Dr. Louis
N. Sandowsky
Philosophy,
Fantasy and Film
Twentieth Century Voyeurism
(Louis
Sandowsky, Linda
and Orly Abergel)
Nineteen
Eighty Four –
VCV 1769, Rear Window – VCV 867, The Truman Show
(on order), Strange Days (on order), Sex, Lies and Videotape (on
order)
1.
Looking at The Look
We are all fascinated with the
power of film and television to draw us into a variety of different scenarios,
where our intimacy with that which is played out on screen does not actually
require our participation. It does not put us at risk. It is to see
without being seen. On the other side of the same coin, our active lives
put us in the position of being subject to the other pole of this dyad:
being-seen without seeing. Although
the first form does not require personal involvement per se, we do become
involved in a voyeuristic way. We
may begin by looking at three technical terms that are fundamentally
intertwined in this regard:
i. Scopophilia: pleasure [philia] in looking [scopo].
There is a considerable diversity of different forms. We shall focus on two
types. One form objectifies the Other, actively turning them into mere objects,
while the second form involves an empathic relation with the Other, where one
passively lives ‘through the Other as a subject’).
ii. The Gaze or The Look: makes
reference to the penetrative gaze of the Other. It is the moment at which one
becomes aware that one is being seen, evaluated, judged, etc. It marks a shift
in one’s relation to oneself – invoking a reflective turn upon the manner in
which one appears to the Other (and not just to oneself).1
Jean
Paul Sartre
devoted a chapter in his book Being and Nothingness [BN], to the subject
of the Look or Gaze. He focuses, in particular, on the ways in which The Look objectifies
the other. Sartre’s most familiar example of this
type of scopophilia revolves about the classic scenario in which one may be
caught looking through a keyhole. The field of view is purely for the one who
is looking. However, when a noise is heard the subject, for whom the events are
playing themselves out, turns to find that they are now the object of another’s
Look. Thus revealed to this Look, one finds oneself objectified and categorised
as a peeping tom. In this instance, the Look provokes a feeling of shame. (BN.
Sartre, p.260).
iii. The Panopticon: all [pan] seeing [opticon] is an
architectural form (originally conceived by the British philosopher Jeremy Bentham)
that embodies the structure of seeing without being-seen. It is a mechanism of
power-play that is at work within the structure of society at virtually every
level, from military strategy and prisons to schools, hospitals and television
(see Foucault, Discipline and Punish). It
derives from an architecture of control, which is inaugurated as a means of
procuring strict discipline through segregation and observation.
2. Different Permutations of Seeing Without Being-Seen and
Being-Seen Without Seeing
The
nineteenth century Philosopher Jeremy Bentham coined the expression
"Panopticon" for what is essentially an observational machine. It has
become the principal model of how individual and group control is managed and
maintained in contemporary society. It has also become one of the most popular
devices of entertainment in the media. Bentham
originally visualized the panopticon as an architectural form that could be
used by the penal system. Here, the prisoners occupy individual cells, which
make up a circular group. They cannot see one another and they cannot see the
guards who occupy a tower that is at the centre of the structure. However, the
guards can see them at any time they choose. Prisoners cannot know when they
are being observed, but an unseen presence is always felt. Those who are
observed are never free of the feeling that they are being constantly subjected
to The Look. In this case, the very invisibility of the wardens, the
impossibility of knowing when they are actually watching, is an essential part
of their power. Bentham realized that there was an
array of possible uses for this optical machine for observing without being
observed.
Television
programmes like "Big Brother" (2000) and "Jailbreak" (2000)
use these varied seen / seeing structures (and therefore, certain structures of
powerplay) which appeal to the scopophilia or voyeurism of the audience (and
the exhibitionistic personality traits of the participants). These shows are
only possible because of the availability of panoptic technology. The
participants in these programmes are people who volunteer to be observed in
various social situations over an extended period of time. One of the original
guiding ideas behind the production of this type of ‘entertainment’ had to do
with the presentation of a real slice of life. However, although the
participants do not know which precise moments will be seen by the audience,
since they do not have editorial control, there is clearly a kind of Heisenberg effect at work – whereby their behavioural
patterns are affected by the observational medium itself. The behaviour of the
participants alters over time as they are forced into the position of seeing
themselves as objects of the Other’s (the audience’s) Look. What is most
disturbing and fascinating about this type of show is the vast number of
viewers attracted to these kinds of programmes.
