[spectre] The Network of Waves - Public Agency in Hybrid Space
Eric Kluitenberg
epk at xs4all.nl
Sat Dec 16 01:10:07 CET 2006
dear spectrites,
This essay was written for the new issue of Open (#11), cahier about
art and the public domain - "Hybrid Space". The essay introduces the
overall theme of the issue, and suggests some strategic
considerations on the use of hybrid space.
More information on the issue can be found at the website of NAi
Publishers:
http://www.naipublishers.nl/art/open11_e.html
and at the website of Open:
http://www.opencahier.nl
The journal was presented at De Balie, Centre for Culture and
Politics in Amsterdam, on November 18, with the annual SKOR lecture,
delivered this year by Saskia Sassen: "Public Interventions - The
Shifting Meaning of the Urban Condition".
The lecture is available on-line at: http://www.debalie.nl/terugkijken
See also: http://www.debalie.nl/artikel.jsp?
podiumid=media&articleid=85601
best wishes,
eric
-------------------
The Network of Waves
Public Agency in Hybrid Space
by Eric Kluitenberg
The office space above which I live, in a corner house in the
Indische Buurt, somewhere in Amsterdam East, used to house a local
police station. At that time I was not yet living there. The place
was briefly in the national news because of a fair-sized riot which
took place there. A couple of Moroccan youths were brought to the
station for some minor offence. Their friends thought that this was
not right, so they followed the police back to the station to besiege
the policemen there. It was not just a few friends who ran after the
policemen, but a much larger group which suddenly turned up at the
station, coming from nowhere at the precise moment when the youths
were brought in. At that time this phenomenon, later known as a
‘flash mob’, [1] was still relatively new. The police on site were
unpleasantly surprised, and had to issue a hasty call for
reinforcements to negotiate with the besiegers. When it was all over
a police spokesman said that it was a disgrace that the Moroccan
youths had used their mobile phones to mobilize a mob. How else could
these youths all have known at the same time that something was going
on at which their physical presence was ‘urgently desired’? And
exactly where they needed to be? What the spokesman meant was that
the youths had compiled mailing lists for text messages and then used
texting to get together as many people as possible as quickly as
possible. Texting with mailing lists was a popular application,
because at that time text messages could still be sent and received
free of charge.
A few years ago ‘flash mobs’ received a good deal of attention from
the mass media. Semi-spontaneous public gatherings of groups of
people, hardly if at all known to one another, nondescript, with no
determining characteristics such as banners, uniform or logo, briefly
performed some collective synchronous action, and then dissolved back
into ‘the general public’. Directions and information about the
gathering were sent out by text messages, or e-mails, telling
participants where, when and what. These short messages could easily
be sent on to friends and acquaintances with the aim of starting a
chain reaction resulting in the appearance of an unpredictably large
mob at a predetermined time and place.
Reclaim the Mall!!
The ‘flash-mob’ phenomenon is thought by some people to have
originated in a few relatively unmanageable actions in large shopping
centres in American towns, disorganizing them temporarily and
playfully. These actions generally had no political significance.
This all changed at the end of the 1990s. The ‘Reclaim the Streets’
movement, [2] highly active at the time, which used to organize
illegally orchestrated ‘street raves’ in the public spaces of large
towns, made intensive use of text and e-mail address lists to
organize quasi-spontaneous street parties. They did however give
these street parties a layered political agenda. The parties were
generally given concrete political and social themes and were linked
to particular actions, such as support for a strike by London
Underground staff. The movement’s desire to also use these actions to
free public space from its economically determined function (for
instance transport, shopping or advertising) was succinctly expressed
in the slogan ‘The streets for people!’. The parties followed a fixed
procedure. The evening before, a sound truck with a generator, a DJ
kit and a large number of loudspeakers would park in a wide street.
