Posts Tagged ‘ Karl Marx ’
The Organizations, Occupations, and Work blog (associated with the American Sociological Association) organized an interesting panel discussion between Chris Prener, Christopher Land, Steffen Böehm and myself. I'll summarize/critique the positions here and provide links for further reading.
Chris Prener initiated the conversation by asking "Is Facebook “Using” Its Members?" Prener claims that, though the company gives users "access to networks of friends and other individuals as well as social organizations and associations," Facebook—with it's advertising revenue "somewhere in the neighborhood of $3.2 billion"—" benefits far more in this somewhat symbiotic relationship." He concludes that Facebook, and social media more broadly, represent "a [new] space where even unpaid, voluntary leisure activities can be exploited for the commercial gain of the entities within which those activities occur."
My critique of Prener's piece is that he assert that Facebook benefits more from the online social networking than its 845 million users; this is an empirical question—one that requires further evidence an calculation. If we assume Prener's $3.2 billion figure is correct, Facebook is making only $3.79 in ad revenue per user. I would guess that many, if not most, users believe Facebook provides them with benefits that exceed that sum. In any case, exploitation still exists regardless of who benefits most.
Christopher Land and Steffen Böehm echo Prener in their piece: "They are exploiting us! Why we all work for Facebook for free." They too see Facebook's profit model as dependent on exploitation. But they approach the issue from a slightly different theoretical bent. Drawing on Herman and Chomsky's famous work on mass media, Land and Böehm argue that users (not content) are the primary product that social media creates, since it is users that are being sold to advertisers. They also observe, sardonically, that Facebook users experience a double-freedom insofar as users efforts are non-coerced but also unpaid. But just as Marx noted that capitalism achieved a monopoly over the means of survival (that is to say, people have to sell their labor to survive because that are otherwise denied access to the mean of production), Land and Böehm argue that Facebook (and capitalism, more broadly) have achieved a monopoly over the means of online social networking.
Land and Böehm might have improved their analogy by spelling out that social interaction fulfills a natural human need and that participation on Facebook is coercive because so many invitations, conversations, memes, etc. are accessible only through the platform, thus non-participation leads to non-inclusion and social isolation. A more important issue I see with their argument, however, is the apples-to-apples comparison between broadcast media consumers and social media prosumers. Herman and Chomsky were focused on the broadcast media's production of passive subjects; social media, on the other hand, is significant in that it produces active subjects (or, rather, subjects produce themselves for social media [see: Gilles Deleuze, "Post-script on the Society of Control" and Nathan Jurgeson, "Experiencing Life Through the Logic of Facebook"]). Herman and Chomsky were less concerned with exploitation than with political acquiescence. If Herman and Chomsky are correct in assuming that passivity in the realm of broadcast media consumption passes over into the realm of politics, then activity in the realm of social media prosumption might equally be expected to translate into politics (though Chomsky himself remains skeptical). In any case, while broadcast media consumers are subject to manipulation, it is unclear that they are subject to exploitation.
In my piece, "Facebook is Not a Factory (But Still Exploits its Users)," I argue that Facebook use benefits both users and owners, but, while Facebook gains monetarily, users receive immaterial benefits. This qualitative/quantitative difference in the forms of capital derived from Facebook makes it difficult to compare the relative degree of exploitation between Facebook use and traditional labor. However, we can infer that Facebook is probably not more exploitative than conventional labor and is certainly less alienating.
The critique I have of my own piece (pointed out by Alexis Madrigal via Nathan Jurgenson) is that I use Facebook's total market valuation in estimating the rate of exploitation for each user. This valuation is, of course, highly speculative and also includes so-called "constant capital." It is more appropriate to do as Prener has done and use ad revenue as the basis for calculating the rate of exploitation.
Clearly, the consensus among this group of authors is the exploitation is an integral part of Facebook's operation; however, questions remain as to its scope and significance.
Follow PJ Rey on Twiter: @pjrey
This piece is posted in cooperation with the Organization, Occupations, and Work Blog. Facebook’s IPO announcement has stirred much debate over the question of whether Facebook is exploiting/using/taking advantage of its users. The main problem with the recent discussion of this subject is that no one really seems to have taken the time to actually define what exploitation is. Let me start by reviewing this concept before proceeding to examine its relevance to Facebook.
