As I examined the provided data set in preparation for this week’s class, I found myself haunted by Walker Rettberg (2020)’s “phantasmagram” and the impossible dream of perfect communication that it both projects and yearns for. In this, the “tension between context and category” is central, as the grid of the spreadsheet acts as a filter, sifting out the subject’s humanity and leaving behind “only an impression of life as lived” (Tuesday’s Lecture). Like Jose van Dijck described with his theory of “dataism”, it is easy to conflate aggregation with rational truth or objectivity when first exposed to large collections of data (Walker Rettberg, p 44). However, as Professor Himpele explained, once you begin to interrogate the margins, its shortcomings become apparent and one is able to see “where the slippage from the street to spreadsheet” is occurring (Tuesday’s Lecture). Despite the investigative capabilities of contextual analysis, most people are inundated with information, besieged by content and numbers, and thus either don’t have the time to question the supremacy of data or simply don’t share our “ethnographic inclination to dig deeper”. Consequently, numbers and data have come to serve as Durkheimian social facts, indisputable metrics that describe, define and confine our interactions with our larger cultural context. This phenomenon in itself is fascinating, as pervasive datafication was originally resisted by the public, especially with industries like insurance which was perceived as “betting against God”. Today, however, datafication is so enmeshed in our society that challenges to this conceptual framework are often met with controversy, anger, and vituperation, further underscoring its embeddedness. For example, this August, before I was able to extensively wrestle with these issues in our class, a TikTok went viral where a teenage girl elucidated the socially constructed nature of algebra, data, and numbers by essentially asking one simple, valid question: how do we know math is real? Needless to say, the video received harsh, almost evil, criticism and scrutiny to the point where she even contemplated taking her own life. I’ve included an example of some of these horrible replies below, but it represents only a tiny fraction of the innumerable comments where her appearance, intelligence and integrity were all ruthlessly attacked by thousands of people simply for asking about algebra’s origin. Although many members of the academic community came to her defense, the ultimate result was the social reinforcement of datafication, as individuals were alerted to the potential consequences of divergent thought, making this a powerful example, an indexical demonstration if you will, of the Foucauldian process of discipline and punishment that produces a docile acceptance of Jose van Dijck’s dataism in the general public. This, in turn, begs the question: how do we begin to dismantle dataism given its social integration? Is it even possible at this point? What would be some of the potential repercussions if we were successful? I’m looking forward to exploring these nuances with you all in class next week! Have a great weekend!

 

  1. Jeffrey Himpele says:

    Very thoughtful post, Zack. I’m wondering how much of Dataism can be traced back to the circumstances that Mitchell described in which one inherently takes up a colonialist claim of omniscience by “stepping backward” and producing a phantasmagram of everything from the outside.

    And thanks for including that incredible TikTok! Have numbers or mathematics achieved the status of a fetish or a perceived magical reality (e.g. religion) that they were once employed to oppose?