Assignment #2: Power and the smartphone subjectivity

In late 2010 and early 2011, the world was thrilled (and terrified) to witness the staggering might of the
social media, which then seemed to be fundamentally reshaping and redefining the geopolitics of the
North Africa as well as the wider Arab world. Social media became “a critical tool” that changed
everything (Lister & Smith, 2011, 28 January); the uprising in Egypt was a “Facebook revolt” (Giglio,
2011, January 27); the social media technology created opportunities “to change the landscape of
collective action” (Eltantawy & Wiest, 2011); the social media played its role “at every step” of the
Egyptian revolution (Khondker, 2011, p. 677). All sorts of pundits lauded the potentiality of social media,
speculating how this new media had revolutionized and would continue changing the entire world.
Internet activist Wael Ghomin, in his interviews with CNN, recapitulated such enthusiasm in the
following statement: “If you want to liberate a society, just give them the Internet. If you want to have a
free society, just give them the Internet” (Sutter, 2011, February 22).

In hindsight, the social media was clearly not the answer to which Arab Spring protesters aspired;
followed by the Arab Winter, the Spring was able to challenge “simply too few of the fundamentals of
social, economic and political organization in the Arab world” (Kitchen, 2012). Notwithstanding the
unfulfilled dream of social progress in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, Syria, and Yemen, the “mobile penetration”
in the Arab world kept increasing and the mobile market in the region continued its growth (Deloitte LLP,
2013). In other words, despite all the social and political turmoil, the smartphone survived! Doubtless,
this mobile device of telecommunication has successfully seized its place in the mainstream modus
vivendi in today's most advanced countries and many developing nations alike.

What was so powerful about the smartphone that it outlived people’s enthusiasm and desire for freedom?
Following Foucault’s approach to power, the current essay focuses on the power of the smartphone as “a
set of actions upon other actions” (1982, p. 789). Which set of actions does the use of a smartphone
consist of and what are other actions such set of actions incites and induces? After all, what kind of
subject does it produce? Examined in the first part of the following paragraphs is Foucault’s
understanding of power in terms of “power relations.” Then the essay illustrates the potential “forms of
resistance and attempts made to dissociate” the power relations mediated by smartphones. The next
section investigates a set of actions constituting the use of smartphones. Finally, in light of what has
been discussed thus far, the essay draws important characteristics of a key product of power relations
of smartphones: the subjectivity of a smartphone user.

Foucault and Power

The peculiarity of Foucault’s approach to power resides in its original understanding of power in terms of
relations. By the term power, Foucault refers to neither any specific group of people or institutions (e.g. a
political state), nor a certain set of rules (e.g. the law or the conventional rules), nor a particular system of
domination of which the influence pervades a society as a whole (e.g. monarchy as a form of
government). Instead, power is understood as “the multiplicity of force relations” and “the process which
[…] transforms, strengthens, or reverses” such force relations (Foucault, 1990, p. 92). In other words,
power is a positive and productive network that produces things, knowledge, discourse, etc. Its function is
production rather than repression (Foucault 1980, p. 119). For example, Bentham’s Panopticon, the all-
seeing prison building designed to maximize the visibility of all inmates and minimize that of a prison
guard, does not restrict the prisoners’ behavior; instead, its power relations produces a particular type of
subjectivity that internalizes “the visibility trap” and therefore willingly conforms to the disciplinary
authority. The product of disciplinary power, exemplified by Panopticon, are “‘docile’ bodies” (Foucault,
1995, p. 138).

This kind of power cannot be possessed; rather, power is only exercised in a given situation at a given
moment. More precisely, power is exercised through certain actions that result in “the field of other
possible actions” (Foucault, 1982, p. 791). Such power does not operate in a random or an indiscriminate
fashion, for every power has “a series of aims and objectives” in terms of what it generates although there
is often no particular “inventor” of such ends (Foucault, 1990, p. 95). Foucault investigates such “power
relations” that exists in every social relations: “Power is everywhere” (Foucault, 1990, p. 93).

