Saturday, August 25, 2012

#2.


Foucault, Michel. "Panopticism." Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Trans. Alan Sheridan, 1977. New York: Vintage Books, 1995. 195-228.

Foucault, Michel. "The Eye of Power." Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings. Ed. Colin Gordon. New York: Pantheon Books, 1980. 146-165.

Ohmann, Richard. "Literacy, Technology, and Monopoly Capital." College English. 47.7 (1985): 675-89.


After forcing myself to stop referring to Jeremy Bantham’s Panopticon as Panopticon Prime (which was difficult, and I still find myself relapsing), I was actually pretty fascinated by “The Eye of Power” and “Panopticism”. Admittedly, this was my first experience with both of these works. The following are arguments that I thought were central to both pieces (and particularly interesting!):

  1. Supervision should be anonymous and seemingly constant. Foucault first establishes that there is a vulnerability in being seen, that “visibility is a trap,” and argues that the “major effect of the Panopticon [is] to induce in the inmate a state of consciousness and permanent visibility that assures the automatic functioning of power” (“Panopticism” 200-201). In this way, Foucault agrees with Bantham in that “power should be visible and unverifiable,” that citizens within the Panopticon know they are being watched, but they should not know precisely when the surveillance occurs, if it ever stops, or who is watching them (“Panopticism” 201). However, as Foucault mentions in his conversation with Jean-Pierre Barou and Michelle Perrot in “The Eye of Power”, “Bentham himself has no clear idea to whom power is to be entrusted” (“The Eye of Power” 157). Thus, I feel a central part of this argument is answering the question of whom to place within the central tower of the Panopticon. He contends that “it does not matter who exercises power,” that “any individual, taken almost at random” will do; in fact, “the more numerous those anonymous and temporary observers are, the greater the risk for the inmate of being surprised and the greater his anxious awareness of being observed” (“Panopticism” 202). Foucault furthers this argument of “permanent, exhaustive, omnipresent surveillance, capable of making all visible, as long as it could itself remain invisible” through the notion of the “faceless gaze,” which “transform[s] the whole social body into a field of perception: thousands of eyes posted everywhere, mobile attentions on the alert” (“Panopticism” 214).

  1. Foucault refuses to let his readers romanticize the Panopticon. He asserts, “the Panopticon must not be understood as a dream building,” as it is “the diagram of a mechanism of power reduced to its ideal form …[and] must be represented as a pure architectural and optical system” (“Panopticism” 205). He juxtaposes the Panopticon with the idea of a Utopia, “perfectly closed in upon themselves”; however, he then dismisses these Utopias, as they are “common enough,” and effectively separates the Panopticon through defining it as “a cruel, ingenious cage” (“Panopticism” 205).

  1. The Panopticon is all or nothing. As both Bentham and Foucault establish, the Panopticon can be “applicable to all establishments” (“Panopticism” 205). If it is implemented in a temporary situation, such as a school, the students must know that the faceless gaze has the ability to follow them home. Foucault writes, “Thus the Christian school must not simply train docile children; it must also make it possible to supervise the parents, to gain information as to their way of life, their resources, their piety, their morals” (“Panopticism” 211).

I feel that, at its most simple, the Panopticon is about eradicating the possibility of poor decisions due to constant (or the perception of constant) supervision. Again, at its most basic, the Panopticon system can work well for teaching. For instance, while teaching in a computer lab, informing your students that you’ll be monitoring their computer screens and that there will be some kind of penalty if they’re caught off task is a great idea. (If you’re working in the AML, I’m pretty sure you can ask a consultant to help you with this—and even if you can’t get this technology, I personally have no qualms about saying I have access to it anyway). Sitting in the back row of the classroom and asking your students to sit in front of you (so you can see all of their computer screens) also works, though I think it’s a lesser choice (especially because I need to wear glasses to view things that are not close to me). The idea of a faceless gaze while teaching is seemingly impossible, and the idea of surveillance outside of the classroom is equally unrealistic. The Panopticon did not deal with FERPA.

So, seventeen years have passed since Ohmann’s article, “Literacy, Technology, and Monopoly Capital,” was published. Even so, I feel that his concern regarding “the computer and its software… carrying forward the deskilling and control of labor…that has been a main project of monopoly capital” is still quite relevant (Ohmann 683). For me, juxtaposing the proposed democracy of the Panopticon structure, where everyone is individually susceptible to the same surveillance, with Ohmann’s representation of the upper class mentality of “how can we keep the lower orders docile?” regarding education and literacy instilled in me a greater sense of concern regarding the perks and dangers of technology. His examples of replacing keyboards with letters with keyboards with photos for jobs in the food service industry were apt and eye opening. While discussing differences in social class, Ohmann quotes James P. Munroe arguing to abolish free high schools to offset the costs of educating the two and three year old “children of the masses” about cleanliness and punctuality (676). While the state of Idaho isn’t abolishing public high schools, they are offering a chance to try the technology of online classes in an attempt to switch to a purely online school. They are offering an optional K-12 curriculum, entirely online (though they do offer extra curricular activities and “in-person meet-ups”). This is potentially terrifying. It is optional now, but what about in a few/several years? Online classes take a lot of student initiative, and the “children of the masses” Munroe references probably will not get the necessary motivation (or surveillance) from their two working parents. I also agree with Ohmann when he mentions the deskilling of laborers due to technology. A prime example of this is text speak. So many people communicate via text and use abbreviations like “r” and “u” and “2” and “4”; while this is socially acceptable writing (even though I hate it) from phone to phone, occasionally, it bleeds into work related emails, essays, and handwritten documents, which are all detrimental to a professional ethos. 

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

#1.


To be entirely honest, I hadn’t spent very much time thinking about what I call non-alphabetic texts until I explored Lauer’s article, "What's in a Name? The Anatomy of Defining New/Multi/Modal/Digital/Media Texts". Several of her interviewees expressed a dichotomy in speech that I agree with—we express ourselves in an entirely different way around people who do not do what we do or do not do it in the extent that we do. I think this quality of being audience oriented is what affects me most when determining what I call non-alphabetic texts. 

In the past, as I admitted earlier, I didn’t realize that I should be thinking about defining these texts, and simply used the terminology given to me. For instance, within Lisa Ede’s The Academic Writer (also known as the common, required, English 101 textbook), there are multiple For Exploration projects at the end of every chapter. One of these is a non-alphabetic text made from a series of questions regarding student assumptions and experiences as writers. The way I’ve previously expressed the different venues my students could take with this project echoes some of what Cynthia Selfe expressed within her interview—she explained that she doesn’t use shorthand or buzzwords to explain these texts, what she says is “I’m having students do videos, I’m having students do audio essays, I’m having students do written compositions” (quoted in “What’s in a Name? The Anatomy of Defining New/Multi/Modal/Digital/Media Texts”).  In this way, while I’ve mentioned that they can make a mix-cd, a painting, a scrapbook, a collage, a comic, a video, an interpretive dance, a rap, a drawing, anything creative, I’ve never used the term multimodal. However, I have always requested that they provide a written explication of their creative choices, which supports Wysocki’s use of new media, which “encourages us to stay alert to how and why we make these combinations of materials, not simply that we do it (19). 

I violently agree with her argument that new media has the ability to “imagine and build other possibilities for our selves as men and women who do not think and feel with such disconnection,” by upturning inherited traditions of “serious” versus “remedial” and renaming them. I feel that rearticulating these choices and incorporating new media will encourage students from all backgrounds, inclinations, and abilities to feel more comfortable and successful regarding the writing process.