Shortly before the start a double collision would be staged at the
beginning and end of the street. The crucial factor here was the
provision of information for the participants, who were, in
principle, unknown to the organizers. Participants therefore received
a short message containing simple directions to the place, the date,
the time and a few instructions, such as ‘wait for the orange smoke –
that's when the rave will begin’. The double collision meant that at
the agreed time the street was closed to all traffic. The cars used
were fitted with smoke bombs which were set off by the mini-crash,
producing enormous plumes of orange smoke, visible for miles around.
This was the sign for which the ‘Reclaim the Street’ mob was waiting.
Suddenly the street was flooded with people, sometimes more than a
thousand at a time, while music began to boom from the previously
parked truck or bus.
These examples demonstrate that we are living in a space in which the
public is reconfigured by a multitude of media and communication
networks interwoven into the social and political functions of space
to form a ‘hybrid space’. Traditional space is being overlaid by
electronic networks such as those for mobile telephones and other
wireless media. This superimposition creates a highly unstable
system, uneven and constantly changing. The social phenomena which
occur in this new type of space can not be properly understood
without a very precise analysis of the structure of that space.
The way the Moroccan youths in Amsterdam East used text message
address lists to mobilize themselves rapidly and effectively against
what they saw as unjustified police violence provides an interesting
example of a social group which finds itself in a socially segregated
and stigmatized position appropriating a newly available technology.
Mobilization was possible because at that time real-time mobile
communication (texting) was available essentially free of charge.
Shortly after that incident, texting became a paid service, though
the reasons for this were economic rather than political, and its use
for this purpose quickly lost popularity. It was simply too expensive
to send so many messages at the same time. The specific relationship
between time, space and technology, and to a lesser extent simple
economics, determined the way in which this social phenomenon
manifested itself. More than e-mails, which almost always have to be
downloaded from a terminal or laptop (e-mailing on a mobile telephone
is extremely laborious and inefficient), the brief phase during which
text messaging served as a free public medium provided an important
indicator to a changing relationship in the use and organization of
public space. The mobility and immediacy of the medium gave birth to
new social morphologies, like the ‘flash mob’, which still seem
mostly to indicate a kind of mobile ‘just-in-time-community’ in
physical public space.
The Place of Flows...
The question here is what this new kind of social morphology might
mean. What lies behind the gimmick? What social, economic and
technological transformations give rise to new phenomena of this kind?
So far the most important sociological theory about this is set out
in Manuel Castells’ Rise of the Network Society, the first part of
his trilogy on the information age. [3] In it he describes the rise
of flexible social network connections which resulted from economic
and social transformations in late industrial societies and were
strengthened by the introduction and wide application of new
technology, primarily communication and information technology.
Castells postulates that the network has become the dominant form in
a new type of society that he calls the network society. He treats
the influence of the network form as a social organization in
physical and social space and establishes a new kind of dichotomy.
According to Castells there are two opposing types of spatial logic,
the logic of material places and locations (the ‘space of place’) and
the logic of intangible flows of information, communication, services
and capital (the ‘space of flows’). [4]
The particularly striking thing about Castells’ theory is the strict
separation between the two kinds of spatial logic. Whereas the space
of places and locations is clearly localized and associated with
local history, tradition and memory, Castells sees the space of flows
as essentially ahistorical, location-free and continuous. This last
mainly because it moves across every time zone and so in some sense
is not only location-free but also timeless. [5] Castells believes
there is a fundamental asymmetry between the two kinds of space:
while the vast majority of the world's inhabitants live, dwell and
work in the space of places and locations, the dominant economic
political, social and ultimately also cultural functions are
increasingly shifting to the place of flows, where they make possible
location-free ahistorical network connections, international trends,
power complexes and capital movements. Only a very small part of the
world population is represented in the bodies which take decisions
about the organization and use of new location-free spatial
connections. But increasingly the decisions made within such self-
contained systems determine the living conditions in those places and
locations where the vast majority of the world population attempt to
survive and where their knowledge, experience and memory is
localized. Castells feels that it is not surprising that political,
social and cultural bridges need to be deliberately built between the
two spatial dynamics, to avoid society’s collapse into insoluble
schizophrenia.
