What follows are several anecdotes from my year and a half in China regarding the topic of internet (and other) censorship and the atmosphere of distrust and paranoia it fosters.
In my first year in Ürümqi I regularly attended a weekly English club with a close network of Chinese professionals. We ate in a private dining room at a small mom-and-pop restaurant, and it was an intimate-enough group that sometimes conversations turned political. There were a small few who spoke without hesitation, but without fail somebody would get up to close the door before having their say.
I remember it was during one of these conversations that a relative newcomer to the group asked me out of the blue if I ever called home to Canada.
“No,” I told him, “I just use the internet.”
“Good,” he replied, “Someone might listen, if you called.”
This sort of caught me by surprise, so I probed him: “What, like American spies?”
He shook his head no, but then thought about it. “Maybe them too. But I mean the Chinese police.”
There was also a (in my opinion) completely reasonable belief among many of the foreigners that many of our apartments might be bugged as well. A friend who attended college in China over a decade ago says he was told flat-out that the foreign student dormitory was being recorded, but not monitored. “If something happens,” he was told, “They can go back and review the recordings.”
I visited another friend’s apartment once, and it came up in conversation that he believed his place was definitely bugged. When I asked him how he knew, he said that another foreigner had lived in it before; he had been friends with him and spent a lot of time visiting. One day a young policeman in the neighborhood warned him to be careful what he said when he visited. Despite the ominous warning, he liked the neighborhood and tried to rent an apartment nearby, but was blocked by the police. I know others who were barred from this neighborhood as well. Finally, though, after his friends moved to a new home he contacted their landlord and inquired about their old apartment. He was given permission to move in by the same police who had told him it was impossible before. The popular opinion was that they probably approved it because they wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of re-bugging the place.
Again, it isn’t to say that everyone’s apartment is bugged. But it’s very telling to me that whenever the topic came up, the usual verdict was usually ‘Yeah, could be,’ and never ‘No, stop being paranoid.’
It isn’t just the foreigners who are so concerned, either. In fact, many locals are subject to more immediate, more real, and more invasive surveillance. Early in my stay in Xinjiang I made friends with a university student who offered to show me around the city. We kept in contact and enjoyed chatting from time to time. On our third or fourth meeting he confessed to me that he was a practitioner of an illegal religion. He said he was never worried about telling foreigners this, because foreigners never seemed to care. “But,” he gestured to the students sitting at the table next to ours “If I told you this in Chinese I might get in trouble.” He recommended some reading materials I should look up, and then spent some time laying out his burdens: at college many of his classmates regularly had their phones confiscated and searched. He showed me both of his phones: one for storing his religious materials, and the other one ‘clean’ so he could hand it over to be searched without worry.
For all the presumed monitoring and censorship, the most people I associated with largely got on with their lives without worrying about it too much. It was occasionally a topic of conversation, or a bit of a game (such as conspicuously whispering pro-China slogans into lamps), but it became a more immediate personal concern in the summer of 2015.
I only briefly mentioned the “Great Firewall” before this, partly because its reputation precedes itself. What some people don’t realize, though, is that most of the time it isn’t terribly difficult to circumvent. There are multiple free Virtual Private Network (VPN) options that will allow one to access Facebook and Youtube, and most foreigners I know made use of one or two VPNs regularly. Some Chinese people I knew also made use of VPNs, but others considered them too much of a hassle for too little benefit (I was once told “Why pay go through so much trouble to use the foreign internet? The Chinese internet has everything I want.”). Word started to circulate that China Mobile, one of the larger cellular carriers, was shutting down service to those running VPNs on their phones. One night at a regular foreigner hang-out, a friend told me about his experience. He had his phone service cut, went to China Mobile to have it reconnected, but was referred to the Public Security bureau. The PSB instructed them to delete all “foreign communication apps” including Facebook and Skype, and submit their phones for inspection before they could be re-activated.
It was clear that the network could tell if a phone was making use of a VPN, but the shut-downs seemed random. A little less than half of my friends got shut down, and I myself continued to use my phone without issue for another six or seven months after that. At the end of January 2016, though, my phone service finally stopped without warning or explanation. At first I thought I had just run out of credit, so I sank some money into my account to put myself back in the black. This didn’t work, so I told my company’s foreigner-handler that I had been shut down. She took me to the Public Security Bureau where they asked me to hand over my phone so they could have a look. I had changed my SIM over from my iPhone to the cheap Nokia phone I had bought in my first week in China. They observed that there were no foreign apps and told me my phone would be re-activated in two weeks. The whole visit took less than fifteen minutes.
