Setting the Stage: Existing Research on the Use of E-Mail
Research related to the use of electronic mail, or "e-mail" as it is more commonly called, tends to be most easily located in business, technology, and communication journals. Such research usually falls into one of several camps: social psychological research (considering the impact of both organizational and recreational use), educational psychological approaches, political economic analysis, Marxism, feminism, postmodernism, ethnographic analysis, and many sub-combinations of these individual approaches.
Social psychological research reveals that there are at least two aspects of human communication: verbal and nonverbal cues; and that we interact with one another through a multifaceted process of gauging facial expressions, tone of voice, verbal semantics, and gestures (Krauss et al. 1981). Often, we derive information about the personality and affect of others on the basis of the complex interaction between verbal and nonverbal cues, as well as from our own emotional state and experiences (Ekman et al. 1980).
Ruesch and Kees divide nonverbal communication into three groups: sign language, including gestures that enhance, replace, or modify language; action language, including motion and activities such as walking; and object language, including display of objects such as artworks, memorabilia, and clothing (Ruesch and Kees 1969, 189). All of these aspects of nonverbal interaction influence how others perceive us and attribute meaning to our communication. It has been argued that nonverbal messages are especially powerful for two reasons: nonverbals constitute an older and more widely shared form of communication; and we often use information gathered from others' nonverbal signals to help us decide whether (or in what manner) to initiate further levels of communication, such as verbal interchange (Trenholm and Jensen 1988, 123-124). Thus nonverbal messages help order, shape, and give meaning to our interactions with others in ways in which we may not always be fully aware.
One of the most challenging aspects of computer-mediated communication is that some of the socioemotional cues that we have traditionally been accustomed to using to make those kinds of judgments and to negotiate those interactions are missing. A variety of authors, some approaching the subject from a social science perspective (Rice and Love 1987), and others approaching it from a management organization perspective (see, for example, Steinfield 1986; Sherblom 1988; and Trevino, Lengel, and Daft's symbolic interactionist perspective, 1987), have addressed this topic.
A significant number of these articles reveal a hint of what seems to be a certain latent fear that frequent interaction with machines, whether it be in the workplace or in the home, will have an adverse impact on the human psyche. One article predicts that frequent exposure to technology rather than to human beings in the workplace will "increase a sense of [personal] alienation and decrease relationship-building skills" (Sherblom 1988, 40). Other speculations echo that fear: "the ability of individuals reared on the new technology to establish effective human relationships may itself be impaired" (Gratz and Salem 1984, 101-102).
Sherblom argues, quite rightly, that "any communication channel through which a message passes impacts on, influences, and alters the content and context of that message" (1988, 39). Kiesler, Siegel, and McGuire have described several ways in which computer-mediated communication differs from face-to-face communication: it is rapid, there is an absence of regulating feedback, nonverbal cues as well as status and position cues are missing, the communication experience is socially anonymous (with a resulting decrease in inhibitions), and there are fewer norms governing computer etiquette than face-to-face communication (1984). Some of the earlier research in this field which addresses the differences between face-to-face and computer-mediated communication examines comparative aspects of various media in regards to how they facilitate or hinder the performance of cooperative tasks and the resolution of conflict. Several of these earlier studies provide a good theoretical foundation, but fail to address the burgeoning communication capabilities of computer systems because computer networks were not yet widespread enough, or advanced enough, to provide a sufficiency of evidence to support exploration at that time (see, for example, Williams 1977).
Several information technology analyses address the concern that profound cultural changes are occurring as a result of our reliance on and interaction with machines: "Since the ability to build interpersonal relationships is a learned skill, the development of a new social fabric that depends to a significantly greater degree on interactions between man [sic] and machine could inhibit this learning" (Gratz and Salem 1984, 101). Additionally, Renfro, quoted in Gratz and Salem, discusses Studs Terkel's theory that "schmoozing"--"achieving a sense of companionship and togetherness among workers"--is one of the major social components of work that make our jobs rewarding; and he expresses a concern that this opportunity for social interaction may be lacking in the modern, computerized workplace (Gratz and Salem 1984, 101).
