Goggin G. Cell Phone Culture. Mobile Technology in Everyday Life. L., N.Y., 2006

 

Ch. 4. Txt msg: the rise and rise of messaging cultures (pp. 65-88)

 

The story [of SMS] has a slight resemblance to those of the Norwegian fairy tale character Askeladden, who picks up all kinds of items that he encounters given the presumption that it may come to use some day. In the adventure they always do, resulting in a massive success.

(Trosby 2004: 192)

 

When they had the campaign that allowed you to send SMS for two cents a piece, we pretty much sat there all day with the mobile and probably sent a few hundred messages in all . . . For three or four hours we just sat on the bed sending messages to one another.

(Sanna, Finnish fourteen-year-old, quoted in Kasesniemi 2003: 21)

 

Texting in the Philippines is transforming conventional fairytales. Not unlike a Cinderella-themed narrative: the ballroom can be conceived as cyberspace, where instead of dancing, Cinderella and the Prince text one another. The fit of the glass slipper can be compared to text skill. The fairy godmother can be envisioned as technology; the evil step-mother, the cost of pre-paid calling cards; and the three evil step-sisters: a stolen phone, a faulty SIM card, and no signal.

(Elwood-Clayton 2003: 23S)

 

So far I have focused on the production of cell phone culture, considering narraнtives of its early history, especially as a portable voice telephony artefact, and then reviewing, in chapter 3, how influential corporations, in particular Nokia and Vodafone, made important contributions through their ideas of use, branding, and advertising. In this chapter, I wish to turn to another, interlinked aspect of the circuit of culture', cell phone culture Ч namely consumption.

To explore consumption and cell phone culture, I turn to a celebrated, almost proverbial episode : text messaging. There has been much fascination in studying, cataloguing, and debating the varieties and intricacies of text messaging, and how it has modified social, media, and cultural practices. Rather than repeating this

work here, or drawing on new, empirical work, my intention is interpretative.

 

What I wish to do is to attempt a history, or perhaps a historiography, of text messaging, to gain insights into its place in cell phone culture. Text messaging is not only an intriguing case study in cultural consumption and user experimenta tion, as we shall find out later; what it signifies for cell phone culture is at the heart of much public and commercial disquiet and contention about the future of mobile media.

 

Doing the history of text messaging

Text messaging has been the subject of much animated debate and study, including two book-length collections (Glotz and Bertschi 2005; Harper, Palen, and Taylor 2005), but I have been able to find only one scholarly account of SMS history (Taylor and Vincent 2005). As I have already mentioned, there are many difficulнties at this relatively early moment in doing the history of cell phones, let alone text messaging. Nonetheless, thinking about the development of text messaging provides an occasion to think about how such history might be done. What I would like to draw upon here is the influential approach to understanding the itineraries and adventures of technology offered by actor-network theory, which not only offers many challenges to traditional theories of technology, as I sugнgested in chapter 1, but also opens up new historical and cultural-theoretical approaches.

 

Textual beginnings

Txt msg ws an acidnt. no 1 expeted it. Whn the 1st txt msg ws sent, in 1993 by Nokia eng stdnt Riku Pihkonen, the telcom cpnies thought it ws nt important. SMS - Short Message Service - ws nt considrd a majr pt of GSM. Like mny teks, the *pwr* of txt - indeed, the *pwr* of the fon - wz discovrd by users. In the case of txt mssng, the usrs were the yng or poor in the W and E. (Agar 2003: 105)

 

As Jon Agar notes, text messaging was considered to be something of a minor service (Agar 2003). However, this insight is more complicated than it appears. Certainly at the start, technology designers, manufacturers, and cell phone comнpanies had been preoccupied with transferring telephone capabilities and culture to the cell phone platform. The development of the first-generation analogue cell phone transmission systems around the world is evidence of this. However, espeнcially in the move to develop digital transmission systems for the cell phone, and standards that would embody these and promote common technologies, as well as in anticipating their implementation, consideration had been given to the data transmission capabilities of cell phones. With the growth of data communications from the 1960s onwards - and the use of modems over telecommunications networks, the dawning of the Internet, not to mention telex, videotext, teletext, and fax services - data services over cellular and wireless technologies were of some interest (there is a historical parallel here too, of course, given that wireless telegraphy was a precursor data service to its cellular radio antecedents).

