Have large numbers of Australians left Facebook? It seems not

I am currently working on analysing interviews from my newest research project ‘Facebook and Trust’. This project was designed in response to the huge publicity given to the Facebook/Cambridge Analytica scandal in March this year. I was interested in investigating how Australian Facebook users were using the platform in the wake of the scandal and what their feelings were about how Facebook make use of the personal information that is uploaded.

Following the scandal, numerous news reports claimed that large numbers of Australians were deleting their Facebook accounts as part of the #DeleteFacebook trend. As one report contended,

Many Australians are for the first time discovering just how much Facebook knows about them and many are shocked, leading them to quit the platform.

A Pew survey of US adults conducted soon after Cambridge Analytica found that around a quarter of respondents had deleted the Facebook app from their phone in the past 12 months, and more than half had adjusted their privacy settings  The survey did not ask directly about why the respondents had taken these measures, and as the time-frame related to the past year there may have been other reasons that these respondents had taken these actions (for example, different controversies over ‘fake news’ or poor content moderation on Facebook that have also received high levels of news media publicity).

Indeed, it is interesting to compare these findings with a previous Pew survey undertaken at the end of 2012, in which over two-thirds of the respondents who were current Facebook users said that they had sometimes voluntarily taken a break from using the platform and one-fifth who said they were not current Facebook users had used the platform at one time but had stopped using it. Those who had taken an extended break or had stopped using Facebook referred to reasons such as not wanting to expend too much time on the platform or finding the content overly personal, trivial or boring. As this survey suggests, some Facebook users have long had ambivalent feelings about using the platform.

There are no reliable statistics that I can find on how many Australians have deleted their Facebook account post-Cambridge Analytica. According to the Social Media Statistics Australia website, which provides a monthly report on Australians’ use of social media, in September 2018 approximately 60% of Australians (across the total population, including children) were active Facebook users, and 50% of Australians were logging on once a day. A similar proportion of Australians were regular YouTube users: both platforms had 15 million active monthly users. Next in order of popularity were Instagram (9 million users per month), Snapchat (6.4 million), WhatsApp (6 million), Twitter (4.7 million), LinkedIn (4.5 million) and Tumblr (3.7 million).

In terms of age breakdown, the site reports that in September 2018, Australians aged 25 to 39 years were the largest group of Facebook users (6.1 million), followed by those aged 40 to 55 (4.1 million), 18 to 25 (3.5 million), 55 to 64 (1.6 million) and 65 years and over (1.2 million). Less than a million of Australians aged 13 to 17 years used Facebook,

I compared the report for February 2018 (the month before the Cambridge Analytica scandal was publicised) and May 2018 (soon after the scandal) with the figures for September 2018. The website reports that in both February and May 2018, there were 15 million monthly active Australian users, just as there were for September 2018. So if large numbers of Australians have deleted their accounts, this is not showing up in these data.

The interviews I am currently analysing should cast some light on how Australian Facebook users have responded (if at all) to the Cambridge Analytica scandal and other privacy-related issues concerning the personal information they upload to Facebook. I’ll provide an update on the findings once I finish working through the interviews.

Personal data metaphors and imagery

I am currently completing my new book, with the working title of Data Selves, to be published by Polity. Here is an excerpt from a chapter that looks at personal data materialisations.

We have to work hard to find figures of speech and ways of thinking to encapsulate the ontology of digital data. The concept of digital data, a first glance, appears to describe a wholly immaterial phenomenon that does not engage the senses: there seems to be nothing to look at, touch, hear, smell or taste. The metaphors and other figures of language employed to describe digital data are attempts to conceptualise and make sense of these novel forms of information and their ontologies. Even as digital technologies continue to generate and process detailed information about people’s bodies, social relationships, emotions, practices and preferences, prevailing discourses on these data tend to de-personalise and de-humanise them. The use of the term ‘data’ to describe these details signals a way of viewing and treating them, presenting these aspects as raw materials, ripe for processing and exploitation to make them give up their meaning (Räsänen and Nyce 2013; Gitelman and Jackson 2013). Once they have become defined and labelled as ‘data’, these details about people’s lives tend to be imagined as impersonal, scientific and neutral. They have been extracted from their embodied, sensory and affective contexts, rendered into digitised formats and viewed as material for research, management or commercial purposes.

The term ‘data’ is closely associated with ‘information’. Information as a term is subject to a wide range of (often debated) definitions in the academic literature. It usually involves the assumption that there are structures, correlations and patterns involved in the organisation and communication of meaning. Information tends to be imbued with the pragmatic meanings of rational thought-processes and material that can contribute to acquiring and using knowledge. It has use and value based on these attributes (Buckland 1991). Digital data, as forms of information that have been collected and processed using digital technologies, are often portrayed as more accurate and insightful than many other information sources (Lupton 2015; Kitchin 2014). Many references to big data represent it as anonymised massive collections of details that are valuable commodities, open to profitable exploitation. The World Economic Forum’s report (2011) describing big data as ‘the new oil’, ‘a valuable resource of the 21st century’ and a ‘new asset class’ is an influential example of this metaphor.

Metaphors of fluidities also tend to be employed when describing digital data. Digital data are popularly imagined to stream, flow and circulate in the ephemeral digital data economy, emitting imperceptibly from digital devices, flying through the air to lodge in and move between computing clouds as if comprised of vaporised water. Many metaphors of digital data use words and phrases that denote overwhelming power and mobilities, again often referring to large bodies of uncontrollable water; the data ‘deluge’, ‘flood’, ‘ocean’ and even ‘tsunami’ that constantly appear in popular accounts of big data in particular. These figures of speech are used to denote feelings of being overwhelmed by large, powerful masses of data (‘big data’) that appear to be difficult to control or make sense of in their volume. Still other metaphors represent data as ‘exhaust’, ‘trails’ or ‘breadcrumbs’, denoting the by-products of other interactions on digital networks. These metaphors suggest a tangible, perceivable form of digital data, albeit tiny, that require effort to discern and give up their value (Lupton 2015).

