Tag Archives: Mcluhan

General Media Theory

Media makes us STUPID? When internet slangs become your only mean of expression…

7 Comments

The more deeply I engage with media—especially while studying in a program centered on media itself—the more I notice how easily it shapes my perception, attention, and even my habits of thought. This course has made me confront something I never really questioned before: what does it mean to maintain a healthy distance from the media systems that structure so much of our daily life? And what happens when we don’t? Will constantly scrolling through short videos or fragmented content make us less intelligent? If so, how?

Since middle school, teachers told me that I used too many vague pronouns in my writing, which affects my precision. They frequently remind me to avoid using “this” or “that” in my writing. “If you can’t find suitable words, it means your language isn’t keeping up with your thinking.” This indicates that you lack language as a tool to deeply form your own understanding and thoughts. If medium shapes cognition (McLuhan), how is constant scrolling reorganizing our ability to think? Many people intuitively think that short videos make us “dumber”, but the reasons are often misinterpreted. The issue isn’t that watching TikTok directly lowers intelligence. Instead, these platforms cultivate a discourse environment that is extremely homogeneous and structurally limited (Loupessis and Intahchomphoo). You may seem to be exposed to a lot of content every day, but in reality, it’s all just a repetitive corpus of viral phrases.

According to the article “What the Sigma?: The Sociolinguistic Applications of Gen Alpha Slang in the Digital Era,” scholars, based on Generation Alpha’s own digital slang research, cataloged 46 different examples of Gen Alpha slang and grouped them into five categories: Fresh & Creative, Flippant, Imitative, Acronym/Clipping, and more (Rodriguez). Most of those slang terms fall under the “Fresh & Creative” category — that is, they are newly coined, playful, and often tied to visual-media or short-form video contexts like “Skibidi,” “rizz,” “fanum tax,” etc. This suggests that the linguistic repertoire of Gen Alpha is not being recycled from older generations but is instead expanding—producing new vocabulary at a very fast pace and restructuring how younger people communicate.

In contrast with the more stable, formal language, this dynamic and rapidly shifting slang ecosystem emphasizes my concern: as everyday expression is increasingly shaped by fleeting memes and platform-specific references, so the linguistic resource on which thoughtfully reflective, precise expression diminishes, limiting how wide or deep our conceptual world can become.

“The limits of my language mean the limits of my world” – Ludwig Wittgenstein

In light of our course discussions, this feels connected to Wittgenstein’s insight that language structures the world we can inhabit conceptually. If, as McLuhan suggests, media environments reshape attention and cognition, then a restricted linguistic repertoire not only reflects that shift. It reinforces it, narrowing the range of ideas we are capable of forming in the first place. The convenient yet biased categorization of things, the crude grouping of people and events, the choosing of sides, and the imposition of stereotypes are often caused by the inertia of language. When language divides the world, it limits how our brains organize knowledge.

This brings me back to our discussions of Bollmer and materiality: the problem isn’t just what content says, but how platforms structure the kinds of expression that feel natural. TikTok discourse often feels “vast,” but structurally it’s incredibly limited. We scroll through thousands of videos that appear diverse but repeat the same linguistic templates, emotional beats, and forms of reaction. The result is what Adorno might call pseudo-individuality: a sense of originality inside a fundamentally homogenized system (Theodore Adorno). So my emerging argument is this: Homogenized media environments don’t just limit what we see—they limit the language we have available to describe our own experiences. And when language narrows, thought narrows.

The topic of how language shapes thought is a well-worn one, and it’s also a frequently discussed binary proposition in philosophy. A comparable concern arises in George Orwell’s notion of “Newspeak” in 1984, wherein the state deliberately reduces vocabulary so that citizens become literally incapable of forming rebellious or complex thoughts (“Language in 1984 and the Concept of Newspeak”). While our contemporary situation is not governed by authoritarian language control, the basic mechanism is similar in a way that is almost unbelievable: when available vocabulary shrinks, so shrinks the range of imaginable ideas. Neil Postman extends this argument in Amusing Ourselves to Death, contending that societies dominated by entertainment-centered media lose the capacity for sustained, rational discourse (Postman). For Postman, the danger is not censorship through force, but through distraction—when a culture becomes saturated with quick, shallow, emotionally stimulating content, people lose the cognitive habits required for critique. Both Orwell and Postman offer useful parallels to what we have discussed in class: media environments shape not only what we think about, but the very conditions under which thinking is possible. When we combine their insights with McLuhan’s “the medium is the message” and Bollmer’s claim on media materiality, a clearer pattern emerges–media forms that privilege speed, simplification, and entertainment tend to produce linguistic environments where nuance atrophies, and with it, the capacity for deeper political, ethical, and intellectual reflection.

How can we improve our expression and critical thinking skills? Read more serious books and works, or listen to insights that aren’t mass-produced. Strive for greater precision in word choice, try to describe feelings more specifically, find a precise word for vague thoughts, and then replace it with more of these words to expand your vocabulary. The vastness of our thinking is only limited by our limited language. In reality, our thoughts are incredibly vast; given better language tools, we can go much further.

Reference:

Loupessis, Iliana, and Channarong Intahchomphoo. “Framing the climate: How Tiktok’s algorithm shapes environmental discourse.” Telematics and Informatics, vol. 102, Oct. 2025, p. 102329, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tele.2025.102329.

“Language in 1984 and the Concept of Newspeak.” Teddybarbier.Com, www.llceranglais.fr/language-in-1984-and-the-concept-of-newspeak.html#:~:text=What%20is%20Newspeak%20?,in%20totalitarian%20countries%20and%20organisations. Accessed 5 Dec. 2025.

Postman, Neil. Amusing Ourselves to Death. Pearson Education, 2007

Rodriguez, Sophia Marie. What the Sigma?: The Sociolinguistic Applications of Gen Alpha Slang in the Digital Era | by Sophia Marie Rodriguez | Medium, medium.com/@sophiamarie.rodriguez/what-the-sigma-the-sociolinguistic-applications-of-gen-alpha-slang-in-the-digital-era-b7ef7e489af0. Accessed 5 Dec. 2025.

Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer, mariabuszek.com/mariabuszek/kcai/PoMoSeminar/Readings/AdornoHork.pdf. Accessed 5 Dec. 2025.

Cover: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/784752303855969869/

Written by Gina Chang

Other

Analyzing Extension through the Modern Lens of AI

13 Comments

The two texts that I will be critically comparing are The Iphone Erfahrung by Emily McArthur, and Extending “Extension” by Yoni Van Den Eede, both found in the book Design, Mediation, and the Posthuman. They both talk about extension and evolutions in technology and how they relate to the human experience, and because of this they certainly relate.

The Iphone Erfahrung Summary

McArthur’s article focuses on Siri, which when it was written in 2014 was a fairly new piece and advancement of technology. Siri is talked about as being an extension of the human (McArthur), as any thought that enters someone’s mind can be nearly instantly asked to Siri. While Siri is primarily used as a faster Google, or an answering machine, the way in which individuals speak to their phone and receive a response from a voice is anything but normal, at least not 10 years ago. The article talks alot about Walter Benjamin’s concept of ‘aura’, and how Siri represents aura due to its magical nature and its place in the social hierarchy (McArthur); as in, it can be considered an authority for truth (like a faster Google). Despite Siri’s magical appearance though, all it really does in terms of looking back at the user is make a guess based on what its learned, rather than come up with something on its own (McArthur). The article also talks about how that applies to other algorithms and modern systems, like online shopping or digital newspapers recommending you articles based off your recent reads. All in all, McArthur’s article focuses on the aura of Siri, the way in which sound can penetrate the unconscious, and the limits of its capabilities.

