Posted on by ijeomaopara

Like Sand Through the Hourglass And Other Amusing Realisations

Here we are, six months later…what has changed?  

Well… life has been a rollercoaster OF NOTE.  

The past six months have felt like three years almost, as I’ve been evolving rapidly without so much of a chance to recalibrate authentically. Academically, things have been progressing in an interesting way; I presented at two international conferences in June, and have had some of the most amazing networking opportunities within my field. The first conference I attended was the London School of Economics Media Futures Conference, where I presented parts of a working chapter. The second one was hosted by the Stellenbosch Business School on Gender, Work and Organisation, and I co-facilitated a workshop on feminist activism in the academy with my supervisor Professor Amanda Gouws. On paper, it feels like I’m doing the right things to make sure my academic career is on track, but I can’t help but feel like there is some level of stagnancy that’s preventing me from pushing myself like I normally do.  

My personal life has also been topsy-turvy, and I have been going through the motions of true grief for the first time in the 28 years of my life. The phrase ‘nothing lasts forever’ has taken on a completely different meaning, as losing people is something that is always hard to deal with. It’s also part of the reason why my vlog this month has taken on a somewhat abstract format, where I focused more on showing what the days in my life have looked like recently, as opposed to a linear, cookie-cutter ‘day in my life’.

For some reason, it felt disingenuous to set up my camera, press record and pretend to wake up and put together a routine that seemed void of flaws. My days really have felt like a case of jumping across different universes, almost like that movie Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022).To be completely honest, my ethics application has been a source of frustration since the beginning of the year, impacting my creative flow. While I understand the importance of due process and acknowledge the validity of concerns, it’s led me to question the worthiness of pursuing my research in the first place. Which really sucks.  

However, I’ve taken steps to address this. I’ve recently gained a mentor from the African Feminist Initiative at UPenn, Professor Tarez Graban. Our first session together was incredibly affirming, reigniting my belief in the value of my work. Naturally, I have the support of my supervisor and co-supervisor. Still, without a clear sense of direction in my work, it becomes difficult to communicate expectations if I am in a period of struggling with where to draw strength from. At the end of the day, this PhD will be completed. Every day that brings me closer to the finish line may not look the same, but it’s part of the bigger picture. And we’re never alone in this journey, always supported by those around us. 

Almost there.  

Posted on by leahjunck

The ones left behind

Last week, I cycled past a bus reading ‘5G – don’t get left behind’ on its back. This very bus drives through Cape Town’s city centre and its more affluent suburbs, but also transports many workers who come in from low-income areas. The message bothered me. It was there for to sell a product and thus not necessarily meant to convey a meaningful message. Still, it did echo assumptions that I find to be prominent in discussions on digital media and technological developments more broadly.

For one thing, there is the premise that there will be an improved humanity with an increasing access to information. Information flows tend to be almost religiously celebrated as having supreme value in and of themselves (also referred to as dataism), as being inherently progressive, and as levelling social playing fields.

Presenting technisation as a lofty ideal or a superior mode of being to achieve rather than something created from a particular vantage point effectively veils the authoritative regimes of the technological revolution we currently witness. This includes the cultures and values embedded in tech products. Very few women and people of colour are hired in tech industries, leading to the development of problematic algorithms.[1] Even more problematically, designs and codes are presented as neutral and gender- and colour-blind, much like the employment politics in bis tech.[2]

Adding to their opacity is the fact that tech products are often portrayed as independent actors. Power relations precipitating unequal access to resources that tie in with social, economic and educational developments are, consequently, neatly brushed under the discursive carpet. Framing access as a matter of capability and choice (reach it, grab it – or else get left behind) rather than something that forms part of a historical development supports the prioritisation of the needs of some while the experiences of others (those who cannot reach) are rendered even less visible and relevant for imagined futures.

In Cape Town, where the geographic, economic and social divisions of Apartheid are notoriously persistent, the ‘don’t get left behind’ paradigm seems particularly cynical. It foreshadows an even more unequal future and places the responsibility for ‘being left behind’ onto individuals unable, for example, to invest in 5G products. This form of exclusion severs itself from problematic histories of divisions and portrays the ones to come as both evitable (ones can make the “right” choices and catch up with tech) and as an inescapable future of insiders and outsiders – much like the narratives of numerous sci-fi plots.

Why sci-fi could be the secret weapon in China's soft-power arsenal | Financial Times

It was throughout my studying Tinder that I grew increasingly intrigued by what lies behind the shiny, promising exteriors of technologies and artificial intelligence (AI). This is why I want to continue studying their impact on our well-being, social identities, politics, economies and demographic developments. Something I am very curious about is the role of algorithms in how we as their users come to understand ourselves, the world around us, and how we relate to others. I’m especially interested in the impacts of technologies on relationships of trust.

The more I read about AI more broadly, the more I find myself getting irritated with its overly positivistic representations. Especially when people like Amazon CO Jeff Bezos shamelessly flaunt their extraordinary wealth by taking a quick trip to space in a phallic-shaped rocket – and making some extra cash by selling spare seats to similarly wealthy people.

When products like the new Tesla humanoid robot named Optimus are developed and when Amazon’s AI assistant Alexa seems to have learned a little too much about your habits, it is useful to think back to Bezos’s phallus-shaped rocket – just as a memento of how the products we are sold as progressive are anything but neutral, nor are they necessarily designed for our needs. While there are well-intentioned inventions (especially in the medical field), AI and big tech should not be treated as inherently superior approaches to human sense-making but rather as complementing it if well-developed. This is because tech solutions are not “semi-sentient” as ultrarich AI-enthusiast Elon Musk promises his new human-replacement robot to be and they only have the “sense” of morality that has been encoded in them.

If left unchecked, the trajectory of dataism may very well be to the detriment of humanism. Thankfully, this is not a sci-fi movie or a zero-sum game. We are in a position in which we can still decide just how to handle these seemingly inevitable developments that are sprung on us from silicon-valley and co. We can contextualise and look at them as the political and socially momentous projects that they are. “Don’t get left behind” messages in this context should serve as a wake-up call. But instead of letting them induce panic and self-questioning as the advertisers appear to intend, we should treat it as a reminder to consider people at the margins and designing appropriate interventions instead of placing blame in the most inappropriate ways.

[1] For more on this, read D’ignazio, C. and Klein, L.F., 2020. Data feminism. MIT Press.

[2] See Noble, S.U., 2018. Algorithms of oppression. New York University Press.