Defining exploitation. The concept of exploitation came to prominence about a century and a half ago through the writings of Karl Marx, and he gave it a specific, objectively calculable definition—though, I’ll spare you the mathematical expressions. Marx starts from the assumption that value is created though labor (most people today acknowledge that value is contingent on other factors as well, but we need merely to accept that labor is one source of value for Marx’s argument to work). According to Marx, humans have an important natural relationship to the fruits of our labor, and our work is a definitive part of who we are. Modern capitalist society is unique from other periods in history because workers sell their labor time in exchange for wages (as opposed to, say, creating objects and bartering them for other objects). Capitalists accumulate money by skimming off some of the value created by worker’s labor and, so that the wages a worker receives is only a fraction of the total value he or she has created. The portion of the value created by a worker that is not returned back to that worker (after operating costs are covered) is called the rate of exploitation.
So, for example, imagine that, during one day of work, a factory worker takes $10 worth of wood and assembles a chair that retails for $60; if the worker is paid $20 in wages for that day, then rate of exploitation would equal $30/day. That is to say, the capitalist is made $30 richer each day at the expense of the worker. The real degree of exploitation, however, is best represented in relative terms. If we calculate the $30 of surplus value expropriated by the capitalist as a percentage the total value created ($60 - $10 = $50), then we find that the real degree of exploitation is 60% (= $30/$50*100) of the value created by the worker.
The important point here is that exploitation is an objective calculation—one that is separable from the subsequent moral debates we often have about ensuring fairness versus rewarding risk/innovation. So, if we want have a debate about the (im)morality of Facebooks’ business model—as many recent commentators are, in fact, endeavoring to do—we must first establish that exploitation objectively exists on Facebook. However, this is not as easy as it might seem. The organization of Facebook hardly resembles the “cattle-like existence” in the factories that Marx originally set out to describe. While Facebook’s users flock to the site willingly, even happily, Marx summarized the factory as a place where the worker:
does not feel content but unhappy, does not develop freely his physical and mental energy but mortifies his body and ruins his mind. . . . His labor is therefore not voluntary, but coerced; it is forced labor. It is therefore not the satisfaction of a need; it is merely a means to satisfy needs external to it. Its alien character emerges clearly in the fact that as soon as no physical or other compulsion exists, labor is shunned like the plague.
Given this apparent disconnect between the experience of factory work and social media use, we should be reluctant about merely attempting to superficially shoehorn this new phenomenon into the classic conceptual frame of exploitation. Instead, we should ask ourselves if these apparent differences have any bearing on the assumptions underlying our calculation of the rate of exploitation. Indeed, a closer examination reveals significant differences between the way exploitation is carried out in the factory and on social media.
Why do people use social media voluntarily, but avoid factory-style work whenever possible? There are two important reasons: 1.) Factory work is alienating, separating workers’ from their creative faculties to shape the nature of the objects they are laboring to produce. Social media encourages a much greater degree of self-directed creativity. 2.) Social media users are not only producers of social media but also consumers. As such, there are direct and obvious benefits to social media use, unlike the discomfort of factory work which is only partially and indirectly remediated by wages. These benefits of social media use are largely immaterial: e.g., making and preserving social connections, cultivating and demonstrating taste, and telegraphing that you are “with it,” part of the in-crowd. (Sociologists call these benefits cultural, social, and symbolic capital).
Though we all can recognize that these immaterial benefits have real value, it is extremely difficult to fix a price to them. How many dollars is a friendship worth? How much culturally literacy can you purchase for $100? Moreover, because usage patterns vary so widely, different social media users are bound to derive different sorts of value from their use. That is to say, the value of these immaterial benefits is relative to the unique circumstances of each user. Because users are “compensated” through these immaterial benefits (rather than receiving conventional wages), it is extremely difficult to come up with a concrete figure for the real degree of exploitation (note: this is not really even “compensation” because this value is created directly by and shared between users). We know that Facebook receives all the material benefits from our use. Most readers have probably already seen it calculated that with 850 million users and a speculative valuation of $100 billion, Facebook has netted $117.65 from each user. In this sense, we might say that the rate of exploitation is $117.65 per user for the eight years that Facebook has been in existence. However, without a concrete figure for the total value produced by each user, we are not really able to derive the real degree of exploitation. The best we can do is a sort of thought experiment: Would I pay $117.65 for what I have gotten out of Facebook in the past several years? If the answer is yes (personally speaking, I know I pay that much annually to host a website that I use far less than my profile), then we can loosely infer that the real degree of exploitation is less than 50%.