Power is always accompanied by resistance or, more precisely, “a plurality of resistances” (Foucault,
1990, p. 95). However, the latter is not merely a reaction or response that follows the former; rather,
power and resistances define each other as permanent and irreducible opposites ( Foucault, 1982;
Foucault, 1990). Simply put, they constitute two poles of the same relations. Nevertheless, such a
dichotomous view of power relations is rather too simplistic, for there are multiple points of resistance
instead of a “single locus of great Refusal” (Foucault, 1990, p. 96). Here, the notion of strategy can help
clarify Foucault’s understanding of power relations (1982, pp. 793-4): From this perspective,
power forms a particular strategy that produces subordination, while a strategy of struggle
or confrontation exists in each point of insubordination and constitutes “a frontier” of the
current relationship of power. If at any moment a specific strategy of struggle successfully defeats
the previously “winning” strategy, thereby arises a new relationship of power, which is the reversal of the
former relationship. On the other hand, if the current power relations “intensifies” and therefore
“extends,” the former points of potential confrontation will be replaced by a set of points of
insubordination, that is to say a new borderline of the power relations. Accordingly, Foucault’s study of
power begins with “taking the forms of resistance against different forms of power” (1982, p. 780), for
investigating the forms of resistance is equivalent to surveying the points of confrontation that are
simultaneously the points of insubordination, which together constitute the limits of the power relations in
question.

Anti-smartphone struggles
Provided that, the study of the power relations involving the use of smartphones must begin with
pondering over the efforts to resist against the medium, i.e., the anti-smartphone struggles. Using a
“dumbphone” constitutes the most fundamental form of resistance. Most people who refuse to use
smartphones are those who insist on using their pre-smartphone handsets “for just talk and text”
(Pennington, 2014, October 30). Some dumbphone users view smartphones unnecessary because they can
easily gain the access to the Internet, which they consider to be the main benefit of using a smartphone,
with their laptops. Furthermore, those who prefer dumbphones consider smartphones as “pernicious”
because they increase “the ease of access to the Internet” too much and therefore, renders their users ever
more vulnerable to being addicted to Web-surfing (Wayne, 2012, March 23). In this case, smartphones
are characterized by their “distractability” because most of its applications are “time wasters instead
of productivity boosters” (Wayne, 2012, March 23).

Other dumbphone users are concerned with the increased connectivity that accompanies smartphones,
which may disrupt one’s “work/life balance” (Cross, 2012, March 19). Using a smartphone means to join
“the connected culture” in which its user is expected to remain available at all times. The work-related
messages and emails do not distinguish whether their recipient is at work or at home. Cross, accordingly,
reveals her fear that adopting a smartphone may allow her work to “creep into my family time” and
thereby tear down “the tenuous wall I’ve built up between my home life and my career” (2012, March
19).

It must be noted that refusing to use a smartphone is not always equivalent to jettisoning social media or
the Internet altogether. Davis (2014, May 9), a owner of a 10-year old flip phone, is on social media
(“I’ve even live-tweeted events.”), mostly consumes news online, and “spend too many hours on email.”
Without a smartphone, however, she does not feel any need to respond to online messages “in the time
I’m walking between the subway and my apartment, or standing in line at the grocery store, or having
dinner with friends.” She points out that the problem of a smartphone is that its users are “left as partially
everywhere and fully nowhere.” Although she admits that she may get a smartphone someday (“probably
soon”), at least at the moment of writing the article, she considers that “the easy distractions that
smartphones offer” are detrimental rather than beneficial. James Cameron, a Academy Awards-winning
Canadian film director whose most renowned works include Titanic and Avatar, shares similar
concerns: that of being overly “available” and remaining “oblivious to the world around” one
(Graham,2014, August 5).

Other, more moderate strategies of struggle against the use of smartphones involve monitoring and
limiting the use of the device often with the help of smartphone applications—henceforth, apps. One
recent online article (Tech2 News Staff, 2014, Nov 2) introduces three apps designed to help their users to
monitor and limit their smartphone usage in order to “take a break and concentrate on other things.” One
app, Offtime, claims to help its user “to unplug better” by blocking “distracting” applications and
“customizes [the user’s] connectivity” by the following features: blocking calls and notifications while
leaving those from “VIP contacts” unblocked, sending auto-replies, limiting the user’s access to the
Internet as well as applications of the user’s choice, and monitoring and offering statistical analysis of the
user’s smartphone usage (offtime.co). Another app, Cheeky, offers a more simple service: it only informs
its users how many times a day he or she checks the device. Moment, still another app of the similar
service, allows the user to set daily limits for phone usage and notifies, or even turns off the phone, if the
user goes over the limit.

A more intuitive way to control one’s use of a smartphone includes temporarily keeping the device out of
reach, or sight. One example of this strategy consists of teachers’, or professors’, efforts to keep their
students’ smartphones off their sight during class hours. Students who put their smartphones in their bags
or pockets in order to focus on their homework offer another example of this form of resistance. Parents
who keep their children from bringing smartphones to the dinner table are making the same sort of
endeavors to distance the device from its user, though imperfectly and unsuccessfully.

