Whats Your Profile?
Being 30, gaining weight by the minute, alarmed by the sense of anxiety that seems to come out of nowhere, I found no harm to go with the girls and sit in a cafe; smoke Shisha, and blend in the grand tapestry that is Cairo, like all Egyptian mortals. Each one of them took her iPhone out and started checking the endless iPhone applications for social networking websites. There was an application for men who like hairy men, there is an application for men who like young men, there is an application for sexually-ambiguous men, there is an application for anything and everything.
Our conversation was punctuated with those interludes of fingers gracefully gliding over luminescent screens for about 20 seconds at 15 minutes intervals. The more restless they became, the more the screens flickered, and fingers glided.
My stillness and pensive pose prompted one of them to ask me: 'Whats your profile?'
And I innocently answered him by listing my profile on the two social networking that we have been using for almost a decade. He shook his head dismissively and clarified his question by asking what is my profile on the 'iPhone apps'.
Well, there is none.
As I don't have an iPhone.
And instantly an outpouring of sympathy and compassion was directed at me. For I will never become part of this self-elected community of iPhone users who have distinguished themselves many times over, by their access not just to technology but the way in which we would use such technology. If the term social engineering ever sounded sinister to you, then this is one maleficent manifestation of it.
Not just social engineering. It is a reinvention of the notion of 'class' through 'technological innovation'. At the heart of it, is the 'filtering' of society by purchasing power - those who can actually afford to buy an iPhone, and it progresses to exclude those not completely attuned to the "social" application of such ingenious gadget.
I personally find the idea of poking a screen with your finger distasteful. Not to mention not completely hygenic.
But taste aside, my lack of accessibility to this technological device meant my own personal exclusion from this remarkable world that held them captive to it, unable to resist summoning their 'profiles' every 15 minutes for the fear of missing a potential mate.
One of them even had two phones, not just one.
And in this case of perpetual anticipation I found myself forced to witness it, as they checked one application after the other, exchanged tips on which application is better suited to the taste of the other, which application works best in Cairo and so on and so on.
While I sat there next to my less 'smart' phone, silent and alienated.
Scenes from the film Gattaca 1997, kept coming to my mind, in the (not-so-distant) future people will be able to selectively take out parts of their DNA or even introduce new traits. Only those who can afford to will be able to control the future of their offspring. It felt that only those who have access to this technology can take control of their 'social profile' and how they 'connect' to others and what kind of relationships they are able to have.
In a hyper-connected world, with complex gadgets and an irrational state of consumerism the notions of 'socialization' and 'relationships' become painfully problematic.
'The world at your finger tips' is one thing, but the world and its 'inhabitants' as well, is one form of illusion I don't think I can deal with very well.
But what is at the heart of this emancipated sense of control and connectivity? And what does it mean for an oppressed community like ours in Cairo?
It reinforces the notion of 'social distinction' through crude consumerism and access to technology. And this is not the rant of a broke queen whining about not being able to buy an iPhone. It terms of poverty and financial means they are many who live in the slums and walk around with iPhones. This is not where the problem lies.
The problem is this certain aptness and 'skill' in knowing how to "creatively" expand one's social capital via these technologies and their use. And not only expand but advance as well.
For the flimsy gay community in Cairo, the impact of such 'innovations' is perhaps to isolate further any chance of inter-connectivity. Or worse reinforce any existent biases and social restrictions.
One can argue that Facebook has been doing a wonderful job in democratizing these social processes and that is true to a great extent. But there is one thing that Facebook can not democratize, and that is Grindr. Or Growlr. Or Scruff.
It can not democratize any of those.
The anxiety it created in me, is not the anxiety of financial means, but the anxiety of a specific use of a certain technological device that has become a social gateway for an immediate way of getting to know people or 'hooking up'. Not that there are many users on Grindr anyway. But to add one more item to the list of things one must do to be able to find interesting potential dates or friends, makes one a little bit more than paranoid or obsessed.
But this is the future. The hyper-connected, super-transient and ephemeral social reality that we are part of. Where everything feels like one big commercial, and everyone is posing like they are trying to sell you something.
