Tom Boellstorff,in
Coming of Age in Second Life: An
Anthropologist Explores the Virtually Human, investigates the implications
of living in what he terms the Age of Techne and its effects on identity and
culture. Boellstorff describes the
design and purpose of his research highlighting the appropriateness of ethnography
as a method which mirrors the project he is undertaking. By “virtualizing” himself and inserting his
avatar in Second Life he goes above and beyond Malinowski’s injunction to “imagine yourself” in an
unfamiliar place. In this investigation
he intends to show that, contrary to prior research, “Second Life culture is
profoundly human. It is not only that
virtual worlds borrow assumptions from real life; virtual worlds show us how,
under our very noses, our “real” lives have been “virtual” all along. It is in being virtual that we are human:
since it is human “nature” to experience life through the prism of culture,
human being has always been virtual being” (5). Is this an accurate comparison?
Does culture mediate actual words in a way synonymous with the mediation of a
virtual world? To further delve into this complicated relationship between identity
and the virtual world, Boellstorff examines three aspects of Second Life in
particular: place, time and personhood.
Far
from diminishing the importance of place, Boellstorff highlights the ways that
conceptions and predominance of place and visuality which predate the emergence
of virtual worlds are transferred into Second Life. For instance, he notes the uproar and
argument over the visual blight of Zazzy’s store. Residents of Second life care
about the appearance of their surroundings and wish to avoid any marring of
their visual field, concerns which are common to actual world encounters even
prior to Second Life. This is just one
symptom of the condition of virtual worlds both reflecting and going beyond
aspects of the actual world. Boellstorff
remarks how very “real” second life real estate is in economic terms while simultaneously
noting a departure from actual world constraints with an increasing the amount
of available land, undercutting and complicating the actual world problem of
scarcity. The idea of place is further
complicated with the introduction of virtual virtual landscapes such as the one
Boellstorff describes encountering with Rhed, a large box, hundreds of meters
in the air, depicting countryside scenes.
Complications such as these, according to Boellstorff “demonstrate the
need for a theoretical framework that acknowledges the truly novel implications
of virtual worlds without predicating their significance on their being
different from the actual world” (101).
Boellstorff
marks a distinction between time and place in that time resists virtualization
in a way that place does not. This
resistance is necessary however, to allow for synchronic sociality. This was a key factor in making worlds seem
like “worlds” as the majority of social interaction occurred between residents “inworld”
at the same time. It did however cause
some problems, primarily with regards to what residents termed lag. Boellstorff posits that “lag reveals how a
problem with notions like “time/space compression” is that time resists
compression in a way that place does not; the death of distance” does not
correspond to a death of time” (102). Time in virtual worlds further undermined
theoretical perspectives in the context of Afk (away from keyboard). Traditionally, presence and immersion were
two commonly used terms in scholarly literature on online sociality. With Afk, one’s avatar could be “present”
while the user was “away”, thus “Afk ethnographically demonstrates the
possibility - indeed, the ubiquity- of presence
without immersion. This decoupling of
presence and immersion – the appearance of a gap between them – is one hallmark
of the virtual” (112). What does it mean for one to be present but not
immersed? What does this mean for sociality? Can it be fully excused by the
unique cultural practices acknowledged by residents of virtual worlds?
In his
discussion of personhood, Boellstroff describes the difficulty in determining
what constitutes the “real” person (is SL roleplay?, is the actual world role
play and SL a reflection of a truer self?, is participation in SL making the
actual more real?, etc.). Boellstorff
concludes that “just as it is possible to take virtual worlds in their own
terms, so it is possible to take virtual personhoods in their own terms. In both cases, the virtual is shaped in
powerful ways by referential and practical relationships to the actual world,
but these relationships help constitute the virtual self” (122). Taking them on their own terms however
becomes difficult when questions arise as to the meaning of outward appearance
in a world where physicality is completely malleable and users can control
multiple avatars, multiple users can control the same avatar or users can have
any number of alternate avatars or alts.
Boellstorff challenges “any ‘supposition conflating online interaction
with bodily transcendence’ and argue[s] for the reality of virtual embodiment”
(134). Gender, race, and disabilities
all had implications in Second Life. While
one’s embodiment was not fixed it was still not free from consequences in the
virtual world whether they were positively allowing for individuals with
disabilities a wider social network unattainable in the actual world or
negatively depicting racial stereotypes with last name selections, buildings,
or user creations.
Boellstorff
mentioned frequently the need to take the virtual world on its own terms as
related to, but separate from, the actual world. Do you think it is possible to understand it
in this way? Is the virtual world really a separate entity or does the overlap
and actual world implications negate that possibility? He also drew on the debate over the
utilization of voice capabilities in Second Life, noting that some thought that
the feature would make interactions more “real” while others believed it would
destroy the sociality of the virtual world.
