New Media Mood Rings

I've become more interested in people's use of media related to their moods. You could understand any moment of human experience by looking at moods, how they change, what changes them, why they change, why we're able to control them sometimes and can't control them at other times (if we could, wouldn't we always choose to be happy?).

All media consumption is related to moods, but with some, there seems to be more variety and fluctuation in moods. TV is interesting in that, at least for me, it seems to generate very few moods: the ritualistic up-down-up of a good drama; the introspective, aggro-but-still interested-in-learning-about-human-behavior vibe I get from HBO dramas; the self-esteem that comes from watching "healthy" TV like Charlie Rose; the amusement brought on by comedy; the pleasant, trance-like numbing of the mind that sports and pretty much everything else induces; some combination of these. With film, its mostly the same. But with music, things are totally different.

I tried in vain to label all of my music according to mood: drunk, funny, energetic, emo, emotional, happy, in love, rock out w/ cock out, blissed out, sad, druggy, melancholy, etc. (it would be interesting to explore color coding as a means of categorizing music according to mood. Maybe this would work better than words). I was thinking that when I was in a certain mood, I'd dial up those songs on my Ipod, but it wasn't that simple. Sometimes, I knew what I wanted, what song, what artist, what genre. But most of the time, I'm not sure how I feel or what I want, but I'm not willing to give myself over to the randomness of the shuffle feature. That's the key difference between interactive and passive media, and I'm defining music, as we listen to it now in the post-album era (and perhaps TV in the era of remote controls and frequent commercial interruptions), as "interactive" in the sense that we expect to exert control, that we're not willing to give ourselves over to the mood-shifting narrative created by the artist.

Music media can be a mood enhancer, mood manager, mood changer, or, most interestingly of all, a mood indicator (like a mood ring). It seems odd not to know whether you're happy or sad, but most of the time, according to my use of music, that's how I am. Its not until I don't hit the "skip" button when that Beatles song comes up on shuffle that I realize I'm really happy.

I'm still sketching out these ideas on mood and the level of interaction or control in media. I think w/ online video, we're treating video in the same way we treat music, but it might be overly-simplistic to say that we use both to enhance moods rather than experience a new mood. I doubt that self-reporting will get us the answer to these questions. Most of the time, we don't know exactly what we want, but maybe we're too afraid to admit that b/c it means that we're being controlled, which goes against every freedom-loving, individuality-promoting instinct in our minds.

When you look at the big picture of our media use, our use reflects our demographic, our psychographic, our values and beliefs and preferences. But when you start looking closely, you can see the ups and downs of our moods, which are far less predictable than other patterns. You could predict I'd like a new band b/c I like that genre of music, but you can't predict what I'm going to listen to tonight b/c you can't know whether the hundreds of interactions I have w/ people today are going to put me in a good or bad mood...unless you carefully monitored my brain activity and physiological states? Or just spied on me all the time? Maybe the next generation of IPods will measure that sort of thing, and finally I'll get the media I want but didn't even knew I wanted.

Washington Week in Review

I feel obliged to write about my experience as an intern for the Media & Democracy Coalition here in Washington DC. This wasn't my first instinct, given that policy is not my area of expertise, and so I imagined that I'd have more to gain from and little to add to the online conversation about media policy. But since this is a fairly unique opportunity for a media scholar to see how the sausage gets made (is it me or is this metaphor becoming more and more popular?), I thought I'd write about it, albeit from the perspective of an under-informed outsider.

Today, I attended a meeting put on my the Media Access Project with two representatives of the presidential candidates, a representative from Skype, and one from AT&T. They talked about what the next administration would do regarding telecom policy in the next 4 years. For the most part, there were no surprises. I was reminded of everything that frustrates me about political discussion. You have two sides of an ideological divide stating and re-stating their beliefs on one central issue: what actions do legislators and businesses take in order to bring about the broadest benefits for all? One side privileges government regulation. The other privileges unfettered markets. Both of them speak in familiar generalities. When they do recognize that regulation might be appropriate for some circumstances and not for others, they don't talk about the attributes of that circumstance (say, the rate at which people adopt a technology, or the rate at which the cost of a product falls). Instead, they point to the fact that innovation occurred after a certain policy was enacted. One side interprets the innovation as an acceptable level while the other sees it as less than what could have been under a different policy. In the real world situations that they're comparing, they cannot make logical claims about causality between policy and innovation, but that doesn't stop them from doing so.

