Designed Conflict Territories

I've been mulling over a couple of ideas over the past few months and have spent a lot of time talking at and to people about them. In fact in some ways, my activity over the summer has been insidiously geared towards having discussions about these ideas with different types of people to try and frame them. This, then, is a sort of progress report that starts frayed and ties up towards the end. Partly to write these things down for my own benefit and also to invite response.

Framing
For the last few months I've been calling myself a critical designer and futurist. Before this I generally framed myself as an artist and designer, this was always something of a cop-out to me and I was aware that over time I'd have to narrow it down. Both critical designer and futurist will attract derision of some sort or another but it's important to have a grounded point from which I can defend it. 'Artist' was dropped after reading some of Dr Matt Malpass' papers on framing critical design in the design world.






Participants and faculty of the UrbanIXD summer school were invited to position their practice. I suggested that 'critic' was a vital role that was missed (left).  

How do you measure success?
The question of working out whether the critical design approach is actually having impact is something that seems to be becoming more and more common. I've certainly been called up on several times over the summer. We're now at a stage where critical design is in the mainstream media and discussed widely outside of academic and design circles. This may not be a quantifiable metric of success but certainly a strong marker that the aim of the practice to engage the 'public' - in the broadest possible sense - has succeeded.

There are wider questions about the measuring of 'success' and what this means; if a discipline targeted at critiquing and redefining the very criteria by which we measure 'success' should in turn, be measured by the same criteria. But the elephant-question-in-the-room isn't 'does it work?', it's 'So what if it does work?' Once we've issued the provocation and people have their critical questions toolkit - they get it - it's a very rare instance that anything happens with these provocations. How does this practice of provocation introduce change?

There's a widely held faith that there might be some sort of trickle-down mechanism at play where critical design filters down to other fields. My friend Carlos J. Gómez de Llarena put this faithful position forward perfectly when we were teaching at the UrbanIXD summer school this year (I paraphrase):
Critical design is like the Velvet Underground. It doesn't sell a lot of records but it'll inspire a whole generation of amazing bands.
Conflict Spaces
At Improving Reality I laid out some brief theories around protest territories. Historically, if you found that your own ideologies ran into conflict with another set of ideologies; that of the state, your community, your religion, then you ran away. Diaspora and exoduses were the ways in which ideological differences were physically enacted on the earth. War, of course, is the other major physical enactment of ideological conflict but really, until the post-industrial era very few wars were ideological in nature. Most wars were fought for the acquisition of part of the zero-sum Earth; resources or territory, people or security. Barring religious conflicts, themselves usually founded in lust for wealth, ideology played a minor role.

Then the modern world becomes an ideological conflict itself. Not just the Cold War and the various proxy wars but also the internalisation of conflicting ideologies. With the global hegemony that followed the collapse of the empires and technologically-accelerated territorial conquest by industry in attempt to stave off the terror of the zero-sum world there was nowhere for an exodus to go. Mass securitisation of internal conflict began after the growth of the labour movement and continued up into the kettling tactics of protest we have today.

What do I mean by internalisation? Once there was no longer somewhere else to go, or someone else to blame for whatever problems beset your state, ideological conflicts became no longer manifest in exodus and war but in revolution and protest. Naturally, states were terrified. A huge amount of resource was put into internal securitisation across the world to secure the status quo of power and prevent revolution. This power needed a way for the people to feel that they were exercising their right - to vent their frustration - without allowing them to fundamentally change anything. So the state constructed safe spaces for protest. A space with clearly defined limits of what is and what is not acceptable, a safe space that's structured and controlled.



Look at the indenti-kit protest march above. It would have been organised online, where someone would have been making advertising revenue and money from hosting material. It would have been planned at the guidance of police and civil authorities. Even the identical banners talk of a flatpack protest.

I don't want to undermine the power that popular protest has, or as I did accidentally at Improving Reality, to undermine the basis of the Occupy movement. They're important and highly visceral ways of exercising desire for change. My criticism is that they're fighting with the weapons of the last war.