When
considering television shows like "Big Brother" and
"Jailbreak", we have to look at the degree to which the behaviour of
those who are being observed are affected by this knowledge. So, although, the
format is meant to show ‘how’ people behave in a relatively natural
environment, it actually sets up an unnatural atmosphere precisely because we
do not live our day to day lives as if we are being observed twenty four hours
a day by an unseen eye. On the other hand, if we look at the
film, The Truman Show we see a more specific form of being-seen without
any knowledge of being seen. This movie explores the theme in great depth. The
main character, Truman, the one who is
being observed, is completely unaware of his true state of affairs. He does not
know that he was adopted as a child by a television network and raised in a
vast theatre, where the population ‘acts’ out the appearance of a normal
society. For twenty-four hours each day, he can be seen going about his day to
day life in the most intimate detail. Truman
is completely oblivious of the fact that he is actually the star of an
international television show.
The scenario
is a paranoid nightmare, where everyone else is clued in to the true state of
affairs, acting out a living, while Truman
does not have such knowledge. Therefore, he does not moderate or restrict his
pattern of behaviour. He is not constantly aware of his own actions. He does
not live his life thinking about how he is perceived. This
lack of awareness that he is being observed means that he does not need to take
care about the image that he is projecting to other people. Unlike the citizen
of George Orwell’s book, Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949),
he is not pre-occupied with the need to perform. Truman
is the only authentic person in his inauthentic world – the 'true-man.'
If we return
to the expression scopophilia (which means pleasure in looking), we can
classify the two forms that have been discussed so far in the following terms:
The Look that
objectifies (active) – to look at.
The Look that empathizes (passive)
– to look with.
The values of the cinema-going and
television audience have changed over time. This can be attributed to various
changes in both film and technology. The early days of film
reveled in slapstick humour. What stands out here is a rather cruel form of
relation to the misfortunes of the characters on screen. There is a process of
objectification at work through which the audience is invited to laugh at the
performers as opposed to laughing with them. This is a style that is still very
much at work in many forms of animation – which is a principal part of their
appeal, e.g., the classic Tom and Jerry cartoons, Tex Avery's work, etc. In
contrast to this type of seeing, most contemporary media forms invite the
audience to empathize with the characters and their situations. Soap Operas are
a strong example of this kind of seeing. The audience can be drawn into the
plot, to live it with the characters in the comfort of their own home, without
actually putting themselves at risk. It is only the theatrical characters that
have to bear the actual consequences. It represents one way in which the
audience can imagine that they are doing more than just vegetating in front of
the television. In many ways, the members of the audience are able to brighten
up their own lives by being emotionally involved with these fictitious
characters and situations, which often incorporate many real life scenarios
but, once again, without having to put themselves at risk.
In the same way,
the audience is invited to empathize with Truman,
the main character of the film, The Truman
show. This picture manages to capture the imagination of a cinema going
audience that is becoming increasingly aware of the panoptic elements at work
in contemporary society. Every moment of Truman’s
life is potentially on view. When he talks to himself in the mirror, it is on
full display to others. When he discusses his life with his best friend, it is
an intimacy that pours out of millions of television sets – a betrayal to
Truman, while assuring his ‘best friend’ the highest honours for his acting
abilities. There is only ever the ‘appearance’ of sincerity. It
is only because of a moment of honest intervention from an outside source that
he gradually comes to be suspicious of the authenticity of his world. At this
point, we, the audience, can empathize with his feelings of paranoia. The
question of whether ‘one’ could be the lone subject of a vast experiment would
seem to be too fantastic to contemplate, and yet it is a familiar fantasy – or
nightmare. One generally reasons one’s way out of such a proposition for
reasons of economy.