The whole discussion seems like posturing, just a way of publicly declaring, yet again, that the individuals in question (Obama, McCain, and their surrogates) stand where you would imagine them to stand on the issues. This kind of public posturing isn't without value. In a representative democracy, citizens need to be familiar with candidates so that they can make voting decisions based on something substantive. But is that all there is to such talks? Posturing in public, and decisions made to placate the wealthiest players behind closed doors? No.

I think that the answers to the questions being debated by these two sides can be found using behavioral media studies and behavioral economics. You could say, definitively, whether or not Skype was in direct competition with Verizon (and therefore deserving of the same kinds of regulation as Verizon) by finding out if a sample group of consumers acted as though the goods were substitutable given what they are bundled with (Skype with internet access, Verizon with cable TV and internet at a higher price). If they treat it as a substitutable good at a certain price, then it should be regulated like a service provider when sold below that price level.

You could see if regulation or deregulation of a communications market (be it at the application level or the equipment/backbone level) results in more innovation or less innovation by creating two parallel online environments where avatars are inclined to gain some resource (virtual $) and need to communicate with other avatars in order to compete or cooperate with them to achieve their goals. One of the environments has regulated communications competition and the other does not. Wait a few months, give the providers of the communications a chance to innovate or fail to innovate, and compare the results.

It wouldn't be prohibitively costly to run such studies. A few thousand dollars would get you properly motivated subjects and the environments needed to conduct the studies. You could say that parties with certain interests will fund certain studies that reinforce their stance on the matter (which has little to do with what is empirically true in terms of consumer behavior). This might have been true at one point. I wouldn't argue that, historically, behavioral economic studies had limited impact on policy and the everyday reality of businesses and consumers. But when the cost of conducting such experiments falls, along with the cost of disseminating transparent results and the cost of duplicating experiments, it becomes harder to propagate a lie about consumer behavior.

I'm not certain of this. Its just a hunch that came to me as I was listening to the candidates' proxies debate (it could've just as easily been telecom lobbyists on one side and NGOs and non-profits on the other). Information on behavior gets out there. People judge whether or not it is accurate, and if the results are really important to them (if they were trying to decide if a de-regulated biotech industry would come up w/ a cure for their cancer any faster than a regulated one), then they won't care about free market or socially conscious ideology. They'll care about accurate predictions and repeatable results. I'm placing my faith in the openness of information and lowering of barriers that the internet allows for. I'm assuming that this openness will somehow prevent politicians and businesspeople from propagating false information about behavior, that openness will make it so hard to maintain a lie that it will be easier to just work harder, honestly, to achieve your goals. People will do so not out of any moral inclination, but just b/c it'll be easier. Perhaps this faith is misplaced, but it seems like the best way to maintain my optimism in this town.

Unions & the Quality of Screenwriting

A thought came to me as I was watching the end of season 3 of The Wire while listening to the director and writer's commentary. The director talks about lens lengths, subtle camera movements, blocking. All of these have effects of on the viewer, ones that they likely can't quite put their fingers on. I certainly wasn't conscious of some of the track-ins that were happening during conversations between two characters, but I bet that, subconsciously, it helped to boost the sense of tension and importance in the scene for me, all the more so b/c The Wire doesn't use the crutch of emotion-directing musical cues. But I couldn't help but think that the camera movements, the lighting, the music (if there were any), the performances, and everything else serve to augment the core of the text - the script. Even though I know that TV and film are collaborative arts, I cannot help but think that the script is the most important element of either medium.

I had a sudden pang of guilt about an earlier entry I wrote about why screenwriters will never get much pay or much respect. I've enjoyed The Wire so much and believe that it will go on to generate hundreds of millions of dollars in DVD, online, and cable syndication revenue; how could I say that its writers weren't entitled to most of that revenue when they created the core of that text?

I still believe what I wrote in that entry: that unlike directors, producers, financiers, cinematographers, agents, and actors, writers do not need a lot of capital to ply their trade. The reason why all the rest of those individuals get paid so much is not b/c they're equally or more responsible for what shows up on screen. Its b/c they need capital and, in the case of agents and producers, connections to practice their trade, to get better at it, and to get anything done in that industry. Capital is rare. Pens and paper (or laptops) are not. Because of that simple economic truth, writers will never get all that much money. There are always more out there.

Of course, there aren't that many George Pelacanoses and David Simons out there. Good writing is rare. But how do you know that one writer is better than another, that one script is better than another?

I'd argue that unions, because they encourage producers and studios to pay flat rates for scripts that have little to do with the number of people that will actually see the movie or the TV show, encourage mediocre writing. Producers would pay writers more if there were some way of knowing what they were paying for.