The terms ‘clean’ and ‘dirty’ have long been used in descriptions of data, however these data are generated. These terms refer to the degree to which the data can be used for analysis: clean data are ready for use, dirty data sets require further processing because they are incomplete, outdated, incorrect or obsolete. Portrayals of the affordances of digital data on the body/self, in their emphasis on objectivity and neutrality – or what might be described as their ‘cleanliness’ – denote a view of information about oneself that privileges such ‘clean’ data over what might be contrasted as the ‘dirty’ data that the body produces from sensual experience. Human cognition, memory, perception and sensation are ‘weak’ because they are ‘unscientific’. They are borne of fallible fleshly embodiment rather than the neutral, objective data that are generated by computer software and hardware.

Data have also been referred to as ‘raw’, suggesting that they are materials that are untouched by culture. It is assumed that by working on ‘raw’ data, data scientists transform these materials into useable commodities. Part of this transformation may involve ‘cleaning’ ‘dirty data’. Boellstofff (2013) uses the term ‘rotted data’ to describe the ways in which the materiality of data can degrade (for example, damaged hard drives that store data), but also how data can be transformed in unplanned or accidental ways that do not follow algorithmic prescriptions. Here again, these metaphors of ‘raw’, ‘cooked’ and ‘rotted’ draw attention the materiality of data and the processing, deterioration and recuperation that are part of human-data assemblages.

In her essay on digital data, Melissa Gregg (2015) employs a number of other metaphors that she devised to encapsulate the meanings of data. Data ‘agents’ suggests the capacities of data to work with algorithms to generate connections: matches, suggestions and relationships between social phenomena that otherwise would not be created. Gregg gives the examples of recommendation sites and online dating services, which connect strangers and their experiences with each other in ways that were previously unimaginable. She goes on to suggest that ‘In these instances, data acts [sic] rather more like our appendage, our publicist, even our shadow’ (Gregg 2015). Gregg also employs the metaphor of data ‘sweat’ (another liquid metaphor) in the attempt to emphasise the embodied nature of data, emerging or leaking from within the body to the outside in an uncontrolled manner to convey information about that body, including how hard it is working or how productive it is. Data ‘sweat’, therefore, can be viewed as a materialisation of labour. She then suggests the concept of data ‘trash’ (similar to the ‘exhaust’ metaphor mentioned above). Data ‘trash’ is data that is in some way useless or potentially polluting or hazardous: Gregg links this metaphor with the environmental effects generated by creating, storing and processing data in data centres. Both the metaphors of data ‘sweat’ and ‘trash’ suggest the materiality of digitised information as well as its ambivalent and dynamic status as it moves between ascriptions of high value and useless or even disgusting by-product.

An analysis of images used to represent big data in online editions of The New York Times and The Washington Post (Pentzold et al. 2018) found that they tended to fall into several categories in the attempt to visually represent big data: using large-scale numbers, interpretive abstract renditions, showing numbers or graphs on smartphone or computer screens, images of data warehouses and devices that generate data, robots, datafied individuals and meteorological imagery such as clouds. A dominant visual image involved photographic images of people working in the big data industry, such as data scientists, ‘nerds’ and ‘geeks’ (overwhelmingly male) and logos of internet companies. These images served as visual surrogates to represent the immateriality of big data. The researchers compared these images with those found on a general Google image search for ‘big data’ and also on Wikipedia and the image platforms Fotolia, Flickr and Pinterest. They noted that the images they found on these platforms were very homogeneous, featuring the colour blue, the words ‘big data’ written large, binary numbers, network structures and surveillant human eyes. These kinds of descriptions suggest that big datasets (including those drawn from people’s lives and experiences) are natural resources that are unproblematically open to exploration, mining and processing for profit. The personal details about people contained within these massive datasets are reimagined as commodities or research material. It is telling that the human elements of these images largely include men working in data analytics rather than the range of people who generate data or who may make use of their own data as part of their everyday lives.

In these types of portrayals, the status of personal data as human, or at least partly human entities is submerged in the excitement about how best to exploit these details as material commodities. Their liveliness is represented in ways that suggest their economic potential as nonhuman organic materials (streams, flows, oil, clouds, breadcrumbs). Yet conversely, another dominant discourse about personal data, which is particularly promulgated by the data profiling industry and civil society privacy advocates, is that these details are all-too-human or even excessively human: intensely intimate and revealing of people’s uniquely human characteristics. Proponents of the ‘Internet of Me’ make claims such as:

Now imagine tech working in your body at the biological level. Your body could express itself on its own, without you having to be in charge, to deliver more happiness, better health, whatever you truly need and want.

These sociotechnical imaginaries position devices and data as working together with human bodies in ways that devolve agency to the device. ‘You’ no longer have to be ‘in charge’ – instead, the device takes over. Other imaginaries around the Internet of Me configure the idea of personal cloud computing, in which all people’s personal data go to a centralised cloud computing repository where they will be able to access all their data.

When I performed my own Google image search using the term ‘personal data’, the images that were returned by the search again featured the colour blue, male figures and binary numbers. Notably, several images showed a pen and a paper form with the words ‘personal information’ at the top, perhaps as an attempt to respond to the immateriality of digitised information by rendering it in analogue forms with which many people would be familiar. Images using locks and keys as metaphors were also dominant, suggesting the value of personal data but also how closed they are to people who may want to make use of them. When I used the search term ‘personal data privacy’, new images were introduced in addition to those appearing under ‘personal data’. These included images of spy-like or Big Brother surveillance figures and also images showing human hands protectively attempting to cover computer keyboards or screens, as if to elude the gaze of these spying figures as people used their devices.

One online article on the Internet of Me features an image in which a human body is comprised of many different social media and other internet platform icons as well as coloured dots representing other data sources. Instead of an assemblage of flesh-bone-blood, the body is completely datafied and networked. The interesting thing is that this body is represented as an autonomous agent. The networks that generate data and keep the body vibrant and functioning are internal, not externalised to networks outside this socially alienated body. Data flows are contained within elements of the body rather than leaking outside it to other bodies. This suggests an imaginary in which the Internet of Me is neatly contained within the envelope of the body/self and thus able to control ingress and egress. This is an orderly closed system, one that confounds both utopian and dystopian imaginaries concerning the possibilities and risks of one’s body/self being sited as just one node in vast and complex networked digital system.

