Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts

Monday, 11 November 2019

Techy or tacky: why social media is just about bearable

I joined Twitter this week.
Now, given that Twitter has been around for over a decade, you might think I'm coming a little late to the party, and you'd be absolutely right. This is no accident. I've been purposely avoiding Twitter under the impression that it's a platform where people go to snipe about the contestants on Celebrity Love Island having cellulite, or to spread disinformation about the 'dangers' of vaccines, to showcase their hatred of Jews and Muslims, and to share the general minutiae of their everyday lives with the entire planet.

I haven't changed my opinion in this respect; I still think that Twitter is the place to go to discuss celebrity cellulite, to spread disinformation, hatred, and minutiae - but now I'm willing to admit that there is (a little) more to it than merely this.

It's not just Twitter of course: Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, Weibo (etc) are also guilty. Social media as an institution is predicated on the fact that people love to make snarky comments from behind the safety of the screen. I've written previous posts about people encouraging a girl to kill herself on social media (which sadly, she did), and people are oh-so willing to criticise politicians, celebrities, and indeed anyone via the wonderful internet.

I must admit I'm not above this sort of attitude - after all, in this blog post I have made (albeit implicit) judgements about people who watch Celebrity Love Island, oppose vaccinations, and so on. It's a human compulsion to criticise, and social media is the ideal place to do it: people can be vicious without (much) recourse, and reading the comments is a sure-fire way to waste away your life. That's why I try to avoid it.

You might be surprised that someone writing a PhD about AI and future tech shuns social media, but there is no reason to think that all tech is a force for good. We shouldn't just accept tech with open arms merely because it is new or techy. (Indeed, my thesis will serve as a warning as well as an attempt at a solution to the perils of new tech.)

I've not always shunned social media: I spent ten years of my life on Facebook, and it was not time well spent. I knew it was drivel, yet I found myself scrolling through it several times a day, often shaking my head at the banality of its content, but reading it nonetheless! 

I probably spent an hour a day looking at the chocolate-covered faces of the nephews of old school friends, or watching people I once met on holiday pour a bucket of ice over their head, or listening to the rants of people I didnt really consider friends, but felt social pressure to friend them on Facebook because they'd sent me a request and I sort of knew them. It took the Cambridge Analytica scandal in 2018 to give me the push I needed to leave Facebook. 

So, I deleted my account.* The following day, there were several times when I thought to myself "I'll just check Faceb-- oh, I deleted it. Ok I'll do something else." Within a couple of days, I stopped thinking about it altogether, and didn't miss it at all. Now, it's just not a part of my life any more. It's something I wasted a lot of time on, and ditching it gave me more time to devote to other things (such as my son -- not just eBay, Pinterest and TV!)
* Social media being what it is, I understand that my profile was not really deleted, at least, not by Facebook. It'll never be obliterated, short of a planetary meltdown on the scale of the extinction of the dinosaurs.

After that watershed moment (not just leaving Facebook, but leaving Facebook and not missing it at all), I resolved to stay away from social media for good. In my humble opinion, Facebook is possibly the least toxic of the social media outlets: at least it's people I know writing about things in their actual lives. On the other hand, Instagram is probably rife with duck-pout selfies and photos of people's dinners (this is my guess; I must admit I haven't checked). Snapchat is the place to go if you wish to receive unsolicited "dick pics" (again, this is my guess, not an empirical fact). And as I wrote earlier, Twitter is primarily celebrity-bashing, banal arguments, and disinformation. Weibo I'm less sure about, but it is probably filled with posts of people wholeheartedly endorsing the amazing Chinese government. In a nutshell, it seems to me that social media platforms are the means by which humans disseminate the drivel which we would tune out if someone were saying it IRL (in real life). Or it is the written (photographic) manifestation of smalltalk which is palatable in tiny doses, but causes severe nausea and brain damage when taken as a regular part of one's diet. 

So why the turnaround?

If the above is my genuine opinion of social media (and it is) then why on earth have I just joined Twitter?

Well, I was convinced by my friend and fellow grad student Mo (I'm not mentioning their real name; I wouldn't want to be named on someone's blog without my knowledge, unless they were citing my awesome work, of course). Mo said that Twitter is a great place to find out about new research, to make connections with people writing about similar things, and to find out about conferences. At first I was unconvinced, but Mo made a compelling argument. Mo also said Twitter is a great place to self-publicise (although Mo noted that they hate soing this, as it sounds so arrogant and conceited).

I gave it a fair bit of thought, and decided that Mo was probably quite right - Twitter could be useful.