The attractive thing about Castells’ theory is that it makes it
possible to grasp and clarify a multiplicity of asymmetric social
developments in a single image – an image that has certainly not left
popular culture unmoved. At the same time Castells’ suggested
contrast between physical locations and places and the intangible
space of flows is misleading and ultimately even counterproductive
for his political agenda: the deliberate building of bridges between
physical space and informational space. Instead of a strict
separation between physical space and informational space, all
technological and social trends clearly indicate that these two
‘spheres’ are becoming more and more closely interwoven. A generic
model of the sort suggested by Castells is totally unsuited to the
analysis of this closeness and to gaining an understanding of how
possibilities for public and private action come about within it, the
central question posed in the present issue of Open. What threats to
the autonomy and inviolability of the subject, the group, the
community or cultural self-determination could possibly manifest
themselves here and how can something be done about those threats?
Hybrid Space as a Polymorphous Concept
Against the placelessness and continuity of Castells’ ahistorical
‘space of flows’ stands the discontinuity and multiplicity of hybrid
space. The hybridity of this spatial concept refers not only to the
stratified nature of physical space and the electronic communication
networks it contains, but every bit as much to the discontinuity of
the ‘connectivity’ or degree of connection between the multiplicity
of communication networks. After all, even the universal presence of
a telephone connection can not be taken for granted. More important
still is the connection between local social and electronic networks:
who communicates with whom, and in what context, is determined
differently from one region to another, sometimes even from one day
to the next. Because the space of electronic communication is rooted
in local networks, it is also linked with local history. And
questions about who controls electronic space or becomes familiar
with electronic space are by no means easy to answer. Ravi Sundaram
for example, co-founder of the Sarai new media initiative in Delhi,
is constantly drawing attention to the coming into being of what he
calls ‘electronic pirate-modernity’, [6] which comes about when local
groups or individuals, illegitimately and without permission, gain
access to television, telephone or the Internet – ‘Never ask
permission, just appear!’.
Hybrid space is never exclusively local, as in the case of the
idyllic hippy commune at the beginning of the 1970s. Small local
networks, hacked or not, never remain limited to the local bazaar or
the vegetable market in the next village. Local networks interweave
with the international networks into which they force their way.
Thus, says Saskia Sassen, the local is reconstituted as a micro-
environment with a worldwide reach. Free-software geniuses in Sao
Paulo’s favelas find no difficulty in downloading the results of the
latest interchange between the Amsterdam Waag (the Society for Old
and New Media) and the Alternative Law Forum in Bangalore, but nobody
pulls his or her local roots out of the ground.
Diktat of Visibility
The thing that strikes one about current discussion and the
associated criticism of the rise of electronic media in public space
is the preoccupation with the visual forms in which these media
manifest themselves, such as screens, projections and electronic
tagging. [7] It is a sort of extended visual criticism, closely
connected with a tradition which assumes that the visual arrangement
of observable reality is a necessary precondition for any ability to
exercise power over that reality. However, the thing that stands in
the way of this preoccupation with the visual is a critical analysis
of the more invisible processes which are rearranging public space
and imposing a different utilization logic. Relatively invisible
forms of social compulsion, which bring these processes into play,
may well have a much greater significance for the way in which public
space can and may be used in future.
The concept of the perfect visual arrangement, expressing a social
reality in which power structures are completely unambiguous and
transparent, still always refers to Alberti’s ‘legitimate
construction’ and Piero della Francesca’s ideal city, both of which
reflect a visual articulation of daily life suggesting that
everything, social and public, is completely controllable and
constructible. Although the unifying point of view of a linear
perspective has long been rejected, the street screens still
stipulate for us a single perspective: a correct viewing distance and
direction, while social relationships are radically altered.