In contrast, a series of 2018 British advertisements for the BBH London & Experian data analytics company used the ‘data self’ concept in an attempt to humanise data profiling and emphasise the similarities of these profiles to the people from whom they are generated. Six versions of this ad featured photographs of comedian Marcus Brigstoke and his ‘data self’, a person who looked exactly like him. As one of the ads, headlined ‘Meet your Data Self’ claimed: ‘Your Data Self is the version of you that companies see when you apply for things like credit cards, loans and mortgages. You two should get acquainted’. One of the ads, headlined, ‘What shape is your Data Self in?’, showed the comedian looking at his doppelganger lifting a heavy barbell. The copy read ‘If your Data Self looks good to lenders, you’re more likely to be approved for credit. That’s a weight off. Get to know your Data Self at Experian.com.uk.’ Another ad asked ‘Is your Data Self making the right impression?’, depicting the comedian, dressed in casual clothes, shaking hands with his more formally dressed (in suit and tie) data self.  Notably, this person and his ‘data self’ was a white, youngish man, excluding representatives from other social groups.

The ontological status of personal data, therefore, constantly shifts in popular representations between human and nonhuman, valuable commodity and waste matter, nature and culture, productive and dangerous. In both modes of representation, the vibrancies of digital data – their ceaseless production, movements, leakages – are considered to be both exciting and full of potential but also as dangerous and risky. Personal data assemblages are difficult to control or exploit by virtue of their liveliness.

References

Boellstorff, T. (2013). Making big data, in theory. First Monday, 18(10).

Buckland, M. K. (1991). Information as thing. Journal of the American Society for Information Science, 42(5), 351.

Gitelman, L., & Jackson, V. (2013). Introduction. In L. Gitelman (Ed.), Raw Data is an Oxymoron (pp. 1-14). Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Gregg, M. (2015). The gift that is not given. In T. Boellstorff, & B. Maurer (Eds.), Data, Now Bigger and Better! (pp. 47-66). Chicago: Prickly Paradigm.

Kitchin, R. (2014). The Data Revolution: Big Data, Open Data, Data Infrastructures and Their Consequences. London: Sage.

Lupton, D. (2015). Digital Sociology. London: Routledge.

Pentzold, C., Brantner, C., & Fölsche, L. (2018). Imagining big data: Illustrations of “big data” in US news articles, 2010–2016. New Media & Society, online first.

Räsänen, M., & Nyce, J. M. (2013). The raw is cooked: data in intelligence practice. Science, Technology & Human Values, 38(5), 655-677.

World Economic Forum (2011). Personal Data: The Emergence of a New Asset Class. World Economic Forum.

 

Findings from the Young Australians and Digital Health Project

Digital technologies for health-related topics and practices such as websites, online discussion forums, social media, content-sharing platforms, mobile apps and wearable devices are now available as a means for young people to learn about and promote their health, physical fitness and wellbeing. Young people are often assumed to be ardent users of digital health technologies by virtue of having been born into the age of new digital media. Thus far, however, few social research studies have directed attention to the details of how and why young people use digital technologies for health-related purposes and how other, non-digital sources also contribute to the ways in which they learn about their bodies and health and engage in practices to support their health and wellbeing.

The Young Australians and Digital Health Project, a qualitative interview-based study of 30 young Australians (aged 16 to 25 years) was designed to address these issues. The participants were recruited to ensure equal numbers of female and male participants and a spread of ages, ethnic backgrounds and geographical locations across Australia. The interviews took place in April-May 2018. Participants were asked a series of questions relating to how and why they sourced health and medical information and support, and which of these they found most and least useful and helpful. They were asked if anyone had recommended that they use digital health technologies and whether they had any concerns about their personal health data privacy and security. The final question had a future-oriented perspective, asking participants to imagine and describe an ideal digital health technology for their everyday needs.

The interview questions and analysis of transcripts of participants’ responses were designed to draw attention to the affordances of the actors involved (human and nonhuman), relational connections between these actors, affective forces and agential capacities. The affordances of fleshly human bodies include their sensory perceptions, emotional responsiveness, embodied expertise, memory and the ability to learn and to move in certain ways. The affordances of nonhuman objects such as digital technologies relate to the design features of these technologies and what they potentially allow people to do with them. Relational connections include the ways in which humans interact with and respond to other humans, as well as with nonhumans, and how these relationships contribute to or generate bonds and affects.

As the table below shows, all participants said that they sought information from doctors and other healthcare providers, and most also turned to advice from friends and family members. Very few young people used books for health information, but pamphlets were still read by around a third of participants (usually picked up in doctors’ surgeries while waiting for a consultation). In terms of digital tools and resources, search engines were used by everyone, with health websites a close second. All the participants said that they were routinely online throughout the day and were accustomed to searching the internet as a habitual practice for various purposes. They generally searched between once or twice a week or once a month for health-related topics.

Youtube, online discussion groups and social media groups were fairly well-used, but by less than half of the participants. Participants noted that these sources were often found from an initial search using Google Search. Only five of the 30 participants said that they had signed up to My Health Record (Australia’s nationwide patient electronic medical record), with the remainder noting that they had not heard of it.

Sources of health and medical information used currently

SOURCES

 

Number of respondents (n=30)
Non-digital sources  
doctors and other health care providers 30
friends and family 21
pamphlets 11
books   5
Digital sources  
search engines 30
health websites 26
YouTube 13
online discussion forums 12
wearable devices 12
social media groups 10
apps   9
digital exercise games (e.g. Wii Fit)   8
electronic medical record (My Health Record)   5
physical activity platforms (e.g. Strava)   6

 

The convenience, accessibility and detail and diversity of information offered by digital media and devices were valued by the participants.

So I would initially just google my query and do a little bit of research on my own but then I would take my problems to a doctor and they would have more detail and more answers for me. I would usually just look up, kind of, symptoms and triggers for certain things. I would mainly just look up information, possibly finding a solution on my own. I like going online for the ease of use, ease of access, variety of information available, all that kind of stuff. (male, 24 years)

The young people also appreciated being able to source others’ personal experiences online by using online discussion forums, social media groups and viewing people’s stories on YouTube. They felt connected to the physically distant others they encountered online through their sharing of experiences and affective responses on these platforms.

