Communal Principles in Arts, Crafts, & Technology
October 15, 2017 § 2 Comments
In 2012 Google premiered a commercial failure called Glass. The wearable eye-glass computer sought to seamlessly merge together life and technology as indicated in the advertisement demo below.
This ad speculates how Glass could have shaped the everyday lives of urban dwellers—allowing them to more easily schedule their days through voice activation software, know the weather forecast by simply looking out the window, navigate the city and its bookstores (despite obvious signage for where the genres are located—lazy bum!), keep track on how close their friends are nearby, and achieve peak hipsterdom by impressing others with their minimal ukulele skills. Upon its arrival, Glass was swiftly met with criticism. From its ugly, cumbersome design to its creepy apps that allow the user to take a photograph by winking or identify strangers just by looking at them, Google Glass became immediately embroiled in debates on utility and privacy. Its costly price of $1500 also didn’t inspire many consumers to line up at the stores. In 2015 Google announced its discontinuation, then revived it in 2017 as a tool to aid factory workers. Regardless of this niche usage today, however, Google Glass’s failed legacy in the public domain expresses current human needs for distinctions between everyday life, technology, and labor. These may occasionally overlap, but a person’s desire to break apart this chain of activities failed to be considered by Google’s tech team.
Such distinctions for the orders of social life were similarly interrogated in the late nineteenth century. In an era of growing distrust in machines and industrial capitalism, the Arts and Crafts movement arose to critique its contemporary moment. Rejecting machine-driven precision and mass-produced commercialism, William Morris and his company of craftsmen emphasized instead natural, rhythmic aesthetics based on floral and organic shapes of the natural environment. These functional, hand-made objects of exquisite intricacy were put in sharp contrast to the stark styles of industrial urbanism and the grim depictions of realist art. Based on the assumption that workers in factory systems were becoming severed from the earth and alienated from their own human nature, Morris advocated for a unification of art, life, and labor in the service to society. In essence, Morris believed that creating and being surrounded by beautiful wallpaper, bedding, chairs, etc. could uplift the spirit of the masses. Furthermore, by beautifying the everyday and quotidian, Morris thought that humans would be able to relearn their relationship with the natural world and nourish the foundations for a more just community. His vision for this future was likewise articulated in his 1890 utopian romance News from Nowhere or an Epoch of Rest.
In this text, the narrator William Guest inexplicably wakes up in a communist future where private property is abolished, gender and class equality have seemingly been met, and both life and work coexist as extensions of pleasure. Everyone is also really really pretty. Their beauty is so intoxicating for the narrator that even the persistently “sunburnt face” (179) of his love interest Ellen does not give him pause (or raise concerns about a potentially untreated skin cancer). Morris’s assumptions that a person’s daily immersion within attractive gardens and buildings could be edifying thus extend to a very transformation of the human appearance itself. But more crucially, the function of beauty and nature in Morris’s novel is to create a more harmonious community.
These art and social theories are put into practice throughout the novel as the narrator freely wanders the landscapes of England alongside his “neighbors” and encounters the incredible freedoms now allowed. Yet although the “art of work-pleasure” (160)—that unification of art, life, and labor—foregrounds the daily activities of Nowhere’s inhabitants, technology remains in distinct and separate spheres. Men and women may be able to work together now, but machines must be kept elsewhere doing the tedious labors that humans do not want to perform any longer. This separation of labor allows for a closer connection with the natural environment for Nowhere’s human community, but what is peculiar about this development is that the people must relearn how to work in the fields and create crafts from these very industrial machines (199). As such, a return to a communally-oriented human nature within the environment depends on the service and then subsequent displacement of technology.
Can today’s technology in our post-industrial age educate us toward similar tasks? It seems difficult to think so, especially considering the ways in which capital, commercialism, and technology have all led to the environmental catastrophes we now face. Perhaps, however, there is still a utopic underpinning in the design of technology itself and its ability to cultivate a community, even if such a community may be based on one’s ties to a consumer product. This utopic promise has been most notably expressed by Apple, leading one critic to even call Steve Jobs the William Morris of our time for his insistence on uniting user-friendly function with pleasurable aesthetic design—not to mention that organic eponymous logo.
In contrast to Google Glass’s affluent hipster dude, Apple often advertises its products for their ability to bring people together from a variety of cultural backgrounds. Consider this year’s iPhone 7 commercials below.
On the one hand, these advertisements demonstrate the interests of capitalism to reach as many diverse and global locales as possible. On the other hand, though, these commercials may be read for their thematic concerns, which hold similarities to the utopian romance News from Nowhere. What we see in these ads are expressions of joy in labor, beauty, travel, leisure, and love. These expressions are indeed necessitated by a capitalist undertaking to sell these products, but the cultural imagination of these ads also suggest the ways in which technology, like nature, may germinate goodwill. Technology may have largely supplanted nature today, yet one thing is clear: the hope in a benevolent human community remains unyielding.
Morris, William. News from Nowhere and Other Writings. Penguin Classics, 2004.