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Performative Males vs. Performative Media

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The word performative circulates widely in our current society. It appears in online discourse, political commentary, and everyday conversations, often used to criticize shallow or insincere behaviour. In its common definition, the Oxford English Dictionary describes performative as: “Of action, speech, behaviour, etc.: done or expressed for the sake of appearance, especially to impress others or to improve one’s own image, typically with the implication of insincere intent or superficial impact.” This meaning focuses on the surface, and insinuates something staged, hollow, and self-serving. This meaning has become even more visible through contemporary memes, especially the “performative male” trend spreading through contemporary social media. These videos mock exaggerated male displays of tailored “feminine” habits, suggesting that certain gendered behaviours exist mainly as performances for a desired audience. However, when introduced in media studies through Bollmer’s Materialist Media Theory, the concept of performance takes on a very different meaning. Instead of describing behaviour done “for show,” Bollmer argues that media perform the world, and have a direct effect on our thoughts, behaviours, and actions. Rather than focusing on the intention, he examines how media shapes what becomes possible in experience and in social life (Bollmer, 2019, pp. 7–14). This contrast opens an important space for media theory, by proving that words do not carry stable meanings across contexts. When a term like performative crosses between popular culture and theory, it lands differently and shifts in significance. By examining these shifts, we gain a clearer understanding of how media produce, condition, and intervene in human action. Under this framework, performativity is not about appearances, but about material consequences.

What does it mean to be performative?

The Oxford Dictionary definition frames performative as a critique. When we say someone’s activism, fashion sense, or interests are “performative,” we imply their behaviour and identity revolves around self-branding for the purpose of impressing others. The same applies to social media: a post can be performative if it signals virtue or outrage without genuine commitment. This meaning depends on intentionality – a performative gesture is insincere because the actor intends to cultivate an appearance rather than effect real change. Bollmer challenges this intention-based thinking by arguing that we should analyze media not by what they represent, but by what they do. The main idea is that media produce realities through their operation. They play an active role in behaviour, identity, and social structures at the level of matter, code, infrastructure, and embodiment (Bollmer, 2019, pp. 20–24). This reframing connects to other theorists like Verbeek, who argues that technologies mediate human perception and action by amplifying some possibilities while reducing others (Verbeek, 2006, pp. 364–370). For Verbeek, the “intentions” of technology are embedded not in user consciousness but in the object’s inherent design, allowing them to guide and shape experience. Media perform through the affordances they create, the choices they structure, and the values they materialize. Taken together, Bollmer and Verbeek move us away from the idea that meaning is determined by the human user. Instead, they argue that true meaning emerges from interactions between humans and media environments. The performative concept becomes a tool that reveals how media act in the world and how they participate in shared life.

“Performative Male”: A Case Study

The recent caricature of the “Performative Male” offers a helpful cultural contrast. These memes exaggerate male behaviour by depicting specific tasks – drinking matcha, reading feminist literature, carrying Labubus – as elaborate displays of effort and identity. A “performative male” performs actions or participates in cultures mostly inhabited by women in an attempt to create a relatable energy. The joke lies in the clear theatrics of this performance:  obviously none of these behaviours are exclusive to women, but a man walking around in public with a barely-touched matcha, a Labubu clipped to his thrifted Carthharts, and Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex in a screen-printed tote bag mimics a peacock performing a mating dance. This meme reflects the Oxford Dictionary’s meaning. The performative male’s labour is exaggerated for the sake of appearance, and his entire identity becomes a performance piece. The humour works because the behaviour signals attention-seeking rather than genuine action. In this sense, the meme critiques performative masculinity and the inflated self-presentation that digital culture rewards. 

However, from Bollmer’s perspective, the meme itself reveals a deeper layer of performativity. It shows how platforms like TikTok and Instagram actively shape behaviour – content creators learn to exaggerate, dramatize, and stylize actions because the platform’s algorithm rewards visibility, clarity, and engagement bait. The meme becomes a product of platform performativity, and displays how media systems encourage and incentivize specific forms of conduct. The meme becomes an example of performativity not because the individual man is insincere, but because social media platforms’ architecture performs social expectations. Media environments materialize what counts as visible or valuable behaviour.