Why is important to know that the real degree of exploitation is less than 50%? Many critics of social media downplay the immaterial benefits of social media and argue that, because workers do not receive wages, they are experiencing “over-exploitation” (i.e., a condition where the real degree of exploitation approaches 100%). Our little thought experiment enables us to conclude that, while Facebook is exploitative (like all capitalist enterprise), it does not appear to be substantially more exploitative than conventional “brick and mortar” businesses. While all the alarm about hyper-capitalism and the precarious state of social media users is probably overstated, the fundamentally exploitative nature of Facebook’s business model gives users ample cause to be skeptical of the benevolent image of Facebook that founder and CEO Mark Zuckerberg painted in his recent IPO letter, saying “We don’t build services to make money; we make money to build better services.” This statement exemplifies the fact that the fuzziness surrounding these economic relationships may make it easier than ever to induce and perpetuate this sort of “false consciousness.”
Author’s note: A related peer-reviewed article on the topic of “Alienation, Exploitation, and Social Media” is forthcoming in next edition of American Behavioral Scientist.
Follow PJ Rey on Twitter: @pjrey.
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For nearly two centuries, the term “production” has conjured an image of a worker physically laboring in the factory. Arguably, this image has been supplanted, in recent decades, by office worker typing away on a keyboard; however, both images share certain commonalities. Office work and factory work are both conspicuous—i.e., the worker sees what she is making, be it a physical object or a document. Office work and factory work are also active—i.e., they require the workers’ energy and attention and come at the expense of other possible activities.
The nature of production has undergone a radical change in a ballooning sector of the economy. The paradigmatic images of active workers producing conspicuous objects in the factory and the office have been replaced by the image of Facebook users, leisurely interacting with one another. But before we delve into this new form of productivity we must take a moment to define production itself.
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Following Marx, we can say that any activity that results in the creation of value is production of one sort or another. Labor is a form of production specific to humans because human are capable of imagination and intentionality. He explains in the Philosophical and Economic Manuscripts of 1844 that
Conscious life activity distinguishes man immediately from animal life activity. It is just because of this that he is a species-being. Or it is only because he is a species-being that he is a conscious being, i.e., that his own life is an object for him. Only because of that is his activity free activity.Labor is production that is imagination-driven. However, production need not be intentional. Marx acknowledges this fact in Capital saying:
We pre-suppose labour in a form that stamps it as exclusively human. A spider conducts operations that resemble those of a weaver, and a bee puts to shame many an architect in the construction of her cells. But what distinguishes the worst architect from the best of bees is this, that the architect raises his structure in imagination before he erects it in reality. At the end of every labour-process, we get a result that already existed in the imagination of the labourer at its commencement. He not only effects a change of form in the material on which he works, but he also realises a purpose of his own that gives the law to his modus operandi, and to which he must subordinate his will. And this subordination is no mere momentary act. Besides the exertion of the bodily organs, the process demands that, during the whole operation, the workman’s will be steadily in consonance with his purpose. This means close attention. The less he is attracted by the nature of the work, and the mode in which it is carried on, and the less, therefore, he enjoys it as something which gives play to his bodily and mental powers, the more close his attention is forced to be.Now, we are in a position to observe that production in the factory and in office are united by a third characteristic: value is produced via labor (specifically, alienated labor).
A water wheel is a machine for converting the energy of free-flowing or falling water into useful forms of power, the development of hydropower.Value is produced from everyday activities much like a waterwheel harnesses the power of flowing water. This fact has profound implications, potentially requiring us to rethink traditional critiques of capitalism. However, before diving into these implications it would be useful to develop a vocabulary describe these new conditions in which production can occur without active laboring.
On September 18th, 2011, Barry Wellman, the early and rather prescient scholar of the Internet, posed a somewhat tongue-in-cheek question to the Communication and Information Technology Section of the American Sociology Association (CITASA): "'Critical' - aren't we all?" This post was precipitated by a call for papers for special issue of tripleC entitled Marx is Back: The Importance of Marxist Theory and Research for Critical Communication Studies Today (no affiliation with the author). Specifically, the call invited papers that address (my emphasis):
what it means to ask Marx’s questions in 21st century informational capitalism, how Marxian theory can be used for critically analyzing and transforming media and communication today, and what the implications of the revival of the interest in Marx are for the field of Media and Communication Studies.