In telecommunications, among the most robust and perhaps best-engineered forms of data services were those associated with the Integrated Services Digital Network (ISDN). The ISDN system involved a dedicated digital network that provided data as well as voice channels on the same subscriber line - something not possible again in a widespread manner until voice over Internet protocol started to become widely used over broadband connections. At a certain stage ISDN was seen as the natural progression path for telecommunications networks (for example Dorros 1987), but owing to the typical pricing policies in the 1980s and early to mid 1990s still shaped by older telco culture and slow to change (cf. ACCC 1998), as well as the fast emerging mix of alternative technologies (not least the Internet, faster modems for dial-up connections, then broadband) (ASTEC 1995), ISDN (often archly referred to as 'ft Still Doesn't Nothing', failedа in most countries to move beyond its base of business clients to domestic cusнtomers. Given the prominence of ISDN in telecommunications circles, it was unsurprising that it was contemplated in early visions of GSM. In the list of basic requirements for GSM services in the first action plan in December 1982, it was stipulated that the 'services and facilities offered in the public switched telephone networks and the public data networks . . . should be available in the mobile system' (Hillebrand 2001c: 264). In 198S, however, a concept for data and other services was agreed that borrowed important structural elements from ISDN, yet recognised that 'GSM is not a mobile ISDN' (2001c: 266). Although there were some who supported GSM having data capabilities and channels akin to ISDN, the difficulty faced was that there was neither capacity in the system nor the means to gain the relevant efficiency needed from the scarce spectrum. ISDN was also a more stable service, as customers were just connected to one fixed line in their telecommunications carrier's network as opposed to the emerging issues in mobile telephony with the need for roaming in other countries and services provided by a range of competing providers.

 

Instead of fully encompassing data, GSM was optimised for telephony, rememнbering that one of the abiding issues in the 1982Ч5 period was the transition for cellular phones from having their natural place in vehicles to becoming hand-held. Those participating in the standards-setting judged it was feasible to envisage a range of data services with data rates up to 9.6 kbs, a level that expectations quickly exceeded. Such data services, for the 'mobile office' (Hillebrand 2001c: 266) were what are termed circuit-switched (the fundamental, historical mode of telephone networks) rather than packet-switched (for a succinct primer on this distinction pivotal to Internet technologies, see Clarke 2004). With these constraints in mind, what was proposed was short message transmission:

 

GSM was seen at that time as a car telephony system (the discussion on the viability of hand portables in the same network was still ongoing). So a typical application scenario was a plumber or other technician doing some repair work in the customer's home could receive short messages in his car waiting in front of the home. Another scenario was to enable a user to receive a short notice while he was engaged on a call.

(Hillebrand 2001c: 266)

 

Ironically, because of its technical characteristics, SMS 'can be seen as the first packet switched service' in GSM (2001c: 266), and so a harbinger of what was to lie ahead in the transformations of the mobile Internet and media. SMS comprised three services: a message sent from a handset by someone ('mobile originated'), a message received on a handset by someone ('mobile terminated') and a message sent to many handsets ('point to multipoint'). This latter service, also newly created for GSM, was also called 'cell broadcast', a service 'somewhat similar to teletext on television, where a series of information messages can be sent to users, based on their location' (Cox 2001: 289).2

Within the European consortium developing the GSM specifications, Norweнgian engineer Finn Trosby was entrusted with the responsibility of convening a 'Drafting Group on Message Handling'. This group produced a draft specification

in November 1978, which set out key elements of the services, the network architecture, protocols, principles for routing of messages, and how the dedicated SMS handling service centre would work (Hillebrand 2001d: 413-14). One of the most important facets of SMS set in this phase was that SMS would be a store-and-forward service, analogous to email or the postal service. Also owing to the specifications of the transmission and priorities accorded to SMS, they could be transmitted to mobile stations in idle mode or involved in a call' (2001d: 414).