Extending Extension Summary

Van Den Eede’s article briefly recaps the idea of extension through history and talking about McLuhan’s perspective on it, before narrowing its focus and discussing self-tracking software and applications, like FitBits and other technologies that we essentially input our data into, arguing with McLuhan’s help that they are unique extensions of the body(Van Den Eede). From surveillance issues, to the notion that self-tracking apps are solving a “problem”, this article and how it discusses technology certainly relates to McArthur’s article, as they both provide interesting perspectives on how humans interact with technology.

How the Texts can be Used Together

When reading through both of the articles, one topic in particular immediately came to mind, as this one tends to – artificial intelligence. When considering software like Siri and algorithms that predict behaviour and using technology as an extension of self, there are fewer subjects more applicable than AI. The texts relate in numerous ways, but because they were written over a decade ago, naturally the technological references they utilize and predict are outdated. Using the lens of AI when comparing them helps enhance their similarities and makes it more clear just how much not only AI affects us, but also how it will continue to in the future.

McArthur’s article talks about how Siri doesn’t necessarily know exactly what you say, but it uses its language processes to essentially make a guess to what you are saying. This applies moreso when verbally speaking, but this can also apply to text, since alot of meaning that can be inferred between two humans speaking can be lost when it is typed out. In today’s world, AI very much does the same thing, particularly in image and video generation. All it does is read what the user types in, and makes the best guess it can for what they imagine the user wants. This can also apply to students who use AI to sort and organize their notes for them, as even if the student emphasizes a certain way they’d like their information to be presented, only they truly know what that looks like, not the AI. 

All of this culminates in a couple of outcomes: ease of use, and extending one’s self. Both articles talk about how technology makes things easier, whether it be using Siri as an instant-answer machine, or using a self-tracking app to count one’s calories instead of using a book and doing calculations on their own. People use these apps because it is easier than doing the activity themselves, and that is how these companies make all the money that they do, because they promise an easier lifestyle. At the same time, this technology is an extension of the self. Using AI to sort through your notes, or generate an opening paragraph that ‘sounds like your writing’, is in essence an extension of one’s self. However, this dois not to say that what the AI generates is ‘yours’, or even creative. There is a lot of contention when it comes to passing off AI-generated art or video or content in general as one’s own, and that is not what is being advocated for. Despite the lack of authorship though, if someone puts in their notes or writing into an LLM and asks it to generate something, the product that emerges is an extension of them also because they asked the AI to generate it to begin with. It is an extension that highlights the user’s creativity (or lack thereof).

McLuhan also discusses an idea in Van Den Eede’s article about the medical concept of an irritant and counter-irritant, saying that many extensions in the world are created in response to a problem in order to solve the problem (Van Den Eede). However, there is always a cost, and any time a counter-irritant is used to enhance something or a body part, it also weakens something else, almost like a sort of exchange. This thinking can be applied to McArthur’s article, since using AI to do your thinking for you is a perfect example of this. While the problem may be that someone doesn’t know how best to plan someone’s 30th birthday, by asking the AI to help solve the problem (the irritant) through using an AI-generated plan after being fed all of the birthday person’s interests (the counter-irritant), the trade-off is part of their brain will inevitably suffer as they rely more and more on AI and outside help for idea generation and problem solving instead of using their own brain muscles to do it. Another interesting comparison is that McLuhan argues that people are aware of technology as an ‘other’ and it is obvious (Van Den Eede), but as more and more people get fooled by AI scams and as McArhur’s article discussed that sound penetrates the mind with relation to Siri, the lines get blurrier and blurrier.

Takeaways and Conclusion

In conclusion, McArthur’s text and Van Den Eede’s text both discuss extension in relation to technology, and by using the more modern perspective of AI and its impact on people, the two articles can be used as a helpful guide to highlight how Ai (and technology in general) greatly impact us all, and also discuss some interesting ways to talk about it, like the irritant and counter-irritant theory brought up by McLuhan in Van Den Eede’s article. This all is important to know for people my age as being able to discuss these processes and theories is more important than ever. As more and more people grow accustomed to AI being embedded in daily activities, whether it be apps or transactions or whatever else, the times from just a few years ago where that was not the case will slowly be lost. Being able to articulate these processes isn’t to wish for a return for the way things were, as that is nigh impossible at this point, but it is still critical to know so that we can still stay ahead of the technology as best we can, and stay informed through it all.

Works Cited


McArthur, Emily. “The Iphone Erfahrung: Siri, the Auditory Unconscious, and Walter Benjamin’s “Aura”.” Design, Mediation, and the Posthuman. Ed. Dennis M. Weiss Ed. Amy D. Propen Ed. Colbey Emmerson Reid Lanham: Lexington Books, 2014. 113–128. Postphenomenology and the Philosophy of Technology. Bloomsbury Collections. Web. 1 Dec. 2025. <http://dx.doi.org/10.5040/9781666993851.ch-006>.

Van Den Eede, Yoni. “Extending “Extension”: A Reappraisal of the Technology-as-Extension Idea through the Case of Self-Tracking Technologies.” Design, Mediation, and the Posthuman. Ed. Dennis M. Weiss Ed. Amy D. Propen Ed. Colbey Emmerson Reid Lanham: Lexington Books, 2014. 151–172. Postphenomenology and the Philosophy of Technology. Bloomsbury Collections. Web. 1 Dec. 2025. <http://dx.doi.org/10.5040/9781666993851.ch-008>.

General Media Theory

The Digital Self is NOT Separate From the Physical Self. Here’s Why.

3 Comments

Media theory often starts with technologies. Cameras, screens, networks, and books are all treated as central agents of mediation, the things that shape perception, distribute information, and structure social lives. Yet, long before any technological medium emerges, humans already inhabit a medium that grounds all experience: the body. The body is not merely a vessel that encounters media; it’s the first site through which the world becomes sensible. Every medium, no matter how advanced or “immaterial”, ultimately depends on embodied perception. To truly understand media, then, we have to begin not with devices but with embodiment itself. 

The distinction between body and embodiment is critical here. The body can be approached as an object, after all, it is a visible, bounded thing with physical characteristics. As it appears from the outside, the body is seemingly stable and fixed. Embodiment, however, refers to the lived experience of having and being a body. The sensations, emotions, memories, and movements that give human existence its texture and flavour. Embodiment is contextual, dynamic, and constantly changing. It is through embodiment that perception becomes meaningful, and that media first takes shape. 

What our digital culture reveals, ironically, is not the disappearance of embodiment but its constant negotiation. Through the 20th and 21st centuries, new technologies promised a kind of disembodiment. With the invention of the internet and its numerous features, we have the possibility of creating entirely new identities, freed from physical constraints and distributed across avatars, usernames, posts, and profiles. Online, people can imagine themselves unburdened by the limits of appearance, ability, or geography. Gender can become a role performed in a textual or visual space, selfhood can multiply into curated personas, and new “people” can be created out of thin air by the click of a few buttons. You can decide at any given moment that the person you want to be online is opposite to who you really are, physically. This ideology of disembodiment suggests to people that digital technologies offer something beyond the physical constraints of the body. 