Performative in Media Creation

Understanding performative through both the Oxford Dictionary and Bollmer’s definitions enriches our media theory toolkit. The Oxford Dictionary’s definition helps us analyze cultural performance, signalling, and authenticity, whereas Bollmer’s definition helps us analyze how systems act, intervene, and materialize social relations. Together, they give us a multifaceted view of how meaning moves between people, technologies, and infrastructures. The concept also teaches us that media theory is not just about interpretation, it’s about tracing consequences. When we understand media as performative, we recognize that they are active participants in shaping human experience and are capable of producing emotions, habits, and forms of life – not just images or videos. In a digital landscape dominated by AI, algorithmic feeds, and platform-driven identities, this shift in understanding becomes essential. We can no longer ask only what media say, we must ask what media do.

Citations

Bollmer, G. (2019). Materialist media theory: An introduction. Bloomsbury Academic.

Oxford English Dictionary. (n.d.). Performative. In OED Online. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com

Verbeek, P.-P. (2006). Materializing morality: Design ethics and technological mediation. Science, Technology, & Human Values, 31(3), 361–380. https://doi.org/10.1177/0162243905285847

Critical Response

The Living Library: Mediating Morality in Books

In early October, Ela Chua published a response to Umberto Eco: A Library of the World and intertwined its themes with Tim Ingold’s Making. Though we have since moved past Eco’s work in our course, I continue to reflect on the combination of ideas that Ela illustrated. Most notably, the concepts of “vegetal memory” and physical media become newly relevant when seen through Bollmer and Verbeek’s insights on materializing media and morality.

Ela’s original post analyzes Umberto Eco: A Library of the World as a meditation on the relationship between media, materiality, and knowledge. She draws parallels between Eco’s physical engagement with books and Ingold’s concept of “making,” emphasizing that media are living things, not static objects. Her discussion of Eco’s notion of “vegetal memory” positions books as dynamic participants in collective knowledge rather than mere commodities. I would argue that Umberto Eco: A Library of the World represents one of the most pivotal moments in our course for connecting abstract concepts in media theory with tangible examples from material culture. Ela effectively reframes reading and archiving as material practices that blur the boundaries between mind, media, and memory, and while she beautifully captures the idea of a living and ever-changing archive, my recent engagement with Bollmer (2019) and Verbeek (2006) has inspired me to extend this conversation into the realm of design and mediation. Through their frameworks, I reinterpret Eco’s cherished books – and his broader “library of the world” – as a technological system that performs ethical and cognitive mediation, revealing how books themselves reconfigure and deliver information in ways that shape our collective morality and behaviour.

Ela adeptly presents Eco’s library as a living archive that mediates the relationship between media and memory, providing insights into how books shape thought, culture, and history. However, on a higher level, I argue that Eco’s “library of the world” acts as designed systems of mediation that directly influence a user’s perception of information and subsequent actions. Both Bollmer and Verbeek argue against the common misconception that media and technology are neutral, immaterial tools, and instead posit that technologies are deeply performative: they shape how we act, think, and relate to the world around us. Bollmer’s (2019) point of performative materialism states that in order to know what media are, the concentration should not be on the content that it presents but rather what actions they create in the material world. Verbeek echoes this sentiment through his concept of technological mediation, or the role of technology in human action (how we are present in their world) and human experience (how the world is present to us). For example, cataloguing systems such as the Dewey Decimal system or Eco’s personal organization shape what readers see as “related knowledge.” Bollmer (2019)’s idea that “relations of opposition and conflict” are inseparable from design’s performative agency (pp. 174–176) is relevant when we consider the political implications of archival organization, such as the separation of “national” and “local” history based on the dominant ethnic groups (Brown & Davis-Brown, 1998). The mediation in this technological system occurs not only through absorbing the content presented by the books themselves but through the way information is structured and retrieved. 