While the work in this period was crucial and, according to GSM historian Hillebrand, formed the 'basis of the tremendous success in the market' (Hillebrand 2001d: 414), it is important to note signal omissions and exclusions. Take, for instance, the possibility of sending and receiving SMS via not only cell phones but also fixed line phones too, something that is now being slowly introнduced. Hillebrand laments that:

 

I tried to interest the ISDN community to work with us on a compatible SMS service in the ISDN. This would have provided a standardised access to and from ISDN users. But the initiatives did not fall on fertile ground. Therefore theа SMSа did not provideа aа standardа for theа accessа fromа andа toа fixed

subscribers. (Hillebrand 2001d: 414)

 

In contrast the composing and communication of SMS from an external keyboard and display (such as a computer screen) was developed in phase two of GSM, and implemented in 1994-5 (Holley 2001: 420). In 1992-3 a number of important 'advanced enhancements to SMS' were devised and incorporated, such as 'immediate display messages';3 the use of SMS to allow voicemail messages to be sent to the user; and data storage improvements (Holley 2001: 420Ч1). The awkwardness and laboriousness of using keyboards was something that received much attention at about this time, especially through the introduction of keyнboards with more characters as well as predictive text-entry systems (Taylor and Vincent 2005:78).

The salient aspect of SMS is, of course, its famous terseness, both a constraint but a fabulous spur to communication. Early on, SMS was conceived as having a maximum message length of 128 octets (an octet is a byte of eight binary digits usually regarded as an entity) (Hillebrand 2001d: 408). By 1987-8 180 octets was possible but 160 was agreed upon (2001d: 414). In 1994 the possible length of a message was extended by allowing long messages to be split across a number of SMS (called SMS concatenation). This allowed SMS to be, theoretically at least, up to 255 segments of 150 or so characters', though using this full capability Would be expensive so smaller groups of messages were thought more likely, as when Nokia introduced its picture messaging based on SMS concatenation in 1998'аа (Holleyаа 2001:а 421).а Toа createа furtherа space,аа SMSа compression was attempted from 1996 onwards. Finally, with the growing interest in ringtones and other sounds and images over cell phones, SMS was enhanced so as to deliver these multimedia in a message.

 

A defining element of digital textual communication is what languages are able to be represented. This matter has been widely discussed in relation to the Internet, especially when the basic code for email, American Standard Code for Information Interchange (ASCII), held sway (see, for instance, Nolan 2004), and has important implications for cell phones also. Holley notes that:

 

the original SMS character was based on the set proposed for the European paging system . . . supposed to provide for the majority of European charнacters, including uppercase Greek characters, however it didn't include several characters needed in Eastern Europe, and even omitted some Northern Euroнpean characters. Coupling that with the expansion of GSM into the middle east and far east, it was clear that some major enhancement was needed. (Holley 2001:421-2)

 

After much debate in the 1993Ч5 period, the solution adopted was a character set used for Unicode. This way forward did have its own limitations: 'This character set allows transmission of the vast majority of characters in the world but of course uses more than twice the space of the original GSM set' (Holley 2001: 422).

A short but rich reflection upon the making of SMS is told by Finn Trosby, who was introduced earlier for his key role in devising the technology. Trosby begins by noting, bathetically, that:

the reason for writing an article on 'the birth of SMS' is not to reveal a 15 year old story about huge achievements in terms of complex protocols and chalнlenging combinations of radio, data and network design . . . The SMS ... is definitely one of the simplest compounds of the GSM system. (2004: 187).