Well, probably I just read forums to find information on the forums, the one thing I find useful is that they have allowed people to express their own feelings with different kinds of diseases. And I find that if it relates to me, then I guess it doesn’t make me feel so alone – knowing that what I’m going through, someone else is going through it with it. (male, 24 years)

Apps and wearable devices (mostly Fitbits) were used for mental health and wellbeing and booking medical appointments, as well as for self-tracking sleep, heart rate, steps and other physical activities, and menstrual cycles. Digital exercise games such as Wii Fit and physical activity platforms like Strava were the least used of all the technologies listed. Few participants who did use them did so regularly, with several participants noting that exercise games were too time-consuming to set up.

Doctors were highly valued as the pre-eminent source of health information authority because of their training and expertise. Young people noted that it could be difficult to distinguish between different opinions and details about health and illness expressed online, requiring them to assess which sources were most valid and reliable. By comparison, a doctor’s expertise was individualised to patients’ specific needs and they could offer knowledgeable interpretations based on their training. Young people could then defer to this expertise.

I guess online there’s a lot of different opinions on what something – like, if you think you’ve got a cold or something like that then you go online and I guess you’re not really qualified yourself to go, this is actually what symptoms I’m experiencing and this is what it actually is. Whereas I feel like if you go to a doctor they’re able to pinpoint it quite well. (female, 22 years)

The participants highly valued the capacity of digital technologies to generate detailed information about their bodies and health states and imagined new technologies that would be able to achieve even more detailed personalisation and customisation. However, they expressed little knowledge or concern about how their personal health data may be exploited by other actors or agencies, despite the fact that the interviews took place a matter of weeks after the Facebook/Cambridge Analytics personal data scandal. Several participants said that they had noticed that companies like Facebook and Google were monitoring their online searches and content for advertising purposes, but these practices were accepted as the norm for online engagement.

Obviously, Google, because they’re finding ways to link to merchandise, or that’s what I believe, personally.  If I look up fitness they’ll say, “Oh look at this fitness gear; why don’t you buy it?” I think it’s just society today – I can’t really stop it. (female, 18 years)

The participants’ accounts highlight the importance to this demographic group of the relational and affective dimensions of seeking health-related advice and information. While all the participants went online routinely and regularly to find advice and information, particularly because the internet affords convenience, ready access and a wealth of diverse opinions, it was evident that their connections and relationships with other people, both face-to-face and digitally mediated, were very important. Other key affordances offered by digital technologies included offering material that could be viewed anonymously and unobtrusively.

Feeling understood by and connected to other people was an agential capacity generated through various combinations of humans with each other and with technologies. The ideal digital health technologies that were imagined by the participants also evoked the affordances of convenience and accessibility. These imaginaries also suggested the importance to young people of technologies that could ‘know’ and ‘understand’ them better than those they had already tried.

In summary, these findings highlight that gaining a better knowledge of bodies, illness and healthcare and feeling more in control of health and wellbeing states were important to the young people. They valued face-to-face as well as online relationships and personal connections with other people for providing information and support, including family members and friends as well as medical professionals.

These were the vibrancies that animated the participants’ enactments of seeking and finding health information and support, that kept them googling, reading the content of websites, social media platforms and online forums, watching videos and using apps and wearable devices. While the young people’s consumption of this content may overtly appear to be passive, given that they tended to view rather than create online content, the young people were actively making sense of the material they were accessing and gathering, deciding how relevant or valid it was for their needs, how they would respond to it and whether they needed to seek further advice from doctors or others.

 

 

 

Digital health promotion: possibilities and limitations

 

Pinterest health

Health and fitness content on Pinterest

 

On Tuesday I am giving an invited presentation at an event organised by VicHealth on the theme of ‘Harnessing the Power of Digital Technologies’. Some of the issues I’ll be focusing on include covering the different ways in which digital devices and software are used for health promotion, and what the social issues are. I’ll be drawing on my recent and current research projects looking at the social aspects of how people use digital health and self-tracking technologies (see my blog post summarising the findings of these projects here).

The critical sociological approach I’ll be advancing is discussed in a range of my publications over the past few years. The most recent of these publications include my book Digital Health: Critical and Cross-Disciplinary Perspectives, a chapter on wearable devices (available OA here), an article on what health professionals and healthcare consumers see as valuable about digital health and what its future may be (available OA here), a special journal issue I edited on self-tracking, health and medicine (the editorial for this is OA here) and an article reporting my research project on the use of social media by healthcare workers (available OA here).

Here are some of the points I’ll be making in my talk:

Among public health and health promotion professionals, social media campaigns and dedicated websites are popular forms of communicating with target groups. These approaches often take an individualistic and to-down approach, using old-style paternalistic health education and social marketing models of behaviour change and applying them to the new media contexts. They often fail to recognise that people are spontaneously and actively searching for information about health and medicine on the internet and using social media and apps to generate and share this information.

Health promotion professionals are competing for consumer engagement with a digital health ecosystem in which the commercial/corporate sector offers a far more compelling range of products. It was estimated last year that there are over 325,000 health and medical apps available on the major app stores. Social media are now a key site for the dissemination of health-related news and information. People use Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter and Pinterest to access and share information about health, medical care and physical fitness. A large range of blogs and discussion forums have been established for people to have a say on health-related matters and respond to others. Wearable devices like Fitbit and Apple Watch provide opportunities for people to monitor and measure their health and fitness levels.

Visual media have become important in people’s engagements online, including selfies, memes, GIFs and videos. YouTube offers countless videos made by consumers about their health and fitness experiences and insights. ‘Healthy lifestyle’ influencers on platforms like Instagram and YouTube have a huge reach and impact, particularly for young people. Hashtags like #fitspo, #cleaneating, #fitnessaddict, #iquitsugar, #wellness and #weightlossjourney are used to organise content and attract like-minded audiences. Communities that challenge mainstream health promotion messages and seek to promote resistant modes of embodiment use hashtags like #badfatty, #thinspo, #proana, #selfinjury and #blithe (used for content about self-harm, eating disorders and depression), particularly on Tumblr.