They must have figured out I was being less than honest, though, because two months later my phone still hadn’t been reactivated. Otherwise they lost the paperwork or some other institutional failure caused a problem. In any case, I gave up on getting my phone service for a time, and satisfied myself with hopping from wifi hotspot to wifi hotspot around the city for a few months.
Though there are others, these anectdotes are roughly representative of my experience in China. I’ve avoided providing too much biographical info, and/or changed a few details where they are inconsequential, to guard against an unlikely situation where post blips on the Chinese radar.
I will conclude in a third and final post to discuss one last anecdote concerning a personal vice of mine, and the lasting echo of censorship that rings even after leaving China.
Unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs), otherwise known as ‘drones’ have increased in popularity over the past decades for recreational and commercial purposes. The amount of drone purchases has risen dramatically and it is projected to continually rise in the years to come. And this is due in part of the technology being affordable for purchase, ranging anywhere from $20.00 to $1000.00 depending on the size and capabilities of the quadcopter.
This technology has been showcased in providing vital aerial perspectives for photography, which has begun to be used by real estate agencies and freelance videographers. Other prominent groups within society have begun to incorporate drone use within their repertoire.
Companies such as Amazon seek to use drones for package delivery; law enforcement agencies have begun to see the benefits of using drones, especially when it comes to crime scene photography and search and rescue missions; and now journalists have also begun to use drones in their arsenal for better reporting of events.
The potential benefits of this technology are almost limitless but this can also be said for its potential consequences.
To begin with, it helps to understand what ‘drones’ really are. Fundamentally, the technology is just a platform with propellers, because of this it can be fitted for just about any task and the aerial movement provides advantageous in accomplishing the job.
Since 1911, humanity has witnessed the power and control that comes with air superiority. Left unchallenged and unchecked, control of the skies allows for an unhindered use of drone technology. It will be done by those with the power to do so, allowing for their superiority to be better represented by those subjected to the drone’s presence, all the while being able to operate the device at a safe secure location, often away from the scene.
Though it may seem that this technology is relatively new, it has been around since the late 1800s with air balloons being used to as bombs to target enemy cities. Though the technology really got going during World War I by Dr. Elmer Ambrose Sperry who invented the gyroscope, thereby allowing for more precise targeted missile strikes. The technology subsided for a while and was picked up again in the 1950s, this time serving as surveillance and recon for military operations.
As they’ve continued to develop, drones have transformed into hunter-killer devices in wartime settings and are now being operated for police surveillance in domestic areas. However, the lineage of these devices is not so clear cut, as the influence by remotely piloted airplanes by hobbyists has also been attributed to this sudden rise in this technology in a recreational setting.
Now, technology itself is neither good or bad, it is typically taken as neutral. What is important is who is using the technology and for what purpose, coupled with the perception of the drone by the intended target. In this is where the debate and controversy lies. With the constant maneuverability and over encompassing visual surveillance that drones are capable of—questions emerge: who really benefits from this technology when it is in use? Which groups benefit when the police use them? When corporations use them? When journalists use them?
With the emerging trend of police drones, it will be of no surprise to see security rhetoric being used as a tool to influence the populace into believing that we need drone surveillance as a way to feel safer and for it to be easier to catch the ‘criminal.’ Which was exactly what was done with the implementation of CCTV (closed circuit television) cameras. When in reality, it may be used as a tool of control that will benefit the rich and powerful and will be used on the disenfranchised resulting in particular communities and populations being disproportionately exposed to police surveillance.
In addition to providing a hindrance and an interpretation of a violation of our privacy rights.
Drone technology has the capacity to violate our privacy rights. However, this violation can become obscured by the shaping of public understanding mentioned above. This illusion of security is known as ‘security theater,’ a concept coined by Bruce Schneier as a way to explain the countermeasures that are set in place to provide the feeling of improved security while doing little or nothing to actually achieve it.
And what is surprising about all this, is that this is already happening, just on another medium, data collection is routinely gathered on everyone—government and corporate agencies can easily identify your behaviors and whereabouts stored in carefully constructed profiles, all by analyzing the data from your phone or computer.
A drone’s visceral appearance amplifies how we perceive drones and their impact on our privacy. The thought of being watched and the loss of control over surveillance puts individuals in a state of unease. It’s right there, potentially watching you and it may require a lot of effort to do something about it.
The drones are here and their flight has begun. However, it will be important to note who’ll be using the devices and for what purposes. The use of such technologies are often a reflection of its users.