Within the
boundaries of the film narrative itself, the show is a money-spinner for the
network. Whereas the general viewing audience is entranced by Truman’s life in an empathic sense, the producers of
the show are maintaining a vast observational machine in which Truman is nothing more than an asset, property, a
lucrative ‘object.’ It is the vastness of the show’s audience and the intensity
of its enthusiasm that makes it economically possible to establish and maintain
what is a tantamount to being a vast conspiracy against one man.
Theoretically, Truman is free to leave. But, this is actually a
disingenuous claim on the part of the producers, who have written his
life-context in such a way as to really deny him the ability to act on the
desire to leave the only world with which he is familiar. For example, his fear
of making the ferry crossing (the dread of crossing water in general) away from
his world is the result of conditioning – an overwhelming feeling of guilt over
the 'apparent' death by drowning of his 'father' (who was simply written out of
the programme). Chillingly, his mother would assure him in a platitudinous tone
that she had never 'blamed' him for the boat accident. Choices are always
context-driven, and since his life-context has been written for him, his
decisions remain within the limits imposed by the writers of his prison.
Fueled by a warning
from a young woman earlier in the film (with whom Truman
is in love), our protagonist takes a leap beyond mere paranoia and really
begins to look at his environment and the people who populate it. In a moment
of intense susceptibility to the feeling that he is the object of The Look, he
bends down in the street as if to tie his shoe laces and carefully begins to
study those about him. He stands behind a lamppost, so as not to be noticed, in
order to see without being seen. He looks for ‘signs’ of the invisible eyes
that are monitoring him and then takes bolder steps to see if he can initiate
any visible responses.
The audience empathizes with his
efforts (both the audience that is internal to the film’s narrative, and
ourselves, the audience that is watching the film of The Truman Show),
perhaps feeling that his struggle is also theirs / ours. Ultimately, Truman seeks to transgress the limits of his mere
visibility as an ‘object’ in order to become wholly visible as a ‘subject.’
The tension that holds in The Look –
between ‘being visible as an object’ and ‘standing out as a subject’ has been
explored in great detail in existential philosophy – particularly in the
writing of Jean-Paul Sartre
and Albert Camus. Sartre’s
play, Huis Clos (In Camera / No Exit), is a disturbing
examination of how the objectification of oneself by the Other’s Gaze is
something that cannot be avoided; hence, "Hell is other People."
Unlike the Panopticon, where an invisible watcher is an all-seeing ‘Big
Brother,’ and where the subjects / objects of observation do not actually see
or interact with one another, Sartre’s hell is about being seen by one’s peers
in the absence of an all-seeing power. There is no one to arbitrate. There is
no one total perspective. There is only endless repetition and limitless forms
of viewpoint – conflict without the possibility of consensus.
Sexual powerplay is
an exemplary instance of the interplay of the two orientations of scopophilia,
which have been discussed so far. Given the marketing power of this dimension of
human interaction, we can readily find a multiplicity of different forms of The
Look in the media, literature, and fashion. Fashion, particularly in terms of
the way in which it drives the clothing industry, is a classic sphere in which
we find pleasure in being seen in operation alongside the desire to be
invisible – to melt into the mass. Part of the way in which we define ourselves
has to do with the ways in which we imagine that we are being perceived. In
other words, the power structures of The Look are always already at work in our
own sense of Self. They are integrated into the very fold of our self-relation,
determining, in turn, how we perceive others.
3. Panoptical Power
Michel Foucault’s
discourse on the Panopticon, in the 1977 text, Discipline and Punish,
focuses on a diverse range of ways in which this ‘optical mechanism’ has
insinuated itself into the fabric of society as a means of mass control. It
manifests itself in almost every aspect of the social order. The Panoptical
machine has a controlling influence precisely because the observers cannot
be seen. This overturns the view that those who are in power can only maintain
control by being a ‘visible’ force. It is the transcendence of the observer
that signifies the real power to control.
