Is the Rise of Social Media Really a Reprise?

Last week I began reading Is the Internet Changing the Way We Think?, a collection of essays by various thinkers, assembled and edited by John Brockman. The subtitle is The Net's Impact on Our Minds and Future. The list of contributors is impressive and the topics explored quite vast.

This blog post was stimulated by June Cohen, director of media, TED Conference, TED Talks. As you might expect, Cohen introduces an idea I had never considered but which so thoroughly resonated with my own observations that it's a wonder I'd never considered it this way before.

When I read the text of June Cohen's TED Talk, it not only struck me as original but also seemed profoundly astute. The title above was taken from the title of her TED Talk: The Rise of Social Media Is Really a Reprise.

In the early days of the Web, when I worked at HotWired, I thought mainly about the new. We were of the future, those of us in that San Francisco loft-champions of new media, new tools, new thinking. But lately I've been thinking more about the old--about those aspects of human character and cognition that remain unchanged by time and technology. Over the past two decades, I've watched as the Internet changed the way we think and changed the way we live. But it hasn't changed us fundamentally. In fact, it may be returning us to the intensely social animals we evolved to be. (EdNote: emphases mine)

Every day, hundreds of millions of people use the Internet to blog, tweet, IM, and Facebook, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And it is. The tools are new, but the behaviors come naturally. Because the rise of social media is a reprise, a return to the natural order.

When you take the long view-when you look at the Internet on an evolutionary timeline-everything we consider "old media" is actually very new. Books and newspapers became common only in the last two hundred years, radio and film in the last hundred, TV in the last fifty. If all of human history were compressed into a single twenty-four-hour day, media as we now know them emerged in the last two minutes before midnight.

Before that, for the vast majority of human history, all media were social media. Media were what happened between people. Whether you think of the proverbial campfire, around which group rituals were performed and mythologies passed on, or of simple everyday interactions (teaching, gossiping, making music, making each other laugh), media were participatory. 

The point, she concludes, is that what we’re witnessing now isn’t a fresh phenomenon. It’s not a groundbreaking surge in human potential, nor the collapse of thoughtful discussion, but instead a return to a more typical historical state. For a short time in the twentieth century, "media" was seen as content crafted by professionals for passive consumption by the masses. Together, we’ve been moving away from that concept.  

Is this part of the reason I've generally found television so off-putting since my junior year in high school?

Humans are innate storytellers, she says, and media have long served as the connective tissue binding our communities. However, in the twentieth century, mass media became so overwhelmingly one-sided that they crowded out other forms of engagement. The allure of television was so captivating, immersive, and isolating that it eroded older, interactive traditions like storytelling, music creation, and even family meals. While TV built a global audience, it dismantled the sense of village life in the process.

  

Then came the Internet. As soon as this technology emerged, we instinctively started rebuilding the types of content and communities we’re naturally drawn to. Content creation no longer required a multi-million dollar studio. YouTube video was a snap to produce and upload for sharing. 

Our ancestors thrived in tight-knit tribes, staying close to friends and keeping their children even closer. They rapidly shared critical, sometimes life-saving information and gathered around fires for rituals and storytelling that strengthened their bonds. Today, we see these same instincts at play. The first thing many of us do with new communication tools is reconnect with our tribe—sending photo emails to our parents or watching our grandchildren via private photo and video catalogs as they grow from infants to maturity.

The upside to social media is that it's accessible and (mostly) easy as pie. 

* * * Cue the ominous background transition music * * *

While I was preparing my thoughts for this blog post a few days ago I noticed the following post from a Facebook friend reminding me that not all is hunky dory in social media paradise, especially in those places where it intersects with the real world we physically live in. I asked for permission to share her experience and observations.