My research on how public health professionals use social media found that they recognised that these communication channels were important for consumer engagement and also found them beneficial to connect with other professionals working in their fields. However, they experienced many constraints such as lack of institutional knowledge about how best to use social media, rules about not using social media in the workplace, lack of access to the internet, or peers disapproving of social media. If they were working in a contentious or sensitive area of public health, these professionals had to consider the possibility of being attacked by members of the public on social media, or inadvertently saying the wrong thing publicly.

There is a need for a social perspective on digitised health promotion. The different ways in which social groups use and respond to digitised health promotion need to be considered (for example, attributes such as gender, age, social class, education level, ethnic/racial background, health status and geographical location). My research identifies several key differences between the different groups I have included. For example, women with young children use Facebook a lot for sharing information about pregnancy and childcare and to arrange in-person meetings. Young people, on the other hand, prefer YouTube, Instagram and Snapchat to access and share health information. My project on self-tracking cyclists found that they loved to use platforms like Strava to share their data and compete with and provide support to each other. In contrast, my project on everyday self-trackers, who monitored a range of attributes about their bodies and lives, and another of my projects on women’s use of digital health technologies, found that very few were interested in sharing their data with others beyond family members or their doctors.

Personal data privacy and security are important issues when discussing how digital technologies can be used for health promotion. Across my research projects, there was very little awareness of or concern about how internet companies and app developers collect, use and share people’s often very sensitive health-related information when they engage with these technologies. This included public health professionals, who were not considering these issues in relation to their work-related activities.

Second edition of my book Fat out soon

I have revised and significantly expanded my book Fat (it is now double the length) for its second edition, due to be published mid-year. The book now includes much more material on new digital media and devices, and how they are used to contain, control and portray fat embodiment (often in very negative ways).

Here’s an excerpt from new material I have added to my chapter addressing the transgressive fat body, focusing on memes, GIFs and stock images.

My Google search for ‘fat memes’ found memes that not only stigmatize fat bodies, but are blatantly abusive and often cruel. Just some examples I came across include unflattering images of fat people with texts such as ‘I’m fat because obesity runs in my family. No-one runs in your family’, ‘I’m lazy because I’m fat and I’m fat because I’m lazy’ and ‘Sometimes when I’m sad I like to cut myself … another slice of cheesecake’. When I looked for ‘fat’ GIFs on the GIFY platform, here again were many negative portrayals of fat people, including cartoon characters like Homer Simpson as well as real people, again engaging in humiliating bodily performances. Many of these GIFs showed people jiggling their abdomens or dancing to demonstrate the magnitude of their flesh, belly flopping into swimming pools, eating greedily, smeared with food and so on. Here again, fat white men predominated as targets of ridicule.

Many companies now offer stock images for others to use to illustrate news articles, blog posts or reports. Searching for stock images online for ‘fat people eating’ returns a series of photographs and drawings that invariably depict the types of food consumed by fat people as archetypal high-calorie, fat-laden or fast food. Fat women, men and children are shown biting into or gazing at foods such as hamburgers, pizzas, French fries, fried chicken or cream cake, often with a look of greed on their faces and reclining on an over-stuffed armchair or sofa. Some of these people are scantily dressed or wearing clothes that reveal their large stomachs. One image even transposes a fat man with a hamburger, so that his body becomes the hamburger, topped with his head. Another depicts a hamburger as a hungry beast with a gaping maw consuming a man so that all that can be seen of his body is his legs. Some people are shown with links of sausages around their necks. The words used to describe these images are telling, as in these descriptions: ‘photo of a fat couch potato eating a huge hamburger and watching television’, ‘overweight woman greedily biting sweet cake’.

These types of images emphasize the enticements offered by foodstuff that are portrayed in popular and medical cultures as ‘unhealthy’ and ‘fattening’, pandering to greed and self-indulgence. These foods are depicted in some extreme cases as overwhelming human bodies, both in terms of expanding the size of bodies (and particularly of bellies) and in rendering humans helpless and devoured by their lust for these foods. It is as if these foods are controlling humans through the intensity of people’s desire to consume (and be consumed by) them.

Similar sentiments and images can be found in memes about food, regardless of whether the people represented in them are fat or not. These memes often display a high level of ambivalence about experiencing the desire for the ‘wrong’ foods, the pleasure of eating them and the guilt or self-hatred that may result from indulgence. Such food memes may depict large helpings of ‘junk’ foods with people viewing them with hungry expressions. Others dispense with any images of food itself, and simply show people looking eager or happy, and words such as ‘When people ask when I want to eat. Every day. All day. Anywhere. Anytime’, or ‘I’m on a seafood diet. I see food and eat it.’ Animals (especially cats) are used to stand in for people, as in the meme showing a cat desperately clawing its way through a venetian blind and the words, ‘Did somebody say food?’, and another featuring a close-up of a cat with its mouth stuffed with food, captioned ‘I regret nothing. Nothing.’ In these memes, whether or not food is shown, the dominant feelings that are expressed are the insatiable longing for food and the lack of control people have over their appetites, to the point that they are overwhelming.

My 2017 publications

Books

Lupton, D. (2017) Digital Health: Critical and Cross-Disciplinary Perspectives. London: Routledge.

Lupton, D., Mewburn, I. and Thomson, P. (eds) (2017) The Digital Academic: Critical Perspectives on Digital Technologies in Higher Education. London: Routledge.

Lupton, D. (editor) (2017) Self-Tracking, Health and Medicine: Sociological Perspectives. London: Routledge.

Special journal issues edited

‘Health, medicine and self-tracking’, Health Sociology Review (volume 26, issue 1), 2017 (also published as a book)

‘Digital media and body weight’, Fat Studies (volume 6, issue 2), 2017

‘The senses and digital health’, Digital Health (volume 3), 2017

Book chapters

Lupton, D. (2017) 3D printed self replicas: personal digital data made solid. In McGillivray, D, Carnicelli, S. and McPherson, G. (eds), Digital Leisure Cultures: Critical Perspectives. London: Routledge, pp. 26—38. (PDF Lupton 2017 3D self-replicas chapter).