Madonna had it right all along.
'There's no love like the future love
Come with me'
Future Lovers by Madonna and Mirwais Ahmadzaï, Confessions on a Dance Floor, 2005
Our conversation was punctuated with those interludes of fingers gracefully gliding over luminescent screens for about 20 seconds at 15 minutes intervals. The more restless they became, the more the screens flickered, and fingers glided.
My stillness and pensive pose prompted one of them to ask me: 'Whats your profile?'
And I innocently answered him by listing my profile on the two social networking that we have been using for almost a decade. He shook his head dismissively and clarified his question by asking what is my profile on the 'iPhone apps'.
Well, there is none.
As I don't have an iPhone.
And instantly an outpouring of sympathy and compassion was directed at me. For I will never become part of this self-elected community of iPhone users who have distinguished themselves many times over, by their access not just to technology but the way in which we would use such technology. If the term social engineering ever sounded sinister to you, then this is one maleficent manifestation of it.
Not just social engineering. It is a reinvention of the notion of 'class' through 'technological innovation'. At the heart of it, is the 'filtering' of society by purchasing power - those who can actually afford to buy an iPhone, and it progresses to exclude those not completely attuned to the "social" application of such ingenious gadget.
I personally find the idea of poking a screen with your finger distasteful. Not to mention not completely hygenic.
But taste aside, my lack of accessibility to this technological device meant my own personal exclusion from this remarkable world that held them captive to it, unable to resist summoning their 'profiles' every 15 minutes for the fear of missing a potential mate.
One of them even had two phones, not just one.
And in this case of perpetual anticipation I found myself forced to witness it, as they checked one application after the other, exchanged tips on which application is better suited to the taste of the other, which application works best in Cairo and so on and so on.
While I sat there next to my less 'smart' phone, silent and alienated.
Scenes from the film Gattaca 1997, kept coming to my mind, in the (not-so-distant) future people will be able to selectively take out parts of their DNA or even introduce new traits. Only those who can afford to will be able to control the future of their offspring. It felt that only those who have access to this technology can take control of their 'social profile' and how they 'connect' to others and what kind of relationships they are able to have.
In a hyper-connected world, with complex gadgets and an irrational state of consumerism the notions of 'socialization' and 'relationships' become painfully problematic.
'The world at your finger tips' is one thing, but the world and its 'inhabitants' as well, is one form of illusion I don't think I can deal with very well.
But what is at the heart of this emancipated sense of control and connectivity? And what does it mean for an oppressed community like ours in Cairo?
It reinforces the notion of 'social distinction' through crude consumerism and access to technology. And this is not the rant of a broke queen whining about not being able to buy an iPhone. It terms of poverty and financial means they are many who live in the slums and walk around with iPhones. This is not where the problem lies.
The problem is this certain aptness and 'skill' in knowing how to "creatively" expand one's social capital via these technologies and their use. And not only expand but advance as well.
For the flimsy gay community in Cairo, the impact of such 'innovations' is perhaps to isolate further any chance of inter-connectivity. Or worse reinforce any existent biases and social restrictions.
One can argue that Facebook has been doing a wonderful job in democratizing these social processes and that is true to a great extent. But there is one thing that Facebook can not democratize, and that is Grindr. Or Growlr. Or Scruff.
It can not democratize any of those.
The anxiety it created in me, is not the anxiety of financial means, but the anxiety of a specific use of a certain technological device that has become a social gateway for an immediate way of getting to know people or 'hooking up'. Not that there are many users on Grindr anyway. But to add one more item to the list of things one must do to be able to find interesting potential dates or friends, makes one a little bit more than paranoid or obsessed.
But this is the future. The hyper-connected, super-transient and ephemeral social reality that we are part of. Where everything feels like one big commercial, and everyone is posing like they are trying to sell you something.
Madonna had it right all along.
'There's no love like the future love
Come with me'
Future Lovers by Madonna and Mirwais Ahmadzaï, Confessions on a Dance Floor, 2005
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