Technology as Territory
The thing we have to consider is who and what we are protesting against. I won't regurgitate the stacktivism or infrastructure fictions ideas. Chances are, that if you're here, you know them already but there's a general idea that the very shape of global geopolitics has changed in the last 20 years or so and the people in charge are not who we thought they were. To re-word a great Dylan Moran gag: While we were talking, Google very, very gradually built a future around us. (Please replace Google with whatever or whoever you like to satisfy your own biases.) The point stands that the entities constructing and steering our futures, or what they often like to call the future - with all the baggage of powerlessness and inevitability that that wording brings - aren't states, and they work on a completely different geopolitical strata: There is no town square for Google.

When Edward Snowden leaked the details of the PRISM program to the world press, he wasn't revealing anything. We already knew, at some very fundamental level that a vast apparatus existed to observe and harvest us and our 'data'. Whether through decades of dystopic training or the simple maths of adding ruthless western capitalism and it's history of paranoia to enabling technology we knew that these things were happening. I wrote some time ago about the fact that the rebalance of power enacted by the PRISM revelations is different to what is easily read - they forced us to react. Snowden issued a call for action, and the world failed to respond. I now have a term for this retreating reaction - shocked acquiescence. When faced with something so large and unfathomable as PRISM or climate change, the most common reaction is to accept or pretend it's not happening and move on.

So why this response? 'There's no town square for Google' wasn't just a tweetable bite. We have no space in which we can protest, in which we can occupy and configure a conflict besides or in front of the thing we wish to protest and air our grievances against. For both the new geopolitics and the threat of climate change, there is no common language, no common space, no commons.



The Athens Wireless Metropolitan Network is something I bring up a lot as an example of 'technology as a territory.' If what we're lacking is a territory for protest, for conflict or for change, then the Athens network is at least a glimpse of how we might create one. It's a mesh network of around 2500 peer-to-peer nodes built as an alternative to the Internet in Greece. It was built partly in response to the poor quality of the connections in Athens, partly after government shutdowns at the height of the protests and is now quickly picking up users after the NSA revelations. What we have here is not the drive to move into alternate territory - to buy a different product, to boycott a service - but to actually build a new one based on entirely different foundational principles.




From Philip Ronnenberg's Post-Cyberwar series, the Social Teletext Network proposes an alternate form of Internet-like communication in a post-technology world.

To Shock out of Acquiescence (Designed Conflict Territories)
What we need is a territory and a language. Perhaps those can even be the same thing. Design already has a language and the reason that critical design works is it uses the same language of the things it's critiquing. The design language is a finely honed and perfected communication tool. And here we have seen examples of how technology can give us a territory. So I come to my question to which these ideas seem to lead to:

Can the next iteration of critical (or other forms of) design be used to create platforms or territories for ideological conflicts to occur?

To me this seems to be the 'then what' after the 'what if?' We don't want to be in a position where we become solutions peddlars, but it's important to move beyond provocation and into how this young but established toolkit can potentially be used to enact real change. The form that these platforms or territories might take is unknown to me as yet.

I also make assumptions in this question that are up for debate: I assume that state and legal frameworks are now incapable or not inclined to deliver change that people want. I assume that capitalism (the best-worst idea) has failed and that there is a general consensus that the current status quo is intolerable. I also assume that we as humans don't want to make other humans suffer and yet conflict is the most powerful agent of change - therefore it is desirable to maintain conflict without hurting people.

I'm also wary of just accelerating fear, whether over surveillance or climate change, or whatever crisis might face us. I believe that it's not enough to wait for x to happen then respond - that the reality of making decisions that will form futures requires the gravity and visceral nature of that crisis to be accelerated forward (or backward) into the present in order that it can be 'played' with or turned over by the various conflicted parties. However this might invite superfluous conflict just because they can happen in this 'safe space' that is the designed conflict territory.