Let’s see some examples:
“We collect information to provide better services to all of our users – from figuring out basic stuff like which language you speak, to more complex things like which ads you’ll find most useful, the people who matter most to you online, or which YouTube videos you might like”.
Let’s look at Facebook.
“We give you the power to share as part of our mission to make the world more open and connected. This policy describes what information we collect and how it is used and shared. You can find additional tools and information at Privacy Basics”.
Another example of the good intentions of Facebook.
“We work with third party companies who help us provide and improve our Services or who use advertising or related products, which makes it possible to operate our companies and provide free services to people around the world”.
What is missing is the way these companies use the user data to swing huge profit margins. This is arguably the most important factor that transparency is suppose to solve. Both Facebook and Google, the two Silicone Valley tech-giants, make a strong claim that they do everything to better serve their customer base–however, their intentions are more so geared towards data monetization.
However, this does not mean that such data can’t be re-identified (for more in-depth explanation—check out this revealing paper). It is often said in the surveillance studies community that meta-data is more revealing then data. meta-data isn’t merely unidentifiable and arbitrary. If it was, why on earth is it treated like the gold of the digital age?
Though Google and Facebook are certainly important and high quality tools, these issues are still exceedingly problematic and must be addressed. One reason we should be concerned is that we rely on these social media tools several times a day to maneuver through our social and cultural lives.
It isn’t just a corporate product anymore; it is an indispensable piece of social/cultural capital. Don’t believe me? Try to quit Facebook and/or Google—I bet you can’t. It is very difficult to engage productively in our communities without using what these corporations have to offer. These corporations are silently bleeding us dry of our privacy in order to establish high profit margins. And I am willing to bet that most people don’t know the extent of all of these injustices.
The more privacy that we allow these corporate entities to take from us, the more they will push to widen the gaping hole in our already transparent lives. This can be a terrifying prospect in terms of politics of freedom of speech and expression. You may not be hiding something now—but we all hide something eventually. And we have a right to do this. For an example, the right to obscure your sexuality. This is a touchy subject as the homophobic and heteronormative ideologies that lead to hate crimes tend to fluctuate. One day you are accepted for who you are, the next, you might be beaten to a pulp or socially stigmatized. You may lose your job. Your house. And in some terrible cases, your life. We need the right to hide. And we need the right to choose anonymity.
So what now? Don’t be so complacent. The tech-giants are simulating transparency without telling the whole story. They know very well that if their surveillance capacities are pulled into the spot light that they will be forced to change. But they also know very well that no one reads these documents anyways. And because no one reads them—they are left quite untouchable.
Technology and its surveillance capacities are constantly changing and improving. However, our laws and policies are not keeping up with this. It is why it is so important to speak-out and inform those around you. As academics, as citizens, and as consumers.
Pokémon Go is lulling the world in to a humungous augmented distraction. A distraction that is covering up some pretty intense politics. It is almost as if we stepped into Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One—where distraction through virtual reality meets the war between anonymity and surveillance.
It has been well publicized that this new app, of which is fueling a Pokemania (a nostalgic resurgence of interest in Pokémon every time a new rendition of the game is released), has some rather arbitrary and invasive access to your mobile phones data—particularly, unhinged access to your Google account and other features of your mobile device.
What is Pokémon Go? This almost seems pointless now, seeing the popularity of the game—but for those of you who have not tuned in to the pokemania. Pokémon was a TV show released in the late 90s, which became dream fuel for a generation of children and young adults. It featured a young boy, Ash Ketchum, who embarked on a Journey to capture Pokémon in a technology known as the “pokeball” through the direction of the Professor (A man who studies Pokémon). After the Pokémon is caught, the young boy (and the thousands of other Pokémon trainers) would aspire to train it to battle other Pokémon.
Shortly after the show caught on, Nintendo released Pokémon Red and Blue for the Gameboy Colour. These games became an absolute hit. I remember walking to school with my eyes glued to my little pixelated screen—traversing over roads and dodging cars while battling with Pokémon and trading them with my other schoolyard peers. The games slogan repeating through my cranial, “Gotta Catch Them All”.
Nintendo continued to release Pokémon games designed for their various game platforms up until present. Each successive game included an obsessive and nostalgic excitement that took over the gaming community. Or anyone who had grown up playing Pokemon Red and Blue, as well as collecting the Pokemon cards.
Pokémon Go is a game that can be played on a mobile smart phone that uses geolocational data and mapping technologies that turn the phone into a lens peering into the Pokémon world. Through the interface of your mobile device, you can catch Pokémon wandering the “real” world, battle through gyms, and find items that will aid your journey. It augments the world around the user so that everything and everywhere becomes a part of the game.