However, I would argue that in practice these technologies intensify the role of embodiment rather than diminish it. Even in “virtual” environments, our bodies respond in physical ways while we’re experiencing them. We have physical shifts like our postures changing to best adapt in viewing the screens, our eyes adapt to stare at bright screens and pixels for longer periods of time, our heart rates rise and fall as we experience the media in front of us. Like playing a virtual reality game, we have to physically embody the character in the game in order to properly play virtually, and our body reacts to the screen we’re seeing through VR lenses like we are really there. We have emotional responses ranging from anxiety, excitement, desire, envy, joy, sadness, and more registering in the body. Could you recognize and count how many emotions you flip through while you mindlessly scroll through the news, or Instagram, or TikTok? The rhythms of tapping, scrolling, and pausing all become habitual motor patterns that are cemented in your muscle memory, your fingers immediately assuming their positions when holding your phone and starting the pattern all over again every time you pick up the phone. Do you have to think about what to do with your hands when using your phone? Does your pinky finger have a small dent in the side of it, creating the perfect fit for your phone to rest on? Does your heart rate rise when you get a notification? 

The digital self is NOT separate from the physical self.

The digital self depends on and leaves traces on the embodied subject who sustains it. AKA, you. Far from escaping the body, we discover that digital media reconfigures our sense of it. This apparent tension becomes clearer when we examine the question of materiality. A common fear is that digital media detaches meaning from material substance, that the shift from paper to screens, from objects to streams, from physical archives to remote servers and digital files, signals a broader cultural “dematerialization”. While this is true, as an estimated 90% of modern human history would vanish if the internet died, even the most digital forms of media are materially grounded. A streaming platform still requires bodies capable of hearing and seeing, a VR headset must sit on an actual face, and an algorithm only functions by registering your microgestures of attention and habit. The infrastructure of digital media is itself profoundly physical, from data centers to batteries to our sensory organs that absorb and interpret the output. If digital culture appears immaterial, it is only because the material supports have been submerged beneath more seamless interfaces. 

Recognizing the primacy of the body reframes how we can understand media technologies. Each new medium can be viewed as an extension of bodily capacity as writing extends memory, photography extends vision, audio technologies extend hearing, and social platforms extend presence or attention. These extensions do not replace our embodied perception; they amplify, reconfigure, and externalize it. As McLuhan famously argued, “the medium is the message”, but this motto takes on a deeper significance if we acknowledge that the boy is the medium behind all the messages. The ways we hear, touch, see, and move through the world shape the kinds of media we create, and in turn, those media reshape how we imagine our bodies. 

Ultimately, grounding media theory in embodiment reveals that media are not external systems we occasionally interact with. They are environments we inhabit, extensions we live through, and processes that reorganize perception at its root. Before images, words, signals, or data arrive, they must pass through the sensing, remembering, and interpreting body. The body is not simply where mediation happens, it itself is a medium. Our body is dynamic, responsive, and continually shaped by the technologies we encounter every day. If media are ways of structuring experience, the embodiment is the original architecture. It remains the template through which all of the media we absorb must pass, and the anchor that keeps even the most virtual environments tethered to the material conditions of life. Media theories that forget the body risk forgetting the very ground of perception itself. To properly understand the media, we begin where experience begins: Our Bodies.

TLDR:

Media begins and ends with our bodies, because it’s all a big tangled mess that we’re dependent on, and that’s dependent on us. #interlinked #fullcircle #onewithtechnology

Other

Critical Response Post to “Morality and Materiality in Digital Technology and Cognition”: How Tony Horava’s Takeaway on ‘the Medium’ Will Always Affect Us

8 Comments

Introduction

In this critical response post, I will be adding onto ideas discussed in Molly Kingsley and Aminata Chipembere’s post, “Morality and Materiality in Digital Technology and Cognition”. In their blog post, they discussed Bollmer and Verbeek’s ideas on materiality and how they relate to digital technology, talking about the similarities in their perspectives while highlighting a couple important points: digital tech can be material even if it appears immaterial, and technology can influence humans and their decision making. This critical response will focus on the latter idea, and will incorporate the added perspective of Tony Horava on the ways in which the medium of something, whether it be technology or not, still affects us.

Original Post Overview

Kingsley and Chipembere discuss the notion that technology, despite being largely considered to be an ‘immaterial’ presence, still affects our decision making, how we feel, and how we may act in the future. I believe this idea to be very important in today’s culture, as the development of technology rapidly outpaces our capacity to wholly understand it and its effects. The purpose of this critique is to bring in some added perspectives on how exactly technology impacts how we feel and act, as it is not only interesting to think about, but also necessary.

Horava’s Perspective

Tony Horava in his journal article “eBooks and McLuhan: The Medium is Still the Message” talks about McLuhan’s original phrase and how that correlates to modern technology. For example, the way in which one interacts with a physical copy of a book compared to a digital copy of a book is different despite the materials being the same (Horava 62). The way in which our hands turn the page versus swipe a tablet, or the smell of paper versus the smell of a screen, all culminate to creating a unique reading experience that is definitely informed by the medium in which the contents are being gathered from. Using this lens, I want to take a look at some of the examples that Kingsley and Chipembere talk about in their original blog post.

In their post, the authors discuss several ways in which technologies can impact human behaviour, such as the ways in which doctors consult medical devices, as well as talking about hermeneutic media, which provides a representation of reality that requires interpretation (Kingsley and Chipembere). The medical example in particular is one I found especially interesting, as I believe that Horava’s perspective can play a role in how doctors use various medical machinery. As an example, when a doctor uses technology to fetch results, or analyze a sample, or conduct any sort of medical test, the doctor is inherently placing their faith in that technology to work. Contrast the technology available now compared to fifty years ago, and the attitudes would be much different. Doctors would still have faith in their machines, but presumably far less so than their modern-day counterparts, and as such it would take a different mental toll and reflection on their work. More would have to be done to ensure the results are accurate, or that the readings were saying what they thought they were: in short, Horava’s idea on how the medium affects the message applies to doctors’ reliance on technology over the years. Even if the message were the same, for example, on a more simple medical device that was used years ago that is still relevant now, the simple fact that we now live in the modern era with information at our fingertips and hospitals equipped with the latest advancements would add a level of confidence that prior generations wouldn’t have had. This will only continue on into the future too, as tech continues to evolve and early-onset detection systems reduce the amounts of deadlier conditions (hopefully).

Conclusion

This extra level of perspective on Kingsley and Chipembere’s post is not meant as a negative, as I thought their writing was very well done and presented dense ideas in a clear and digestible way. The purpose of this post is to also bring in a relevant newer course reading through Horava, and add his perspective on the concepts discussed by Bollmer and Verbeek, as I believe them to be related. We often talk in this class about how technology influences us, and even how it influences us, but Horava’s article has stuck with me in its ability to articulate the differences between an eBook and physical book, and I thought that the main takeaway from it was worthy to bring up again and apply to my peer’s work. I strongly believe that the medium of digital technology itself does impact us, and as it continues to evolve, so will its impact. What we feel now due to social media and the like will be far different just a few years in the future, and being able to properly communicate that effect is important.

Works Cited

Horava, Tony. “eBooks and McLuhan: The Medium is Still the Message.” Against the Grain, vol. 28, no. 4, 2016, pp. 62-64. Library and Information Science Commons. Accessed 16 November 2025.

Kingsley, Molly, and Aminata Chipembere. Morality and Materiality in Digital Technology and Cognition. 14 November 2025, Morality and Materiality in Digital Technology and Cognition. Accessed 16 November 2025. Blog Post.