On the other hand, Nancy Baym (1995) makes the case that people using computers will find ways to socialize that are complemented, rather than thwarted, by the medium. Steinfeld's study of computer-mediated communication in an organizational setting reveals that two of the variables that most influence a given individual's propensity to utilize an electronic mail network for social purposes are tenure (amount of time the person has been using the technology) and age, "with newer or younger employees being more likely to use the system for social purposes" (1986, 800). Certainly, the issue of how we achieve emotional fulfillment in the high-tech present and future is controversial, interesting, and complex, and bears further exploration.
Experts in the field of computer cognition, analyzing how and why potential users of technology either embrace or reject the computer, often focus on the formative process of technology-related learning and adaptation. Many authors have contributed to the wealth of information currently available that addresses the ways in which individuals of either gender approach such learning. For example, Lockheed builds upon earlier studies that suggest that females in particular may be reticent to learn to use computers, and she suggests several reasons that might help to explain their aversion: computer programming (and computer use in general) is associated with mathematics, a subject area perceived as a primarily male domain; computer games which emphasize competition and violence are not compatible with "socialized female values, such as relational ethics" (Lockheed 1985, 119); and teachers and parents do not perceive computer skills as important for girls (and therefore do not financially support girls' learning of computer skills).
In support of that hypothesis, Hess and Miura, in a study of enrollments in summer computer camps, found that three times as many boys as girls were enrolled in computer camps. The predominance of males in these programs increased in relation to "grade, cost of program, and level of difficulty" of the courses (Hess and Miura 1985, 193). In their summary and discussion, Hess and Miura point out that interest in computer programming reflects the traditional mathematics gender split (also noted by Lockheed, above); computer programming is seen as a male-dominated profession; computer games reflect male themes and styles of interaction; girls are less encouraged by their parents to participate in computer use; and the visual-spatial aspects of computer programming are more appealing to boys than to girls.
Others who have explored the issue of technology-related learning in the formative years have linked female underachievement in computer science and mathematics to females' lower self-assurance in those fields. For example, Klein relates female students' lack of confidence in the computer arena to "math anxiety" in general, and to women's perceived math-related "low ability and discouragement by others" (Klein 1990, 52).
Interestingly enough, one study revealed that in those computer-related tasks that were perceived as more "verbal" than "mathematic" in nature, such as electronic searches, female students performed very well: "writing tasks dominat[ed] over the new technology aspects of the students' science assignment. Girls consistently performed better than boys on their themes of traditional verbal dimensions in both the computer and print-only classes" (Eastman and Krendl 1987, 45-46). In the same study, students were given pre- and post-tests that measured their attitudes toward computers and gender roles. "Both boys and girls changed in the direction of a more equitable assessment of computers and gender roles after computer use--implying that both sexes can work well with computers, but not everyone does, regardless of gender" (Eastman and Krendl 1987, 46). Indeed, the jury on whether students in general have a favorable or unfavorable attitude toward learning with computers is still out (see Lawton and Gerschner, 1982).
Turkle's "ethnographic and clinical" studies of male versus female learning related to technology describe how this cultural dichotomy works itself out in the computer field; and she provides a concise synopsis of the deep cultural symbolism that may be at work when women choose to interact (or not to interact, as the case may be) with computers: "The issue for the future is not computerphobia, needing to stay away because of fear and panic, but rather computer reticence, wanting to stay away because the computer becomes a personal and cultural symbol of what a woman is not" (Turkle 1988, 41). Culturally learned rather than innate factors may have more to do with women's adaptation to or rejection of technology than we realize. Within our system of gender acculturation, women are still often taught to define their cultural value in terms of their relationships with others. This perception can be a psychological stumbling block when women begin to interact with computers. One woman verbalized her concerns as follows: "I don't like establishing relationships with machines. I don't like putting it that way. Relationships are for people" (Turkle 1988, 47).