The concept of the
Panopticon introduced a new form of economy for mass-control. All the
disciplinary work is actually done by those who are subject to The Look.
Although the observers need not be looking all the time, those who are observed
can never know when they are being seen. The feeling of being seen is
continuous, whereas the ‘actual’ seeing is not. It is the very invisibility of
the observers that adds to their power. The most significant literary example
of this mechanism at work is George Orwell’s 1949 novel, Nineteen
Eighty-Four. The political force is unseen and yet absolute. This is the
power of the invisible all-seeing eye.
Foucault
writes,
Hence the major effect of the Panopticon:
to induce in the inmate a state of conscious and permanent visibility that
assures the automatic functioning of power. So to arrange things that the
surveillance is permanent in its effects, even if it is discontinuous in its
action; that the perfection of power should tend to render its actual exercise
unnecessary; that this architectural apparatus should be a machine for creating
and sustaining a power relation independent of the person who exercises it; in
short, that the inmates should be caught up in a power situation of which they
are themselves the bearers. To achieve this, it is at once too much and too
little that the prisoner should be closely observed by an inspector; too
little, for what matters is that he knows himself to be observed; too much,
because he has no need in fact of being so (Discipline and Punish. p.201).
Foucault shows how the mechanisms of control
through observation originated from the need for quarantine, such as leper
colonies, towns that had been stricken by the plague, etc. The evolution of
these techniques still maintains references to the idea of possible contagious
diseases and the necessity of exclusion through containment and strict
observation. Control has become associated with the idea of maintaining a
system by means of mechanisms that safeguard it from contamination (political, ideological,
or biological). Through the use of "…procedures of individualisation to
mark exclusion, this is what was operated regularly by disciplinary power from
the beginning of the nineteenth century in the psychiatric asylum, the
penitentiary, the reformatory, the approved school and, to some extent, the
hospital" (Ibid, p.199). The containment
of individual cells does not allow the possibility of the spread of ideas,
which could undermine the ruling power that is in total control. Segregation is
a very powerful tool, not only when there are biological considerations, but
also in the horizons of the political and social.
Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four is
an exercise in the study of the limits of such mechanisms to control the
social-political arena. These mechanisms are even integrated into language
itself. ‘Newspeak’ is a highly reductive language, whose design excludes any
possibility of finding expression for discontent or criticism of the governing
power. The novel begins with the clocks striking thirteen. The main character,
Winston Smith returns to his flat at Victory Mansions on a bright cold day in
April. As he enters the building, we are told,
The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At
one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked
to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the
face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and ruggedly
handsome features…On each landing, opposite the lift shaft, the poster with the
enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one was one of those pictures which
are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption
beneath it ran (Nineteen Eighty Four. p.3).
This passage illustrates that the power of The
Party (Big Brother) is absolute. It is everywhere and nowhere. It is omniscient
and omnipotent, while its omnipresence is precisely nothing other than its
invisibility. What this means is that there is only a numerous array of signs
referring to The Party. These signs remind the population that they are under
observation, although the watching eyes themselves are never actually seen.
In this world, the television has a very different function – or, rather it
comprises other functions that maintain control over the viewer.
Behind Winston’s back the voice from the telescreen
was still babbling away about pig iron and the overfulfillment of the Ninth
Three-Year Plan. The telescreen received and transmitted simultaneously. Any
sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked
up by it; moreover, as long as he remained within the field of vision, which
the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of
course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment.
How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual
wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the
time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You
had to live – did live, from habit that became instinct – in the assumption
that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every
movement scrutinised (Ibid. p.4).
The
telescreen is the primary mechanism of observation and control in Winston’s
world. It is an exemplary instance of the sheer power of the Panoptic mechanism
at work. Many new televisions in our time are automatically being equipped with
internet capabilities – and internet conferencing taps into Orwellian-like
tele-screen technology.