Yosuke Ushigome's Commodotised Warfare proposes a series of vehicles used to host sporting or cultural spectacles as a way to focus ideological conflicts.

This is a good place to stop. There are other frayed edges to this thinking that need to be better formulated and discussed. There are things coming up in the next year which will give me some space to play with these ideas outside of my own head or conversations and I'll try and issue some updates as conversations and things evolve.

More Little Printer

 
You're not like other people.  We know that. Which is why we've singled you out as an elite creative.

Little Printer is being rolled out to a selected 'creative elite' as part of a sponsorship initiative between BERG and Vitamin Water. I still haven't changed my mind about the thing, I think it, and more importantly, the coverage of it are perfect symbols of all that's wrong with white, Hoxton-based technological supremacy. It's good that BERG are pushing it out though. The idea of the Internet of Things needs physically demonstrating and the network BERG are building does provide a great framework for further experimentation and growth in the right directions. But I think that they may be failing to realise that the 'creative elites' who are granted access to this thing will see it as nothing more than an aspirational and exclusive little gadget and that they're further securing that elitist image. Passing around Little Printers in exclusive packages to 'creative elites' is no different really to handing out couture dresses to celebrities, or giving political influence to party donors, or methodically stamping on everyone's face with a studded boot.

I find this doubly hypocritical because the last time I talked and wrote extensively about the thing I was embroiled in a discussion about who the Little Printer was for with yea-sayers adamantly assuring me that it was for everyone and anyone.

Also, check out that hashtag #ShineBright. Takes a couple of clicks until you get someone who isn't listing PR, marketing, comms, social media or blogging as their profession. My studio-mates got one of these packages so I know they are sending them to some genuinely cool people that make stuff instead of just selling it but you have to wonder who exactly chose the words 'elite and 'creatives' in the first place.

It's kind of a natural progression I suppose. BERG/BERG Cloud, big though they may be in certain circles, are still a startup trying to get past endup and into a sustainable working business from where they'll probably get really, really interesting and this may just be a regrettably necessary step for exposure to greater things. Fair enough though. Maybe not a pretty tactic but if this post tells you anything, it worked.

Pecha Kucha at CSM's Narrative Environments.

I went and said some words for the MA grads and friends at a Pecha Kucha event at Central Saint Martins a few weeks back. I've got the video here and decided since it was a short one and the sound is a bit on and off that I would write those words - or a resemblance of them - for you to read.



World building is essentially one of the first things you start doing as a child. Constructing fantasies and fictions - playing - is a way of reconfiguring the social rules around you to understand how people and interactions work and helps in constructing a vision of the world. As a kid I played Sim City religiously as probably the earliest outpouring of my love of world building.


All my projects involve some sort of constructed world. I'm not doing this for pure fantasy, like some films or novels, but because it creates a psychological playground where you can manage and frame difficult ideas to lend them a clearer perspective. Suspending disbelief allows people to engage more wholesomely with reality in some ways.

Good stories and fictions are always informed by reality. They're not just plucked out of thin air but are reflections and focused pathways into the world around us. By building a world to put complex ideas in, you can reshuffle them and make the more readable.


This is kind of how I see reality. There's a lot of things that are really happening that are often obfuscated or confused by the complexities of the world. It's hard to figure out, to an outsider, what's important and how it relates to other things.


Building a fictional world to place these things in allows you to become an editor of reality. You can amplify previously unnoticed things and remove a lot of the 'mess.' You have to be careful not to go to far. Your world must be believable, if improbable. If the world you've built is impossible then it's easy to dismiss and if it's too real, then it's hard to engage with properly.


You must also be very careful of 'topias. Both utopias and dystopias are fundamentally nefarious and misleading. They always have an agenda attached which tends to be leading people coming to them down a set chain of thought or belief. They exist together as a carrot and a stick.


Utopia, the carrot, is the unachievable dream. The promise of advertising and fantasies that are used to distract and sell impossible ideas. It's used to seduce and to sell.