The street screen is also the embodiment of spectacle in its most
repressive form. Today spectacle is no longer alone in controlling
the inner life, the interior of the alienation of the average TV
junkie. The street, the classic stage of modern theatre, is
overloaded with marching electronic screens and projections, so
erasing the public functions of open space. Public functions become
blurred by the flow of light and images drenching us in a fetish of
alienating desires as we follow our necessary route through the city,
from A to B.
Limitations of the Screen
Another point of criticism of the new urban visuality is its inherent
limitation. Virtually every screen is rectangular and flat and has
limited resolution (the number of pixels which determine the quality
of the image). Media artists recognized these limitations years ago
and have, with varying degrees of success, developed a multitude of
strategies to attempt to overcome those limitations by, for example,
a spatial type of installation, interactive media in which the screen
itself also becomes an object capable of being moved and manipulated,
projection on walls, fabrics, curved screens, screens that are not
rectangular, [8] mirrored projections, moving projections,
projections on glass materials and so on. Some artists, as for
example the members of the Knowbotic Research collective, even leave
out screens entirely, replacing them by new haptic interfaces and
stereoscopic helmets from the Virtual Reality research laboratory or,
as during the 1996 Dutch Electronic Art Festival, an installation on
the roof of the Netherlands Architecture Institute, where network
manipulations translated into sound and stroboscopic light. [9] Yet
another example of the movement to bypass the screen is the Xchange
network, in which artists collectively explore the sonic dimension of
the Internet. [10]
The new generation of media-architects can learn from media art that
the screen is ultimately a dead end. It is interesting to see how
these attempts at iconographic liberation keep on recurring. Avant-
garde painters carried out endless experiments in their attempts to
break away from the frame of the painting and the surface of the
canvas, their ultimate aim being to announce the death of the
‘retinal’ object. This same death announcement is repeated by today's
media artists, but this time in relation to the screen. Media
architecture again venerates the screen as a window on a space first
seen as boundless, but later recognized as being largely subject to
limitations and conventions.
Ultimately the screen dissolves into the architecture, becoming less
a screen than a membrane between physical and medial reality. Here
the ‘image’ functions less and less as an autonomous object, but
increasingly coincides with the architecture itself, its skin, its
inner life and its internal processes, finally disappearing from the
consciousness of the user of that architecture. The image becomes
subliminal, ‘vernacular’, commonplace, merged with the environment,
self-evident – in the end the spectacle neutralizes itself. Media
theorist Lev Manovich was still positive about this new medially
enhanced architecture in his essay entitled The Poetics of Augmented
Space, that had Learning from Prada as subtitle and was based on the
success of Koolhaas’s creation. [11] By now we know that the concept
has failed completely, screens have disappeared from the scene or
have been cut back to a minimum. The lesson of Prada is that the
strategy of visibility can quickly turn into its opposite.
The Problem of Invisibility
In the present phase, the most important change in computer
technology and its applications is that they are steadily beginning
to withdraw themselves from sight. The European Union has for some
years now been subsidizing a wide-ranging programme of
multidisciplinary research and discussion with the remarkable title
The Disappearing Computer. This title alludes less to the
disappearance of computer technology than to its ongoing
miniaturization and the way that it is beginning to turn up
everywhere. The programme is investigating the migration of
electronic network technology into every kind of object, to built
environments and even to living beings. The thesis is that
miniaturization and steadily reducing production costs are making it
simpler to provide all kinds of objects with simple electronic
functions (chips containing information, tags that can send or
receive signals, identification chips and specialized functions in
everyday objects). This is more efficient than building ever more
complex pieces of multifunctional apparatus and mean the abandonment
of the old idea of the computer as a universal machine capable of
performing every conceivable function. [12] In fact, this is how
technology becomes invisible. A decisive step, with dramatic
consequences for the way people think about and deal with spatial
processes.
This assimilation of computer technology in the environment
introduces a new issue: the problem of invisibility. When technology
becomes invisible, it disappears from people’s awareness. The
environment is no longer perceived as a technological construct,
making it difficult to discuss the effects of technology.