Gard, M. and Lupton, D. (2017) Digital health goes to school: digitising children’s bodies in health and physical education. In Taylor, E. and Rooney, T. (eds), Surveillance Futures: Social and Ethical Implications of New Technologies for Children and Young People. London: Routledge, pp. 36—49. (PDF Gard Lupton 2017 digital health goes to school chapter)

Lupton, D. (2017) Digital bodies. In Silke, M., Andrews, D. and Thorpe, H. (eds), The Routledge Handbook of Physical Cultural Studies. London: Routledge, pp. 200—208. (PDF Lupton 2017 digital bodies chapter)

Lupton, D. (2017) Personal data practices in the age of lively data. In Daniels, J., Gregory, K. and McMillan Cottom, T. (eds), Digital Sociologies. London: Policy Press, 335—350. (PDF Lupton 2017 personal data practices in the age of lively data chapter)

Lupton, D., Mewburn, I. and Thomson, P. (2017) The digital academic: identities, contexts and politics. In Lupton, D., Mewburn, I. and Thomson, P. (eds), The Digital Academic: Critical Perspectives on Digital Technologies in Higher Education. London: Routledge, 1-19. (PDF Lupton Mewburn Thomson 2017 digital academic chapter)

Lupton, D. (2017) Cooking, eating, uploading: digital food cultures. In LeBesco, K. and Naccarato, P. (eds), The Handbook of Food and Popular Culture. London: Bloomsbury. (PDF Lupton 2017 cooking eating uploading chapter)

Journal articles

Lupton, D. and Williamson, B. (2017) The datafied child: the dataveillance of children and implications for their rights. New Media & Society, 19(5), 780—794.

Pink, S., Sumartojo, S., Lupton, D. and Heyes Labond, C. (2017) Mundane data: the routines, contingencies and accomplishments of digital living. Big Data & Society, 4(1), online, available at http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/2053951717700924

Thomas, G., Lupton, D. and Pedersen, S. (2017) ‘The appy for a happy pappy’: expectant fatherhood and pregnancy apps. Journal of Gender Studies, online ahead of print: doi:10.1080/09589236.2017.1301813

Lupton, D. (2017) How does digital health feel? Towards research on the affective atmospheres of digital health technologies. Digital Health, 3, online, available at http://journals.sagepub.com/eprint/ZCuMrRHMP3RsH9Z8f9v7/full

Lupton, D. and Michael, M. (2017) For me, the biggest benefit is being ahead of the game’: the use of social media in health work. Social Media + Society, 3(2), online, available at http://dx.doi.org/10.1177/2056305117702541

Lupton, D. (2017) Digital media and body weight, shape and size: an introduction and review. Fat Studies, 6(2), 119-134.

Lupton, D. and Michael, M. (2017) ‘Depends on who’s got the data’: public understandings of personal digital dataveillance. Surveillance and Society, 15(2), 254—268.

Lupton, D. (2017) ‘It just gives me a bit of peace of mind’: Australian women’s use of digital media for pregnancy and early motherhood. Societies, 7(3), online, available at http://www.mdpi.com/2075-4698/7/3/25/htm

Lupton, D. and Maslen, S. (2017) Telemedicine and the senses: a review. Sociology of Health & Illness, 39(8), 1557-1571.

Lupton, D. (2017) Feeling your data: touch and making sense of personal digital data. New Media & Society, 19(10), 1599-1614.

Lupton, D. (2017) ‘Download to delicious’: promissory themes and sociotechnical imaginaries in coverage of 3D printed food in online news sources. Futures, 93, 44-53.

Lupton, D. (2017) Towards design sociology. Sociology Compass, online ahead of print: doi:10.1111/soc4.12546

Lupton, D. (2017) Digital health now and in the future: findings from a participatory design stakeholder workshop. Digital Health, 3, online, available at http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/2055207617740018

Pink, S., Sumartojo, S., Lupton, D. and Heyes Labond, C. (2017) Empathetic technologies: digital materiality and video ethnography. Visual Studies, 32(4), 371-381.

Editorials

Lupton, D. (2017) Towards sensory studies of digital health. Digital Health, 3, online, available at http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/2055207617740090

Lupton, D. (2017) Self-tracking, health and medicine. Health Sociology Review, 26(1), 1—5.

Talks in Europe, November 2017

I am visiting Europe to give several talks in early November. Details are as follows:

Wednesday 1 November: Keynote presentation at the ‘Emotion and Affect in Dataified Worlds’ workshop, Helsinki, Finland.

Friday 3 November: Opening presentation with our Wellcome Trust grant research team at the ‘Researching Young People and Digital Health Technologies’ symposium we have organised, Manchester, UK (details here).

Monday 6 November:  Invited public lecture at the ‘Digital Health’ workshop, Malmo, Sweden.

Tuesday 7 November: Invited presentation at the ‘Challenges of Digital Health’ workshop, Orebro, Sweden.

Friday 10 November: Keynote at the ‘Monitoring the Self: Negotiating Technologies of Health, Identity and Governance’ conference, Helsinki, Finland (details here).

Food porn, fitspo, bonespo and epic food feats: bodies and food in digital media

 

I have just finished a book chapter for a edited collection on alternative food politics. The chapter is entitled ‘Vitalities and visceralities: alternative body/food politics in new digital media’ (the full chapter preprint is available here).

In the chapter, I focus on the ways in which human bodies and food consumption are represented in social media platforms like Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, YouTube and Instagram using visual media such as selfies, videos, memes and GIFs, and organised with the use of hashtags. Once I began searching for this material online (using search terms like ‘fat memes’, ‘food porn’, ‘food GIFs’, ‘fitspo’, ‘vegetarian’ and ‘pro ana’), the strength of emotions expressed about bodies and food was particularly noticeable.

Bodies and food in digital portrayals express and circulate visceral feelings that are often dark, centring around broader ambivalences concerning human and nonhuman corporeality. For example, disgust and repulsion for food that is not ‘clean’ or is high in calories and for fat bodies that are considered to be undisciplined was a key theme. This reached its apotheosis in images and discussions relating to self-starvation practices, in which food consumption of any kind was portrayed as contaminating the ideal of the extremely thin body.

A contrasting portrayal, however, was that of the transgressive pleasures of excessive food consumption, often as resistance to body shaming and food policing. In the digital media I examined, vegetarians and vegans were often positively portrayed for their ethical and healthy food stance, but also derided as bores and moralisers. The promotion of fleshiness and excessive food consumption was found in fat activist and body positivist digital media, but also in the grotesque feats of cooking and eating dude food performed by the ‘Epic Meal Time’ men and food-related GIFs and memes.