Dystopia, the stick, is used as a constant threat of reprimand. The way things will be if you don't do x. It's used to opress, terrify and decieve.


The sweet-spot is the uncanny normal. A world that is recognisable and understandable, that we can relate to easily but where the rules are just slightly different. Where something has been changed. The familiarity drives the imagination into asking questions about what might have lead to these changes - the right kind of questions.


World building precedents were largely established in the seventies. Where two approaches were recognised.


JRR Tolkein is one of the finest examples of a 'top-down' approach to world building. Before he'd written a word of the Middle Earth saga, he constructed the history, the mythology, songs, language, arts, culture and history. He drew maps, family trees and designs for objects. Through this intricate universe he threaded the stories and it's through these that the universe is revealed.


Mervyn Peake is one of my favourite examples of a 'bottom-up' approach. The Gormenghast trilogy is allegorical and limited. We're presented a handful of characters in, mostly, one setting and from that we ourselves extrapolate the world out from the relationships, interactions and histories of this limited cast.


This, in design, is often referred to as diegetic prototyping. This involves the use of objects that clearly aren't from 'our' world. People are then invited to expand the world outwards and ask questions about the kind of world where this type of object exists.


Stanley Kubrick is a great example of the use of diegetic prototypes. He invented the iPad in 1964 for 2001: A Space Odyssey. Through a handful of characters and the objects and routines on one ship-setting, we can build an image of the kind of wider universe that Kubrick envisioned.


Recently I've started to write an allegorical fiction for a new project. This story has a beginning, a middle and an end, and I've considered it a fable. I want to provide a microcosm where the story itself is the diegetic prototype but one of our world, just seen through a slightly more compressed view.


This allows us to see a lot of those complex and hidden interactions and ideologies better. At a place or space where all the rules and ideals are compressed, it's easier to handle, see and manage the whole.


In the past I've worked at a lot larger scale. This timeline was part of a sprawling project around the history of power. I worked up a timeline that was a mix of real history and projected future. Combining the two to show their influence over each other and how through hindsight we can start to see why things have happened a certain way.


And this allows you to challenge the major consensus narrative, the accepted version of events.

Weeknotes 13; The monthnotes edition

Dirigible future fantasies

Balloons, balloons, balloons
Following on from my previous post about balloons I've begun a collection of them. I'm particularly interested in their symbolic rather than practical use. How they seem to be a new (or perhaps ancient) form of aspirational object. If you have any links to the dirigible darlings being used to sell a product or service then hook me up.

Also in relavantly bleak news, North Korea has promised to shoot down any balloons it sees. The dictatorship feels that the propaganda they gently waft over the border poses a threat to regime stability. Nasty, subversive balloons.

James Bridle also shared some words about a more practical interpretation of balloons and his work with them at Fabrica recently. Check it out. 


Stacktivism
The other weekend was punctuated with both an extremely painful game of rounders and a day in Hackney for the Stacktivism unconference. There's still a lot to be digested here. A wide range of people were assembled looking at different layers of things generally circulating the idea of the stack/Stack/stacks but what ultimately perhaps came out of it was an interesting dialectic between optimists and pessimists/realists. Ultimately it was a great gathering of folk and there were some great talks from Paul Graham Raven, The Department of No and Georgina Voss for instance, but what they mean together and whether we're any closer to understanding what it's all about/for remains to be seen.

I refer you to Metahaven's interview The Cloud, The State and The Stack.

88.7
The 'boat project' is going back on exhibition in September at a show in Dortmund called Requiem for A Bank. I'm not sure on a lot of the other artists but the Department of No will be there also. Hopefully there'll be some stuff out there soon. I've also decided to go back to render school with a lot of it. Amazing to think how much my abilities with 3D have accelerated since then. 

Into Your Hands They Are Delivered
Done, shipped, packed off. The website's built and will probably go live in the next week or so. I'm heading out on Friday to start set up and then there'll be some exciting and dramatic photographs on this very website. Woot.