Image Credit: https://mitsloan.mit.edu/sites/default/files/2022-07/MIT-Healthcare-Technology-01_0.jpg

Critical Comparison

Human-Technological Relations: An Exploration of McArthur and Van Den Eede

1 Comment

Emily McArthur and Yoni Van Den Eede, through an exploration of Siri via Walter Benjamin’s definition of the ‘aura’ and self-tracking technologies through Marshall McLuhan’s extension theory of media, explore the relationship between humans and technology and the ways in which interactions between the two shape the media ecology. In this post, I will be comparing the two texts in order to find common ground and points of difference between the two and point out the ways in which each author conceptualizes the boundaries between the human body and technological mediation.

McArthur

McArthur builds a case for the aura of technological devices and programs. Walter Benjamin’s definition of aura is ‘the sense of uniqueness’, which deteriorates due to forces of technological reproduction. However, he has a positivist attitude towards technological development, as the destruction of aura also destroys the mysticality inherent in it, and essentially leads to a democratization of art (McArthur 115). 

Originally, Benjamin’s definition of the aura had been applied to aesthetic works such as art and literature, with technology merely being the means of reproduction in this equation (McArthur 114). But what McArthur proposes is a reimagined view of the aura; a posthuman aura which allows technologies like Siri, which teeter on the edge of humanity and artifact, to gain a unique kind of authenticity (115). This new conception of aura, as proposed by McArthur, is based on the technology’s simultaneous proximity and distance from the user. It appropriates human mannerisms and functions well enough to lull the user into perceiving it to have a ‘quasi-human’ face, while also drawing a clear boundary through its robotic tone of voice, reminding the user that it is a technology created by man (117). It also performs a democratizing function, by making available a technology to everyday users, that had only been available to people working within the tech industry up until then (McArthur 117). All in all, McArthur presents a determinist approach to perceiving human-technological relationships. She raises concerns about such algorithms collecting data and surveilling users for corporate gain, fracturing human relationships as a result of excess proximity to technology, and encourages readers to critically engage with media.

Van Den Eede

On the other hand, Van Den Eede uses self-tracking health technologies as a case study to examine the extensionism theory, often championed by media theorists. He presents arguments for and against the extensionist perspective, specifically expanding upon Marshall McLuhan’s theory of extensionism and putting it into conversation with Kiran and Verbeek’s critique of the instrumentalist nature of the extension theory. Van Den Eede himself seems to take a stance against the extensionist theory, citing it as a useful way of examining media technologies but one that ultimately reduces human-technology interactions to a binary of complete ‘reliance’ or ‘suspicion’ (156). He instead ‘superposes’ McLuhan’s extensionism theory with Kiran and Verbeek’s argument that the relationship between humans and technologies should be one of trust, in which the user learns to critically engage with the technologies (168).

Translation and Linguistics

Both McArthur and Van Den Eede bring up translation as a crucial element of the human and technological relationship. McArthur talks about how natural language processors do not actually comprehend human speech; rather it goes through a series of translations (116). From sound waves to code and then back to sound waves. The magic of the translation process, the fact that information is converted into multiple different forms before being reflected back to the user is part of what gives the technology its aura (117). She argues that this appropriation of human language simultaneously performs the function of ‘mystifying’ and ‘demystifying’ language. While technology’s ability to comprehend and respond to humans in a language they understand grants it an exalted status, human speech is wrested out of human hands, causing them to lose the unique connection they had with the language (116). 

On the other hand, Van Den Eede argues that McLuhan’s media theory is deeply rooted in linguistics, citing McLuhan’s idea that media are translations of human organisms and functions into material forms (159). He refers to media as metaphors, suggesting that these media constitute a language through which humans make sense of the world around them. Van Den Eede contends that analysing media through a linguistic framework allows us to understand them by linguistic means. He examines the etymology of media and finds that it originates from the human, which, he argues, lends weight to McLuhan’s extensionist claim that the body from which media originates should hold significance (160).

Reciprocity and Control

McArthur cites Benjamin to explore technology’s ability to ‘gaze back’ at us, noting how, in the case of traditional art, this gaze once afforded value to bourgeois works. Essentially, she argues that this returned gaze grants the object a form of social control over the human (119). While it constructs a hierarchy that gives users the illusion of mastery over a human-like apparatus, there remains an imbalance, as the data collected by these corporations is used to refine algorithms and exercise corporate control over users (McArthus 125). Moreover, just like the aura of bourgeois art, the aura of Apple’s products gain control over the masses through the strengthening and construction of social hierarchies, with Siri adding onto its exclusivity. Though McArthur claims the aura has been ‘democratized’ by the value of it being available to the common people, Apple is still a brand whose products can only be acquired by a certain class of privileged individuals. Rather than democratizing aura, it furthers commodity fetishism and the aura of technology simply becomes another part of the equation of corporate profitmaking endeavours (120). 

Van Den Eede also addresses similar concerns, drawing on McLuhan’s theory of the environment’s reciprocal relationship with human extensions. He comments on a transformative process in which humans and media continuously reshape one another. By translating ourselves into media, ‘we reach out into the environment, but this also makes it possible for the environment to reach back into us’(160). He claims that the extensionist theory creates an illusion of  one-way traffic between humans and media, leaving humans unable to notice the effects media have on them. He advocates for a ‘two-way traffic’ approach towards technologies, arguing that they shape us just as much as we shape them (166). In this sense, Van Den Eede champions a co-shaping relationship between humans and technology, in which technology and humans exist within the same environment, on equal footing.

Posthumanism

McArthur describes the aura of technologies as posthuman, meaning a type of aura that is not inherent, but is instead imbued in a device through the painstaking efforts of engineers (120). In line with her technological determinist view she seems to be skeptical towards posthumanism. She claims that the posthuman aura of Siri is broken when it fails to process spoken instructions, which happens quite frequently. It reminds the user that Siri is not actually an autonomous entity, but rather a program developed by engineers which is liable to fail (124). 

McArthur’s view on the posthumanism of technology is in line with the McLuhanian extension theory and the concept of Narcissus narcosis, the idea that humans are unaware of the fact that these technologies originate from us. Van Den Eede seems to be critical of the anthropocentric implications of the extension theory, claiming that the idea of becoming aware of the ‘origin’ of technologies from the human still prioritizes human body over technology (160). He does admit, however, that Kiran and Verbeek’s idea of ‘trusting’ oneself to technology is also based in a certain negotiation of the boundaries between the two, which has a hint of a humanist character as well (168). All in all, while he does support a posthuman approach towards technology, he also encourages readers to critically engage with technologies.

Conclusion

McArthur appears to be more skeptical of human-technology relations, raising concerns about surveillance, data collection, algorithmic control, and the varied ways in which the capitalist system harnesses technology to exercise social control over the masses. She adopts a more humanist stance, echoing the McLuhanian notion of the human body assuming a superior position in  human-technology relations by value of it being the source of technology.

In contrast, Van Den Eede adopts a more optimistic stance toward technology. He only briefly touches upon surveillance and data collection, primarily using it to support his argument for a ‘trust’ approach to human-technology interactions (165). Though he ends up finding a middle ground between extensionism and Kiran and Verbeek’s alternative ideas of human-technology interaction, it is clear that he values the posthumanist notion of a two-way relationship between humans and technologies. Despite these differences, both authors share confidence in the user’s capacity to critically engage with media, emphasizing the importance of reflection and awareness in navigating technological environments.