What do you think? What makes virtual interaction fulfilling? Would
using voice instead of something like IMs destroy that? As an adjunct to that debate, Boellstorff
mentions the opportunity virtual sociality provides for individuals with
disabilities. To what degree should such considerations factor into the design
of virtual worlds like Second Life? Should their interests in particular be
considered because of the unique opportunities such an experience affords
them? Lastly, Boellstorff discusses globalization
and the linking of users worldwide in a common social space. Is this a positive
means of connection? What are the
implications of such widespread use, especially with regards to time and synchronous
sociality?
9 comments:
Prior to reading the selections from Boellstorff’s book, I found myself among the camp of negative interpreters who, having no experience with virtual worlds, view them as “escapism from the actual world,” and who take the physical world we perceive with our bodies as unmediated and the computer system as an “alien” that intrudes on this “unmediated experience”. I found Boellstorff’s rebuttal, that this negative assumption “fails to appreciate how human experience is always culturally mediated,” rather compelling. In response to Stephanie’s question, “does culture mediate actual worlds in a way synonymous with the mediation of virtual worlds,” I feel that it does. The fact that we have never been without culture, while the inception of virtual worlds is relatively recent however, makes it difficult to see this similarity in mediation.
I found the discussion of voice capabilities and the debate over whether the introduction of this feature would “destroy the fantasy” or lead to more intimacy especially interesting as it related to my initial misgivings about Second Life. Those who opposed voice capabilities pointed out that “voice chat is an extension of rl; as a reminder of rl stuff some people would rather leave behind.” A quote from Bartle and Castronova also illuminated the idea that introducing voice a.k.a. reality into a virtual world would cause it to become no longer a virtual world but rather an “adjunct to the real world”, and that “voice is reality.” The idea that the creation of this “direct” link to the actual world would disrupt the virtual nature of Second Life was puzzling to me because residents did not deem the visual representations, (textures and skins) based off actual world features, and physical phenomena such as actual-world time, “real” enough to be problematic. Also, the reasons for not introducing voice seemed to point out “escapist” attitudes, as those who wished to continue with text-chat communication did not want aspects of “actual” life to infiltrate their virtual worlds. How is voice different from the other actual world features that residents accepted in Second Life? What is irredeemably “actual” about voice that cannot coincide with the functions of Second Life? It seemed as though many residents were worried not only about the infiltration of something too actual, but also about the probability that voicechat would fragment the social world of Second Life. I fail to see however, how this fragmentation of people into groups that do or do not utilize voicechat is any different than the splitting into subcultures that “naturally” occurs within the Second Life world.
--Sarah Schulman
In response to Stephanie’s question of if culture mediates actual words in a way synonymous with the mediation of a virtual world,” I believe it does for same reason Boelstorff points out. As he mentions even in ethnography, anthropologists such as Malinowski in his book asked you to "imagine yourself" in a new place, “to be virtually there…Malinowski’s injunction to "imagine yourself" in an unfamiliar place underscores how anthropology has always been about avatarizing the self, standing virtually in the shoes (or on the shores) of another culture” (6). In this sense and throughout life we are constantly living in a virtual world when we imagine, from childhood “pretending” to thinking of ideas and perspectives as adults. It is important to note that our idea of “virtual” is being challenged in this book as Boelstorff mentions “one goal of this book's analysis is to argue for a rehabilitation and refinement of ‘virtual’" (17). I personally believe the only difference is that SL has seemed to physically mediate this form of imagining to a computer format, allowing the user’s imagination to be expressed while at the same time now limiting it.
I also agree with Boelstorff’s method of going about his research and noticed that I, as well as others, have used a similar method to go about my anthropology video. Given there may be limitations as the reading and Steph point out to this method of interviewing, but I think the emphasis is on that frequent mentioning by Boelstorff for the need to take the virtual world on its own terms as related to, but separate from, the actual world. Steph questions whether it is possible to understand SL (or for that matter any anthropological subject) in this way. There are obviously pros and cons to this method. While a viewer who is unfamiliar with the subject at hand might not understand all of the material presented, I believe it is the most appropriate method as it is the ultimate way of emerging and imagining one’s self as a native (or user) of the material being studied. If Boelstorff had done in person interviews, we may not have received the same impression of what SL is and how people use it in the numerous ways that they do. This seems to stress the idea of trying to understanding a culture without diluting or interfering through one’s own perspective and thoughts. By interviewing people on SL and giving an account of his interactions, Boelstorff is able to get a more accurate representation of SL culture and experience and able to present it to us in the most understandable way possible (even though the reader may not fully understand the material after it is presented). For example I do not believe I would have understood the amount of feeling users invest in SL if I did see Samuel’s reaction to Zazzy’s store (89-91).