Eco’s focus on physical media and the surrounding space of library archives displays the unique expectations and material effects that translate from the archival system to human behaviour. Verbeek (2006) draws from Don Ihde’s notion that technologies have “intentions” embedded in their design to argue that media artifacts are able to influence moral human decisions. He introduces the concept of scripts, or implicit instructions that artifacts have immersed in their material design (p. 367). For example, books have the script “flip my pages slowly so they don’t rip”, and we follow this instruction because of what it signifies, not because of its material presence in the relation between humans and the world. This inherent prescription encourages ethical learning through slowness and touch. Bollmer’s concept of neurocognitive materialism (2019, pp. 171–175) highlights how the body, brain, and media form a single interactive system, and speak to the physical relationship Eco holds with his books. Eco demonstrates how media reconfigures human cognition and sensation with his refusal to put on gloves to preserve a book’s material, rather letting it decay, breathe, and live in its environment. In comparison to digital systems, the tangible experience that libraries create for users also directs certain actions and behaviours from its users. For example, a Google search flattens knowledge into relevance rankings and a convenient AI summary, whereas Eco’s physical search forces conscientiousness and slowness, changing the ethical and cognitive nature of how we “find” information. Eco’s books literally embody moral mediation by encouraging reflective engagement rather than passive consumption. Thus, it is clear that the library, as a system, trains perception and shapes patterns of thought just as modern interfaces (such as smartphone swipes) train behavioral habits. Overall, Verbeek and Bollmer stress that as media consumers and creators, we must recognize that these artifacts literally shape the embodied experience of being human.

This added perspective of design mediating morality shifts the conversation of media theory past the immaterial/material binary and a physical vs. digital debate to show that media, regardless of the form it takes, always performs important ethical work by shaping perception and behaviour. Overall, my own reflection has inspired some questions for us as media students and creators: how might digital design learn from Eco’s tactile ethics of reading? Can we design interfaces that nurture moral reflection rather than automate it? Whether through pages or pixels, designers and users alike participate in the ongoing ethical mediation of knowledge. As Bollmer (2019) concludes, “If we want to create a better world, we have to begin with what matters.” 

Citations:

Bollmer, G. (2019). Materialist media theory: An introduction. Bloomsbury Academic.

Brown, R. H., & Davis-Brown, B. (1998). The making of memory: The politics of archives, libraries and museums in the construction of national consciousness. History of the Human Sciences, 11(4), 17–32. https://doi.org/10.1177/095269519801100402

Ingold, T. (2013). Making: Anthropology, archaeology, art and architecture. Routledge.

Ferrario, D. (Director). (2022). Umberto Eco: A library of the world [Film]. Stefilm, Altara Films.

Verbeek, P.-P. (2006). Materializing morality: Design ethics and technological mediation. Science, Technology, & Human Values, 31(3), 361–380. https://doi.org/10.1177/0162243905285847

Critical Comparison

The Invisible Interface: Materializing Morality in Media Design

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In Materialist Media Theory: An Introduction and Materializing Morality, both Bollmer and Verbeek argue that media and technology play a performative and biased role in influencing human actions and the world. Though written almost 20 years apart, both pieces share critical concerns that can be productively examined through a relevant design-centered foundation. The Double Diamond Design Process, developed by the British Design Council in 2005, provides a fitting and contemporarily relevant lens for this comparison. Consisting of four iterative stages—Discover, Define, Develop, and Deliver—the Double Diamond represents the cyclical research, prototyping, and evaluation phases of designing a product or experience. Through this framework, I position both theorists as offering insight into the ethical and material conditions of design, and all of us as designers who must understand and critically navigate the systems we create and inhabit.

The 4 Ds of the Double Diamond design-thinking model (Discover, Define, Develop, Deliver). From Dwass, S. (2023, January 30).

