Wednesday, September 2, 2009

More Utopia

The Digitial Humanities Manifesto 2.0 calls for an effective implementation of New Media in the pursuit of knowledge in general, and academic institutions specifically. Towards this end, the manifesto claims "a utopian core," and one that is "shaped by its genealogical descent from the counterculture-cyberculture intertwinglings of the 60s and 70s." The trope of utopia clearly runs through the Manifesto--from the call to open sourcing and the relaxation of copyright laws to the desegregation and consolidation of distinct academic disciplines. Even the hyperbolic language of the piece evokes polarising visions of paradisiacal idealisms and postapocalyptical pessimisms.

In their essay, "Rewiring the History and Social Studies Classroom," Randy Bass and Roy Rosenzweig criticise such kinds of "excessive rhetoric" that sensationalises New Media as "apocalyptic transformation," and instead calls for a more sober look. And so I thought I'd go into semi lit critic mode to test the Manifesto against a text/s in our cultural consciousness. Does its conceit warrant concern in New Media directing us towards impending paradise/doom? Or is New Media having a so-called "utopian core" an unnecessary, exaggerated claim?

For this purpose, I use Thomas More's Utopia. Although the concept has earlier roots in Plato's ideal political state in Republic and the biblical Paradise, More's fictionalised treatise is the realised originary point of and is what popularised the term. On the curiosity of learning, More's Utopia has a knack for appropriating foreign sciences and cultures. They “tried to make paper and to print with type. Though at first they did not get it quite right, by frequent attempts they soon mastered both techniques, and they became so proficient that if they had copies of Greek texts, there could have been no lack of printed editions […] for they are eager to learn what is happening everywhere in the world.” This enthusiastic, even unrestrained, pursuit of knowledge is uncannily echoed by the Manifesto. Sure enough, many of us are now in the habit of Googling something we don't know about because the availability and instantaneity facilitates that utopian quality.

A less certain, more ambiguous side of the discourse surrounds the topic of private property, on which More advocates: “the one and only path to the welfare of the public is the equal allocation of goods; and I doubt whether such equality can be maintained where every individual has his own property.” He and a correspondent basically argue the values of socialism and capitalism, predating the actual terms themselves. Although they are referring specifically to tangible wealth and property, their attitudes regarding intellectual property would not be far off--and this is where the Manifesto's call for open source comes in. In an ideal society, copyright laws should be relaxed for optimal cultural production.

Perhaps the most relevant parallel is in More's philosophical and political conception of Utopia. Towards the end, he makes the great reveal (and confession) that there is in fact no actual island nation state called Utopia in some far-off sea. Those who are so inclined, he suggests, should use the abstract Utopia to either realise such an ideal society, or at least comparatively use it to right the wrongs in one's own. In this regard then, utopia cannot be achieved through literal, physical means, such as a gated community, a resort getaway island, or an isolated nation state. Rather, utopia will always be an ideological abstraction that serves as an imposition on an existing society--e.g. the Manifesto's utopia on our academic community and culture.

Three for three, the Digital Humanities Manifesto 2.0 that Bass and Rosenzweig would regard as unncessarily hyperbolic actually holds up well against the concept of utopia in More's original piece. There's nothing wrong with claiming that New Media has a "utopian core," if we consider its traditional definition. The problem is that "utopia" in its pop-cultural definition has gotten a bad rap--now less culturally and politically idealistic, and instead more speculative in the realm of fantasy/science-fiction. So I wouldn't necessarily outright reject Bass and Rosenzweig's critique that we ignore the polarising utopia/dystopia tropes that are in the discourse of New Media. I would simply make the qualification that doing so productively is fine. What isn't productive are the unrealistic Garden-of-Eden expectations or, at the other end of the spectrum, taking too seriously the entertaining-but-fearmongering rhetoric of tech-gone-awry texts such as The Matrix or The Terminator.

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