Washington Post Article on Self-Surveillance

Back in September 2008, the Washington Post ran an interesting look at self-surveillance, Bytes of Life, interviewing a number of people who were dutifully tracking numerous data points in their day-to-day lives. It is a good introduction to the subject, but unfortunately focuses on some of the more obsessive types in an already obsessive endeavor. For example,

Self-trackers like  [Chris] Messina and [Brynn] Evans could spend hours online, charting, analyzing, tracking. Life as a series of pure, distilled data points, up for interpretation.

I’m not sure if that’s reporter Monica Hesse’s take on self-surveillance or Messina and Evans really do enjoy spending that much time, but here’s my take — if you’re spending more than a few minutes a day capturing and tracking data, you’re doing it wrong. I’d say on most days I spend about at most 10 minutes doing the charting/analyzing/tracking routine (and I’m currently tracking 16 different variables). This is the computer/Internet age — automate, automate, automate and get back to living your life.

The other thing I find a bit odd in this article and others by proponents of self-surveillance is the extent to which you can make decisions based upon such data. There seem to be people, for example, who track their daily/hourly/whatever moods and then attempt to correlate that with other events.

Tracking can “zoom out over my entire life,” he [Messina] says. It could, for example, help him better understand the aforementioned breakup. “When you’ve self-documented the course of an entire relationship, trivia that doesn’t seem like much could, over time,” help him understand exactly what went wrong, and when.

Maybe, but I doubt it. I suspect that such data would either be obvious — wow, my mood is terrible the day before my dentist appointments as I have a childhood fear of dentists — or it will be specious correlations that are confused for causation.

So what exactly is self-surveillance good for beyond the obsessive need to do it? For me, it is primarily a) a tool for meeting personal goals, and b) a way to objectively look at the progress I’m making on those goals.

For example, I really want to lose about 50 pounds. But losing weight is difficult, and as my daughter’s endocrinologist told me, we have a psychological tendency to overestimate the amount of exercise we’re doing. So if I take the dog for a walk a couple months a day, there’s a strong part of  me thinking “okay, I took the dog for a couple walks, I can skip the treadmill.” Tracking weight, dog walks, treadmill, and other workouts does two things. First, it forces me every day to record objectively just what I did the previous day. Did I get on the treadmill? If not, a big 0 goes in there and I’m reminded I really should have done so. Moreover, I can see pretty much what effect that and other decisions have on my weight.

That’s a fairly traditional method of self-surveillance, but I use the same principle to keep me on target for my reading goal this year. Not only do I track when I start and finish a book, but I go so far as to track and record daily how many pages I read the previous day. Again, when I have to put in 0-15 pages, I realize there’s no way in hell I’m going to meet my goal with too many days like that. On the other hand, when I can stuff 172 in that particular chart, it is a very nice positive reinforcement that says “see, you can really do this.”

I don’t want to turn all Norman Vincent Peale here, but IMO a good portion of life is tricking/persuading ourselves to stay on task to achieve difficult goals. Self-surveillance can play a major role in personal achievement without becoming an obsessive substitute for it.

How Will We Store (and Find) All That Porn?

I really wish there was a video online somewhere of Rose White’s presentation on data storage at 25C3, The Infinite Library: Storage and Access of Pornographic Information.

Of course, it has always been a pain to store pornography — and so we have the cultural trope of a stash of magazines “under the mattress” or in a box hidden in the closet. But as the sex industry shifts toward digital publication at every level, we might imagine that mere storage will become a problem of the past, or, at least, a problem related to legacy materials (books, magazines, videos, comic books, photographs, etc.). Cheap, massive storage media means no more problem, right?

Well, reviewers of porn find that they quickly amass more material than they will ever have time to peruse; librarians who need to provide access to controversial and poorly cataloged material end up overwhelmed; even casual collectors of pornography still need some way to keep track of what they have.

Toward that end, I am doing preliminary research on how people store and access their digital pornography collections. In my early interviews, I have already encountered a fascinating mix of responses; one person has said they store their porn “in the cloud,” while another explained his detailed system for hiding digital porn files from his partner.