In the Discover phase, designers start by researching and reframing challenges through human needs and contextual insights (Design Council, 2019). Bollmer and Verbeek both provide extensive research to argue against the common misconception that media and technology are neutral, immaterial tools. Instead, they argue that technologies are deeply performative—they shape how we act, think, and relate to the world around us. Bollmer’s (2019) point of performative materialism states that in order to know what media are, the concentration should not be on the content that it presents but rather what actions they create in the material world. Verbeek echoes this sentiment through his concept of technological mediation, or the role of technology in human action (how we are present in their world) and human experience (how the world is present to us). A clear example of this is eyeglasses: the user’s focus is not on the glasses themselves but rather the world they reveal and the visual experience that they mediate – the tool becomes an extension of the body and human life (Verbeek, 2006, p. 365). To exemplify this, both scholars reference philosopher Martin Heidegger notion of “readiness-in-hand”: tools disappear into the background of use until they malfunction and become present-at-hand (Heidegger, as cited in Verbeek, 2006, p. 364). In UX design, this principle aligns with the notion that effective interfaces “disappear” so users can focus on their tasks (Fowler, 2019). This invisibility can become negatively habitual: gestures like swiping left or right on a phone are now so deeply internalized that users forget the device’s mechanics, effectively training the body to perform unconsciously (WIRED, 2022). These examples illustrate Verbeek’s and Bollmer’s shared critique: technologies mediate our relationship with the world by prescribing ways of seeing and acting. From this phase, we learn that media artifacts should be approached not as transparent tools but as active participants in human-world relationships.

In the Define phase, designers synthesize insights into a clear, actionable human need which becomes the target of the design solution (Design Council, 2019). As we delve deeper into the arguments of media and materiality present in these two texts, Bollmer and Verbeek converge on the underlying problem: the need to design with awareness of technological intentionality: the ways technologies amplify certain realities while reducing others. Verbeek (2006) draws from Don Ihde’s notion that technologies have “intentions” embedded in their design. For instance, we have a hermeneutic relation to a thermometer that does not result in a direct sensation of heat or cold but gives a value that requires interpretation to make a statement about reality. Similarly, ultrasound imaging renders the fetus visible as a diagnostic object, shaping moral decisions about birth and health. In this sense, technologies do not merely represent reality, they also construct what counts as real and morally actionable. However, these intentionalities are not fixed – they are shaped by the relationship humans have with the artifacts. This idea, which Idhe coined as “multistability”,  can be seen in the telephone and typewriter being originally developed as equipment for the blind and hard of hearing instead of mass communication and writing technologies (p. 369). Bollmer (2019) parallels this with his engagement of the encoding/decoding model from cultural studies: although media texts are encoded with intended meanings, audiences are creative in their interpretations and may very well receive a message that is antithetical to the creator’s intent. He draws on the controversial claim of “the death of the author” (Barthes 1977, 142–48) because the true control of a text’s meaning for a reader comes not from the text itself, but from the context in which it is read. We can now see how the design of technology and media is an inherently moral activity when we are creating technologies that appear to give material answers to ethical questions. Verbeek stresses that as media creators, we have a unique responsibility of “materializing morality”, and considering the mediating role that technologies will eventually play in society, whether aligned with our intention or not (2006, p. 370). Bollmer (2019) complements this by situating materiality within power and politics, arguing that “relations of opposition and conflict” are inseparable from design’s performative agency (pp. 174–176). The problem statement arising from this Define stage could then be: how might we design media and technologies that make their mediating influence visible and ethically accountable, so that users and creators alike can recognize how design choices shape perception, interpretation, and moral action?

In the Develop phase, designers prototype and test potential solutions, iterating toward a design that balances functionality, context, and ethics (Design Council, 2019). Both Bollmer and Verbeek highlight the importance of anticipating the mediating role technologies will play once situated in society. Verbeek introduces the concept of scripts, or implicit instructions that artifacts have embedded in their material design. For example, a stop sign has the script “stop when you see me”, and we follow this instruction because of what it signifies, not because of its material presence in the relation between humans and the world (2006, p. 367). Bollmer (2019) complements this with his focus on semiotics, noting that while media operate through systems of meaning and representation, designers must move beyond mere symbolism to engage with how technologies act materially in the world (pp. 41–46). However, both scholars agree that semiotic methods cannot be the sole philosophy of design today. Technologies are able to exert influence as material things, not only as signs or carriers of meaning, and should be created with this in mind. Because technologies are multistable, their future uses and mediations are inherently uncertain. Verbeek therefore recommends conducting mediation analyses, or imaginative exercises where designers envision possible user interactions and ethical consequences. This anticipatory reflection bridges the gap between the context of design and the context of use (2006, p. 374). A classic example is the speed bump: it embodies moral intention (“slow down”) through physical form, while simultaneously limiting perceived freedom for drivers. These trade-offs illustrate that every design choice creates a negotiation between competing values and stakeholders. Bollmer (2019) extends this to and asserts that design prototypes not only mediate actions but also perform political struggles. Materiality is not neutral; it structures who can act, who can speak, and whose perspectives are amplified or reduced (pp. 175–176). Thus, the Develop phase becomes an important exercise in iterative ethical reflection: designers must continuously test how their material decisions mediate power, freedom, and meaning in lived contexts.