And what about the David Simons and George Pelaconoses that are just starting out, that could use the support of the unions to make it through the lean years so that they can get the time to write something as good as The Wire? I think that with the storytelling incubator that the internet allows for, either through making low-budget web-series or no-budget blogs publication of scripts (hell, even fanfiction gives scouts an idea of who the good and the bad writers are), financiers will be able to spot the writers who can please large audiences without having to guess, offer them the contracts they deserve, and stop taking bad bets on bad writers. Good writing has always been rare, but b/c financiers had to guess as to what might be popular, they had no incentive to pay them all that much, and unions didn't help by encouraging those financiers to compensate good and bad writers equally based on the misguided premise that today's hack could be tomorrow's Herman J. Mankiewicz. Not anymore.

The Architecture of Serendipity

After watching this provocatively titled vlog about blogs and whether or not they work to limit our viewpoints and fragment our society, I got to thinking about how we might get more evidence to support either of the opposing theories - blogs give us a much wider range of views and help us better understand our fellow humans vs. blogs prompt us to make strong bonds with like-minded individuals and do not prompt us to consider alternate viewpoints.

If we're comparing blogs to older media with its top-down editing and broad audiences, then one key difference between the two is what Cass Sunstein artfully refers to as "the architecture of serendipity." When you see or hear some bit of news or an opinion that you would not have sought out, either b/c its content did not interest you or its point of view conflicted with your own, then you are consuming media serendipitously. This choice of word is a bit misleading, as the arrangement of content in a newspaper or a broadcast is not haphazard. It is designed to be something that the consumer will like enough to keep tuning in, but also to be something that the creator either believes the consumer should know or an unconscious reflection of the creator or, in most mass media cases, the creators.

I think the question at the heart of this is: is there such a thing as too much choice?

And I'm not talking about the excess of choice that paralyzes people and forces them to make lousy decisions. I'm talking about choice that seems to be a prerequisite of individuality, identity, and self realization. We can become individuals because we have options as to how to think and how to act. The more options we have, the more our selves we can become.

This may be our future, but it certainly was never our past. Society pushed back against people's self interests for, well, most of the history of society. If one wants to get Freudian about it, one could say that society acted as our super-ego via mass media and, before that, networks of gossiping locals who subtly or unsubtly expressed approbation through information you really didn't want to hear.

But enough high falutin speculation. How do we put this to the test?

Study 1: two groups provide a list of interests to the media creator. Group 1 is instructed to provide a very general list of topics while group 2 is asked to provide a very specific, exhaustive list that includes topics and opinions about those topics. They are then provided with news feeds that are tailored to their interests. Both groups feel as though they have exercised some choice in the process of consuming media (just as the TV viewer with the remote control and the blog reader both feel as though they choose what to view or read), but group 1 has less control over what they're consuming. In fact, you could have 5 or 10 groups with varying levels of specificity in their lists of interest.

So then, what would you measure after this part of the study, and how would you measure it? What do we fear about blogs or mass media? We use words like "cocooning" and "fragmentation," but what are we really talking about, and how could you measure it? You could measure:

Happiness: do people with more information choice report being happier? Do they act happier? Yes, this would be tough to measure, but psychologists have done it before, I'm sure.

Knowledge: What would probably happen here is that the group with the most choice would have knowledge that was deep but not broad, the group with some choice would have fairly broad and fairly deep knowledge, and the group with little choice would have knowledge that was neither deep nor broad. Is in-depth knowledge better than a broad range of knowledge? No way to tell, but I think we could agree that having both is best.

Open-mindedness: If you had a debate with someone who held a belief opposite of your own, would you just get really angry at them and start yelling, would you adopt some of their beliefs while sticking with some of your own, or would you just roll over and let them convince you of anything?

Social Skills: How well are you able to communicate with someone who is not like you, in terms of what they believe (it would be interesting to see if blogs were different than video blogs in this regard: maybe b/c you can't see who writes a blog, you're more apt to base your similarity judgment solely on stated opinions rather than visible characteristics like race, class, gender, and age).

It seems silly to defend a paternalistic media or society, to think that our happiness, our range and depth of knowledge, our open-mindedness, and our social skills would be better if we submitted to a society that severely restricted our choices. Just because society has always been that way doesn't mean that it always should be that way. But I really think that people instinctively believe that more choice is better and that this notion should be questioned. We have never experienced true self realization. Maybe its not what we think it would be.

I'd wager its a matter of degree. A total reduction of choice would make you feel lousy and make you into an automaton. But is the other extreme any better? It might just make you less open-minded, less able to get along with a lot of other people, and less happy. I bet we could begin to find the answers to these questions with controlled studies of information consumption and blogs.