Works Cited

  1. Van Den Eede, Yoni. ‘Extending “Extension”.’ Design, Mediation, and the Posthuman, 151-172.  https://doi.org/10.5040/9781666993851.ch-008. 
  2. McArthur, Emily. “The Iphone Erfahrung.” Design, Mediation, and the Posthuman, 2014, 113–28. https://doi.org/10.5040/9781666993851.ch-006.
Critical Comparison

The Ways in Which Media Redefine the Self

3 Comments

Introduction

Does technology merely extend our human capabilities, or does it redefine our human experience through prosthetic mediation? This is a question that is explored in both Alison Landsberg’s “Prosthetic Memory” (1995) and Yoni Van Den Eede’s “Extending ‘Extension’” (2014), where the development of media technologies is interrogated as they continue to reconfigure human embodiment, identity, and experience. While Landsberg argues that mass media formats can implant “prosthetic memories” to produce empathy and political subjectivity, Eede re-examines the idea that technology acts as an extension of human physical and nervous systems, as proposed by philosopher Marshall McLuhan. By comparing these two texts that explore a central tension in media theory, we can better understand how different theorists frame technology in relation to the human, shaping the questions we can ask about today’s ever-changing digital age.

Prosthetic Memory: Total Recall and Blade Runner


In Prosthetic Memory: Total Recall and Blade Runner, Landsberg theorised media as a prosthesis to the human being. The theorist spotlights the intriguing example of the armless beggar who was gifted a prosthetic arm by a wealthy passerby to illustrate the central concept of “prosthetic memory”. The arm, upon remembering its thieving past, seems to act on its own will as it snatches the belongings of people walking by. After unsuccessfully selling off the arm at a pawn shop, the beggar is brought into jail, where the arm finds its rightful owner, a one-armed criminal and reattaches itself to him. This example teaches us that prosthetic memories, as such, can be understood as memories “which do not come from a person’s lived experience in any strict sense” (Landsberg, 175). It is understood as an implantation of “otherness” that has the power to influence one’s identity, as with the case of the beggar turned into a thief.

This complexity between memory and experience that is brought forth by the idea of prosthetic memories lays the foundation for how Landsberg theorises the concept of “media”. With the introduction of mass media, our conception of what counts as real experience fundamentally changes. As humans are introduced to “mediated knowledge”, the line between the real and the mediated seems to merge into one, as the consumption of media is argued to be synonymous with the implantation of memories originating not from our own experiences. Landberg states that this marks the death of “real experiences”, as when the media is to be understood as prosthetics to human beings, such a conception constructs a fundamental split in which it does not belong to man, but lies outside of man as a distant “other-ness”.Thus, the formative effect that the media can exert on man’s identity is undeniable. In the example of Total Recall, Landsberg argued that mediated images have the power to intervene in “the production of subjectivity”. As a person is presented along with a mediated representation of themselves on a video screen, questions of authenticity and originality arise. The subject’s identity relies heavily on his memories, for they are proof of his lived experience and thus occupy an important foundational role in the making of subjectivity. However, the existence of media challenges this very notion simply by positing the possibility of memories being separated from real experience.

Extending “Extensions”: A Reappraisal of the Technology-as-Extension Idea through the Case of Self-Tracking Technologies

In Extending “Extensions” by Yoni Van Den Eede, the theory that media technology exists as an extension to the human being emerges. The traditional approach to understanding the concept of the “extension” technology is considered to be tools that extend the abilities of man, such as how glasses enhance vision. In this sense, there is still a separation between the self and its objects (media technology) as an external “other-ness”. Media is, as such, more like an instrument under this traditional understanding than it is an extension.

However, this conception of “extension” fails to fully account for more complex instances of technological tools, such as the introduction of self-tracking technologies, which entail “the collection and storage of various sorts of data in or about one’s body or life” (Van Den Eede, 161). They do more than just extend our capabilities, as they influence how we experience our identity through capturing our lived experiences. Van Den Eede argues that a smartwatch’s simple functions of capturing your steps or recording your sleep patterns have an effect on how you relate to yourself. Therefore, it is crucial that we adapt to the demands of the age and understand media and technology not purely as extensions but also as mediators of our reality. 

Under this new understanding, the separation that previously existed is successfully bridged, and only then can we acknowledge that these tools belong to us, through which they become an extension of ourselves in a more genuine sense than as an object of mere instrumental value. Since media, in its very definition, entails mediating, it cannot be properly understood simply as a tool for augmenting human abilities, although it extends our capacities manifoldly in this sense; thus, “media” is more properly conceptualised as an extension. Van Den Eede has successfully overcome the shortcomings of the past age and adapted the traditional approach to take into account the modern nuances of our time.

Critical Comparisons

While it is evident that both theorists share an interest in how media technologies blur the boundary between the self and other, their approaches, ontological assumptions, and political implications drastically differ. Landsberg’s “prosthetic” metaphor implies a sense of loss, replacement, and hybridity between technological supplements as a substitute for something missing. To Landsberg, this reconfiguration of the human comes from within. Alternatively, Van Den Eede’s “extension” metaphor suggests projection and expansion, emphasising how technology radiates from the human outward, even if that boundary begins to dissolve. Comparing the two texts, it is clear that “prosthesis” affects ethics, emphasising the ways the media we consume can implant experiences and emotions that reshape identity. “Extension” emphasises how technologies alter perception and define what counts as “human.” Altogether, these concepts reveal the logic of mediation, demonstrating how media can both inhabit the body and extend it into the world.

Furthermore, the differences in the work that these two authors do also inform the contexts of their arguments. Landsberg’s work is grounded in cultural studies, postmodernism, and feminist theory, referencing thinkers such as Haraway and Kracauer. Therefore, the author’s arguments often position media not simply to represent or supplement experience, but they actively produce new forms of subjectivity, enabling empathy and collective responsibility across diversity, spanning race, class, and gender. Contrastingly, Van Den Eede’s works are often rooted in the philosophy of technology and engaging with McLuhan’s theories. Therefore, his arguments position media as extensions of human capacities that are relational rather than strictly instrumental. 

In conclusion, comparing the Landsberg and Van Den Eede readings reminds us that as media studies students, our task is both critical and reflective. Landsberg teaches us to pay attention to the embodied, affective, and political forces that shape our mediated experience, revealing the underlying power of media that can implant shared memories and encourage empathy and awareness. Meanwhile, Van Den Eede urges us to examine the conceptual tools we depend on daily. Ultimately, by using these metaphors of “extension” and “prosthesis” that redefine how we think about technology in relation to the human experience, we can begin to understand that media is never merely just an instrument or supplement, but an active mediation through which self and world continue to become clear.

By Kim Chi Tran & Nam Pham

References

Van Den Eede, Yoni. “Chapter 8 Extending ‘Extension.’” Design, Mediation, and the Posthuman, Lexington Books, 2014, pp. 151–69.

Landsberg, Alison. “Prosthetic Memory: Total Recall and Blade Runner.” Cyberspace/Cyberbodies/Cyberpunk: Cultures of Technological Embodiment, edited by Roger Burrows, Sage, 1995.

Other

Hey! I Saw Them Live*

7 Comments

Introduction

Alison Landsberg’s discussion of prosthetic memory and Yoni Van Den Eede’s concept of mediational extensions form a comprehensive analysis of how we interact with media in the modern day, and how this media ultimately impacts us and our sense of identities. This dynamic relationship, and the complexities it introduces into our lives, is applicable in our modern entertainment scene, particularly through studying how concerts and live performances have been transformed with the introduction of smartphones and personal digital recording devices. Laura Glitsos delineates the role of documentation in live music, and how this aspect of concerts has mutated as technology develops. These sources work together to provide an explanation for how these concepts work with one another and how they can be applied to situations in our modern world.