In contrast, Turkle's in-depth analysis of male and female children's computer learning and design styles (discussed in Chapter 3 of The Second Self) reveals a wide range of acceptable computer adaptation and learning, with female youths evidencing a more "relational" (or "soft" mastery) style of interacting with the machine and male youths exhibiting a more "dominational" (or "hard" mastery) style of interaction. Again, educational strategies may be partially to blame, as these kinds of differences are discouraged rather than noted and built upon: since contemporary computer science education privileges the "dominational" style of mastery, female students who begin their computer experiences with curiosity and creativity may find their enthusiasm quelled by educational systems that teach them that their style of computer interaction, if it does not exhibit the appropriate "hard" mastery style, is inappropriate or even incorrect.
A purely economic analysis of the issues provides an additional perspective. Some of the research related to women's use or nonuse of computers can be found in the "technology haves vs. have-nots" economic debate that tends to place women in the "have-nots" category: those potential users who are underrepresented in the field of computers because of a lack of financial resources or political wherewithal. For example, some articles on the subject lay the blame for the current "socially structured silence" of women in the technological workplace on "national and global structures of information-capitalism" that privilege those who create and control the forces of production (Jansen 1989, 196). Huff and Cooper point out that there is a sex-linked bias in the creation of educational software because most of the people who design software are men; the results of this gender bias are described as follows: "We have collected some data that indicate that children using software designed for the opposite sex are more anxious after they interact with the program and that that anxiety leads to lowered scores in the subject the program was intended to teach" (Huff and Cooper 1987, 530). This argument would also maintain that because women are generally in positions of less power in avenues of both creation and use of information technologies, their voices are often not considered in the generation of new software and information systems. Isolating women from the forces of production in this manner has a profound cultural impact.
Cultural exclusion and economic exclusion go hand in hand. Benston captures the modern Western ideology related to appropriate uses of technology in a nutshell:
Boys and men are expected to learn about machines, tools and how things work. In addition, they absorb, ideally, a "technological world view" that grew up along with industrial society. Such a world view emphasizes objectivity, rationality, control over nature and distance from human emotions. Conversely, girls and women are not expected to know much about technical matters. Instead, they are to be good at interpersonal relationships and to focus on people and on emotion. They are to be less rational, less capable of abstract, "objective" thought. (Benston 1988, 15)
Women who are prevented from learning or who choose not to learn to use technologies may be handicapped in many ways. Frissen argues that the exclusion of women from the processes of designing and producing instructional technologies prevents women from attaining a higher level of control over their lives and realizing their economic potential:
The effects of information technology seem to be negative, or at best not positive enough, where women are concerned. In short, the exclusion of women seems to be the main message. In a society in which information and communication technologies have become an indissoluble part of daily life, the exclusion of women from these technologies can indeed make them feel "trapped in electronic cages." (Frissen 1992, 45)
The process of educational, cultural, and economic exclusion is multifaceted. Following upon what may have been a negative educational and cultural experience related to computers (see above), few women choose to enter computer science fields when they reach college age. Statistics related to women's representation in computer science at the college level reveal a continued disproportionately low percentage of women engaged in such fields of study: "In the most recent years for which statistics are available, women received a third of the bachelor's degrees in computer science, 27% of master's degrees, and 13% of Ph.D.s" (Shade and We 1993, 12).
The workplace experience is not much better. Schement and Curtis note, for example, that although women have made some advances in the workplace in the recent past, "predictions that the growth of information occupations would diminish the gender gap by raising the status of jobs traditionally held by women have not been realized" (Schement and Curtis 1995, 217). In fact, workforce evidence reveals that the same conflicts related to gender and technology experienced in the educational and social arena are played out in women's places of employment, as well. Gutek and Bikson, in their comparison of male and female perceptions of satisfaction with computer-related job issues, discovered that gender-related perceptions of technology were tied to issues of control and access. Women in the workplace were "clearly in less important positions than men," and were therefore less likely to make decisions about the uses of technology in the workplace; and women's use of such technology tended to be for more routinized tasks, while men's computer use was "more flexible and autonomous" (Gutek and Bikson 1985, 133-134). Thus, "In our offices, the technology seems to reflect the status quo, rather than reinforce it. Information technology has not served as a catalyst for change, altered the opportunity structure for women, nor ushered in new roles for women workers" (Gutek and Bikson 1985, 135).
