Welcome to 1984 (and Not in a Good, Footloose-is-Back-on-Top-of-the-Charts Kind of Way)
Sometimes I worry that I could easily become aconspiracy nut. (I realize that most people probably don’t have this on theirlist of concerns, but my worry list has always been longer, and stranger, thanmost.) I blame some of it on the fact that I spent most of my childhoodwatching soap operas, Phil Donahue and Unsolved Mysteries. There was even abrief – and unfortunate – period when I believed that Elvis faked his own death.
And despite what my occasionally rational braintells me about accidents and coincidence, I think I’ve watched far too many politicalthrillers as an adult, too. (I still find it odd that one of the most liberalmembers of the Senate, Paul Wellstone, died in a plane crash shortly beforesome key votes under the Bush administration, but I try to keep this mostly tomyself.)
However, I do not think I’m paranoid when I saythat we are, at present, on the verge of living in the world created by GeorgeOrwell in 1984. But, it’s not big government we need to be afraid of -– it’sFacebook.
Even without the latest issues Facebook has hadwith privacy, revealing information to other web sources, etc., social networkinghas always had the potential to implement a kind of social control that noinvading army or government entity is capable of. And the key to that societalcontrol rests entirely in surveillance.
For an anthropology class nearly a decade ago(when I sat down on the first day and saw that half the room was full ofathletes, I knew I’d found a good place to be), I read a book called Depraved andDisorderly. It’s a study of women in penal colonies in Australia (aka, thefounding women of Australia), and for the large part, the book discusses howconstant surveillance and the removal of all privacy was used to turn these “wildwomen” into the model citizens the English government wanted them to be at thetime.
For most of any community, it’s not the threat ofpunishment or pain that keeps us in line -– it’s the threat of discovery or exposure. We don’twant our innermost thoughts judged, nor do we want our most intimate actsexposed.
If you think about it, can you be yourself onFacebook? The answer most of the time is “no.” Facebook, Twitter, Ning, MySpace,etc. are not places to express what is really going on with you. They areplaces for the cleaned-up, civilized you. The you without too strong an opinionor emotion. The you that doesn’t want to alienate or offend -– especially onceyou allow co-workers, colleagues, clients and Grandma into the mix. So, whileseeming open and connected to everyone around us, in so many ways, we’ve simplyjoined the herd.
When I Twitter, I constantly wonder about thelines of how much is too much and what goes too far. If I want to do any sortof business or promotion on Facebook (which as a writer, of course, I do), whatcan and can’t I say? If I say what I really think about the Bible (be it theliteral word of God, a historical document or the creation of aliens -– I’m notgiving the real answer away just yet), how many readers did I just lose? Whoisn’t coming back? Are there those who will never want to hire me again? Did Ijust assign myself to one and only audience?
And the same questions are with me when it comesto my views on politics, sexuality or even which brand of deodorant I likebest.
In another way, we’ve also all become our own brands -–only allowing the crafted Laurel Mills or the character of Laurel Mills outonto the Internet , rather than the real one. Even the vulnerabilities we showon Facebook are the ones we choose to show -- our calculated and approvedfoibles.
So, in many ways, just as we’ve embraced our own constantsurveillance and societal control, we’ve also become the ultimate consumers. Webuy what we’re sold on TV or the Internet (I’d say magazines too, but we all knowwhat happened to those), and we buy each other at a constantly alarming andescalating rate.
An example? We don’t even watch scriptedtelevision anymore. We watch reality stars/the people that could be ourneighbors.
Facebook profiles weren’t enough? Add statusupdates. Not enough of those? Twitter. Away from your computer? iPhones, iPads,Droids, Blackberries –- whatever it takes to be constantly consuming the words,actions and whereabouts (I’m looking at you Four Square) of those around you.
We watch each other, all the time. We are our ownjailers. And the more we watch, the less we do.
So, while I’m just as guilty as anyone ofeverything I just talked about, I think the end result could be something noneof us are prepared for –- an international community without identities stuckbehind screens unable to react to any threat or injustice in any way moremeaningful than starting a Facebook group that hopes to eventually be 1,000,000strong.
The pen may be mightier than the sword, but westill have to live lives in addition to just watching them for it to matter.
If after reading this, you’ve ended up branding mea conspiracy nut, so be it. I’ve been called worse, and I just might have earned it.
* While I'm sure there are people with similar views, I haven't read their specific thoughts on the topic. If you've stumbled upon similar or dissimilar thoughts, please leave me some suggested reading material in the comments.
* I really think that, in an odd way, Nathaniel Hawthorne tread similar themes in The Blithedale Romance (1852), and yes, I once included reality TV in one of my graduate level English papers because of it.
The Other Laurel Mills
Every so often, I google myself. (Yes, that means exactly what it sounds like -- I type my own name into Google's search engine to see what pops up.) What can I say? I find myself fascinating. Also, to discuss amongst yourselves: To what degree is an Internet presence today's gauge of how much one matters/how successful one is?
Those of you with dignity and whatnot can pretend that you never engage in such time-wasting, self-indulgent shenanigans, but I still won't believe you. I think, apart from noticing the occasional celebrity or world news event, most of us find ourselves to be our own favorite subject. This explains the number of mirrors in most homes, the joys of scrap booking and the prevalence of ancestry as a hobby. (Feel free to discuss this last concept amongst yourselves as well.)
Unfortunately for my often-flailing self-esteem, it takes many pages of "laurel mills" Google search results to find the Laurel Mills penning this blog post. There is a town in Virginia called Laurel Mills (a place I think I should be official queen of, but that's another story for another day) mills in Laurel, Mississippi and Laurel, Maryland as well as, perhaps worst of all, another, far more successful and acclaimed writer by the name of Laurel Mills.
Sigh.
But, it's not the other writer Laurel MIlls' bigger talent that concerns me the most about this. (I'm always willing to be mistaken for someone more successful and more talented.) It's that the other Laurel Mills is known primarily for lesbian fiction. The tags "lesbian interest" and "lesbian writing" are most commonly associated with her search results. In the words of Jerry Seinfeld, not that there's anything wrong with that, but as a single gal with mostly married friends, I need all the help I can get. And, on the off, off chance that a single, straight man picks up a copy of a magazine called Lipstick and decided to google me, I'd really rather him know that I'm straight, too.
You can find out about the other Laurel Mills (pictured), lauded poet and author of Undercurrents, here.