Just like its predessor, a game known as Ingress, many of the geo features in the game were set up around important places: art exhibits, cultural or historical sites, and parks. Following the maps would lead you through a productive tour of a cities geographical culture.
I want to explore the obsessive and nostalgic excitement through a techno-socio-cultural lens. I will unpack this critique into three parts: (1) the sociology of privacy, (2) Big data and algorithmic surveillance, and (3) the culture of nostalgia and the digital sublime.
Before I continue with this post—I want to assert that it is not an all-in-all terrible, megalomaniac, Big Brother type game. Pokémon Go is enabling new ways for people to engage in the social world. Check out this sociological blog post exploring just that. However, it would be silly to not apply a critical perspective to this.
There are some restrictions I’d like to apply to my analysis: (1) Pokémon Go is not an immature or irrelevant activity, millions of people of all ages and cultural backgrounds are playing it—meaning it has a ton of significance. As well as, (2) The people playing Pokémon Go are not zombies or passive consumers, they are very intentional and unpredictable social actors that have the ability to understand their situation.
Sociology of Privacy
One thing that boggles the minds of surveillance studies scholars is how the vast population of people using social media and mobile applications do not care about invasive surveillance embedded in everything they use.
In my own interviews of Facebook users in 2014, many of my participants claimed, “I have nothing to hide”. A pervasive mentality that enables big corporate and governmental entities to gain access and control to large swaths of data. This nonchalant attitude towards surveillance allows for massive ground in the dismantling of our rights to privacy. Though such an attitude is not surprising, as the entire ecosystem of social media is set up to surveil.
David Lyon, in his book “Surveillance After Snowden”, asserts that privacy is generally seen as a natural and democratic right that should be afforded to all citizens—but admits that a problem lay in that informational privacy is not as valued as bodily or territorial privacy. Even if information, data, and metadata are much more revealing than the both bodily and territorial surveillance.
Lyon notes three important points about privacy that are all very relevant to the current epidemic of pokemania: 1) the collecting of information has now been directly connected to risk mitigation and national security, implying that we are not safe unless we are surveilled. 2) Everyone is now a target of mass surveillance, not just the criminal. 3) Data collected through mass surveillance is made to create profiles of people—these may be completely inaccurate depending on the data collected, but you will never know the difference.
I would like to add a fourth. How can the data be used to swing massive profits? The corporation Niantic, creators of Ingress and Pokémon Go, use their privacy policies to legitimate “sharing” (sic: selling) of data with governments and third party groups. Government surveillance is often the focus of criticism. However, capitalist corporations are not often held accountable to ethical practices. Who is selling this data? Who is buying this data? And what is this monetized data being used for?
As Lyon asserts, Privacy is not about individual concerns—it is important socially and politically for a well-balanced democracy. Edward Snowden has been known to say, “It’s not really about surveillance, it’s about democracy”. While we continue to allow powerful groups to chip away at our privacy for entertainment, we literally give up our ability to criticize and challenge injustice.
Snowden reminds us that when we give up our democracy to the control room—there is zero accountability, zero transparency, and decisions are made without any democratic process.
So while we are distracted trying to catch a Snorlax at the park, we are giving away more and more of our lives to mysterious and complicated groups that want nothing but large profits and control. For a much more scathing review of this, see this blog post on surveillance and Pokémon.
Big Data and Algorithms
So what about the data. What is big data? First off, it’s all the craze right now. As data scientists, social scientists, policy makers, and business gurus scramble to understand how to use, abuse, and criticise such a thing. Big data is consistent of two large disciplines—statistics and computer science. It is the collection and analysis of unthinkably large amounts of aggregated data that is collected and analyzed largely by computer software and algorithms.
Boyd and Crawford (2012) offer a much more precise definition. They assert that Big Data is a “cultural, technological, and scholarly phenomenon” that can be broken into three interconnected features:
Technology – Computer science, large servers, and complicated algorithms.
Analysis – Using large data-sets compiled from technological techniques to create social, political, cultural and legal claims.
Mythology – Widespread belief of the power of Big Data to offer a superior knowledge that carries immense predictive value.
The big problem that remains is how to find, generate, and collect all of this data? In terms of social media and video games much of this has to do with offering a “free” service to consumers who take the role of the “prosumer”. The prosumer is a social actor that both produces and consumes the commodity they are “paying” for.
