with it.
In other news, I agree w/ Jacob in a way that we're always in a panoptic structure, but I think that some level of awareness of the structure, who's in the tower, what systems we are complicit with and why, is important work.
Then again, becoming aware of systems of power is really a drag. (it's true. the more i become cognizant of the systems of power at play in the tenure system, the more i want to run to the woods to start a goat farm. best not to think about it.)