An Ethics of Seeing

What sort of viewer am I to become? I pose this teleological question to myself so as to consider my responsibilities as a consumer of various media.

What owns me? What possesses me to login to Facebook several times daily; to follow my friends on Twitter, Tumblr, Blogger; to read the Seattle Times and the Onion; to turn the radio dial to NPR, or community public radio, or (in my weaker moments?) to Movin’ 92.5 to fill my earholes with a litany of pop hits from the 80’s, 90’s, and 00’s? What motivates me to go to the independent coffee shop over the Starbucks, to inhale several hours of reality television weekly as well as read scholarly texts for school, to walk through the transient-filled city park on my way to work … why do I choose to walk to work in the first place?

I am surrounded by images and messages purporting consumerist values—sometimes quite explicitly—which in essence demand I cultivate “an ethics of seeing,” as literary theorist Susan Sontag has written. As a viewer of media, a consumer of a wide range of texts such as film, architecture, clothing, ideas, etc., it is pertinent that I attempt to articulate my consumer morals. Here comes the million dollar word: discernment. The Jesuit Michael Paul Gallagher suggests that “discernment specializes in unmasking illusion and in offering skills for a deeper wisdom of judging reality.” Exploring my consumer morals by developing an ethics of viewing things as they really are bids me to peel back the layers of misinformation and to critically imbibe communicated texts. This necessarily entails deciding between what is worthwhile and what is more worthwhile in regards to the music I listen to, the news I seek out, and the concepts I integrate into my imagination. I expect that practicing “responsible consumerism” will nudge me towards finding greater satisfaction in the items I do choose to view, as well as give me better reason to abstain from blindly eating up the messages the Internet, newspapers, and buildings in my neighborhood feed me.




What does the ethical viewer look like? Well, I’m not sure. However, this Lenten season, I am abstaining from all aforementioned social networks (I even refrained from tweeting about this “digicleanse” on my Twitter account). This is in addition of course to taking up habits of betterment, such as meditation and almsgiving. This is also in addition to abstaining from the Lenten “usuals,” meaning fasting from meat on Ash Wednesday and Fridays. By abstaining from Facebook and Twitter, I hope to more clearly see the role of these social networks in my life and to critically examine what ethical questions might arise. We humans live in a symbolic world shaped by the images and media values we take in, whether these are intentional feasts or publicly force-fed to us. I want to creatively challenge consumerist values by critically interpreting the media through which I view the world, myself and others. If using Facebook is a practice through which individuals (including myself) and communities make meaning of the world, then my Facebook fast has spiritual implications. What is my experience of Facebook as either a participant or a conscientious abstainer? I guess I’ll chew on this.



RESOURCES:

See the works cited in my first blog entry. Also:

Landis Barnhill, David. “Good Work: An Engaged Buddhist Response to the Dilemmas of Consumerism” from Buddhist-Christian Studies, Vol. 24 (2004), pp. 55-63.

Nash, Jo. “Mutant Spiritualities in a Secular Age: The 'Fasting Body' and the Hunger for Pure Immanence” from the Journal of Religion and Health, Vol. 45, No. 3 (Fall, 2006), pp. 310-327.