Tag Archives: cell phones

WTF?: “Smartphones are Emasculating”

Debbie says:

I’m not an early adopter and I didn’t know that Google Glass was coming out. I don’t even have a smart phone. I am, however, a lifelong science fiction reader and I think that having an earpiece that hooks to your glasses and gives you the internet is essentially–at least theoretically-super-cool. I want to try one!

What makes this a Body Impolitic topic is Sergey Brin’s stated reasons to use Google Glass. Brin, co-founder of Google, could  could be giving Google’s response (stock or thoughtful) to the extremely serious privacy concerns raised by the new device. Instead, he chooses to play on the insecurities of his expected purchasers,  saying that that “Smartphones are ’emasculating.’ You’re standing around and just rubbing this featureless piece of glass.”

To start with the obvious, standing (or lying) around and rubbing something to make it respond is basic masculine behavior (okay, okay, I do it too; it’s still culturally associated with men).

Remember when cell phones (now “dumb phones”) were new? A common joke was that they were the first thing that ever caused men to brag “mine’s smaller than yours!” So cell phones have been a test of masculinity from the beginning. In fact, new tech is a test of masculinity. How new is yours? How small is it? How much better than the next guy’s is it, and can you see from across the room that yours is smaller/faster/newer/shinier than his? Of course, “how much disposable income do you have?” has been a test of masculinity since the early days of capitalism, and maybe earlier, but this goes further than that. Boys (some boys) do, in fact, judge each other by their toys, and most boys are constantly aware that they are being judged.

At the move from cell phones to smart phones, the questions change, but the litmus tests remain the same. Now it’s “what generation is your phone?” and “do you have the coolest apps?” “How quickly and deftly do you use it?” When smart phones were new, no one was talking about them as “featureless”; the features were the point.

But now Brin is hawking something that he hopes will supplant smart phones, so he has to define the new test early. What, you’re still rubbing your smart phone when you could be fiddling with your eyeglasses? What is the matter with you? Why are you such a failure? Why are you such a wuss?

Mark Hurst, before he gets to the point about privacy (link above), points out why Brin is taking the offensive about making the device cool:

The immediate, most visible problem in the Glass experience is how dorky the user looks while wearing it. No one wants to be the only person in the bar dressed like a cyborg from a 1992 virtual-reality movie. It’s embarrassing. Early adopters will abandon Google Glass if they don’t sense the social approval they seek while wearing it.

In just a few words, Brin establishes that he doesn’t expect any women to buy Google Glass any time soon. New toys aren’t for girls, after all. We can still sit around rubbing those featureless pieces of glass (or something more responsive), while the real men prove themselves. Then they’ll release one in pink and expect us to join the party. The reason he can make this statement so efficiently is the years of groundwork he and his cohort have laid, defining geeks as a male-only club, men as the sum total of early adopters, and women as uninterested in anything that doesn’t come in pink (or frills). These underlying assumptions go deep enough that Brin can get away with this kind of sexist bullshit in a TED talk, in a responsible venue; he doesn’t have to save it for a press conference or a boys’ night out.

Even more sinister, by setting up this masculinity test, Brin is diverting the conversation away from the deeply troubling issues with Google Glass. Basically, Hurst argues that Google Glass (or its inevitable followers and competitors’ improvements) could result in tagged, stored, indexed video, audio, and text conversion of everything that happens within eyesight and earshot of everyone wearing Google Glass.

Welcome to the future. Maybe it’s inevitable. But we could be talking about it, and thinking about how we want to handle it, if the co-founder of the company wasn’t diverting us with the terrifying threat to masculinity that is the smart phone.

R.I.P. Hope Witsell: Adult Power and Teen Suicide

Laurie and Debbie say:

We weren’t familiar with the blog Sylvia Has a Problem, but judging by this one brilliant post on a tough subject, we need to be.

This is the appalling story of Hope Witsell, a 13-year-old girl who committed suicide after a cascade of events which started when she sent a boy a picture of her naked breasts via cell phone.

As Sylvia points out, the MSNBC news story consistently poses Hope as the villain in her own story.

In the lede we discover that it was the showing of her boobs to a boy that — let’s look at that one more time in full — “robbed Hope of her childhood, and eventually, her life.”

Does she get the blame just once? No, no, let’s go down a few more paragraphs.

She got INVOLVED in a DANGEROUS GAME. She gave a boy a picture of her boobs, you see. And that was the dangerous act.

Read all of Sylvia’s post, in which she carefully outlines the role of bullying students (acknowledged in the headline, but not in the story proper), the role of school administrators, the role of parents, the role of all the adults in her life.

And of course it wasn’t a slut-shaming, woman-hating, sex-hating culture that divides young women into “good” (virginal) and “bad” (fallen) and allowed a 13-year-old girl to believe that she had ruined her life forever by showing a boy her tits.

From where we are now, it’s almost impossible to imagine how the initial experience with the cell-phone picture could be different, how she could have avoided the sense that her body was currency, something she had that would attract the attention of a boy she liked. Boys send pictures of their penises around the internet all the time, and while they may be criticized or disciplined, they aren’t shamed and bullied, because penises are just private, personal body parts, but boys control their own bodies, and society owns women’s bodies, so the society–not the individual–gets to decide where and how they get seen, and who sees them.

No, it was her “impetuous move” and somehow also the dangers of the INTERNET (even though the internet was not involved, except in that her internet access, probably one of her major sources of social support, was taken away by her “churchgoing family” as a punishment for an act that they had no goddamn fucking idea what it even was or what technology it used).

Every time you turn on the TV or surf to a news site, you get a story about the dangers of social networking, the viciousness of teens to one another (which can certainly be true), the ways in which our children are destroying themselves and each other.

You almost never see something like this, which points out that adults hold far more power over teen lives than the teenager’s peer group does. Parents have very direct power over what a teenager can hear, see, interact with, learn from. Teachers and school staff have the power to close their eyes to bullying, to strengthen and back up some student values over others, to decide what can go on and what must be stopped. And the system of laws says how old you can be before you have sex, what chemicals you can put into your body legally, how long it will be that these other people have power over you. And far too often, adults will engage in adultism: using that power in ways that are profoundly damaging to teenagers.

It was you, adults, all the adults in her life. The high school assholes too, but they’re in high school. You’re adults. She was thirteen years old and she was driven to her grave for nothing and there was nothing inevitable about this.

She’s never coming back. … She wasn’t killed by this year’s sexy scary cyber-youth-trend. You could have saved her if you hadn’t ALL been so busy reinforcing values that are killing our daughters.

Again, Sylvia says the thing that never gets said: she didn’t kill herself in a vacuum. She didn’t kill herself by putting a picture of her chest on her cell phone and sending it to one person. She killed herself in a societal context that told her exactly what she wasn’t worth, and exactly how few choices she had.

It does not have to be this way.

Stop killing our daughters. Stop killing our daughters. Stop killing our daughters. Stop killing our daughters. Stop killing our daughters.