Boellstorff’s “need to take the virtual world on its own terms” is valid, but difficult to execute because what in fact defines its own terms is based on real world conditions; it is the presence of real world rules that enable conditions in the virtual world to be classified as foreign, different, unattainable- or virtual. “The virtual must be defined as strictly a part of the real.” (21) A term such a lag, the delayed expression of thoughts into the virtual world, is entirely based on the concept of time and is therefore only an extension of real world conditions. This exemplifies how and why Boellstorff does not distinguish the actual and virtual too greatly.
This ties into the notion of speaking during Second Life. I do not think that it negates the virtual aspect of Second Life. The world is still virtual. If anything, I think that speaking would only further engage players to make them feel further removed from reality and more immersed. Hearing a voice, speaking to another person, and interacting with them is much more personal than writing a message. For people that seek that kind of personal reaction, that would be very appealing for making Friends and seeking to form a network within the game. Further, making voice interaction an option could help players to understand people’s motives for play. It is clear that not everyone would enjoy having the voice option if it disrupts their purpose for entering the virtual world. Players can take on numerous roles- from a “tiny chipmunk, elf, or voluptuous women.” (8) Each role speaks to why that person uses Second Life in the first place. The visibility of communication preference could show exactly how social a player wished to be at a particular time and it could help players avoid social uncertainty or awkwardness.
The final question about the implications of widespread use is an interesting one. Undoubtedly, these virtual worlds, such as Second Life or World of Warcraft, are connecting people globally at virtual and real world levels. Certainly subcultures and groups of players exist within in the world, but each player is unified in their common identity as a Second Life participant. I’m not sure how we can measure how this translates into the real world. At a microlevel, interactions can extend into real life conversation. People can meet each other, get married, and have children after meeting during a virtual game. At a macro level, how do we come to understand how much this game influences player’s understanding and perception of human connection? And how does this translate into their own real world human interactions?
Boellstorff talks about creating his own avatar and how important ethnography is. This is all explained in talking about a virtual life that he believes in. I believe that this can be valid in what certain people believe, but is difficult to believe as it does not have any real life implications.
I believe that culture has alot to do with peoples cultures and understanding of the SL. Some people who have dealt with a studied the subject may have a better understanding. I agree with kate in that this virtual world is diffcult to grasp because of the fact that seeing message is alot different that hearing someone speak or communicate. Speaking and communicating in person allows for emotions to be shown and is easier to grasp if there are certain comments made and sarcasm may be involved.
An example of this is world of warcraft. People get involved in this game and play for years and years as a certain character. This isa character they make how they want and add their own kind of personality to it. They can also interact with other characters in the virtual world as if it were real life, they just visualize it on a computer screen. I dont think it would be anywhere close to feeling like real communication to me but it is an example of this virtual world and second life that is being talked about.
I find the lead poster’s question about the difference between presence and immersion very interesting. Enabling a status like “Afk” or “away from keyboard” relates back to our discussion on the politics of representation. The ability to label oneself “Afk” is a way to virtually differentiate your avatar in a virtual world from your body in the real world; it assigns a label to your virtual self that directly corresponds back to your physical self. Although Boellestorff argues, “It is in being virtual that we are human,” I think the so-called “lags” contradict this point (5). In being human, we allow ourselves to exist as virtual within certain parameters. Our responsibilities as humans force us to represent our avatars as “Afk”. While our avatars can exist in a certain capacity without our human selves, it is not the same. Virtual reality relies on actual reality, which makes it difficult to support the claim, “It is in being virtual that we are human” outside of the author’s comparison between virtual world and secondary culture.
Furthermore, the idea of avatars or virtual selves existing in a Second Life reminds me of our discussion on Facebook profiles. With Facebook, each user is able to craft his or her profile to showcase the best version of him or herself. There are limits, however, to this “ability” – limits of the actual person. Posting a picture of a different person, for example, is not a valid representation of oneself. In comparison to a Second Life, an avatar showcases the ability to experience things virtually that one is unable to experience in real life. There are similar Facebook-like limits in this scenario. As Boellstorff explains, “even when place becomes virtual, time remains actual” (105). In other words, you can misrepresent yourself within reason because eventually life will get in the way. Actual time has to step in.
Referring back to Kate’s point about speaking during Second Life, while I understand her point about speaking making people feel more immersed, I wonder in what ways speaking could ruin the immersion. While I do not have much experience with Second Life or games like World of Warcraft, I think about friends of mine playing the video game Halo. Granted these figures are not representations of themselves, but they are virtual selves being controlled by a human self. In Halo – and presumably other X-box games – there is a possibility to talk over headsets to your opponents. When my friends play, they always turn down the volume or turn off voice capability. This is key for them, because hearing the voice of their opponents makes them think about what the human self looks like rather than focusing on the virtual characters. In this situation, communication does not further the immersion in the game; rather, it distances them.