In the Deliver phase, designers refine and release a final design that responds to user and ethical insights gathered through iteration (Design Council, 2019). For both Bollmer and Verbeek, this stage is not merely about delivery but about accountability and understanding design outcomes within larger material and moral environments. Bollmer’s concept of neurocognitive materialism (2019, pp. 171–175) highlights how the body, brain, and media form a single interactive system. To deliver responsibly, designers must recognize that the artifacts they produce literally shape the embodied experience of being human. Verbeek (2006) shares this concern, emphasizing that designers cannot simply “inscribe” a desired form of morality into an artifact. Delivery of media artifacts requires the acknowledgement that once a design enters the world, it becomes co-authored by users and contexts, and morality becomes a shared responsibility between humans and technologies (as illustrated in Figure 1). Altogether, Bollmer and Verbeek remind us that delivering a media product to the public is a reflective act of material responsibility. Through this lens, delivering a design no longer means finalizing product details, it means nurturing an ongoing relationship between humans, matter, and ethics. As Bollmer concludes, “Materiality means we all exist together, in one world… If we want to create a better world, we have to begin with what matters” (2019, p. 176). As media consumers and creators, we must remember that what matters is not only the usability or efficiency of media systems but also the ethical weight of their mediations and the ways in which design makes, and remakes, our shared reality.

Sources of Mediation. From Verbeek, P.-P. (2006).

Citations:
Bollmer, G. (2019). Materialist media theory: An introduction. Bloomsbury Academic.
British Design Council. (2019). The double diamond: A universally accepted depiction of the design process. https://www.designcouncil.org.uk/our-resources/the-double-diamond/history-of-the-double-diamond/
 Fowler, D. (2019). The design of everyday things: How design makes us think. MIT Press.
Verbeek, P.-P. (2006). Materializing morality: Design ethics and technological mediation. Science, Technology & Human Values, 31(3), 361–380.
WIRED. (2022). How phone taps and swipes train us to be better consumers. https://www.wired.com/story/phone-interface-trains-us-to-be-consumers/

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Umberto Eco on Books and Life

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In Umberto Eco’s Library of the World, he narrates his relationship with books, libraries, and physical media as a crucial feature of his own life and body. His entire life journey, from the collection of books he read as a child to his face as an honorary feature on newspapers after his death, the evolution of his writing and consumption of media follows cultural and personal changes he uniquely experienced. 

Evolution of Memory

Umberto starts the first section of the film discussing the origin of books. As they are descendants of living trees, they have something he calls “vegetal memory”. The counterparts of this concept are the “organic memory” that resides in human brains, and “mineral memory” from the silicone in digital devices. This concept of unsentient objects holding a very human concept of “memory” is one also brought up by Ingold, who states that all objects evidenced other lives, whether human, animal, or other, but in becoming objects, had broken off from these lives. Umberto describes libraries as “mankind’s common memory”. These physical collections hold information from generations ago, immortalizing history and bringing it to our current world in both its words and materiality. Umberto notes the importance of this memorialization for two main reasons. Firstly, as humans living in time, we cannot move forward without memory. This is an especially relevant concept within politics – as Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana famously said, “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”. As scholars and historians send out warning signals connecting current events to the rise of fascism and other devastating historical incidents, Umberto’s warning for the entirety of our human race becomes more and more urgent. Secondly, this archive of past intelligence does not provide benefit if there is no shared human memory. Umberto describes how through writing and reading books about others’ experiences, he also lived and thrived through them. This is the power he posits that libraries hold – the ability to spread once unique and inaccessible knowledge to whoever seeks it. Umberto argues that this sustainable and growing base of archives is constrained to physical media. Books, manuscripts, and drawings have already survived and prove to be useful after hundreds of years, whereas floppy disks and certain USBs are already incompatible and rendered obsolete just years after their release. This evolution of memory, from the journey of the very tree that created a book to the experiences poured into it by the now-deceased authors, display the need for a shared and universal place of information – which Umberto describes as libraries.