Within the feminist approach, two opinions on the subject appear over and over in the literature. The first of these is similar in many ways to the political economic approach outlined above, and I would describe it as a kind of feminist Luddite Marxism, in that the authors categorize technology as one of many vehicles of male gender dominance, and therefore reject it. Cynthia Cockburn presents evidence to show how machinery and technological know-how have, since the Middle Ages, throughout the Industrial Revolution and up to the present, been set aside as the domain of men. For example, she notes the gender division in occupations related to metallurgy as being of particular interest because it reflects the ways in which the alignment of technological skills with gender reinforces existing systems of power:
The importance of metals and of the skills of smelter, founder and smith to the military and agricultural exploits of rulers and ruling classes can be in no doubt. It seems that in male-dominated societies these occupations are seen as male. Technological skills are a source of power and where men were in possession of all other vehicles of power, from state organization to marriage, it would have been surprising to find women in possession of mechanical powers. (Cockburn 1985, 21)
Cockburn argues that inherent in our exploration of the appropriate uses of assorted technologies over the years has been the male impulse toward domination and downright violence: "These so-called triumphs of the male technologists have, it is true, sometimes taken the form of useful work. But they have often been non-productive--at best gratuitous display, at worst military or economic rape" (Cockburn 1985, 256). Other authors have presented the argument that technology has been used as a means to oppress and control women, causing "a loss of decision-making and self-determination"; this process results in isolation which "becomes the vehicle for their further and future oppression by circumscribing their effective political participation" (D'Onofrio-Flores 1982, 25). This particular kind of argument tends to contain a rather strong anti-male and anti-technology flavor, and typically ends in a call for women (who are sometimes presented as the nobler and more humanitarian sex) to make more socially aware and egalitarian uses of technology that will result in the betterment of all people, and not in the advancement of one group at the expense of the subjugation of another.
Fredric Jameson, in his article, "Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism," suggests that the "placelessness" of Cyberspace serves as an adequate metaphor for the decenteredness of self in society, the postmodern condition:
So I come finally to my principal point here, that this latest mutation in space--postmodern hyperspace--has finally succeeded in transcending the capacities of the individual human body to locate itself, to organize its immediate surroundings perceptually, and cognitively to map its position in a mappable external world. And I have already suggested that this alarming disjunction point between the body and its built environment--which is to the initial bewilderment of the older modernism as the velocities of space craft are to those of the automobile--can itself stand as the symbol and analogue of that even sharper dilemma which is the incapacity of our minds, at least at present, to map the great global multinational and decentred communicational network in which we find ourselves caught as individual subjects. (Jameson 1984, 83-84)
In the world of the virtual, self relates to other in new ways: identity depends less upon the embodiment of actual physical presence and more upon that which is verbal. Jean-Francois Lyotard observes that within this environment the social bond has been altered:
A self does not amount to much, but no self is an island; each exists in a fabric of relations that is now more complex and mobile than ever before. Young or old, man or woman, rich or poor, a person is always located at "nodal points" of specific communication circuits, however tiny these may be. Or better: one is always located at a post through which various kinds of messages pass. No one, not even the least privileged among us, is ever entirely powerless over the messages that traverse and position him at the post of sender, addressee, or referent. One's mobility in relation to these language game effects (language games, of course, are what this is all about) is tolerable, at least within certain limits (and the limits are vague); it is even solicited by regulatory mechanisms, and in particular by the self-adjustments the system undertakes to improve its performance. (Lyotard 1984, 115)
What I will call postmodern feminism occurs at the intersection of several of these views: the second feminist position is in some ways antithetical, and in other ways complementary, to the first feminist position presented. [10] It is also very different in that its tone is not necessarily anti-male or anti-technology. Smith and Balka, for example, note that those women who do choose to work with computers may discover unanticipated benefits. They state that "Women have been creative in finding ways to send messages to each other. Whatever it is called, network building among women has been around for a long time"; and they point out that computer networks provide yet an additional opportunity for women to network with one another (Smith and Balka 1988, 82). Observing that "we want computer networks that are compatible with feminism," Smith and Balka express the opinion that "displacement and deskilling don't have to be the major results of computer applications in the office"; they suggest instead that female office workers who pull together may be able to influence the ways in which technology can enhance (rather than detract from) women's position in the workplace (Smith and Balka 1988, 96, 87).