Lev Manovich speaks of ‘augmented space’, a space enriched with
technology, which only becomes activated when a specific function is
required. [13] Wireless transmitters and receivers play a crucial
role in such enriched spaces. Objects are directly linked with
portable media. Chips are incorporated into identity cards and
clothing. Even one’s shopping is automatically registered by sensors.
Screens and information systems are switched on remotely, by a simple
wave of the hand. Miniaturization, remote control and particularly
the mass production of radio frequency identification (RFID) tags is
bringing the age-old technological fantasy of a quasi-intelligent,
responsive environment within reach of digital engineers.
Of course these applications are not exclusively neutral.
Combinations of technologies of the sort described above make it
amazingly simple to introduce new and infinitely differentiated
regimes for the control of public and private space. The application
to public transport of RFID smart cards, which automatically
determine the distance travelled, the fare and the credit balance,
still sounds relatively harmless. Fitting household pets with an
identity chip the size of a grain of rice, inserted under the skin,
has become widespread practice. Indeed most health insurance schemes
for household pets prescribe the insertion of such chips as an entry
condition. Recently, however, first reports have turned up of
security firms in the United States which provide their employees
with subcutaneous chips allowing them to move through secure
buildings without the use of keys or smart cards. Such systems also
allow companies to compile a specific profile for each individual
employee specifying those parts of the building or object to which
the employer has (or is denied) access, and at what times.
It is not difficult to extrapolate these practices to society as a
whole. Who has the initiative in such matters? If the initiative lies
exclusively with the constructors, the producers of these augmented
spaces, and their clients, then the space we are living in is liable
to total authoritarian control, even if there is no immediately
observable way in which that space displays the historic
characteristics of authoritarianism. The more widely the initiative
is distributed between producers and consumers and the more decision-
making is transferred the ‘nodes’ (the extremities of the network,
occupied by the users) instead of at the ‘hubs’ (junctions in the
network), the more chance there is of a space in which the sovereign
subject is able to shape his or her own autonomy. The articulation of
subjectivity in the network of waves is also an opportunity for the
last remnants of autonomy to manifest themselves.
The Strategic Issue: ‘Agency’ in Hybrid Spaces
The concept of ‘agency’ is difficult to interpret, but literally
combines action, mediation and power. It is not surprising therefore,
to find it applied as a strategic instrument for dealing with
questions about the ongoing hybridization of public and private
space. Unlike Michel de Certeau’s tactical acts of spatial resistance
to the dominant utilitarian logic of urban space in particular, the
action of this instrument in new (‘augmented’) hybrid spaces has
mainly strategic significance. A tactical act of spatial resistance,
which is after all no more than temporary, is hardly comforting to
anyone faced by such an infinitely diversified and adaptive system of
spatial control. New hybrid spaces must be deliberately 'designed' to
create free spaces within which the subject can withdraw himself,
temporarily, from spatial determination. Given the power politics and
the enormous strategic and economic interests involved, and the
associated demands for security and control, it is clear that these
free spaces will not come about by themselves or as a matter of
course. I would therefore like to suggest a number of strategies to
give some chance of success to the creation of such spaces.
Public visibility: ‘maps and counter-maps’, tactical cartography
The problem of the invisibility of the countless networks penetrating
public and private space is ultimately insoluble. What can be done,
however, is to remake them in a local and visible form, in such a way
that they remain in the public eye and in the public consciousness.
This strategy can be expressed in ‘tactical cartography’, using the
tools of the network of waves (gps, Wi-Fi, 3G, etcetera) to lay bare
its authoritarian structure. An aesthetic interpretation of these
structures increases the sensitivity of the observer to the
‘invisible’ presence of these networks.
Disconnectivity
Emphasis is always placed on the right and desire to be connected.
However, in future it may be more important to have the right and
power to be shut out, to have the option, for a longer or shorter
time, to be disconnected from the network of waves.
