Musings on Lisa Nakamura's Digitizing Race

I'm a visual studies geek. That's why I liked Nakamura's approach and methodology in Digitizing Race: Visual Cultures of the Internet. According to Nakamura, the turn to new media studies and cultural studies (within both the academy and visual culture) has sponsored several examinations of phenomena like IM, gaming, digital interfaces, avatars, and even facebook; despite their proliferation, they have not entertained "serious" analyses, in that the critics have not explored them using serious critical practices, such as those of visual culture. Thus, Nakamura attempts to correct the problem by applying the critical approaches of visual culture and critical/cultural theory to the internet. This struck me as an improvement, since I'm all about pop culture and everyday life as serious, and grossly underestimated, sites where critical engagement occurs. So I had high expectations as I read.

I loved the introduction, for the most part. Nakamura does a great job of contextualizing the history and necessary -- at least according to her -- political implications/assumptions surrounding the Internet's inception. This was helpful, especially for understanding where her argument comes from. She also effectively defines and elaborates several concepts to which she refers throughout -- interactivity, for example -- as sites for examination and understanding of how (and maybe why?) the internet operates the way it does. I also found her introduction inspiring and illuminating, since she makes some claims that apply to many areas of the Internet; I found myself making notes and earmarks by several of her assertions for later use in my work on Facebook. So I was eager to read on.

And then...boy, was I disappointed. In my view, Nakamura's Introduction offers far more interesting, applicable, and intellectually stimulating (and articulated!) ideas than anything she writes in the following two chapters we read for this week. I'm beginning to think she wanted the book to go in one direction, and used the wrong stuff. For example, I was eagerly anticipating a sustained, (critically) rigorous, eloquent, and relevant analysis of AIM buddies, but instead I got what seemed to be a half-hearted attempt. It was half-hearted to me because it didn't really engage many of the interesting and smart assertions she made; it was almost like she presented a claim, then reconsidered. I say this because we go from talking about the visual components of three multi-part buddy icons (where, I wonder, are the other kinds, made not just by women or minorities, but mine, for example, which depicts two pink flowers???) to early film. Now, maybe I'm just nuts, but that's awfully schizophrenic. And I was willing to read on -- which I did -- but I STILL don't see the point of that comparison. This brings me to the main reason I was disappointed: too many threads and ideas, without enough detail or discussion. Only at the very end of the first chapter does Nakamura state that the icons she discusses are fetishes (and therefore not? resisting cultural expectations). I was hoping for a much more rigorous, and detailed, examination.

Secondly, I'm really not sure what she's arguing. In the Introduction, she presents two scenarios. On the one hand, the Internet was/is widely used as a means of depoliticizing, and therefore not discussing, race. She obviously takes umbrage at this. On the other hand, though, she points out that in fact, if we examine more "popular" things like IM, we can see publicly overt discussions and representations of race/ethnicity. Okay. I buy that... almost. Perhaps the reason why I'm skeptical of Nakamura's claims here has to do with the reasons why I'm skeptical of feminism: she makes a of assumptions that are just not true. She also assumes that it's a bad thing that race be eliminated on the internet. That is, she takes issue with the idea that the internet does not make race an overt category (which she says users automatically assume male whiteness, which I, for one, do NOT do), because it hides it. Now, isn't this what most people say they want? In other words, don't we want to end race or ethnicity as a defining category? Hasn't this caused too many problems? So why, then, does she VALUE racial depictions on the Internet? I'd be willing to bet that the same people who say that generic email interfaces are necessarily masculine (oh, don't get me started) are the same ones who also assume that they're also white. How does my PantherMail interface project ANY kind of racial or ethnic identity, other than the fact that it uses English? I'm trying, guys, to not explode. I mean, she's trying to make a point -- perhaps, take these things seriously, which I may not be doing. But for me, that is not the issue for discussion. The issue for discussion, the argument I think she wants to make, is the way that users' assumptions get in the way of their understanding of how discourse works (she says this in another context when she distills Hall's argument in Ch. 1). I wish she had done that.