Media Extensions and Prosthetic Memories

Landsberg’s writing centres on memory and its place in our lives. Memories “validate our experiences” as by simply having a memory, one logically has the experience that it represents (176). However, Landsberg contradicts this notion of memory through her article’s primary focus: prosthetic memory. Prosthetic memories “do not come from a person’s lived experience in any strict sense”, and are instead the product of reliance on third-party influence to create the illusion of experience and memory (Landsberg 175). These third-parties are often technologies or media used as extensions of a person’s selfhood. Van Den Eede’s writings support Landsberg’s definition of prosthetic memory, explicitly describing technology as “an extension of the human being, of human organs, body parts, senses, capabilities, and so on”(153). As an extension of humanity, technology immediately becomes a form of prosthesis and, by effect, an integral asset in creating prosthetic memories. These “technologies [that] structure and circumscribe experience” texturize and dramaticize the contents of prosthetic memories, and are, at their core, vessels for communication (Landsberg 176).

In his discussion of media as an extension of humans, Van Den Eede continuously cites Marshall McLuhan. McLuhan emphasizes the roles of “rhetoric, grammar, and logic”, arguing that media “are linguistic entities that “translate one thing, that is, a human function, into another, that is, an artifact”(Van Den Eede 159). This theory corroborates both the process of mediation described in Tim Ingold’s, Making, and Gregory Bateson’s definition of language as a structure dependent on its context. As dictated by McLuhan, media communicates rhetoric using grammar that is understood through logic, mirroring the semiotic processes Tim Ingold uses to describe the process of making. Like Ingold, McLuhan views media as a sort of transducer, representing ideas in material form, enabling communication in our societies, and effectively acting as “the glue that binds our human reality together”(Ingold 102, Van Den Eede 159). Memories are the base of our realities, making this communication indescribably important in our lives.

Building off this semiotic model, McLuhan further describes media as “translations of us, the users, from one form into another form: metaphors”(Van Den Eede 159). He implores us to reconsider what language is, evoking Bateson’s definition of language as a “digital system” wherein “signs have no correspondence of magnitude” and thus the differences between these signs can only hold meaning “determined by reference to a larger system of rules within which that difference functions”(Wolfe 235). Per Bateson, language only holds meaning because of its structure, just as McLuhan’s definition of media holds that the true impact or meaning of media can only be understood within the larger context in which it is situated. Similarly, without context, our memories–natural and prosthetic–would be unintelligible and meaningless.

Effectively, prosthetic memories cannot exist without considering technology and media as an extension of ourselves, just as language is arguably an extension of ourselves. Landsberg and Van Den Eede’s works form a reciprocal relationship in the theories they espouse: as an extension of humanity, media becomes a vessel for prosthetic memory, while the creation of prosthetic memories give these media extensions a purpose.

Our Memories and Time

An interesting instance of Landsberg and Van Den Eede’s theories in practice is the increasing prevalence of digital recording technology in concert and live music spaces. Recording has long been an integral aspect of live music performances, to the extent that “the live performance is produced through the processes of recording” defining it as a cultural artefact “entwined with the aspects of that production”(Glitsos 35). However, the advent of the smartphone revolutionizes this aspect of concerts as users “not only view moving images but also [create] them”(Glitsos 36). This provides the viewer total agency over the narration of their experience, and thus the memories they create.

Landsberg categorizes memories as “a domain of the present” whose primary purpose is to construct strategies in the now through which someone can live in the future (176). In practice, concert-goers record videos and photographs as a precursor to potential memory lapse, effectively visuallizing a future wherein they forget the experience of the concert. However, in that process, we corrupt the experience of the concert with the documentation of the videos. The memories of the experience take precedence over the experience itself.

Related to this phenomenon, Fredric Jameson declared that we see “the waning of our historicity, of our lived possibility of experiencing history in some active way”(Landsberg 177). Essentially, in the age of post-modernity–increasingly so as the digital age progresses–true experience is dead. Instead, prosthetic memory has so thoroughly complicated the relationship between memory and experience that media is used to record our experiences to an extent that effectively transforms potential ‘real’ memories into prosthetic ones. Instead of watching the artists live and living truly in the present, we concern ourselves with the future, opting to watch the show through the screen of whatever recording device we brought.

A Dependance on Documentation

A byproduct of this relationship between extensions and prosthetic memories is the “unsettled boundaries between real and simulated [memories]” and the subsequent disruption “of the human body” and “its subjective autonomy”(Landsberg 175). Van Den Eede notes these disruptions, expanding on how “the technological extension of a human function produces a heightening of intensity within that function, body part or sense”(158). By exacerbating the strength of a human function, these technologies highlight the fallacies of the organic human form, including our ability to retain memories. Technology expedites the act of recording–a process that has traditionally been performed by a person and their memory–making it a readily available form of memory prosthesis. This immediacy of personal technologies facilitates a reliance on them, one that would ultimately be both a cause and effect of a general decline to our organic memories. For example, “the camera phone augments the drive to collect and save live music experiences” with the recordings’ ultimate purpose is to act as a preservation of the experience that can be repeated (Glitsos 37). We have access to our phones, so we use them in place of our eyes, experiencing a concert through a screen instead of in real-time.

Essentially: if there is an opportunity to record memories elsewhere, why would we rely on our fallible minds?  

Prosthetic Emotions 

Despite the questionable ways in which they are ultimately experienced, live music and concerts remain popular, speaking to a “popular longing to experience history in a personal and even bodily way”(Landsberg 178). Evidently, people still have a desire to create these memories of experiences even if their authenticity is debateable. This desire to “create experiences and to implant memories” of “[experiences] of which we have never lived” is motivated by how these memories become experiences that “consumers both possess and feel possessed by”(Landsberg 176). Prosthetic memories have a comparable impact on our selfhoods and identities to ‘real’ memories. Regardless of how they were ultimately created and recorded, the experiences feel real, and impact us accordingly. Though Landsberg’s example of films differentiates more distinctly between the prosthetic and the truly experienced, her concept is applicable to live performances as well. Concert-goers watch through their phones, corrupting the true experience, but the ultimate emotional impact of the experience “might be as significant in constructing, or deconstructing, the spectator’s identity as any experience that s/he actually lived through”(Landsberg 180).

The proportional impact that prosthetic memories have on our selves when compared to traditional memories suggests an eventual era when “we might no longer be able to distinguish prosthetic or ‘unnatural’ memories from ‘real’ ones”(Landsberg 180). Evidently, Landsberg views us and our media extensions as two distinctly separate entities. By contrast, Van Den Eede specifies that technology and media compensate for our own deficiencies “by taking action, more specifically by deploying tools and prostheses”(154). This definition is complicit in establishing a reliance on media that facilitates a codependent relationship between humans and their mediational extensions, yet the intended purpose of these extensions is to achieve things that we cannot perform organically. Through this relationship, the era of differentiation between prosthetic and ‘real’ memories has arguably already come to an end.

The allure of media extensions and their impact on the creation of memories is explicitly displayed in their superfluous use in live performance settings. Through our smartphones–the extensions and facilitators of prosthetic memories in this context–concert-goers become “both hero and narrator of their own epic”(Glitsos 40). The aforementioned agency provided by smartphones offers their users a form through which they can insert themselves into the recorded moment. This particular concept is ironic considering someone must be present to an experience to properly record it. However, these recordings give the user a point through which they can insert themselves once more in the moment once it has passed, further reinforcing Landsberg’s emphasis of memory as a function of the present.