A “winning” strategy of smartphones

The aforementioned forms of resistance reveal a few points of insubordination, which are simultaneously
points of confrontation, that partly make up a “winning” strategy with respect of the power relations
involving smartphones. The most essential part of this dominant strategy concerns attention. In other
words, power is exercised at each instance in which a smartphone successfully draws its user’s attention.
What, then, is done in order to seduce smartphone users to turn their eyes to their smartphone screen?

Notification is one of the most basic smartphone features designed to catch the user’s attention. Although
most smartphones allow their users to alter the setting for notifications, the default setting usually permits
the device to notify the users of new messages or updates. Depending on the setting, a new notification
may light up the screen and makes an alarming sound. Sometimes it gives the user some details, including
which application requires the user’s attention or what the new text message is about. In case of iOS 8.2,
the most up-to-date operating system for Apple mobile devices (such as iPhone, iPad and iPod Touch),
new notifications may appear on the top of the screen while the phone owner is using the device.
Furthermore, apps with new information or updates, which have not been recognized by the user yet, are
marked by red dot on the top left corner with a numeral that corresponds to the number of such updates as
a constant reminder of the new material. The red dot disappears once the app with a new update or a new
message is activated. In brief, various forms of notifications facilitate smartphones’ constant demand for
their users’ attention.

The influx of new information, which generates notifications, is mediated by apps. Each app acts as an
individual channel to a particular source of information. For example, my iPhone cannot give me any
notification for a new “friend request” to my Facebook account unless I have already installed a Facebook
app on my phone. Neither will I see any notification for new emails if I do not set up my “Mail” app in
order to enable the channeling of data from my email account to my phone. Once an app is downloaded,
installed and configured to cater for the user’s needs, the device effectively operates to feed the user with
the latest news. In contrast to the pop-up windows of Internet browsers on a laptop, the app system does
not forcefully open a new window in order to inform the arrival of new data, and therefore seems inviting
rather than intrusive and disruptive. Seemingly, the user is in control of the flow of information and apps
are at the mercy of the user.

However docile the apps appear to the user’s eyes, they essentially comprise a link to the larger system of
network that is far beyond the control of any individual, i.e. the Internet. Consequently, the compulsive
behaviors illustrated by smartphone users is comparable to the compulsive Web-surfing on a laptop
(Wayne, 2012, March 23). However, truly noteworthy is the difference between a laptop and a
smartphone, for using the former can be a form of resistance against using the latter. In a nutshell, the
merit of a smartphone is the enhanced access to the Internet. The smaller and lighter body of a
smartphone can be translated into the greater mobility. In addition, a smartphone takes an substantially
shorter time than a laptop to activate. A smartphone’s touch screen also offers its user a more intuitive
way to interacting with the device; instead of typing letters or moving a mouse cursor, the user can simply
tap on the object itself. Furthermore, smartphones benefit from the superior Internet availability provided
by telecommunications companies, such as Verizon and AT&T. Accordingly, a smartphone user can
remain online at all time, receive notifications at almost any circumstances, and respond to them with an
extreme convenience.
The distractable subject
When a smartphone user touches the screen to check new notifications, he or she submits to a novel
power relations mediated by a smartphone. Within this scheme, connectivity is a trap. The Internet will
neither slumber nor sleep; the new information accumulates incessantly, and so will notifications from
various apps. As a smartphone user repeatedly practices conformity to continual summons from
notifications, the user internalizes the incessant calls of his or her smartphone. From then on, the user
assumes a permanent stand-by status. Even before receiving any actual notification, the user is ready to be
notified.

It must be stressed that all notifications are of the same value. Regardless of the source or the content,
each notification can add one—nothing more, nothing less—to the number in a red dot on the top left
corner of an app. This perfect exchangeability extends to the world outside the screen, and that is the birth
of a new mode of subjectivity. Before the eyes of this novel subject, no information, no interaction, no
exchange has a privilege over others. Online or offline, something new deserves his or her attention.
Therefore, an alert on a smartphone screen generated by a single-word comment on one of his or her
Instagram picture and a dinner-time conversation with family members weigh the same. In fact, the term
distraction may be unfair characterization of the subjectivity in question, for everything is replaceable and
nothings is more important than others. In that sense, the smartphone user is never distracted from a
prime object by a secondary object; rather, the user is impartial to all that demands his or her
attention. This is the distractable subject.

Foucault finds that the question of power ultimately leads to the question of the human subject. Therefore,
the general theme of his analysis of various power relations is not power itself but the particular subjects
that arise within the power relations (Foucault, 1982, pp. 777-778). The answer to the question I have
posed earlier in this essay with respect to the might of smartphones, therefore, can be found in the totality
of technological apparatus which tears down all barriers between the user and the Internet and amounts to
the production of the particular mode of subjectivity defined by distraction—or, more precisely, its
distractability.