Current rethinkings of what it means to be human in the face of the intelligent machine cause us to challenge our assumptions of previously-taken-for-granted-as-innate dualities. Theoretical contemplation of Cyber-culture can lead us to frame old questions in new ways: "The dichotomies between mind and body, animal and human, organism and machine, public and private, nature and culture, men and women, primitive and civilized are all in question ideologically" (Haraway 1991, 163).
Judith Halberstam points out that this process of questioning and decentering can be liberating, in that it breaks down cultural preconceptions: "The vertigo that Jameson describes, like the confusion precipitated in Lyotard's text by the breakdown of 'grand narratives of legitimation,' is nothing new for women and people of color. The world, after all, has been mapped and legitimated for only a small group of people" (Halberstam 1991, 449). The approach used by Haraway and Halberstam leverages the concept of gender itself as a technology, and uses the cultural construction of "woman" to suggest new perceptions of a "natural" (if there can be such a thing) alignment between "female" and "machine"--because both are cultural constructions of "not man."
Times of cultural uncertainty, it can be argued, sometimes reveal themselves as moments of infinite possibility: Haraway's final stance on the issue is that cyborg imagery "can suggest a way out of the maze of dualisms in which we have explained our bodies and our tools to ourselves. This is a dream not of a common language, but of a powerful infidel heteroglossia" (Haraway 1991, 181). This approach suggests an unprecedented optimism regarding the potential for a positive emerging relationship between and among women, science, and technology: "From the point of view of pleasure in these potent and taboo fusions, made inevitable by the social relations of science and technology, there might indeed be a feminist science" (Haraway 1991, 173).
Media Fandom--and Ethnography--Online
Henry Jenkins, in his book Textual Poachers, discusses the ways in which fandom has the potential to bring people together. The "gossip" or "chatting" that occurs around the common threads of fandom can be a source of social bonding, and of "mutual self-disclosure":
Gossip builds common ground between its participants, as those who exchange information assure one another of what they share. Gossip is finally a way of talking about yourself through evoking the actions and values of others. The same may be said of the function of television talk within the fan community. In an increasingly atomistic age, the ready-made characters of popular culture provide a shared set of references for discussing common experiences and feelings with others with whom one may never have enjoyed face-to-face contact. (Jenkins 1992, 80, 81)
Fandom communities, online and off, can provide an avenue for socialization into a particular mode of media appreciation: "an individual's socialization into fandom often requires learning 'the right way' to read as a fan, learning how to employ and comprehend the community's particular interpretive conventions" (Jenkins 1992, 89). This thesis, like Jenkins' foray into what he calls fandom's "participatory culture," rejects "media-fostered stereotypes of fans as cultural dupes, social misfits, and mindless consumers" and instead "perceives fans as active producers and manipulators of meanings" (Jenkins 1992, 23).