Sabotage
Deliberately undermining the system, damaging the infrastructure,
disruption and sabotage are always available as ways of giving
resistance concrete form. Such measures will, however, always provoke
countermeasures, so that ultimately the authoritarian structure of a
dystopian hybrid space is more likely to be strengthened and
perpetuated than to be thrown open to any form of autonomy.
Legal provisions, prohibitions
In the post-ideological stage of Western society it seems that the
laws and rights used to legalize matters provide the only credible
source of social justification. But because a system of legal rules
runs counter to the sovereignty of the subject it can never be the
embodiment of a desire for autonomy. It can, however, play a part in
creating more favourable conditions.
Reduction in economic scale
New hybrid systems of spatial planning and control depend on a
radical increase in economic scale in the production of its
instruments of control. Thus the political choice to deliberately
reduce economic scale would be an outstanding instrument to thwart
this ‘scaling-up’ strategy. [14]
Accountability and public transparency
In the words of surveillance specialist David Lyon, ‘Forget privacy,
focus on accountability’. It would be naive to assume that the
tendencies described above can easily be reversed, even with
political will and support from public opinion. A strategy of
insisting on the accountability of constructors and clients of these
new systems of spatial and social control could lead to usable
results in the shorter term.
Deliberate violation of an imposed spatial program
Civil disobedience is another effective strategy, especially if it
can be orchestrated on a massive scale. Unlike sabotage, the aim here
is not to disorganize or damage systems of control, but simply to
make them ineffective by massively ignoring them. After all, the
public interest is the interest of everyone, and no other interest
weighs more heavily. [15]
The formation of new social and political actors – public action
‘Agency’, the power to act, means taking action in some concrete
form. The complexity of the new hybrid spatial and technological
regimes makes it appear that the idea of action is in fact an absurdity.
However, new social and political players manifest themselves in
public space by the special way they act, by clustering, by
displaying recognizable visuality, by marking their ‘presence’ vis-a-
vis (the) other(s).
The manifestation of concrete action by new social and political
actors in public space is ‘gesture’. The action, in this case, is the
way the space is used, though there is still a difference between the
use of a space and more or less public actions in that space. The use
of space becomes agency when that use takes on a strategic form.
Notes:
1. For a description, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/flashmob.
2. Reclaim the streets website http://rts.gn.apc.org/.
3. Manuel Castells, The Rise of the Network Society (Oxford:
Blackwell Publishers, 1996).
4. Ibid.
5. Consider for example the concept of the 24-hour economy.
6. ‘Electronic pirate modernity’: see also www.sarai.net.
7. See also www.urbanscreens.org or the Logo Parc symposium held in
Amsterdam on 16 November 2005, a cooperative project undertaken by
the Jan van Eyck Academy, the Premsela Foundation and the Art and
Public Space Lectureship (Rietveld Academy and the University of
Amsterdam).
8. These ‘shaped screens’ do incidentally form a curious counterpart
to Frank Stella’s Shaped Canvasses.
9. Anonymous Muttering: http://www.khm.de/people/krcf/AM/.
10. Website of the Xchange network, http://xchange.re-lab.net.
11. Lev Manovich, The Poetics of Augmented Space: Learning from Prada
(2002), see www.manovich.net
12. The so-called Turing Machine, named after the mathematician Allan
Turing – the machine that is capable of simulating any other machine.
13. Manovich, The Poetics of Augmented Space, op. cit. (note 11).
14. The mass production of RFID (radio frequency identification) tags
compelled producers to minimize the security provisions incorporated
to allow the tags to be applied cost effectively to virtually any
conceivable consumer product. A policy of giving priority to the
safety and reliability of the chips and the information stored on
them would make them much too expensive, restricting their
development to specialized ‘niche’ markets.
15. Examples of a new kind of civil disobedience include deactivating
RFID tags with the aid of an adapted mobile phone, hindering the
operation of smart cards, regularly swapping client cards,
deliberately supplying false information when registering online and
using ‘anonymizers’ on the Internet, ‘encrypted’ (coded) mobile
phones and local gsm blockers.
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