4. Technology’s Shadow
What began as a
method of segregating plague towns as a general rule of quarantine and
observation has evolved into an economy of control that has superseded its
original application. Michel Foucault demonstrates that the power mechanisms at
work in society (particularly those of an observational kind, e.g., its
Panoptic architecture) indicate how we are never very far removed from ‘power
for power sake,’ e.g., absolutism, nazism, etc. It is only the regulating
bodies at work in society, which, through legislation, temper their use – that
is, according to the principles of justice by which that society defines
itself. Nazism, for instance, represents non-philosophy – or rather, if we see
philosophy as a form of narrative by which society defines its goals, then
nazism is nothing more than the narrative of power for its own sake. It is a
shadow that always accompanies the technology of observation.
In
George Orwell’s dystopic world of Nineteen Eighty Four, the Party of Big
Brother is the regulative overlord of this body politic – one that is
characterised as a boot stamping on the face of humanity. The ‘threat’ of
continuous observation by the State is that which disciplines each individual
into perpetual self-observation. The threat forces the individual to be aware
of their behaviour and to ‘perform’ in a manner that is in accordance with the
behavioural tenets that are laid down by the ‘virtual’ eye. Of course, this
mechanism of forced self-observation is at work in contemporary Western society
as well. It has insinuated itself in the ways in which we relate to our peers,
lovers, co-workers, etc. It is as if this mechanism is responsible for a certain
kind of inner fragmentation. For example, fashion dictates how we should appear
to ourselves, in some cases confusing the margins between reality and what is
actually seen. In its most fundamental sense, anorexia is a perceptual problem.
The sufferer does not see the emaciated image that stands before them. The
reflection does not fulfil that which the anorexic has been conditioned to see.
Increasing
awareness amongst the general public regarding their day-to-day visibility is
quite clearly a contributing factor in the evolution of interest in television
shows like "Big Brother" and "Jailbreak." The success of
films like The Truman Show is another example. One could argue that the
seductive nature of the soap opera format on television is another indication
of how we, the audience, like to play Peeping Tom to scenes that are analogous
to our own everyday lives – where there is an empathic connection with the
protagonists as they play out their day-to-day dramas. On the one hand, it is a
mechanism through which the audience can observe themselves: a voyeurism in the
service of a narcissistic impulse, and on the other hand, it is to appropriate
a position of power by becoming the judging eye that is invisible to all but
itself. The film, Slither, is an example of this desire, and the movie, Sex,
Lies and Videotape takes the theme even further by exploring the
fundamental voyeuristic components of our sexual drives.
Of
course, we, the audience, always participate in a kind of voyeurism – to play
benign Big Brothers. There is a kind of comfort to be obtained in the
reassurance that one can observe without being observed. Alfred Hitchcock’s
film, Rear Window, makes this thematic. The main protagonist, played by
James Stewart, is a photographer who has been an invalid for several weeks.
Unable to leave his apartment, because of a broken leg, his boredom drives him
to start peeping on his neighbours. The architectural structure of his
apartment block allows him to see into the lives of some of the other tenants.
He and his girlfriend, played by Grace Kelly, consider the ethical implications
of his obsessive observations. In turn, Hitchcock weaves a visual narrative
that forces us to ask ourselves the same question in relation to our collective
role as a film-going audience.
Scopophilia Rules!
To what
extent is the audience really benign? Desire creates markets and, in the case
of authentic ‘snuff-movies,’ the audience is caught up in a relation of
complicity with their very production.
5. The
First-Person Perspective
Self-fueling
curiosity about what it is like to live inside the skin of others continues to
seed itself in the direction of observational technology and the use of
first-person perspective entertainment (later in the course, we shall look at the excellent film, Being
John Malkovich). Apart from the obvious forms of pleasure that are
associated with the willing suspension of disbelief, identification with heroic
figures, exotic scenarios, love situations, etc., cathartic voyeurism ranging
from the viewing of simple day to day experiences (à la soap opera) to
pornographic ‘hard-core’ films, there is another form that appeals to a
primordial type of anxiety – an anxiety related to death.
