Life on the screen
Yes, I know that's the title of a book by Sherry Turkle --and one worth reading if you're curious about contemporary concepts of the self (her subtitle: "Identity in the Age of the Internet").But I'm not referencing her work; I'm pointing to a study released today by the Pew Internet and American Life Project (found via a post on Deckchairs on the Titanic).
The study says an amazing 44 percent of U.S. internet users have contributed thoughts and files to the online world--words, images, websites, chat entries, blogs, etc. The study breaks these creative users into three categories:
Power creators are those "most enthusiastic about content-creating activities. They are young--their average age is 25--and they are more likely than other kinds of creators do things like use instant messaging, play games, and download music. And they are the most likely group to be blogging." [What you're reading right now is a blog.]
Older creators "have an average age of 58 and are experienced Internet users. They are highly educated, like sharing pictures, and are the most likely of the creator groups to have built their own Web sites. They are also the most likely to have used the Internet for genealogical research."
Content omnivores are the "heaviest overall users of the Internet. Most are employed. Most log on frequently and spend considerable time online doing a variety of activities. They are likely to have broadband connections at home. The average age of this group is 40."
As someone with a strong imago anthropology, I begin to wonder how the creation of digital content mirrors--or perhaps distorts?--the creative power of God. Does such activity lead one to wonder at the way the Holy Spirit appropriates technology? Or does it contribute to an idolatry of self ("look at the cool online world I created")?
These sorts of questions are, of course, beyond the scope of the Pew study. But entering "religion" into the project's search engine pulls up dozens of studies linking the internet and faith, and even a brief surf through "God blogs" and "religion blogs" reveals a whole lot of serious reflection going on about faith, spirituality, the church, and God.
Few of these writers reference pastoral theology, even though many of the themes/memes they write about are dear to practical and pastoral theology. How might we as a field best contribute to these grassroots, online conversations? What are some rudimentary guidelines for caring, pastoral conversation in the context of life on the screen?
.: Posted by Duane Bidwell on Sunday, February 29, 2004
"Sour grapes?--I've made wine, baby . . ."
So begins Lawrence Hammar's reflection on adjuncting and working outside academe. It's in the current issue of The Qualitative Report.Starving grad students and those who can't stand their current faculty appointments might find some humor (and food for thought) in his rambling essay. My favorite part:
"I had to answer a memo that I had put off for too long already, inquiring as to when I wanted to be tested on the newest stack of blue-colored training materials, impressively labeled 'Deviations' (you don't even wanna know). 'Nope,' I said to myself, 'I am drawing a line in the sand. You can't make me, you can't make me.'"
His "Consulting Dos and Don'ts" are good advice for anyone who works for a living. They include this frightening line:
"If you're still a youngish academic, don't make the mistake of thinking that if you just keep plugging away, you'll eventually get a job."
.: Posted by Duane Bidwell on Thursday, February 26, 2004
Advertising ruins kids
That's the gist of a report issued this week by an American Psychological Association task force that examined the impact of commercialism on children.Television advertising, the study says, leads to unhealthy childhood habits, and childhood habits can become life-long problems once patterns of consumption are established. This is particularly a problem among young children.
"Research shows," the APA said in a press release, "that children under the age of eight are unable to critically comprehend televised advertising messages and are prone to accept advertiser messages as truthful, accurate and unbiased. This can lead to unhealthy eating habits as evidenced by today's youth obesity epidemic."
A few days later, the Center for Science in the Public Interest underscored this finding by releasing its own report about the supersized calories in children's menus at popular restaurants.
Pastoral theology has much to offer to this line of thought, bringing religion into the public sphere by reflecting on the intersection of Christian belief and the practices (and impacts) of commercialism.
How, for instance, might we develop pastoral practices that help young children understand care of their bodies as a stewardship concern tied closely to their identities as children of God? ["Garbage in, garbage out," so to speak, even when you're made in the image of God.]
Can a lived theology/spirituality of embodiment provide children--even those younger than 8--an altogether different voice about the value of their bodies (and their lives) as something more than a container for commercial junk? What would such a theology/spirituality look like, lived out in the reality of our communities of faith?
How might various Christian traditions address commercialism and its impact on the youngest and poorest in our culture as an issue of justice?
APA says two trends contribute to the problem: "the growth in advertising channels reaching children and the privatization of children's media use," which together "have resulted in a dramatic increase in advertising directly intended for the eyes and ears of children."
Advertisers, the report states, spend more than $12 billion per year to reach the youth market, and children view more than 40,000 commercials each year.
As a result of the study, the APA's Task Force on Advertising and Children recommends that advertising targeting children under the age of eight be restricted. (You can read the whole report here.)
.: Posted by Duane Bidwell on Thursday, February 26, 2004
Message in a bottle . . .
When I was a kid, my brother and I entertained ourselves during the steamy Illinois summer by sealing notes in bottles and jars, and then bicycling shirtless to the bridge over the Boneyard drainage ditch. Once we arrived, hot tar on High Cross Road sticky under our bare feet, we tossed our missives into swirling brown water and watched them bob out of sight.That's just what this initial post to Spondizo feels like--flinging verbiage at the universe in hope that some uncanny current will deliver it up to someone who cares.
It could happen; after all, one of my childhood bottles did end up in someone else's hands: a kid my age who telephoned one Saturday afternoon from a town 50 miles downstream to say he'd found my note.
(It was an awkward conversation; after all, the only thing we had in common was a scrap of paper in a mayonnaise jar.)
Twenty-seven years later, I'm still doing the same thing.
So. Here it is. We've begun.
.: Posted by Duane Bidwell on Thursday, February 26, 2004