 

Rather for Trosby:

SMS is a story about innovation. SMS was indeed a true newcomer . . . SMS . . . was an extremely simple messaging service tailor-made for GSM . . . The major part of the GSM community expected the circuit switched data and fax services to be the most important non-voice services, and SMS to be more like an add-on that might increase the attraction of the GSM system without any commercial significance. The years to come proved it to be the other way round. (2004: 187)

а

Trosby summarises the merits and flaws of the design - the simplicity and use of available 'in-house' capabilities of SMS, for instance, versus lack of forethought of envisaging and designing for future possibilities such as group chat or message templates.

After acknowledging various individuals for their respective roles in SMS development, he tells a fairytale as a way to address the '[t]ricky part: what can we learn from the SMS adventure, if anything at all?':

 

The story [of SMS] has a slight resemblance to those of the Norwegian fairy tale character Askeladden, who picks up all kinds of items that he encounters given the presumption that it may come to use some day. In the adventure diey always do, resulting in a massive success. (2004: 192)

 

This bricoleur approach is quite different from what is possible later on:

 

Trying to imagine the same situation today, it is not hard to imagine the average modern executive immediately tearing the SMS concept . . . into pieces. 'When there is no extensive and convincing text of market analysis, there should be no further transfer to a lengthy and costly design and production process.' (2004: 193).

 

To amplify this point, Trosby compares SMS with a number of other potential similar technologies:

 

The strange thing is that if one imagines the modern product development filtering on all other services than SMS, they might have passed the checkpoint procedures without difficulties. The speech service was a banker, no one doubted that there was a substantial potential of migrating telephony from the fixed to the mobile networks. The fax service also had a high standing: fax had been a popular service in the fixed networks for years! The circuit switched data service also had its fixed network parallels that made perspectives of a high usage probable. Thus, for all three services it would have been fairly easy to produce convincing arguments in the context of today's product developнment forums why they should all be profitable. In this way, we can very well envisage a situation where the methods of today would have accepted fax and circuit switched data Ч the failures Ч and discarded SMS Ч the success! (2004: 193)

 

At the time in which he writes his history, Trosby is painfully aware of the new, determining context of telecommunications reforms Ч the 'huge paradigm shift in the business of telecommunications: leaving the age of monopolies and entering the age of the liberalised markets' (2004: 194). He contends that 'previous telcos could afford that luxury' of allowing the technique of a 'hunch':

 

'Hunch' is what you get when Ч in between the tightly scheduled tasks of today's demands Ч you are allowed to stray into areas of terra incognita without almost any other purpose but to explore . . . today's chatting crowd can be happy that the GSM system definition phase occurred well within the era of the previous regime. (2004: 194)

 

Trosby's narrative of SMS is only one, among many, and it recalls a particular vantage-point of a classic technical and scientific scene of innovation, in the relatively early phase of SMS development in the 1987Ч90 period. It is revealing of the creative and improvisatory thinking and action in which engineers and scientists engage, and other actors in technology also, but also reminds of the importance of attending closely to the accounts and actions of such agents.

 

Finding uses for SMS: Nordic writing

I have recounted in some detail the originary scene of SMS in a setting that is customary and familiar, namely that of standards-setting collaborations and institutions, peopled by engineering, working with each other, and seeking to understand and imagine the uses and users, and markets, of a new technological system, and implement optimum solutions. Much of this work though available in the technical literatures has not been widely acknowledged in, or articulated with, studies of the social and cultural bearings of the cell phone. To pursue such an object, I wish to delve at some length into the histories of how users were enlisted, or enrolled themselves, into text messaging.