Horror
movies often utilize first-person perspective techniques to enhance the
movie-going experience of terror. The vicarious nature of cinematic experience
inevitably tends toward the use of this device. Michael Powell’s film, Peeping
Tom took the first-person perspective to its next stage, by exploring the
deadly fetish of a photographer who likes to film his murder victims seeing
themselves being murdered (by a stabbing weapon protruding from the tripod of a
camera, with an attached mirror in which the victims see themselves). This
imaginary story of ‘snuff’ revolted the audiences of the early sixties, because
of the techniques that it employed to invite them into a more intimate form of
association with the scenario.
To see how compelling the theme of
living vicariously through the other is and, at the same time, to see how its
expression has evolved in order to keep pace with more sophisticated audiences,
we may turn to the film, Strange Days (written by James Cameron and Jay
Cocks, and directed by Kathryn Bigelow). This film reprises the nightmare scenario
of viewing someone in a state of terror in seeing their own impending death.
The movie explores 1999 turn of the century voyeurism, by pushing it to its
limits. It presents a science-fiction technology, developed for police
surveillance, which consists of a headset that digitally records the direct
experiences and memories of the wearer. It makes it possible to record not only
what someone sees, but also how it feels and smells, as if from the ‘inside-out.’ It represents an
extension and deepening of the first-person perspective.
The principal protagonist, Lenny
Nero (played by Ralph Fiennes) is an ex cop who sells wholly immersive
‘black-market’ pornography, which has been produced with this new technology.
It is so completely immersive that by wearing the headset in playback mode, one
literally experiences everything that was seen and felt by the one who made the
recording. The vicarious element is minimized to the degree that the audience actually
‘lives’ the experience from the ‘inside-out.’ One day, Fiennes’ character
receives a package, which contains a recording of someone raping and murdering
a young woman. What is truly terrifying and grotesque is that the recording
shows the victim wearing a headset and that her last moments of life were spent
‘living’ the thrill of her rapist / murderer taking his pleasure – in other
words, by experiencing her rape and murder through him.
There is another
medium of immersion, that is not merely science fiction, which has tapped into
this universal scopophilia – contemporary first-person perspective computer
games (in which one can die most impressively as often as one likes). Utilizing
much of the cinematic grammar that is at work today, these games invite the
audience into virtual worlds precisely in order to participate in the ways in
which they unfold – a participative voyeurism. The movement toward total
immersion in these first-person perspective role-playing games seems to be
fuelled by a voyeuristic tendency that is not only still alive and kicking, but
also evolving into new dimensions – where voyeurism combines active
participation but, once again, without any risk.
The production of
optical and other forms of technology that were originally developed for
surveillance and control is exploding into new horizons. As well as curtailing
certain aspects of freedom, the technology has also provided ways in which to
better know ourselves, by creating alternative spaces (cyberspaces) in which
virtually anything is permissible, thus liberating unspoken desires that
continue to refine its development.
Welcome
to 21st Century voyeurism!
Addendum:
I had something of an epiphany the
other day, which I'm sure was the result of a number of incidents that I'd
heard about on the news (subliminally anyway). For instance, a young woman has
just been jailed for eight years for her complicity in a stunt that has become
quite popular recently, called "Happy Slapping" – where an unwitting
target is photographed with a cellular phone while being slapped around the
head. Though, in this case, the "Happy Slapping" session resulted in
someone's death. Each day that passes, we hear of new faddish scams and acts of
violence that revolve around cellular technology – from "Happy
Slapping" to downright mugging and even murder.
Now, it seems to me that this
very same technology can be put to use to fight back against these new trends.