Conclusion

Landsberg and Van Den Eede indirectly highlight a reciprocal relationship between the media extensions we use, and the prosthetic memories their use creates. These sources reformulate concepts we have discussed in class, further exemplifying language as defined by Bateson, and offering another layer of complexity to the theories proposed by Ingold through their dual citation of McLuhan. The complicated relationship between humans and their media extensions represent a transition into a new media era, and the prosthetic memories created through this relationship are symbols of the potential obsolescence of ‘real’ memory. These relationships and their consequences can be observed through our habitual use of smartphones in concerts and how they reflect many of the concepts that both Landsberg and Van Den Eede describe.

Works Cited

Glitsos, Laura. “The Camera Phoen in the Concert Space: Live Music and Moving Images on the Screen.” Music, Sound, and the Moving Image, vol. 12, no. 1, 2018, pp. 33-52. https://doi.org/10.3828/msmi.2018.2. 

Ingold, Tim. Making. Routledge Taylor & Francis Group, 2013.

Landsberg, Alison. “Prosthetic Memory: Total Recall and Blade Runner.” Cyberspace/Cyberbodies/Cyberpunk: Cultures of Technological Embodiment, edited by Mike Featherstone and Roger Burrows, SAGE Publications, 1995, pp. 175-189.

Van Den Eede, Yoni. “Extending “Extension”: A Reappraisal of the Technology-as-Extension idea through the Case of Self-Tracking Technologies.” Design Mediation & The Posthuman, Lexington Books, 2014, pp. 151-172.

Wolfe, Cary. “Language.” Critical Terms for Media Studies, edited by W.J.T Mitchell and Mark B.N. Hansen, The University of Chicago Press, 2010, pp. 233-248.

Image by Molly Kingsley

Written by Molly Kingsley

Other

Mediating Childhood Memories and Identity Through Lunch Bags

24 Comments

Introduction

I was helping my parents move into their new house this summer when I found my favourite lunch bag from primary school. It was a small, green rectangular bag, patched with two cute cats playing the piano. Although the bag was covered with an unidentifiable stain, I refused to let my parents throw it out. The lunch bag reminds me of the best parts of my childhood with all the things it once held. I remember the sound of my Mother placing my lunchbox on the kitchen counter before the school bus arrived. I remember the soft clatter of glass containers and metal utensils as I walked down the school hallways. Finally, I distinctly remember unpacking my lunch as the bell rang. Every hearty meal leaving me full and content. To me, salvaging this stained artifact was not at all gross, but rather a symbol of surviving years warm home cooked meals. 

Mediation

For more than a decade, my childhood lunch bag was a significant part of a daily ritual of nourishment and affection. It is an object that mediates between the self and the social world, serving as a middle ground for the private space of my home and the public sphere of my school. To reflect on the words of Sherry Turkle, she writes that theory enables us to “explore how everyday objects become part of our inner life” (Turkle). By taking a moment to appreciate how we use these mundane objects, we extend the reach of our sympathies for the memories, the people around us, and the world within it. Moving to Canada alone from Vietnam marked the moment I began packing my own lunches for the first time. Although the food in my new glass container was edible, and occasionally tasty, it was never the same without my Mother’s special touch. I realized that it is more than just about sustenance. A meal is a medium through which care, culture, and identity are communicated. We associate food with different cultures, nutrition, health, community, human rights, and so much more. As someone who has migrated a lot, I have always struggled to fully identify with my Vietnamese culture and heritage. Hence, this lunch bag is a testament to my belonging in all the places I have lived in as a child, when I was completely clueless to the gravity of any societal pressures to fit in. The rediscovery of this beautiful object of great sentimental value reminds me of the intimacy of past homes, friendships, and worries that are no longer in my life. 

Media Theory

Looking at my lunch bag through a media theory lens, I find that it echoes Marshall McLuhan’s ideas about objects being more just a vessel but the message itself. I vividly recall being in middle school, waiting for my friends to pick up their lunch bags off the shelves at the cafeteria table. I watched the abundance of colorful lunch bags go by, each a unique pattern and shape with the familiar names of my pupils scribbled in ink. The lunch bags are full of personality, their visibility communicating care, tradition, continuity, but also internationality. As I look at my own lunch bag now, I realize just how much objects can communicate, not through words but through materials, textures, and smells. Beyond just communication, the lunch bag can also be linked to Michel Foucault’s theory of the disciplinary society, which discusses how ordinary objects have the power to inscribe social norms into our bodies. Additionally, Bernadette Wegenstein’s chapter explores how the body as a medium of expression, through practices like dieting, can also shape how culture is lived and performed (Wegenstein). The lunch bags in the school cafeteria disciplines appetite and behaviour, as it is where we all learned the socially acceptable ways of eating, making social interactions, and what to subconsciously mask or perform. 

Conclusion

To my peers reading this who may also be navigating hybrid identities, I hope my exploration of childhood lunch bags speaks to a shared experience of mediation. Objects from the past are evocative, and often serve as important reminders that making peace with our identity does not only happen through language or policy, but it can happen through small, material gestures. I do not need to know the root cause of the bag’s stains and loose threads to admire its ability to translate love into something edible, something visible. That visibility is doing what Turkle says evocative objects do, “bringing philosophy down to earth” (Turkle). As the lunch bag mediates between theory and lived experience, it becomes a marker of difference, my personal signal of foreignness, and ultimately embodies the distance between my Mother’s kitchen at home and my rental space in Vancouver.

How about you? What do you carry with you when you move between worlds?

References

Turkle, Sherry. “What Makes an Object Evocative?” Evocative Objects, by Sherry Turkle, The MIT Press, 2007, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5hhg8p.39. Accessed 6 Oct. 2025.

Wegenstein, Bernadette. “Body.” Critical Terms for Media Studies, by W. J. T. Mitchell and Mark B. N. Hansen, University of Chicago Press, 2010, pp. 19–34.

Other

Life Long Comforts: How Objects From Early Childhood Stay With Us For Life.

4 Comments

(The earliest photo I can find of the blanket, vs my blanket this week)

[Prefix: I am just a girl, and when writing this felt quite vulnerable with the idea that I would share it with you. My mom reminded me that while vulnerability feels like a weakness to ourselves, it looks like courage to others. So be nice!!]

When we’re babies, we’re given many toys, stuffies, and blankets, but many of us grow an attachment to just one particular thing. In my family, we refer to that one thing as a “Lovey”. Many children begin to lose their attachment to their lovey when they enter their teens, sometimes younger, sometimes older. Others hold onto that attachment for life. Clearly, there was a gene in my family that made us so attached to our Loveys; both my parents still have teddy bears that they were given as young children and held onto. For me, my object was my little pink blanket. 

The blanket itself is not impressive. I’ve been told and seen in photos that my blanket was soft and bright pink at first, but as far as I can remember, it’s been rough and white. It’s about 2ft by 3ft, and literally tearing at the seams. It’s worth nothing, but to me it is worth everything. To me, it’s worth going back to my house to grab it in an emergency, or pack fewer clothes than I need to bring it with me on trips; it’s even to come to friends’ houses with me. This blanket has moved houses with me eleven times and has spent the last 20 years with me. It is, without a doubt, 100% a security blanket. It is an analog of my emotional data. Each tear or stain is a sign, an index of past use and care. It bridges my past and present, mediating the “temporal aspects” of experience, as it literally allows me to relive or re-access memories and moments of safety and comfort from earlier stages in my life. In this way, it shows how media and memory are coextensive, and how even a humble object can serve as a living archive of feeling. 