Culture and Storytelling

Umberto provides reassurance to the audience that he equally values popular forms of mass media and in-depth scholarly works. He describes how growing up, he gathered fulfillment by “stealing others’ stories” in the form of consuming books from philosophers and cheap novelists alike. Another uniquely human ability in media creation is the capacity to describe things that aren’t there in real life – otherwise known as telling stories. The capability to imagine, and create entire worlds other than the one we are living in is an amazing power that Umberto does not discount under the standards of book ratings or intellectual prestige. At the same time, he argues the contradiction that fiction supplies us with irrefutable truth. He brings up an interesting example of two people being able to argue forever about their respective religious beliefs, but being forced to agree upon the fact that Clark Kent is Superman. The simultaneous creation of stories and cultural standards connects back with Ingold’s critique of the hylomorphic model. Ingold argues that rather than seeing making as a combination of matter and form, it is an entire process of growth, and the maker acts as a participant in a world of active materials. Additionally, in the process of making, the maker joins forces with these worldly processes and merely adds his own intentions into them. In absorbing and using other stories as inspiration for writing his own, Umberto shapes the culture that he participates in, and his own works both shape and are shaped by the context around him.

Information Noise

Lastly, Umberto humbly acknowledges his own preference for physical media while objectively addressing the shortcomings of a digital information age. He describes that mass media overloads us with too much information than we can realistically process, creating noise that serves no effective purpose. He calls this a communication black out, which occurs with the lack of a shared library of common knowledge. Though the popularization of recording information leads to archives of knowledge that benefit generations to come, Umberto posits that if everything is recorded, we don’t feel the need to remember it. He describes how our memory first serves its purpose to preserve, but it then selects which pieces of information to keep in our minds over long periods of time. Within an era where we consume information in the form of 10-second videos and micro-essays from the moment we wake up to after we fall asleep, we don’t absorb or produce any valuable knowledge. Astutely, he predicts that we are entering an era of education where we learn not how to supply knowledge, but how to be selective with it. 

Relevance to Course:

Umberto’s focus on the tactile and material experience of creating and consuming books directly reinforces Ingold’s theories of making, and the idea of writing as a morphogenetic,  or form-generating, process. Both this theory and Umberto’s film softens the distinctions between organism and artefact. Cultural and mediated contexts prove that works are not always created by the form the maker has in mind, but rather by engagement with materials (or in Umberto’s case, information and knowledge). I would argue that Umberto uses books to mediate his body and the world. From his physical connection with touching and altering his books, it is clear that his library serves as an extension of himself. Wegenstein describes that new media splits the body and self into multiple agents, creating a multiwindowed experience through different forms of expression. However, despite his thorough engagement with an incredible variety of media creation, Umberto is able to carve his own place in various cultural contexts, from semiotics and philosophy to cartoons and mystery novels – demonstrating his unique interdisciplinary ability to create a sense of self through his writing.

Eco, U. (Director). (2015). Umberto Eco: The library of the world [Film]. Stefilm International.

Ingold, T. (2013). Making: Anthropology, archaeology, art and architecture. Routledge.

Santayana, G. (1905). The life of reason: Or the phases of human progress. Charles Scribner’s Sons.

Wegenstein, B. (2010). Body. In W. J. T. Mitchell & M. B. Hansen (Eds.), Critical terms for media studies (pp. 19–33). University of Chicago Press.

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Blueberries, Body, and More

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I have always been attracted to fruit – as a girl with a sweet tooth, I resonate with their endearing size, flavour profiles, and delicate ties to femininity. During reflection on which one in particular I wanted to write about, I cycled through my favourites; mangoes, apples, grapes … they were all meaningful to me, but what came to the forefront of my mind and stayed there wasn’t remarkable at all. 