A cellular phone is merely one cell of a vast network of interactive cells
bound together by common servers and providers, which also store messages,
photos, etc., remotely. It occurred to me that since most cellular phones now
have the facility to take photographs, people are in a better position to
police themselves. Actually, this thought popped into my mind while remembering
a strangely garbled telephone call from a friend’s telephone number last year,
which turned out to be the live sounds of a young thief doing a runner after
stealing his cellular phone. Just imagine if it had also been taking photos and
transmitting them to me simultaneously. In actuality, I probably would have
seen little more than a jumble of snapshots of the street, a pair of legs
running...
...But, I'm sure that you get the
point…
The very obvious and simple idea
that occurred to me crystallized while I was doing some surfing in an internet
cafe recently. I wanted to find out how to get a G-Mail account. My principal
motivation had to do with the prospect of being able to upload large chunks of
data from my pc and save them on the internet. However, the official site
informed me that I could not sign up directly by internet unless I had already
received an invitation via a 'cellular phone' first. I was initially amused by
this (as I don’t use a cellular), but then certain implications hit me...
If one thinks about it – in our
contemporary Orwellian world of mass surveillance where we are used to the
ever-present possibility of being photographed by hidden cameras, in the
streets, underground systems, virtually anywhere – we are more aware of how we
behave. The ubiquitous presence of this Big Brother's eye makes us more
self-conscious and careful. The idea that we may commit some sort of
transgression that could be caught on film or some other graphic medium and
used against us is an ever-present risk. Well, how about using this very same
mechanism to protect ourselves?
Here's a simple scenario: a young
man is walking to his car in a parking lot and suddenly finds himself
confronted by a couple of muggers who insist on taking his cellular phone. Not
wanting any trouble, he begins to hand it over to the thieves. All of a sudden
there is a click and a flash. Everyone in the scene understands what has just
happened. The cellular phone took a picture. This places the potential thieves
in a bit of an awkward predicament to say the very least. They can't simply
proceed with the transaction by taking the phone / camera and deleting the
picture that would incriminate them because the moment that the click was heard
and they were dazzled by the flash the image was instantaneously uploaded to
the intended victim's G-Mail account. It would be pointless to take the phone to
destroy the evidence because the incriminating data was now stored elsewhere on
a system that was inaccessible to them. This nullifies any use that the phone
would have had for them originally, because it has actually documented their
crime (pictorially, including date, time and, perhaps, even location). All that
they would be able to do would be to drop everything, bluff it out and shout
something inane like "April Fool!" while running away.
Or again, imagine a young woman
walking home late at night and she senses that she is being followed. A few
clicks and flashes suddenly brightening up the night would make a potential
attacker think twice. If the same woman was directly confronted by an
assailant, a click and a flash would be a strong deterrent against the
situation further deteriorating. As before, it would not do to simply steal or
destroy the camera because the evidence of the encounter has already been
transmitted elsewhere. The potential rapist would know that his intended crime
was marked before it had even taken place, thus giving him the choice to back
down and to change his destiny.
"You can steal from me if
you like, rape me, or even kill me but remember that you're on candid
camera!"
Now, one may object, "Hmm,
yes all well and good, but what if the assailant is wearing a mask? What if the
attacker strikes from behind?, etc.,
It doesn’t really matter whether
the technology is foolproof or not!
What was really scary about
Orwell's vision of Big Brother being the all-seeing-eye is that the citizens
that crowded his dystopic vision of 1984 knew that they couldn't
possibly be watched 'ALL' the time, but this didn't make them less vigilant
about their visible behaviour. It was even possible that any given individual
was only observed for a very brief duration once a day, once a week, or even
not at all, but there was no way for the individual to 'know' for sure. Big
Brother is, most importantly, the 'UNSEEN' all-seeing-eye. The mere 'threat' of
being observed and that one cannot 'know' for sure when this is occurring are
enough!