But how could I go on Twitter whilst avoiding the chatter about celebrity cosmetic surgery and the banal minutiae of strangers' lives? Further reflection gave me my answer, and I felt more than a little sheepish. Social media is an echo chamber: if my previous experiences were characterised by pointless trivialities, then I had only myself to blame. If my online friends had interests which I was/am so disdainful of, then why did I engage with it - and with them? I must have engaged with it, because it kept coming back! 

The Plan

This time around, on Twitter, my intention is this: 
1. Follow only people or organisations whose interests truly fit with my own
2. Don't engage with banality, should I happen to see it
3. Unfollow people who routinely post banality 

Will it work out? We shall see. If I don't complete my PhD because I'm too busy commenting on botched nosejobs and why a score on Strictly should have been an 8 rather than a 7, then we'll know the experiment failed.

Wish me luck.

Thursday, 18 October 2018

Being a woman in Philosophy

The blog Being a Woman in Philosophy (BAWIP) is a well-known collaborative blog; it details some very interesting and eye-opening (not to mention eye-watering) events which have happened to women in the field of philosophy. It's just appalling that people have had to go through these experiences, and it's genuinely alarming if these experiences are commonplace for women in philosophy.

But are they commonplace? I don't know for sure, but I do know that my experience of being a woman in philosophy is entirely at odds with what is on the BAWIP blog.

I was a philosophy undergrad in the late 90s, and I've taught A Level philosophy for about 8 years, and now I have been doing an MA in philosophy at university for the past 2 years; I'm just starting my PhD. I've been a woman throughout, I might add. I don't believe I have ever experience
d any discrimination, harassment, a chilly climate, or anything of the sort. Let's disregard my years of teaching A levels since that's not comparing like with like vis-a-vis the BAWIP blog; let me just consider my experiences as a woman in philosophy as a student at university.

"Yes, I'm female. No, I don't want you to kiss me."
I don't recall every detail of my undergrad degree at Keele 20 years ago, but given that I don't remember any sexual harassment or discrimination, I'm willing to say that none happened (to me). The majority of my professors were men, but there were also some women, and the lectures and seminars which were led by a woman were not qualitatively different from those led by a man. I was outnumbered by males in all my classes, but I didn't care. Males might have "dominated the discussion" in virtue of there being more of them in the room, but I was someone who spoke frequently in seminars, and I never felt any discrepancy or discrimination based on sex or gender. In fact, I have nothing but great memories of my Philosophy degree at Keele; studying there was an absolute pleasure and they were some of the best years of my life.

My experiences as an MA student - and now a PhD student - at Nottingham have not been noticeably different. Yes, I'm almost always outnumbered by men, but this does not bother me. Actually, I quite like being outnumbered by men and I often feel more comfortable in a room full of men than a room full of women. Why? Hard to say. As a kid I was a tomboy, and as an adolescent and young adult, I had interests in activities which happened to be male-dominated. I did sports and activities where I was sometimes the only female among 10-20 males, and I never felt threatened by any of them; they were my friends. So I've always been quite comfortable with being outnumbered by men. From my teenage years onwards, the guys I was surrounded by sometimes made sexual jokes or innuendos, "locker room talk" and the occasional sexist comment, but I either laughed along with them, rolled my eyes and sighed, or gave as good as I got; I never felt uncomfortable or harassed. Sometimes my female friends and I would talk about sex, make sexual innuendos or sexist jokes, so what's the difference? None, as far as I can see. So those were my experiences of being a woman in sport and recreation.

Back to being a woman in philosophy... Yes I'm outnumbered, and no it doesn't bother me in the slightest. I've had contact (viz. conversations) with probably around 70 men and 15 women working or studying in Philosophy over the past 2 years, and every one without exception* has been normal, honest, decent, kind, and I haven't detected the faintest whiff of sexism. Ever. I've been to seminars; I've attended lectures; I've had private conversations in their offices; I've spoken to them less formally over lunch; we've emailed each other... and each and every man has behaved, as far as I can tell, with the utmost integrity, respect, warmth and professionalism. I consider several of them to be my friends. Just to be clear, it is not that I have noticed sexism but been OK with it; it is that I have never noticed any sexism in philosophy. (This differs from my teenage experiences in male-dominated sports and activities, where sexism occurred but I lived with it.)

*Actually there was a man who seemed hostile towards men and women alike, but he only stuck around for a few weeks.

So, my experiences seem fundamentally different from those collected on the Being a Woman in Philosophy blog. There are a few ways to explain the difference:
1. Different institutions;
2. Different intersections;
3. Different foci (confirmation bias);
4. Cherry-picking.
Let's consider each of these.