But to me, it’s so much more than a blanket, and it offers me so many affordances. It allows me comforted sleep at night, it offers me warmth. The blanket acts as an anchor, a constant in my life, and stays with me every night when I am most vulnerable; when I’m asleep. The affordances of comfort aren’t inherent to my blanket alone, it emerged through embodiment, my lived experience and relationship with it over time. In McLuhan’s terms, “The medium is the message”, the way my blanket soothes and anchors me is inseparable from what it is, a soft, small, familiar object.

My blanket is a medium of experience, just like how our bodies are a medium of human experience. Like Turkle’s evocative objects, it’s both loved and thought with, my emotional companion and tool for reflection on things in my life. The blanket mediates my feelings on such a wide spectrum, in moments of joy and in moments of hardship, it is always waiting for me, wherever my “home” at the time has been. It is something that knows everything about me, and yet nothing at all (because it’s just a blanket, not a conscious thing). It acts as a technological medium in miniature, something that stands in the middle between my inner world and my external world, helping me process and feel my emotions and transitions. 

As we continue through time and advances in technology, I can’t help but think about how much media is experienced through their physical qualities, and how that meaning is threatened by the digital age as we become more abstracted from material experience in a digital world. My blanket is lived and tangible, and stands as an opposition to the transition into digital mediators. It reaffirms the importance of touch, texture, smell, and material presence in the making of meaning. Nothing digital could replace any aspect of my blanket, material or immaterial in meaning. It is also an active counter to dematerialized media: a reminder that mediation can be intimately physical and that memory is not just cognitive, but physical and textual. Would a carpet still feel the same on a phone screen? Would the Mona Lisa be as popular if it were only to be seen digitally? My blanket is also a great example of Eco’s “vegetal memory”- memory preserved in organic material. It stores my personal information and history in its fabric, colour, tears and frays

If we were to think about my blanket with some critical theoretical insight, it could teach us that media are not always obvious or high-tech, mediation begins with everyday objects that are transformed to have meaning. The comfort, touch, and emotional security are themselves mediated experiences that can change an object’s meaning. The memory is not abstract or purely cognitive but entangled with physical matter. The theories of media and mediation must include the affective and tactile, not just the visual or digital. 

In closing, my blanket shows how mediation begins with the material and personal, not just digital or technological media. It embodies the link between body, memory, and materiality, showing that meaning and comfort are felt through touch and texture. It illustrates Turkle’s idea of evocative objects as things that are both loved and thought with/through. It reflects Gibson and McLuhan’s affordances, as my blanket’s value comes from what it allows, which is warmth, safety, and reflection. Its value is not determined by what it physically is. It reminds me that media theory isn’t only about our devices or information, but also how objects can mediate our relationships with the world and ourselves. And ultimately, it teaches me that mediation is intimate and embodied, a process that connects mind, matter, and memory across time. 

Thanks for reading!

Critical Concept Explication, Other

The Real in the Virtual and the Virtual in Reality:

6 Comments

Since the 19th century, there have been numerous attempts at what we now know as “virtual reality”, including the concept of the stereoscope, to the more modern “Sensorama” invented by Cinematographer Morton Heilig in the latter half of the 20th century. However, the age of VR only came into existence later, in the 2010s, with the commercialisation of VR headsets from Oculus and Hive. The concept of “virtual reality” aims to replicate a multi-sensory experience of reality through the projection of a 3D environment, paired with surround sound and, often, controllers that allow players to control the movements of their characters by moving around themselves. 

Thus, arises the question, to what extent is VR real and to what extent is our reality nowadays considered virtual? In accordance with the critical concept of “senses”, we will aim to make this question clear through the lens of critical media theory. 

Throughout the world’s historical development, Ancient Greek thinkers regarded philosophical reasoning as the way to truly understand reality, most famously, Plato, with his Allegory of the Cave. Where he presented a prisoner shackled to the walls of a cave, where the prisoners perceive the projected shadows of objects as the objects themselves, for they can not turn around, and thus, they are unaware of the illusion being carried out.

In this sense, I propose a thought experiment to better explicate the implications of VR on our senses. Imagine a child, from the moment that it is born up to adulthood, has its head bound to a VR set and, as such, experiences reality through the mediation of the device. With its sense of hearing and sight greatly blinded to the truth of reality, as in the case of the prisoner in Plato’s cave. 

For this person, their perception of reality would be greatly shaped by their immediate experience via the headset, and thus, we must concede that the supposedly “virtual” would have to qualify as the “real” in this case, for this is the person’s only real experience of their world from a first-person perspective. Now, let us dive into a second experiment: what if we are in a simulation – as Descartes famously asked, how would we know on grounds of our senses that we are not in a dream? Then, would it not be logical to regard the world as we know it as something unreal and ultimately virtual? Through these thought experiments, it is thus reasonable to agree with Plato’s criticism of the dependency of the 5 senses to make sense of one’s reality, as we are easily deceived by them without the human faculty to reason. 

With technological advancements quickly growing, especially of VR headsets, the line between reality and virtuality is increasingly blurred day by day. Our sense of the world is greatly mediated and, in effect, somewhat virtual. According to Kittler’s technological determinism approach, which is also backed by Karl Marx’s argument. It is theorised that the media changes our senses. That is our personal interaction with the world, the ways our senses come into contact with the technology and political economies shape who we are.

In accordance with our main interest, VR can be seen to have greatly redefined and influenced our perception of the concept of reality and virtuality by blurring the line between them. Smartphones are also a more direct and immediate representation of this concept. In modern days, smartphone culture has literally rewired our brains biologically, as our eye pattern adapts to the constant scroll and scanning. The ways we perceive connections and communication have also changed. As we engage in social media culture, we are part of a virtual sphere of human interaction that is undeniably real, only that it is not physical. We are thus qualitatively changing into a species that now has technology – virtuality intertwined within its existence, and must also concede that our reality is also somewhat virtual.

In extending the many theories of senses into a media scape like virtual reality, the line between McLuhan and Kittler’s arguments is complicated. On one hand, VR creates a barrier within  Marshall McLuhan’s idea that the human body extends its senses through media. The notion that our senses can be extended through VR is a bit hard to support when considering that only our vision and often touch is supported into this medium. Additionally it’s hard to accept the surreality of it all, as mentioned earlier, it blurs our perception of reality, quite literally. 

Through our other theorist, Friedrich Kittler, we can consider VR a process of shaping our senses. For example, our vision, rather than VR extending it, the virtuality is changing what we understand as our senses, most effectively, our vision. As media shapes what we understand as sight, VR has dramatically warped this. Understanding through our experiences of combining the senses with sight to interact with our world, the communication of these functions has been fundamentally reshaped.

In conclusion, it is undeniable that the historical development of media has now led us to a present and future where virtuality finally dances with reality in a waltz; consider their performance our experience of life. Acknowledging the limitations of our senses and the endless possibilities that VR has to offer, the moment reality fails to catch up with its partner is when we, the audience, lose track of the dance. The waltz can be interpreted as a balance that must be maintained, as the audience may very well fail to properly appraise the solo performance that virtuality has to offer and thus, never be able to make sense of their lives. 

Nam Pham & Maxine Gray