Like Spielberg's "Minority
Report" and the idea of pre-crime, the evidence of the crime lies in the
future – let's say when the authorities are permitted to access the G-Mail of a
missing person as part of a standard procedure after receiving a
missing-person's report. Of course, in Minority Report, the future is given
presciently as the present counts down toward it. The question is whether the
future that has been glimpsed is irrevocable or not. The meaning of ‘minority report’
has to do with the possibility of an alternative future coming to pass and that
there is always the possibility of 'choice.'
The specific import of the
evidence that sits in the G-Mail account (picture, date, time and location) can
only be nullified by choosing 'not' to carry out one's intended crime. By law,
one may extrapolate an intention / motive from a crime that has actually taken
place, but not the other way round. This is actually a more just scenario for
all parties concerned – as opposed to a cruel metaphysics of fate.
"O.K. officer, so I changed
my mind!"
"Yes," said the
prosecutor, "but was that before or after you heard the click and saw the
flash?"
"Objection, your
honour!" cried the defence attorney "It would do well to remind the jury
of the fundamentals of quantum mechanics and to explain the honourable
prosecutor's misappropriation of the logic of Shroedinger’s Cat!”
A few new laws would have to be
written to take this kind of scenario into account. But, one thing is for sure:
the number of violent crimes would most definitely drop...for a while. And,
that would be a good thing.
Naturally, it would also be a
GOOD thing if there were some way of making money out of this very obvious, but
so far unused, application of popular technology. Instead of being used as a
tool in the perpetration of crime – e.g., "Happy Slapping" – it could
be used as tool of prevention. Let's face it, we're stuck with this age of
panoptical surveillance anyway so we may as well try to think of ways to turn
it to the individual's advantage!
Requirements:
1. Cellular
phone with camera. The existing hardware is sufficient and does 'not' involve
expensive modification.
2. A Provider
that offers at least 1GB of space for uploaded data. Consider G-Mail's campaign
to offer accounts to cellular phone users...
3. Either
independent software writers or phone manufacturers or the big providers (e.g.,
Orange, BT) would be able to produce the simple programme whereby every shot
that the camera takes is 'instantaneously' uploaded rather than simply stored
in the cellular's memory. 'Instantaneity' here, is, I realize a problematic
expression as it is relative to data size and upload speed.... but the relevant
technology is advancing in leaps and bounds.
Note: It may be suggested that the cellular phone manufacturers
hardwire the facility into their phones or provide a modular upgrade that is
specifically designed as a security option. This could take the form of a
security switch that may be activated at any time by the user, which
effectively puts the cellular phone in ready-mode for fast transmission of
data. Then, when the standard photographic button is pressed while in this ready-mode,
it completes its task with an automatic upload to the Provider. The function
of the module, when activated, would be to effectively modify the command
string of the photo button to take pictures that are instantly uploaded to a
remote server and NOT saved in the unit itself (thus an assailant would not
be able to grab the phone and check whether the photos were potentially
incriminating or not). In other words, the Self-Policing Security Mode would be
a separate function to the standard photographic element of the phone that
stores its pictures in its resident memory.
So, here's the pitch: Imagine
police officers or soldiers or the general public having their cellular phones
(or a bluetooth accessory) attached to their lapels. The major Providers could
sell data space for the instantaneous uploads (for which it is the
responsibility of the user to monitor and download their files – just like a
Yahoo account). The increasingly complex issue of information privacy in our
new cyber-spatial age would have to be addressed, but the system would work. No
doubt, the military would be interested in the technology as a way of snooping
on the enemy while simultaneously monitoring the safety of its operatives. It
would certainly be extremely useful to the police. If a criminal made a run for
it when an arresting officer tried to apprehend him, the frustrated cop
wouldn't have to embark on a wild street chase. A simple "I'll catch up
with you later asshole when I've checked my database!" would do. But, of
course, it’s the popularity that such a facility would represent to individual
and public paranoia on a large scale that would be the real money-spinner!
…Just a
thought!
Of course, it's the natural outcome of this, if
implemented and monitored appropriately, that will produce the most profitable
enterprise of all…
…Tune
in next time folks…
* * *
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