Different institutions

It's possible that the institutions mentioned on the BAWIP blog are at the opposite end of the spectrum to mine. Perhaps there really is abundant sexism in other universities, and none whatsoever in mine. But this seems highly implausible: it would be remarkably good luck if  sexism is rife but I just so happened to have attended two non-sexist institutions in different areas of the country 20 years apart. It's also implausible because I have had plenty of contact with people from outside my own institution, and indeed from different countries, and all of them, I would say, have behaved just as impeccably as the men in my university. So let's dismiss this idea as simply unconvincing.

Different intersections

A second possible explanation is that the experiences on the blog are from women who are discriminated against not (just) because they are women, but because they are working-class, transgender, people of colour, disabled, or some other reason, whereas I am a white woman who doesn't tick any other boxes where discrimination often occurs. So in many ways, as a white cisgender, able bodied person I am in the overwhelming majority, whereas others may not be. It may be that men's attitudes towards me is markedly different from their attitude towards black women, Asian women, disabled women, trans women, and so on. This is possible, but it seems highly implausible that the pleasant and welcoming male philosophers I know would suddenly change when a woman of colour, trans, disabled or whatever appears on the scene. One reason why I am convinced that this change in behaviour doesn't occur is that I have been in lectures and conferences where there have been women of colour and other minorities in the audience, and a white man at the front, and I would say none of the men have behaved inappropriately or in a sexist way. But hey, I suppose I have to admit that it's possible that some men might have Jeckyl-and-Hyde personalities whereby they behave impeccably when in a public setting, but offensively when in private. I just don't believe that this is true of the men I know. And even if it is true, then the difficulty is not specifically being a woman in philosophy, but being a trans woman in philosophy, a woman of colour in philosophy, and so on.

Different foci (confirmation bias)

It is possible that the women on BAWIP and I simply focus on different  things. I don't believe I'm in a sexist environment, and so any sexist comments that are said simply don't make it onto my radar, whereas someone who does believe they are in a sexist environment would pick up on even tiny instances of sexism. This seems like quite a plausible possibility to me. But is it that I'm getting lots of false negatives, or that the women on the Being a Woman in Philosophy blog are getting lots of false positives?

Perhaps 'false' is an inappropriate term, and there is no mind-independent fact about whether x is offensive or sexist; perhaps x is offensive iff someone believes it's offensive? (That's an issue I'll explore another time.) It does seem possible that people who are already feeling discriminated against, harassed or in a 'chilly climate' due to their sex would be more attuned to noticing sexist comments; this is a confirmation bias, and I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how confirmation bias can disrupt our objectivity. if these women are having a confirmation bias, then the incidents may be out of proportion or misinterpreted. ...But I am also susceptible to confirmation bias, and so perhaps I really am oblivious to sexism right in front of me? I don't think I am oblivious, but that's the nature of being oblivious, I suppose.

If I think really hard, I can recall experiences which, with a fair amount of spin, could be framed as sexist. For example: people accidentally referring to the author of a paper as 'he' even though it was written by a woman; people using male pronouns when talking about a generic philosopher; using male pronouns in written work. I wouldn't call any of these sexism; the only reason I mention them is that I've heard other people describe them as sexist. I'm not convinced that they are sexist - in fact, I've done all of these things myself. Does this mean that the reason I don't perceive the problem is because I'm part of the problem? I don't think it does, but again, perhaps I am just oblivious - and oblivious to the fact that I'm oblivious. Perhaps my definition of sexism is just different to others' (although many, but not all of the experiences detailed on the BAWIP blog are, even by my reckoning, quite clear examples of blatant and unacceptable sexism and sexual harassment).

So I think it's really quite plausible and likely that other women notice sexism where I don't notice it; whether the sexism genuinely exists or not seems something of a grey area. I've definitely had conversations (outside of philosophy) where it was clear to me that A was being disdainful towards B, yet in private discussions with B, it became evident that B didn't notice or didn't believe that A was being disdainful. Without further information, it's not clear whether B or I was correct about the behaviour of A. But this sort of occurrence could plausibly explain why my experience of being a woman in philosophy differs so fundamentally from those described on the BAWIP blog. But I think that confirmation bias alone doesn't explain the sheer volume of instances described on the BAWIP blog.

