As with my previous analyses of Rushkov’s “Atmospherics,” Kilbourne’s “Killing Us Softly,” and Bordo’s “Unbearable Weight,” this analysis draws from my own past work, namely a forum post for a university English course. It covers “Always On,” the eighth chapter of Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other.
Turkle wrote Alone Together back in 2011, over a decade ago. As such, many of the ideas she toys with feel slightly dated. That being said, a dialectical analysis involves looking at both past and present, theory and practice.
In fact, many of Turkle’s thoughts can be tied back to Western capitalism and labour relations, many of which have simply worsened as we reach later stages of capitalist society.
Surveillance capitalism and the capitalist work ethic
Turkle begins the chapter by discussing her interviews with “cyborgs” at MIT, who were “always online, free from desks and cables.” Supposedly, “continual connectivity could increase productivity and memory … this technology [is] ‘just a tool’ for being better prepared and organized.”
The idea of always being connected (the main point of this chapter) reminded me immediately of Palantir and other tech corporations, known for their constant, continued surveillance of the citizenry, who themselves often unknowingly consent to these unethical practices.1
The indifference described by the “cyborgs” was almost shocking; Robocop and DC’s Cyborg came to mind, who I can only describe as “forever labourers” under the harmful capitalist work ethic.
On that note, this line stuck out to me:
I check my e-mail first thing in the morning and before going to bed at night.
Unlike those in more heavily unionized countries like France, for instance, North American workers are expected to always be “on call” without reimbursement. Even during supposed “off-hours” or “vacation time,” there is the expectation that workers should be helpful.
“We’re like a family here,” HR departments often say—thereby erasing the hierarchal nature of employment to further exploit the working class. There is, as well, an unspoken requirement to multitask at all times; Turkle describes this as “our twenty-first-century alchemy.”
Ironically, email, and more broadly, any online social space, easily allows for misunderstandings or perceived hostility. Despite this, we still see it as more convenient.
I recall asking an acquaintance to help edit a journal paper I was writing and assumed he was offended by something I wrote; there was a need to clarify that would not have been necessary had the exchange happened in person.
Turkle mentions certain other relational aspects as well, including the insecurity, isolation, and loneliness of American workers and the unrealistic idea of class mobility given the huge—and still growing—wealth disparity between bourgeoisie and proletariat.
Our growing dependence on technologies and AI
Much of Turkle’s discussion can be tied to modern AI use. One of the “cyborgs” Turkle spoke with said:
[Because of my technology], I feel invincible, sociable, better prepared. I am naked without it. With it, I’m a better person.
Westerners are often reliant on external means and capitalist individualism; now, this is typically achieved through the use of, and obsession with, generative AI (GenAI) and large-language models (LLMs) such as ChatGPT and Grok.
Turkle writes of the “constantly-connected” cyborgs:
The multiplicity of worlds before them set them apart: they could be with you, but they were always somewhere else as well.
There are increasingly fewer “deep” human connections in the West; workers use AI to apply to jobs, companies use AI to screen those same resumés, sometimes even using AI to do interviews, and individuals on dating sites use AI to “edit” their prompts and responses or even “date” an AI “companion.”
Similar to the Ship of Theseus thought experiment—when is the human element fully replaced with an AI-generated counterpart? Or, in other words, at what point does outsourcing personal identity (e.g., memory, communication, creativity) change who we are entirely?
Turkle writes that “[we] are all cyborgs now.” We are now in an even more technologically “advanced” world than when this was written, where connection refers more often to the internet than human relationships.
Technology has become a drug; we turn to it as both stimulant and saviour. Both people and ideas are replaced; instead of real-life interaction, there are chatbots, and instead of books, you can ask an LLM to simply summarize a topic.
Human identity existed long before technology, but it is now seen as a cornerstone of “identity exploration.” We have become increasingly alienated by outsourcing our own unique human identities to machines.
Parasociality and the construction of the online self
Previously, I have studied parasocial relations in K-Pop fandoms and have connected it further to the curated profiles on social media platforms.
Turkle writes:
[Our] profile ends up as somebody else—often the fantasy of who we want to be.
Despite the seemingly “closer” connections, social media is itself inherently parasocial; you do not know others as they truly are, but their ideal selves.
This is the same dynamic seen with celebrities and stars, who fans grow “close” to through curated, highly edited content. Social media users do the same thing to a degree—every photo is curated, every video meticulously edited to perfection.
Turkle also notes the evolution of communal spaces into spaces of social collection, mirroring Rushkov’s analysis of shopping malls and normalized surveillance under capitalism.
Keep writing theoretical stuff! Well done!