Janice Radway has conducted ethnographic exploration of the meanings women make of the romance novels they read. One of the most informative aspects of her analysis is the chapter in which she focuses specifically on "the significance of the act of romance reading rather than on the meaning of the romance" (Radway 1991, 86). Such an approach allows Radway to explore the roles and functions of media fandom within the fan's everyday environment, including the indulgence of self in relaxation and escape from the demands of everyday life. Jenkins offers a similar reading of other forms of media fandom, and explains that for some fans, fandom activity may be a site of resistance, a place where fans reaffirm their ideals and negotiate the tension between the desired and the real:
Life, all too often, falls far short of [our] ideals. Fans, like all of us, inhabit a world where traditional forms of community life are disintegrating, the majority of marriages end in divorce, most social relations are temporary and superficial, and material values often dominate over emotional and social needs. Fans are often people who are overeducated for their jobs, whose intellectual skills are not challenged by their professional lives. Fans react against those unsatisfying situations, trying to establish a "weekend-only world" more open to creativity and accepting of differences, more concerned with human welfare than with economic advance. Fandom, too, falls short of those ideals; the fan community is sometimes rife with feuds and personality conflicts. Here, too, one finds those who are self-interested and uncharitable, those who are greedy and rude, yet, unlike mundane reality, fandom remains a space where a commitment to more democratic values may be renewed and fostered. Noncommunal behavior is read negatively, as a violation of the social contract that binds fans together and often becomes the focus of collective outrage. (Jenkins 1992, 282)
Participation in fannish activities--whether they be around books, or movies, or whatever the medium or the particular art form--creates a space where the self can set aside and claim moments or hours of what may be stolen pleasure.
Fandom constitutes such a space, one defined by its refusal of mundane values and practices, its celebration of deeply held emotions and passionately embraced pleasures. Fandom's very existence represents a critique of conventional forms of consumer culture. Yet fandom also provides a space within which fans may articulate their specific concerns about sexuality, gender, racism, colonialism, militarism, and forced conformity. These themes regularly surface within fan discussions and fan artworks. Fandom contains both negative and positive forms of empowerment. Its institutions allow the expression both of what fans are struggling against and what they are struggling for; its cultural products articulate the fans' frustration with their everyday life as well as their fascination with representations that pose alternatives. (Jenkins 1992, 283)
Ethnography can contribute to the field of media studies by providing valuable insight into media fandom's manifestations: fans' relationships with one another as part of a global interpretive community, and fans' use of fandom activities to relate to (or reject) and make meaning of the dominant cultural order. Ien Ang provides the following helpful perspective:
Ethnographic work, in the sense of drawing on what we can perceive and experience in everyday settings, acquires its critical mark when it functions as a reminder that reality is always more complicated and diversified than our theories can represent, and that there is no such thing as "audience" whose characteristics can be set once and for all. The critical promise of the ethnographic attitude resides in its potential to make and keep our interpretations sensitive to the concrete specificities, to the unexpected, to history. . . . What matters is not the certainty of knowledge about audiences, but an ongoing critical and intellectual engagement with the multifarious ways in which we constitute ourselves through media consumption. (Ang 1990, 110)
This thesis addresses the "concrete specificities" of one particular online community in which fans use the medium to conduct a dialogue on the meaning and value of art and experience, and to negotiate social relationships with others both inside and outside the fandom community.
Existing research on electronic communication provides the following background information. An environment deficient in nonverbal cues presents communication challenges, in that it limits the possible range of interpersonal interactions. Within this environment, users' comfort and skill levels tend to reflect the traditional male/female math/verbal split, with female students more often exhibiting an aversion to computers that may reflect cultural stereotypes of gender-appropriate behaviors in regard to technology. Also, female users more often fall into the "have-nots" category on the economic scale: those who do not have the monetary or political wherewithal to achieve adequate representation in the technological arena.
Feminist and Marxist approaches categorize the technological infrastructure as yet one more means of reinforcing existing systems of male gender dominance. However, recent postmodern feminist writings consider the advantages that the virtual environment may afford women, in that the "placelessness" of Cyberspace may serve as a liberating force that has the potential to free women from "other"-imposed definitions of self.
Ethnographic analysis provides an opportunity for the research community to ground itself firmly in the specificities of media consumption. Such approaches also allow us to explore the ways in which technology is changing how people interact with media and with one another in the online environment.