I, like Jillian, also found the afk/presence/immersion topic interesting. Afk users are typically tending to “real world” embodiment tasks such that they are present in SL but no longer immersed. Boellstorff says, “No one came to Second Life so that they could go afk.” He later claims, “Residents sometimes said they wished they could ‘go afk’ in the actual world to escape uncomfortable situations, but knew this was not possible.” He says that afk is distinctive to virtual worlds, but what if we took it to mean a general shifting of presence from one world to the other; not just virtual to real but real to virtual as well. Boellstorff says that no real world phenomena can be likened to afk, but isn’t “living” on SL doing just that? More so than plugging into an iPod, daydreaming, or sleeping? By immersing oneself in a different (second) life such that they won’t have to go back to real life, or afk? Maybe a different term is necessary… afrl, away from real life, but if it’s true that no one came to Second Life so that they could go afk, then aren’t those people seeking an “afrl”? While I understand that there is no way to physically leave one’s body in the actual world, I think that the intense immersion that happens in SL is as close to afrl as one can get.
After reading Paulina's post, I think that the "afk" status in real life can be considered the switch from real to virtual; one is leaving their "real" life and logging onto their "virtual" life in Second Life. This is scary to me because, who can say your virtual life is not your "real" life, if that was what how you wanted to live? I suppose you could say you are the person behind your avatar in Second Life, and your avatar can not be the person behind you in your "real" life. But you can definitely get more attached to one life over another, as in with the uproar and concern that comes about over something like Zazzy's store. It's not just an image or a game, there are feelings of investment and attachment to the images and the figures involved in SL. I think this may be the difference between presence and immersion: feelings of attachment and belonging.
Sorry for the late post-- I got the Tuesday and Thursday bit confused this week.
I really enjoyed today's discussion on Second Life. The complicated interplay between immersion and presence was really interesting. When thinking of an avatar, its presence can be constant, while its immersion can be varying greatly from second to second. Whether you are afk, or someone else is using your avatar, it seems like it would be difficult to fully trust and build relationships within second life, because the consistency of embodiment of those using the program is hard to verify. This same aspect is what gives Second Life its freeing capacity. People can totally let go of expectations from the "real world" and be whoever they want to be at that moment. Though the question becomes complicated as we try to understand what role an avatar actually plays on our identity, the ability to have an avatar allows for certain boundaries to be pushed in an innovative, and arguably safer way. The freedom of SL allows even the quietest person to become a wild child, or like Pavia, for someone to understand their gender identity. It made me think of this link that I had seen about prostitution in Second Life.
http://www.slatev.com/video/vice-capades-virtual-hooker/
Obviously, it seems logical that a virtual universe would contain some sort of sexuality, but it is odd that such intimate actions are being performed on Second Life. At what point do you still need a physical body to enjoy sex? For these SL users, is virtual sex enough to replace real life sex? It raises an interesting question about our physical disconnect, but also total immersion into the virtual realm.
I also apologize for my late post, I also got a bit confused with this week’s schedule.
On Paulina’s post on presence and immersion, she mentions plugging in an iPod as a way of shifting one’s presence from one world to another, and I would like to expand on this interesting connection between ‘afk’ in virtual worlds like second life and the ‘bubble’ one can create around oneself using an iPod as we discussed during the iPod lecture. In his book “Sound Moves: iPod Culture and Urban Experience”, Michael Bull talks in depth about the auditory bubble that one can form around oneself, in which one can reject invitations for socialization by ignoring and pretending one did not hear, or accept by taking out one’s earphones. I cannot help but to connect this real-life phenomena to the “presence without immersion” concept that Boellstoff refers to in relation to going afk.
In both cases, there is an isolated world in which one can create by plugging in your iPod or leaving your keyboard, and in both cases there is the possibility of ignoring another person without repercussion due to the normal social mores about disregarding a person trying to talk to you. In both cases, it is possible to reply to and acknowledge the person, by either taking off one’s earbuds when listening to an iPod or typing a response in the virtual world (which automatically takes one out of ‘ark’ mode).
One of the most salient differences between these phenomena (besides the medium of course) is illustrated by this quote from the Boellstorff book: “it was possible for persons who had been afk to catch up on a conversation from which they had been actually absent but virtually present”. Such a log of proximate utterances is not accessible to the iPod user, and thus most conversations that happen when the iPod ‘bubble’ is burst begin with “hmm?” or “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you”. Can you think of any more ways these two phenomena compare or contrast?
Post a Comment