I don’t often have blueberries. It’s only when the circumstances perfectly align that they end up in my fridge and subsequently in my mouth – if there’s a sale I can’t ignore, a recipe I’m determined to follow, or a family member who made them appear in front of me. I specifically recall a recent memory where I was sitting at the kitchen table of my childhood home eating blueberries alone. I picked my way through the small blue fruits in the contrasting red bowl, rifling through to find the biggest, firmest, and most promising candidates. I remember seeing it as a gamble of flavours, a psychology experiment on associations between size and taste. If I felt particularly reckless, I would scoop up a handful and feel all the different flavours combine in my mouth. I was so inspired, in fact, that I took it upon myself to write my thoughts down in the form of a Notes app poem. Working a 9-5 internship made me feel uncreative and nostalgic of my more creative middle school times, so this is the product of such feelings:

if i was blueberry

i wonder if i’d still be small

i wonder if people would avoid me in the crowd, opting to pick my bigger counterpart

i wonder if finally, at the end, they would take the risk and spear through my soft skin

or if they would throw me away

i wonder if when they break through my flesh with their teeth

they would be pleasantly surprised by my sweetness

or if they would cringe from the tartness, and live the rest of their life avoiding other small blueberries

if i was a blueberry i wonder if you would still choose me first

Although this piece is unsophisticated and unnecessarily romantic, I learned that blueberries truly do evoke much from me. Blueberries afford me imperfection. Among a world of perfectly GMO’d fruits and perfectly edited lives, blueberries connect me to nature in a way that Susannah’s Apples did for her. They provide me with variety and natural bursts of joy that still manage to reach my overloaded dopamine receptors. They are a constant in my life, regardless of if I realize it or not. They top my yogurt, colour my smoothies, and are a delightful contrast in desserts. They are not my favourite, and they are not always the tastiest. Even among the cartons labeled Jumbo XL Sweet Blueberries, at least a few are bound to disappoint. Nonetheless, their flaws are exactly what makes them blueberries, and without the ones left squished at the bottom of the carton and the risk that comes with each bite, there is no experience being evoked – it all becomes quite boring.

The blueberry mediates my view on life and how life views me. In my tumultuous age within our current world, I find myself, more often than not, unconfident. Unsure about my place in my life, the workplace, and the world. In these times, it brings me comfort to consider the similarities between me and a little blue fruit. The blueberry also has a body, and moves through its life based on, and through, its body. Unfortunately, it also gets judged on its appearance, and predetermined stereotypes determine its fate. Despite all this, it thrives! And it does this without all the unique capabilities that we have as humans. The blueberry is its own medium and the final product. It does not have the privilege of embodiment, the dynamic living experience of being a blueberry – it simply is. Wegenstein notes in her chapter on Body that online personas, cosmetic surgery, fashion and architecture as mediums demonstrate that “current trends of thinking” about the body aim to nullify the rise of disembodiment in modern culture. Through the way we edit and adjust our own body and what it produces, we are able to control our experiences and design our life. This is how we end up with human experiences, rather than blueberry experiences. 

In this sense, blueberries afford me gratitude – appreciation of my uniquely human features, the dexterity of my fingers to create art, the earlobes that I intentionally pierced to make space for dangly jewelry, the still-developing brain that I fill with knowledge and skills. Wegenstein writes that our bodies, now mediated through technology, fashion, and self-representation, are not fixed but dynamic sites of creation – tools through which we experience, express, and even redesign life. Yet, as Mandel and Cézanne suggest, there is beauty in remaining tethered to the soil, in recognizing that even the most mediated body is still material. In the same way that Susannah’s apples ground her in a sensual awareness of being “part fruit, part earth,” my blueberries remind me that embodiment is a continuous act of negotiation between nature, self, and medium. The blueberry, then, becomes my counterpoint to digital disembodiment: a reminder of imperfection, decay, and the sweetness or tartness that cannot be filtered or replicated. Now when I encounter one, I feel my own presence with the world – how I consume it, and how it, in turn, shapes me. In this quiet exchange between fruit and flesh, I find an embodied media experience: a small affirmation that I am still here, still part of the earth, still alive.

Turkle, Sherry. “WHAT MAKES AN OBJECT EVOCATIVE? .” pp. 307–326.

Wegenstein, Bernadette. “Body.” Critical Terms for Media Studies, pp. 19–34.