In terms of social media (like Facebook), while users interact with each other, they are producing affective or emotional data through liking things, sharing things, and discussing things, that are then collected by algorithms and fed back into the system through targeting advertisements. The user is implicit in both the production and consumption of that data.
The user is given free access to the social media platform, however, they pay for it through giving the platform a transparent window into their lives that is than monetized and sold for large profits. People’s reactions to this form of surveillance are variant: some people offer scathing criticisms, others don’t give two shits, and some act a little more cautious.
Why is this important for Pokémon Go? Because you trade your data and privacy for access to what Pokémon Go has to offer. It is incredibly clever of think tanks in Niantic—using the nostalgic Pokemania to usher users into consenting to ridiculous surveillance techniques.
It gets worse. As Ashley Feinberg from Gawker identified, the people responsible for Niantic have some shady connections to the international intelligence community. Causing some in the surveillance studies field to fear that Pokémon might just be an international intelligence conspiracy (It sounds crazy—but it makes complete sense).
David Murakami Wood coined to the concept of “vanishing surveillance”. This is a phenomenon, intentional and unintentional, that allows surveillance capacities in devices to fade into the background. Resulting in users not being aware, or at least completely aware, that they are being watched. Pokémon Go, an innocent video game that is enabling new ways of being social in public, becomes an invisible surveillance device that may have international and interpersonal consequences. And it is the Pokémon themselves that allow for the surveillance to vanish from sight and mind.
A Culture of Nostalgia
So what drives people to consent to all of this? What kinds of cultural patterns allow and shape us to an almost fanatical state when a Pokémon game is released?
The first factor within the culture of Pokémon is its appeal to nostalgia. Jared Miracle, in a blog post on The Geek Anthropologist, talks about the power of nostalgia. It taps into the childhoods of an entire generation—it even moves outside the obscure boundaries of gamer culture into the larger pop cultural context. It wasn’t only geeks that played Pokémon. It was just about everyone. This might provide an explanation to why so many people are wandering around with their cell phones before them (I’ve seen them wandering around Queen’s campus today, while I was also wandering around).
However, it is not all about nostalgia. I believe that the nostalgia plays a role in a bigger process of the digital sublime and the mythologizing of the power of media.
What is a mythology? According to Vincent Mosco, in his book The Digital Sublime, defines myth as, “stories that animate individuals and societies by providing paths to transcendence that lift people out of the banality of everyday life”. This is a form of reality that represent how people see the world from the every-day-life perspective.
Myths are also implicit in power. “’Myth’ is not merely an anthropological term that one might equate with human values. It is also a political term that inflects human values with ideology… Myths sustain themselves when they are embraced by power, as when legitimate figures… tell them and, in doing so, keep them alive”.
These myths, along with nostalgia for Pokémon paraphernalia, generate the digital sublime. A phenomenon that has us go head over heals for new technology. The mythologies that support it can be positive or negative.
Positive mythologies might sound a little like this: “Pokémon Go is allowing us to leave our homes and experience the world! We meet new people and we are empowered by new ways of interacting with each other. Hurrah!”.
Negative Mythologies are also important: “Pokémon Go is creating a generation of zombies. People are wasting their time catching those stupid Pokémon. They are blindly and dangerously wandering around, falling off cliffs, and invading private property. Damn those immature assholes”.
Both of these mythologies cross over each other to colour the experiences of those who play and those who watch.
We need to be careful of generating mythologies about the capacity for games to facilitate freedom, creativity, and sociality. We also need to be careful not to apply to much criticism. Such mythologies not only create a basic, overly simplistic way of understanding gaming, surveillance, and human culture, it also blinds us to nuance and detail that may be important in its broad understanding.
Drawing things together—A Political Economy of Pokémon
Taking a techno-socio-cultural perspective allows us to engage with Pokémon Go with a nuanced understanding of its positive and negative characteristics. It is possible to look at how this media creates a complex ecosystem of social concerns, political controversies, and cultural engagements with nostalgia, mythologizing, and capitalist enterprise.
Pokémon Go is indeed enabling a ton of new ways of interacting and helping people with mental illness get out of their homes to experience the world—however, we can’t forget that it is also an advance technology developed by those who have interest in money and power.
Regardless of the benefits that are emerging from use of this application, there are still important questions about privacy and the collection and use of Big Data.
So Pokemon Go isn’t just enabling new ways of being social with the larger world. It is enabling new ways of engaging with issues of surveillance, neo-liberal capitalism, and social control through the least expected avenues.
After all of these problematics become more and more public—will we still trade off our freedom for entertainment?