At the stage when SMS only had 160 characters, in limited languages and character sets, there were additional constraints from mostly only having small keys as input devices, and rudimentary typeface displays on evolving screens. SMS was a store-and-forward technology, then and still offering poor quality of service or assurances of receipt of message. Reception permitting, an SMS is sent from a handset to a dedicated server in the network, and from there is despatched to the intended receiver. Assuming the receiver's handset is within range, the SMS can be received relatively quickly, within seconds. If either sender's or receiver's handset is not in range or turned on, the network is programmed to try again to send the SMS (for a pre-set duration, typically seven days). All the reassurance a sender can receive is that the SMS has actually been despatched from the handset to the network, not, however, that the message has in fact been successfully received by the addressee.

 

Two accounts would appear to be commonly circulated about the first SMS message ever sent. A young Nokia engineer is credited (according to Agar 2003), or it is thought that the first message was sent in Britain (according to sources on theаа Internet; also the source of Rheingold's claim that the 'first text message was

sent in December 1992 in the United Kingdom' (Rheingold 2002: 15). Whether these claims are accurate or not, initial commercial visions of SMS were limited and aimed at business users:

 

[I]ts broad-based appeal was initially as a unidirectional system for sending 'mobile terminated' messages to customers, such as voice mail notifications. Early SMS campaigns to promote the delivery as well as receipt of messages, rare as they were, almost exclusively targeted at business users and positioned the service as a second-rate add-on to voice transmissions . . . the industry was caught largely off guard by the upsurge in SMS usage (particularly among young non-professionals). (Taylor and Vincent 2005: 79)

 

To illustrate the attitude at this time, Taylor and Vincent quote a 1990 marketing brochure from the then network of GSM operator suggesting that generally a user would make a voice call to an operator who would then type in a text message for despatch (2005: 79Ч80) Ч clearly conceiving SMS on the model of existing paging services. Despite the limitations, or rather because of the constraints,5 of these human and non-human factors shaping SMS, what emerged in many countries andа subculturesа wasаа aа richа ensembleаа of one-to-one,аа orаа one-to-many,а text communications.

The first widespread takeup of text messaging is identified with the Nordic countries, especially Finland ('Nokia land') as Eija-Lisa Kasesniemi wonderfully documents in her 2003 Mobile Messages, still the most comprehensive study of text messaging cultures (and indeed of GSM cultures). In 1995, an interconnect agreement was signed between the two main mobile operators in Finland, allowнing users to send SMS between networks. As occurred elsewhere, this connectivнity was a precondition of widespread use, and the SMS boom then occurred in 1998:

Instead of delivering certain predetermined types of information, the mesнsages became communication for all and their contents came to deal with everyday life: 'Your basic, everyday messaging. Boring actually', said 15-year-old Maaret of her messages. (Kasesniemi 2003: 161)

 

In 2000, nearly 1 billion text messages were sent in Finland, a country with a Population of only 5 million (Kasesniemi and Rautiainen 2002: 170). Kasesniemi and Rautiainen suggest that text messaging 'captured the interest of the youngest generation of Finns in 1998 and 'like TV and the Internet, has established itself as part of the adolescents' everyday life as a teenager' (2002: 171). They found that suddenly 'instead of talking about calling and changing color covers on their cell phones, all teenagers wanted to give their views on text messaging' (172). Very quickly then a culture of text messaging formed, with its ownа 'terminology customs and social norms' (177). Kasesniemi and Rautiainen noted the developнment of vocabulary to describe unique features of text messaging culture, and they also noted this culture 'grows out of the unique circumstances of teenage life': 'The contents of the messages exchanged by teenagers range from contraнception to death. Teens send messages on weekdays to ask for help with homeнwork, and on Fridays they use SMS to locate friends, find dates or purchase alcohol' (2002: 177). Among the cultural practices they document are circulation of chain messages, and collective reading and composition (177). Also one issue in text messaging culture was the relative evanescence of messages. The early cell phones with text message capability had little memory in either the handset or the SIM card to store and retrieve messages.а Until the widespread availability of protocols such as the wireless Bluetooth standard, that allowed phones to connect to other storage devices (such as computers, or memory cards) or printers, phone users could not easily print out or store messages. Many resorted, therefore, to copying cherished messages by long-hand writing:

 

While some teens retain the most important messages on their cell phones, others have begun a movement to counter the perishable quality of text messages. Many teens copy their messages into calendars, diaries or special notebooks designed for collecting SMS messages. This practice of message collecting is an important part of text messaging culture. (2002: 178)

 

As the Finnish example shows, one of the reasons young people took to texting was a tactic of consolidating and shaping their own shared culture, in distinction from the general culture dominated by their parents and other adults. Texting became involved in a wider reworking of youth culture, involving other new media forms and technologies and cultural developments. Moreover, as Kasesniemi concludes, 'teenagers have been the pioneers of text messaging in Finland' (2003: 161) Ч something diat became commonplace of messaging cultures elsewhere.

 

'Text capital of the world'

By 1999Ч2000, text messaging had been adopted in a number of countries, especially by young people as we have seen in the cases of pioneering uses in the Nordic countries. Texting quickly become implicated in the shaping and transformation of gender and sexual identities and practices. I want to turn now from the European, 'hyper-developed world' (Suchman 2002) to Asia, and the case of another country in which texting was widely and quickly taken up, and much remarked upon as a major part of cell phone use: the Philippines. The diffusion of the cell phone in the Philippines has been very rapid:

 

The cell phone has joined earlier commodities such as radio and television in most Filipino homes. But the mobile phone has achieved this level of penetraнtion much faster than was the case for radio and television . . . Compared to other domestic goods, the mobile phone has enjoyed the quickest rate of diffusion in Philippine households. Cell phone ownership is becoming a major index of modernity and the basis for a new form of inequality. (Pertierra 2005a; see also Pertierra 2002 and 2003)

 

Although statistics on texting are difficult to verify, it is often claimed that usage in the Philippines far outstrips that of other countries, as, for instance, in this representative statement: 'Presently Filipinos send over 200 million texts daily, about 10 texts per user. This contrasts with Europeans who send about 3 texts daily' (Pertierra 2005a; cf. Ling 2004).

One of the reasons that texting became popular in the Philippines, as elseнwhere, was its perceived affordability. Also it was experienced as relatively more reliable compared to expensive, poor-quality, fixed-line networks, not to mention problems with drop-outs and coverage of mobile voice telephony (Strom 2002). The irony of the perceived affordability is, in the Philippines as elsewhere, that, relatively low-income users elect to pay significant proportions of their income on texting and cell phone, compared to other household goods (Elwood-Clayton 2005: 200). Indeed the whole issue of cost and affordability is a very complex one, and great care needs to be taken with citing cost as a factor in the take-up of text messaging. It is now recognized that the phenomenon of poor and low-income users choosing a cell phone over other commodities or communication technoloнgies is something that requires study (Donner 2003, 2005; Elwood-Clayton 2005: 200), and probably has not received the attention it has merited owing to the focus and location of mobile scholars in first-world, richer countries as well as the construction of poor countries as suffering a 'deficit', or being located on the other side of the 'digital divide', so that their communication and media patterns and choices have not been explored.

With this provision in mind, we can discern important cultural reasons for the salience of text messaging in the Philippines:

 

The Philippines is primarily an oral society and speech is often used to maintain and reproduce traditional hierarchies . . . Texting combines the informality of speech with the reflectiveness of writing. Informants claim that it is easier to express certain aspects of themselves by texting than through direct speech. They feel more in control. But they are also less sure рbout the effects of their messaging. Many see texting as an opportunity for fun and even deception. Hence, this medium lends itself to exploring new relationships and topics. (Pertierra et al. 2002: ch. 7)

 

An intriguing feature of texting in the Philippines is the availability and consumpнtion of text manuals: 'Copious numbers of text how-to-books are sold in the bookstores . . . "Text to Text", "Ring Tones and Grafix", "The Lord is my Text-mate" ' (Elwood-Clayton 200S: 196). These guides on appropriate language phrasing and diction, as well as how texting is best and properly used, and how it fits into contemporary manners and mores, are prevalent in a number of other societies as well, such as China (as Angel Lin's reading of SMS manuals sold to migrant workers in China has shown, see Lin 2005c) and also Indonesia (Barendregt 2005).