SKIP Summer School
The beginning of last week was spent giving a lecture and taking part in a panel as part of the SKIP summer school between Kingston, the Royal College of Art and University of the Arts London. I wasn't there for it's entirety but there were a lot of great conversations including stuff around situating critical design in the design world as an agonist element which I found to be quite provocative. So much so that I'm considering removing 'artist and' form 'artist and designer' in my title. Reflections on this welcome.


Improving Reality - Sept 5th
I'm genuinely excited to be talking at Improving Reality on the 5th of September in Brighton. Some of the other folk are people I look up to a huge amount and it's a genuine privilege. It's also a really dazzling lineup of people. Check it out.



More soon hopefully...

Forever Robot

The word 'robot' was coined in 1920 by Czech writer Karel Čapek in his play R.U.R. (Rossum's Universal Robots). The word figuratively means 'hard work' or 'labour' in Czech and he coined it to describe artificial people that performed menial labour in the play. Of course the concept of an automated humanoid predates the name by perhaps hundreds, if not thousands, of years but this is the same word we still use today to describe the tens of thousands of automata that permeate culture both real and irreal.



I invite you to consider the backbone of the 'robot' - the quest for the artificial human. This has remained unchanged since Eric (left) debuted in 1928 and even before. It has been continued up to the present and future incarnations of Honda's omnipresent Asimo. Over 90 years of pursuing the same technological goal - a humanoid robot. And for what prize? We all know they're falling into the uncanny valley and no matter what AI says, we won't want them in our homes. It's not as if this is even terra incognita. The critical debate of humanoid robots spans through endless cultural incarnations, with much the same result: Off the top of my head Star Trek, Blade Runner, Real Humans, Ghost In The Shell, the aforementioned AI, Isaac Asimov, I, Robot, the Alien franchise, S1MONE, RoboCop, Not Quite Human, Terminator not to mention the miasma of novels. Even robot naming seems to crash headlong into cliches, providing ground for some sort of robots of fact or fiction quiz - the Care-O-Bot with a name straight out of the Jetsons for instance.

Most other technologies seem to get torn up, critiqued, branded, rebranded, rebranded and then either doomed to obsolescence or just stripped of all useful advances and turned into something else. Take the spaceship:



The name has kind of stuck and that's good. This is because like 'robot' it describes a purpose rather than describing the object itself. A spaceship is a ship for space, whatever form that is while a compact disc, for instance, can only be one form. But it's not like there's one categoric reality of what a spaceship is. The child in the imagination is drawn to the Tin-Tin style; all pointed tail fins and shiny red, more cadillac than zero gravity craft. Failing that you could probably say that the space shuttle fills a cultural gap, but now that's been mothballed with no viable successor. Besides which it was never really for space flight so much as a trip to the shops in astro terms. Ok, so maybe the Millenium Falcon? Yeah maybe, but most women I know hate Star Wars and the idea of a spaceship is at best some phallic and inexplicably moving tower which I would call a rocket. Say 'robot' and I bet we all draw the same picture.

The spaceship suffers from obvious problems though. While the imagination for spaceships is vast, probably vaster than robots in fact. The criteria for their construction is somewhat... limited. Essentially they have to perform a very difficult task and no matter how much we might lust after falcons, the phallic objects are the only thing we can muster that actually does the job. There's probably only a few dozen actual working spaceships.

The same is not true of robots. The constraints are pretty much minimal, they could be as varied as life on earth but at the same time have none of the demand for life's foibles; heat, light, air, water, shelter etc. There are already thousands of robots operating in the world. Maybe not the human type, but in the broadest terms something that can make decisions and move itself. The imagination struggles to deal with such a vast definition and such a multiplicity of outcomes that perhaps we just default to the humanoid as the marker at the center of the theater of robots.

Perhaps that's why we're still pursuing humanoid robots. The road is so smooth, so wide and limitless to a robotic future that there's been no need to pause and rebrand so far.