All right, no more angry tangents. Back on subject. Nakamura seems to valorize these public representations of race as, among other things, sites of resistance. Cool! Way cool! I like that. But, first of all, she spends so little time actually discussing the AIM buddy icons that her point gets lost in a maelstrom of history, theoretical discussions which seem to have little to do with her argument, and tangent upon tangent of information. As a well-trained and dedicated reader, I get lost. So, her point is lost on the people she wants to speak to (she must have taken lessons from Judith Butler).

What I want her to do is to actually get down and dirty with AIM buddy icons -- and not just three of one type. I want her to really explore how the generic ones deal with, or hide racial identities, how they signify, their rhetoric, their purpose(s), and who uses them. She also wrongly assumes that youths are the only ones using, or caring, about this stuff. I'm going to be 26, and I hang out on AIM all the time -- though it's mostly to talk to my college friends for free. But therein lies another use. I'd like to see her do a real study: who uses the internet, for what/which purposes, how often, etc. Where are the user testimonials? Where are the discussions about demographics? Does she have evidence from minority users who take issue with the internet interfaces? And where are the discussions from the creators of those icons? (Now, I know that that might have been difficult, considering the anonymity of the internet, etc, but the point here is that her methodology is crappy). If she wants to apply visual studies methodology (albeit somewhat modified) to the Internet, then she actually needs to, like, do it. No visual studies person would examine a buddy icon without examining the production, the constraints, the iconology/iconography, its consumption, etc -- in short, I'm not sure what her methodology is. Apparently, to Nakamura, modification means "I can do whatever I want" --in an unclear way, based on my own narrow assumptions. Nice. It makes me want to continue to be an academic.

And another thing: she assumes that users of her "majority" --i.e. white, male, middle-class, etc -- are not resisting the norms. She doesn't explore how buddy icons can uphold the status quo (if one can even say that one exists on the internet, which I'm not sure there is) as well as how they may resist it. To return to my favorite example -- the analysis of the 3 buddy icons in Chapter 1 -- she barely touches on how these women are fetishized and fetishes, and only well after that discussion is over. I'm not saying I agree that they are fetishes/ized. I'm saying they might be, but to me, they really suggest an Americanized identity. Though the Muslim girl is wearing a veil, she's also wearing a DKNY top and fashionable jeans, which to me smacks of teeny-bopper, Americanized, popular culture; a popular culture where it's more important to pay attention to the trends. What I'm really saying here is that even if this icon represents a Muslim or Arab girl (which it probably does), it nonetheless seems to show a girl who wants to be considered American more than anything else. Perhaps an "American Muslim" -- or signify the message that "Muslims are Americans, too." Either way, all I have to say to Nakamura on this account is, go back to the drawing board and start over.

Other issues: the binary between object of interactivity and subject of interactivity. For me, these are both bad, because I can't help thinking of Althusser, Foucault, and Marx. Better, perhaps, would be "passive interactivity" vs. "active interactivity" -- if you want to maintain her use of binaries.

Very little explanation of "icon" in the context of buddy icons. I would think, if her project is to repurpose some of visual studies' terms/concepts, you ought to at least consider what it means there, and then offer an explanation of how it works differently in these contexts.

Misunderstanding of non-gaming, non-pregnant, and non-stay at home mom female users. First of all, not every woman who uses the Internet fits into one of these categories, and second, many female users often engage in other practices than "pregnancy chats" or "bridesmaid dress shopping." I don't just go on the internet to shop, chat with my friends, and commiserate with other women. As a woman, I am offended, and as a woman, she should be, too! I mean, how is she helping her argument along if she herself categorizes women as passive and flippant users of the internet? Just because men comprise the majority of the gaming industry, and buy a lot of things on the Internet (yet another claim I think is unfounded -- I buy all kinds of stuff on the internet), or play violent games, doesn't mean that women are passive. And is she saying that these "shoot'em up" games are more valuable, because they're at least aggressive?

Again, all I have to say is, re-read your theory, talk to Internet users, and change methodology. You can't just apply abstract critical theory to anything, and if you do, you should at least do it "right." Modification, Lisa Nakamura, does not mean you can ignore rigorous and responsible practice.

Fin, for now. Let's see how I feel after tomorrow.