 

One of these new areas which texting is opening up is sexuality:

It is safe to say that texting is contributing significantly to the public emerнgence of a sexual subject, hitherto limited to a private discourse [with sexual jokes and messages]. Texting has also expanded the scope of social relationнships, making it possible to include strangers [as in the case of using cell phones to flirt and conduct affairs]. (Pertierra et al. 2002: ch. 7)

 

Elwood-Clayton has expanded on the 'virtual strangers' theme to show that 'texting was uprooting traditional courtship, [had] re-integrated matchmaking into society, and had the potential to subvert traditional gender ideologies in the domain of young love' (2003: 226). Elwood-Clayton's most interesting findings relate to a topic now widely debated in cell phone culture: technology, gender, and agency. While noting the strong influence of traditional gendered rules of romance, especially for young women, she suggests that:

 

As texting is clandestine by nature, it enables secret dialogue away from parental eyes and provides a means of expression where young women do not have to adhere to traditional rules of gender conduct. Texting provides a site where young woman can choose alternative strategies and experiment with romantic agency without the stigmatization that is often associated with sexual proactivity. (2003: 234)

 

In a latter study Elwood-Clayton delves into the 'dark side of SMS: hostilities in cyberspaceа among intimates',а something brought about becauseа of the new expectations SMS elicits among its users 'whereby friends' expectations of each others'аа accessibilityа increases,а and inа which loversа attempt toа monitorа one another' (2005: 196). In particular she argues that 'texting in the Filipino context is often a form of artillery in personal combats and can, in fact, propel and increase preil among social actors, at times manifesting in different forms of trouble and/or /symbolic) violence' (2005: 196Ч7). In light of these patterns of use, she proposes an addendum to her contemporary urban legend about texting Cinderella:

 

we could see how easy it would be for one sister to sabotage Cinderella's chance with the Prince (by perhaps stealing his cell phone and telling the prince she no longer loved him and to not text him again). Or perhaps the Prince, after winning his sweet Cinderella, would get bored and begin initiating anonymous text relationships with other women. (2005: 217)

 

There is much more to be said about text messaging in the Philippines, and it will be interesting to see what its various 'careers' and trajectories become, settling down into patterns alongside other old and new media and communications. What I wish to turn to now, however, is the way that text messaging in the Philippines became synonymous with activism and the use of cell phones for new ways for people to form groups and organize: in short, the power of the cell phone to create new forms of collective activity, whether crowds, mobs, or publics.

 

Coup d'text

Howard Rheingold's 2002 book Smart Mobs has been widely discussed for its vision of social revolution and new technologies. Rheingold sees text messaging as the harbinger of such new, powerful forms of collectivity, studying emergent uses around the world. Significantly the chapter of his book devoted to 'Smart mobs: the power of the mobile many' opens with a recounting of the celebrated overнthrow of President Joseph Estrada of the Philippines in January 2001:

President Joseph Estrada of the Philippines became the first head of state in history to lose power to a smart mob. More than 1 million Manila residents, mobilized and coordinated by waves of text messages, assembled at the site of the 1986 'People Power' peaceful demonstrations that had topped the Marcos regime. Tens of thousands of Filipinos converged on Epifanio de los Santos Avenue, known as 'Edsa,' within an hour of the first text message volleys: 'Go 2EDSA, Wear blck.' Over four days, more than a million citizens showed up, mostly dressed in black. Estrada fell. The legend of' Generation Txt' was born. (Rheingold 2002: 157-8)

 

