And here I was for the past 10 weeks feeling all smug that I was learning the ins and outs (a small, tiny, minuscule amount of the ins and outs mind you) about archiving when all along, Bam! You, I, and millions of other people are already pro archivists. What the heck am I going on about now? This week we researched and analyzed the digital archive, the one’s most familiar to us such as Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Pinterest, and so on. In her article MyMemories? Joanne Garde-Hansen asks “what is at stake when memories and identities are practised on Facebook?” In a theoretical framework and referencing to Jacques Derrida (yay – see blog post #3 for some more Derridean concepts) she analyzes how “Facebook may not be a liberating personal memory at all but enslaving it within a corporate collective in order to shore up abiding ideologies through its public sphere and commercial activities.” Scary right? Yes. It is scary. I really enjoyed the article and have included a link at the end of this post because I am not able to discuss 97% of it on here but would encourage anyone to take a read through it (it’s short don’t worry).
Joanne Garde-Hansen looks at how the SNS creates a representation of one’s life, an identity if you will. She notes Danah Boyd’s and claims, “through the act of articulation and writing oneself into being, all participants are engaged in performance intended to be interpreted and convey particular impressions.” Now, personally, this is the exact reason I do not have Instagram. I spent one year with an Instagram account. When I looked back at my profile I saw a collection of images that were supposed to represent me, Schyler Faye Edmundson, in a light accessible to anyone else on Instagram – or the Internet for that matter. So what was the issue? Well, I guess three things, firstly I didn’t like the idea of being judged from complete third parties who likely knew nothing about me based on a collection of images I thought were cool. Secondly, I guess I didn’t like the images that much. I mean, some people have amazing accounts that look like they are curated by professional photographers and designers and it made me feel insecure in comparison. That brings me to the third point, not only did Instagram make me feel insecure because of my mediocre photography abilities, but the astonishing level of “skinny babes,” “cosmetic junky,” and “gym buff” profiles were nearly impossible to escape which I also don’t think is healthy to be surrounded by. Overall, I thought the website was unabashedly narcissistic and inauthentic. Here I am again picking at the idea of the “authentic archive” again but think about it. Back in weeks 1 and 3 of this blog I questioned the idea of an archive that was created and sold to an institution on behalf of the person who the archive was about. What does this mean in terms of “true” materials and representation? What did the author intentionally omit, or include, portraying them in a certain manner? And, how does this affect the archive? I came to the conclusion that the idea of creating your own archive for profit rubbed me the wrong way, although I can’t knock it completely because we have, from this process, been given some incredible archival collections. I suppose it makes sense then that social media also rubs me the wrong way. For the most part, I don’t appreciate the idea of creating a self-identity online that the world gets to judge you on. We have enough judgement in our non-cyber lives. But again, like my experience with the tangible archives, there are some cases where the final result is glorious, just like some Facebook pages and Instagram accounts are epic and beautiful.
Secondly, social media and the Internet, in general, can be detrimental and dangerous. Not only does it leave you exposed, but also it exposes you to an endless sea of information with an almost impossible way to tell what information is truth or fictional. Not too mention the reality hunting that “Nothing is forgotten” once it reaches the Internet. As mentioned by Joanne Garde-Hansen, once you create a Facebook page, you have zero rights to any of your images ever again:
“Anyone in any doubt, as to Facebook’s hermeneutic rights need only read its ‘Proprietary Rights in Site Content’ which disallows ‘site content’ to be ‘modified, copied, distributed, framed, reproduced, republished, downloaded, scraped, displayed, posted, transmitted, or sold in any form by any means’ without written permission” (Facebook, 2008).
This is terrifying because anyone can take your pictures and post them anywhere else on the internet using your face, your name, and your “identity” however they like. The article also touches on how “[Facebook] designers and serious users are not to suffer the same fate as Friendster when it found itself submerged in a war with Fakesters, Fraudsters and Pretenders who challenged the rules of authenticity, identity and copyright.” – Well, not necessarily. Firstly, anyone with an email address can create a Facebook page – that email address can be fake, of course – and then they can post any images they like – again, these can be anyone’s images – and Bam! You have a fake Facebook profile. Well, what’s the point of this fake profile? Like most things in disguise, I would suggest that a fake Facebook profile is most commonly used to spy on other people, or “communities” to borrow Joanne Garde-Hansen’s term. The actual reason for creating a false profile is impossible to know, however, it does illuminate the idea of an unauthentic archive once again.
So “what is at stake when memories and identities are practised on Facebook?” Well, to start our privacy, our true identity, and our control over this newly created identity are all in the hands of whoever decides to pick them up. Unlike the academic archive, social media based archives are unstable in that they are far more susceptible to manipulation and so often blur the line between authenticity and forgery.
Until next time,
Best.
Recommended Source Link:
Garde-Hansen, Joanne. “MyMemories? Personal Digital Archival Fever and Facebook.” Save As…Digital Memories. Ed. Joanne Garde-Hansen, Andrew Hoskins, and Anna Reading. London: Palgrave MacMillan, 2009. 135-50.
http://ds.haverford.edu/fortherecord/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Garde-Hansen.pdf