Food consumption in these media was often sexualised. People uploading or sharing ‘fitspo’ images idealised slim, toned bodies, both male and female, displaying their physiques in tight, revealing gym or swim wear. Supporters of the pro-anorexia ‘bonespo’ meme portrayed emaciated young women as beautiful and sexually appealing. The ‘notyourgoodfatty’ approach highlighted the sensuality and erotic appeal of both fat bodies and excessive food consumption.

More disturbingly, the ‘Epic Meal Time’ YouTube videos made frequent references to the erotic appeal of meat the suggested women were meat for the consumption of men. This misogynistic approach was even more evident in memes and GIFs about meat, in which men were portrayed as aggressors and women their prey.

I conclude the chapter by arguing that expressions of alternative food politics in new digital media are underpinned by affects that display broad and deep-seated ambivalences about what kind of food is morally and ethically justifiable and what types of bodies people should seek to achieve. In some cases, the emotional power that animate the agential capacities of these types of media can impel transformation and change in the interests of alternative food politics. In others, they express and facilitate conservative and reactionary responses, serving to reproduce and magnify dominant norms, moral meanings and practices about ideal bodies, sexuality, and gender.

Social media and self-representation in health and medical domains

Funny-Meme-about-Depression-4-300x300This is an excerpt from chapter 3 (on digitised embodiment) in my forthcoming book Digital Health: Critical and Cross-Disciplinary Perspectives, due to be published this August – details here.

It is not only medical technologies that have contributed to new forms of digitised embodiment. Many popular forums facilitate the uploading of images and other forms of bodily representations to the internet for others to view. Pregnancy, childbirth and infant development represent major topics for self-representation and image sharing on social media. Since the early years of the internet, online forums and discussion boards have provided places for parents (and particularly women) to seek information and advice about pregnancy, childbirth and parenting as well as share their own experiences. Apps can be now be used to track pregnancy stages, symptoms and appointments and document time-lapse selfies featuring the expansion of pregnant women’s ‘baby bumps’. Foetal ultrasound images are routinely posted on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube by excited expectant parents (Thomas and Lupton, 2015; Lupton and Thomas, 2015; Lupton, 2016).

Some parents continue the documentation of their new baby’s lives by sharing photographs and videos of the moment of their birth (Longhurst, 2009) and milestones (first steps, words uttered and so on) on social media. Wearable devices and monitoring apps allow parents to document their infants’ biometrics, such as their sleeping, feeding, breathing, body temperature and growth patterns (Lupton and Williamson, 2017). The genre of ‘mommy blogs’ also offers opportunities for women to upload images of themselves while pregnant and their babies and young children, as well as providing detailed descriptions of their experiences of pregnancy and motherhood (Morrison, 2011). These media provide a diverse array of forums for portraying and describing details infants’ and young children’s embodiment. A survey of 2,000 British parents’ use of social media for sharing their young children’s images conducted by an internet safety organisation estimated that the average parent would have posted almost 1,000 images to Facebook (and to a much lesser extent, Instagram) by the time their child reached five (Knowthenet 2015). Contemporary children, therefore, now often have an established digital profile before they are even born offering an archive of their physical development and growth across their lifespans.

People with medical conditions are now able to upload descriptions and images of their bodies to social media to share with the world. YouTube offers a platform for such images, but they are also shared on other social media such as Facebook, Instagram, Tumblr and Pinterest. Pinterest offers a multitude of humorous memes and images with inspirational slogans designed to provide support to people with various conditions such as chronic illness. Humorous memes include one with a drawing of a young woman sitting on a bed with her hand over her face and the words ‘Why are there never any good side effects? Just once I’d like to read a medication bottle that says, “May cause extreme sexiness”’. Other images about chronic illness are less positive, used to express people’s despair, pain or frustration in struggling with conditions such as autoimmune diseases, endometriosis and diabetes. Examples include a meme featuring a photo of a person with head bowed down (face obscured) and the words ‘When your chronic illness triggers depression’ and another showing a young woman’s face transposed over an outline of her body with the text: ‘The worst thing you can do to a person with an invisible illness is make them feel like they need to prove how sick they are.’

‘Selfie’ portraits enable people to photograph themselves in various forms of embodiment. There is now a genre of selfies showing subjects experiencing ill-health or medical treatment. These include self-portraits taken by celebrities in hospital receiving treatment for injuries. A larger category of health and medical-related selfies include those that show people in a clinical or hospital setting undergoing treatment, experiencing symptoms or their recovery after surgery. Among the social media platforms available for such representation, Tumblr is favoured as a forum for posting more provocative images that challenge accepted norms of embodiment. One example is Karolyn Gehrig, who uses the #HospitalGlam hashtag when posting selfies featuring her self-identified ‘queer/disabled’ body in hospital settings. Gehrig has a chronic illness requiring regular hospital visits, and uses the selfie genre to draw attention to what it is like to live with this kind of condition. The photographs she posts of herself include portraits in hospital waiting and treatment rooms in glamour-style poses. She engages in this practice as a form of seeking agency and control in settings that many people find alienating, shaming and uncertain (Tembeck, 2016).

People who upload selfies or other images of themselves or status updates about their behaviour on social media are engaging in technologies of the self. They seek to present a certain version of self-identity to the other users of the sites as part of strategies of ethical self-formation (van Dijck, 2013; Sauter, 2014; Tembeck, 2016). In the context of the ‘like economy’ of social media (which refers to the positive responses that users receive from other users on platforms like Facebook, Twitter and Instagram) (Gerlitz and Helmond, 2013), users of these platforms are often highly aware of how they represent themselves. This may involve sharing information about a medical condition or self-tracking fitness or weight-loss data (Stragier et al., 2015) as a way of demonstrating that the person is adhering to the ideal subject position of responsibilised self-care and health promotion.