Cherry-picking

I think cherry-picking is a fair criticism to be made of a blog which collects sexist experiences from women in philosophy, and gathers them together all in one place. If every woman who works in philosophy for say 30 years experiences a single instance of sexism and shares it to the blog, the blog would have reams and reams of material - thousands and thousands of examples. But would one experience per woman per career truly constitute a pervasive sexist climate in philosophy? I don't believe that it would. That's not to mitigate or belittle the genuine and sometimes harrowing experiences detailed on the blog, but we need to remember that they have been cherry-picked because they are so sexist. When I first read the blog, I actually thought they were all the experiences of one woman (I was horrified!) - but they aren't. They are the collected anecdotes of goodness knows how many women. That doesn't make them any less disturbing or any more acceptable, but if they are set against a backdrop of almost universally good experiences of women working alongside men, they lose some of their potency.

Look! A red apple!
Cherry-picking is such a problematic venture when trying to fairly represent the experiences of an entire group. I'm not wholly clear on whether the BAWIP blog is aiming to fairly represent the experiences of all women in philosophy, or whether it is merely trying to gather together some of the worst problems with gender inequality. If the latter, then my argument here has little weight to it, but the title of the blog, Being a Woman in Philosophy implies the former - that it speaks for all women, and shows what it is like to be a woman in philosophy. If it really is intending to show the daily reality for all or even most women in philosophy, then I think it probably fails. If I had no idea about what it was like to be a woman in philosophy, and I read the blog to find out, I don't think it would give me an accurate picture of the reality for most women. I know for sure that it does not describe my experiences at all; it's at the other end of the spectrum. So I think cherry-picking goes a long way towards explaining why my experiences are so different from those detailed on the blog.

The repercussions and the future

Do some men in philosophy make occasional sexist remarks or actions? Yeah, some probably do. But the vast, vast majority of men in philosophy that I have met - and men outside of philosophy for that matter - are kind, decent, friendly, professional, and not sexist.

The BAWIP blog may inadvertently be contributing to the very problem it seeks to eradicate: gender imbalance and gender inequality. Suppose that a 17-year old girl is considering studying philosophy for her degree, and suppose that a female MA student is considering doing a PhD in philosophy, and suppose that a female PhD student is considering following a career as an academic philosopher - and that all three of these women read the BAWIP blog to find out what it's "really" like to be a woman working in philosophy. It's plausible to think that some such women will read the blog, and run a mile. Why would any sensible woman want to enter into a career which is so horrendously sexist, where women are frequent victims of sexual harassment and even sexual violence? The BAWIP blog probably puts at least some young women off studying philosophy, and puts some women off a career in philosophy; this will only contribute to the under-representation of women in philosophy. Under-representation of a particular group is a recipe for discrimination, and so it continues. This is not a foregone certainty, but I think the blog may put some women off a career which they could otherwise have been well-suited to... and if it does, that's quite sad.

Of course, some people will argue that there is something to be gained from making any acts of bigotry and harassment public; that in making them public, we are better able to guard against them. I can see why people find such an argument appealing, but I am not wholly convinced by it. If one experiences harassment, discrimination or bigotry, one should absolutely report it to the Head of Department if not the police, but I think there is little to be gained from going public (ish) on a blog.

For my own case, I will continue to expect and look for the best in the men (and women) around me, and I won't try to add spin and reinterpret every action as if it's one motivated by sexism. I won't gather together all the tiny minutiae of times when someone referred to a philosopher as 'he' by accident, or didn't include "enough" women on the reading list for a module. I haven't seen any sexism until now, and I doubt I will see any in the near future. If that means I am happy in ignorance, then I am content indeed to be happy in ignorance.

Thursday, 1 March 2018

Here goes...

I'm feeling a huge amount of pressure to create an amazing, inspiring and poignant first blog post. The source of that pressure is, of course, myself. What follows will almost certainly fail to live up to expectations - both yours and mine. This blog will be my unfettered and uncensored philosophical thoughts, which may decline in to rants and ramblings, but I can live with that. It's not like anyone is ever going to read this, right?

I am and will always be a student of Philosophy with a capital P. Yes, I've been a teacher of (A-Level) Philosophy for a number of years, but I'm primarily a student, and barely a day goes by where I'm not dumbfounded by how little I know.

Some students standing around UoN whilst talking and laughing and
reading and writing, which is exactly what we all do, all the time.
I'm currently a postgrad student at the University of Nottingham, and the experience is quite something. I am constantly surrounded by people who are far more astute, far more well-read, and often far younger than me. It's humbling, but not (always) humiliating to be struggling to appear adequate in such a place. As for whether I am genuinely out of my depth, or whether I'm suffering from an acute case of impostor syndrome, I'll leave that up to you to decide
based on my forthcoming posts.

No pressure at all then...