Shortly after it was sent, Wellman responded to the call, saying:
Not meant personally, but the use of the word "critical" by a subset of scholars always bothers me as leading to unconscious smugness? If I'm "critical", your lot isn't? Who, except flacks and twerps, isn't critical? Can we criticize the criticalists?
This sparked a debate over the utility and appropriateness of the phrase "critical theory." Critics of the phrase raise the following objections:
In this essay, I will argue that, despite these objections, the phrase "Critical Theory" makes a useful distinction and that the stakes in this debate are more than merely semantic.
I. Definition & Background
First, it is important to differentiate critical theory, critical sociology, and critical thinking. Critical Theory (with capital "C" & "T") . In common parlance, a critical theory is simply one that seeks to disprove or discredit an extant theory. According to this definition, most professors are likely to engage in critical theorizing in their career. It is simply one mode of academic discourse. Sometimes, critical theory is called "negative theory" because it negates existing explanations of various phenomena, as opposed to positive theory whose purpose is new explanations.
Following this interpretation of critical theory, Michael Burawoy argued, in his 2004 presidential address to the American Sociological Association, that critical sociology is a distinct subset of sociology that challenges dominant paradigms within the discipline of sociology, saying "It is the role of critical sociology [...] to examine the foundations—both the explicit and the implicit, both normative and descriptive—of the research programs of professional sociology."
In contrast to the specificity of critical theory, "critical thinking" is a relatively vague term that generally implies thoroughness and rigor in making logical connections. While critical theorizing generally occurs in professional academic discourse, critical thinking is widely valorized across various social strata. Everybody is supposed to aspire to be a critical thinker.
"Critical Theory" (capital "C" & "T") is distinct from the common noun phrase "critical theory." Critical Theory generally refers to a specific intellectual movement associated with the Frankfurt school, a few loosely associated figures, and their successors. Critical Theory is not defined merely by rigor or thoughtfulness; therefore, the claim that something is not Critical Theory does not amount to a claim that something is not thoughtful or rigorous. Rather, "Critical Theory" is the name given to a distinct theoretical approach developed in reaction to a historically specific set of conditions. The agenda of this theoretical program is laid out in Theodor Horkheimer's (1937) seminal essay "Traditional and Critical Theory," in which he explains:
The traditional idea of theory is based on scientific activity as carried on within the division of labor at a particular stage in the latter's development. It corresponds to the activity of the scholar which takes place alongside all the other activities of a society but in no immediately clear connection with them. In this view of theory, therefore, the real social function of science is not made manifestCritical Theory, on the other hand,
Although it itself emerges from the social structure, its purpose is not, either in its conscious intention or in its objective significance, the better functioning of any element in the structure. On the contrary, it is suspicious of the very categories of better, useful, appropriate, productive, and valuable, as these are understood in the present order, and refuses to take them as nonscientific presuppositions about which one can do nothing. […] such thinkers interpret the economic categories of work, value, and productivity exactly as they are interpreted in the existing order, and they regard any other interpretation as pure idealism. But at the same time they consider it rank dishonesty simply to accept the interpretation; the critical acceptance of the categories which rule social life contains simultaneously their condemnation.So, while traditional theorists attempt to refine and develop extant systems with respect to newly acquired data, Critical Theorists question the social implications of the very assumptions on which those systems are based. They can do so only by first engaging in the history of sociology—that is, by making the shift from data to theory itself as the object of inquiry. Then, secondarily, they must subject that theory to political inquiry, particularly questioning its position with respect to dominant ideologies. Critical theorists ask: "Who benefits by starting from these assumptions?" The Frankfurt School often suggested that people ignore explanations equally as plausible as their own assumptions due to mass manipulation, repression, or false consciousness. The most important difference between traditional theory and Critical Theory is that the former aims to refine and reform a system, while the latter seeks a revolutionary disposition of that system. Traditional theory is about taking the set of tools you are given and trying to make them work better, While Critical Theory greets those same tools with suspicion and asks: Who benefits from these tools, can we use different tools, or can we put them to use in different ways?