I went to a Tate Lecture at McFarlin at SMU featuring journalist Soledad O'Brien. I really like her and watched her on NBC and CNN many years ago. Anyhow, I was sitting in the 3rd balcony because I bought a General Admission ticket. It was terrible up there. I had a nice seat picked out and a few seconds before it started, a lady with a high hairdo sat in front of me so I moved. But I didn't know the lady down from her and now to the side of me on the lower row was going to be playing a game on her phone the whole night. Well, I shut her down by asking her to dim her phone or turn it off thank you. She did. Then a man in front of her had his going but he was reading about Soledad and turned it off pretty quickly. Then another lady kept checking her phone the whole lecture, but at least she had dimmed hers and was just quickly checking. Then when the lecture was over but the question and answer session was beginning, many people got up and left. I guess that's ok but I think it is in poor taste. During the questions (the lights were up), that first lady had dimmed her phone but was scrolling FB. LOL. I enjoyed the lecture but will pay for a decent ticket on the floor next time. My take is that people are addicted to their phones and are rude. But we all knew that. I just am surprised time and time again for some reason. --Denise Costello*

*Denise Costello is a connoisseur of the arts and literature, and an authority in all things Hemingway  

Chester Chat On Art Was Both Fun and Informative

Last Thursday I attended my first Chester Chat at Glensheen Mansion, the 7.6 acre estate built by Chester A. Congdon just over one hundred years ago on the shore of Lake Superior and donated to the University of Minnesota-Duluth in 1968. I heard mention of it on KUMD radio and was intrigued to learn that something like the internationally recognized TED Talks was taking place here in a UMD-sponsored event.

The idea behind TED Talks is "Riveting talks by remarkable people, free to the world." The Chester Chats program has been patterned after this format of bringing some of our locally remarkable people to briefly share insights on various themes. And last week's theme was about art.

Despite excessively cold temps, the three speakers filled the room with a public eager to hear lively presentations about regional art. Dan Hartman, interim director of Glensheen, served as moderator. Our featured speakers were Sarah Brokke-Erickson, MFA who teaches at St. Scholastica, Anne Dugan, curator and interim director of the Duluth Art Institute, and Dr. Jennifer Webb, who teaches art history at UMD.

What follows are a few brief notes from what each brought to share.

Sarah Brokke-Erickson

Sarah Brokke's talk was titled "An Artist's Perspective" and her opening line set the tone. "You can hardly throw a rock here (in Duluth0 without hitting an artist."

Brokke, who hails from Grand Forks and came here to attend college at UMD, has had the privilege of studying abroad in places such as England, France, and Florence, Italy. She considers herself a post-post-modernist.

She asked, "What makes someone an artist?" And she began with the earliest form of art that is with us today. "What compelled people to make cave paintings?" It is clearly a human thing to create, she noted. Art is a human expression. Therefore everyone has potential to be an artist.

She stated that to define what is art puts limits on what is possible. She closed by encouraging us to take time each day to perceive and reflect on the world around us.

Anne Dugan's talk about regional art began with her sharing a pet peeve of hers. Duluth has a thriving art scene, but too often she hears people dismiss it by unfavorably comparing ourselves to other places, The reality is, we're not New York. We're not Austin. We're Duluth!

Recent painting by Scott Murphy

After initially introducing us to two Russian artists Dugan gave short presentations on three local artists who exemplify qualities of our region. First of these is Scott Murphy, whose mural at the library is a wonderful example of public art. His recent show at the DAI is rooted in a Northern Minnesota blue collar tradition. Next, she gave us Katharine Meier, who moved to Duluth from a small town in Nebraska. Her work goes beyond depiction and returns to open spaces. The influence of Native culture permeates our local art scene as well, and Dugan highlighted this by sharing Annette Lee and Ojibwe X-Ray paintings of William Wilson. The slides fail to do justice to these works which need to be seen in person to be fully appreciated.

Dr. Jennifer Webb talked about Glensheen's connection to art. Chester Congdon created an arts board when he was young that eventually became the Duluth Art Institute. He was a founder of the Society of Encouragement of Art in Duluth, an unwieldy name but noble in purpose. The group bought a major painting for the new Carnegie Library downtown and put together a show in 1898 featuring the art of our region and artist David Ericson.

Their aim was to create a legacy around the twin themes "All of us are artists; all of us are collectors." Their aim of supporting artist and making a community impact is with us to this day.