It can be difficult for users to juggle competing imperatives when sharing information about themselves online. Young women, in particular, are faced with negotiating self-representation practices on social media that conform to accepted practices of fun-loving femininity, attractive sexuality or disciplined self-control over their diet and body weight but do not stray into practices that may open them to disparagement for being ‘slutty’, fat, too drunk or otherwise lacking self-control, too vain or self-obsessed or physically unattractive (Hutton et al., 2016; Ferreday, 2003; Brown and Gregg, 2012).  It is important to acknowledge that as part of self-representation, people may also seek to use their social media forums to resist health promotion messages: by showing people enjoying using illicit drugs or alcoholic drinking to excess, for example. Fat activists have also benefited from the networking opportunities offered by blogs and social media to work against fat shaming and promote positive representations of fat bodies (Cooper, 2011; Smith et al., 2013; Dickins et al., 2011).

More controversially, those individuals who engage in proscribed body modification practices, such as self-harm, steroid use for body-building or the extreme restriction of food intake (as in ‘pro-ana’ and ‘thinspiration’ communities) also make use of social media sites to connect with likeminded individuals (Boero and Pascoe, 2012; Center for Innovative Public Health Research, 2014; Fox et al., 2005; Smith et al., 2013). Most social media platforms have polices in place to prohibit these kinds of interactions, but in practice many users manage to evade them. The platforms have a difficult task, because they want to support people’s attempts to communicate with each other about their management of and recovery from health conditions like self-harm or eating disorders but are loath to be viewed as promoting the efforts of those resisting recovery and promoting these behaviours. Their attempts to police the representation of nude human bodies for fear of contributing to pornography are also controversial. Until it changed its policy in 2014, Facebook was the subject of trenchant critique for censoring photographs that women have tried to share on the platform portraying them breastfeeding their infants because of concerns that they were showing their nipples, a body part that Facebook usually prohibits in users’ posts because they are deemed to be obscene. Facebook’s new policy also allowed mastectomy survivors to post images of their post-operative bare torsos, even when nipples were displayed (Chemaly, 2014).

References

Boero N and Pascoe CJ. (2012) Pro-anorexia communities and online interaction: bringing the pro-ana body online. Body & Society 18: 27-57.

Brown R and Gregg M. (2012) The pedagogy of regret: Facebook, binge drinking and young women. Continuum 26: 357-369.

Center for Innovative Public Health Research. (2014) Self-harm websites and teens who visit them. Available at http://innovativepublichealth.org/blog/self-harm-websites-and-teens-who-visit-them/.

Chemaly S. (2014) #FreeTheNipple: Facebook changes breastfeeding mothers photo policy. Huffpost Parents. Available at http://www.huffingtonpost.com/soraya-chemaly/freethenipple-facebook-changes_b_5473467.html.

Cooper C. (2011) Fat lib: how fat activism expands the obesity debate. Debating Obesity. Springer, 164-191.

Dickins M, Thomas SL, King B, et al. (2011) The role of the fatosphere in fat adults’ responses to obesity stigma: a model of empowerment without a focus on weight Loss. Qualitative Health Research 21: 1679-1691.

Ferreday D. (2003) Unspeakable bodies: erasure, embodiment and the pro-ana community. International Journal of Cultural Studies 6: 277-295.

Fox N, Ward K and O’Rourke A. (2005) Pro-anorexia, weight-loss drugs and the internet: an ‘anti-recovery’ explanatory model of anorexia. Sociology of Health & Illness 27: 944-971.

Gerlitz C and Helmond A. (2013) The like economy: social buttons and the data-intensive web. New Media & Society 15: 1348-1365.

Hutton F, Griffin C, Lyons A, et al. (2016) ‘Tragic girls’ and ‘crack whores’: alcohol, femininity and Facebook. Feminism & Psychology 26: 73-93.

Longhurst R. (2009) YouTube: a new space for birth? Feminist Review 93: 46-63.

Lupton D. (2013) The Social Worlds of the Unborn, Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan.

Lupton D. (2016) Mastering your fertility: the digitised reproductive citizen In: McCosker A, Vivienne S and Johns A (eds) Negotiating Digital Citizenship: Control, Contest and Culture. London: Rowman & Littlefield.

Lupton D and Thomas GM. (2015) Playing pregnancy: the ludification and gamification of expectant motherhood in smartphone apps. M/C Journal, 18. Available at http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/viewArticle/1012.

Lupton D and Williamson B. (2017) The datafied child: the dataveillance of children and implications for their rights. New Media & Society.

Morrison A. (2011) “Suffused by feeling and affect”: the intimate public of personal mommy blogging. Biography 34: 37-55.

Sauter T. (2014) ‘What’s on your mind?’ Writing on Facebook as a tool for self-formation. New Media & Society 16: 823-839.

Smith N, Wickes R and Underwood M. (2013) Managing a marginalised identity in pro-anorexia and fat acceptance cybercommunities. Journal of Sociology.

Stragier J, Evens T and Mechant P. (2015) Broadcast yourself: an exploratory study of sharing physical activity on social networking sites. Media International Australia 155: 120-129.

Tembeck T. (2016) Selfies of ill health: online autopathographic photography and the dramaturgy of the everyday. Social Media + Society, 2. Available at http://sms.sagepub.com/content/2/1/2056305116641343.abstract.

Thomas GM and Lupton D. (2015) Threats and thrills: pregnancy apps, risk and consumption. Health, Risk & Society 17: 495-509.

van Dijck J. (2013) ‘You have one identity’: performing the self on Facebook and LinkedIn. Media, Culture & Society 35: 199-215.

 

 

Call for abstracts – Digital Food Cultures symposium

images

I am convening a one-day symposium on Digital Food Cultures, to be held at the University of Canberra on Friday 20 October 2017. If you are interested in presenting at this symposium, the call for abstracts is now out.

This symposium is directed at the social, cultural, political and ethical dimensions of representations and practices related to using digital technologies for food production, consumption, preparation, eating out, promoting healthy diets or weight loss, marketing, ethical consumption, food activism and environmental and sustainability politics.

Topics may include, but are not limited to food-related apps, online videos, GIFs and memes, other platforms, digital food-related games, wearable devices, digital food data and 3D printed food technologies.

I plan to edit a special journal issue from selected symposium papers.

Please send abstracts (with your name, university affiliation and title of paper) of 150-200 words to me by 1 June 2017 at deborah.lupton@canberra.edu.au.