Rheingold is careful to emphasise the social as much as technical nature of this revolution, yet still sees such developments, if rather ineffably, as leading to 'smart mobs':

 

Smart mobs are an unpredictable but at least partially describable emergent property that I see surfacing as more people use mobile telephone, more chips communicate with each other, more computers know where they are located, more technology becomes wearable, more people start using these new media to invent new forms of sex, commerce, entertainment communion, and, as always, conflict. (2002: 182)

 

As his earlier, prescient book Virtual Community (Rheingold 1993) did for the Internet, so Smart Mobs has compellingly fused and circulated a set of ideas about cell phones and their successor pervasive, wearable and mobile technologies, something I will touch upon in my discussion of moblogging in chapter 8. For the present, I wish to return to the matter of mobs and messaging in the Philippines. The received view of the overthrow of the Estrada government is summed up in a remark attributed to Estrada himself: 'I was ousted by a coup d'text':

 

It is commonly assumed that the mobile phone plaved a crucial role in EDSA2. Even its main victim, ex-President Joseph Estrada, seems to agree . . . What better imprimatur could one obtain for the importance of the cellphone Ч via text messaging and voice calls Ч in People Power 2? (Pertierra et al. 2002: ch. 6)

 

The text-toppling of Estrada is typically attributed to 'Generation Txt' Ч to the pivotal role played by text messaging and the new social category which marks it (apparently Generation Txt was 'first used as an advertising gimmick by cell phone providers to attract young users to their products'; see Rafael 2003: 407ff). The most detailed important study of text messaging and subjectivity in the Philippines questions the overriding role of the cell phone in the Estrada overнthrow. Indeed as Pertierra et al. observe, in fact the 'coup d'text' phrase had probably come to Estrada's notice from the many text jokes circulating through this period (2002: ch. 6). Reviewing accounts of the events, as well as conducting interviews with participants, they offer a different account of the Estrada coup Ч something worth noting for our understanding of the development of text messaging. In early accounts of the link between the cellphone and the uprising, they discern a 'utopian vision of the mobile phone that is characteristic of "discourses of sublime technology" ':

 

It focuses squarely on the mobile phone, and ignores the people who used it.

Moreover it strips the Filipinos who struggled against the Estrada governнment of their agency and gives it to the cellphone. Thus the technology is said to possess a mysterious force, called 'Text Power' ... it is the technology that does things Ч makes things happen Ч not the people who use it. (Pertierra et al. 2002: ch. 6)

 

The rhetoric of the technological sublime reappears a year late in an advertiseнment for the company Smart Communications, featuring an image of a cell phone screen with the assembled crowd during the crisis, under the caption 'Congratulaнtions to the Filipino people for spreading and heeding the cry for truth!' (2002: ch. 6). Given the recrudescence of the technological sublime in digital media (on which see Bailey 200S; Mosco 2004; Nye 1994; Tabbi 1995), the detailed examinнation of precise details and forms of agency and co-ordination using cell phones is most instructive. Pertierra et al. find, for instance, that

the cell phone did play an important role in EDSA2 [that is, the downfall of Estrada]. That role, however, was not the one for which it has usually been praised in the media since the event Ч namely, that of crowd-drawer par excellence . . . less than half of our survey respondents who took part in People Power 2 noted that text messaging influenced them to go. If people did attend, it was because they were persuaded to by an ensemble of other reasons. (2002: ch. 6)

 

The significance of the cell phone in the demonstrations lay elsewhere:

firstly, in the way it helped join people who disapproved of Pres. Estrada in a network of complex connectivity . . . Secondly, the mobile phone was instrumental as an organizational device ... In the hands of activists and powerbrokers from politics, the military, business groups and civil society, the mobile phone become a 'potent communications tool'. (Pertierra et al. 2002: ch. 6)

 

Precision is needed here, as Pertierra et al. convincingly demonstrate, to delineate the ways in which text messaging plays a role in activism. It is also useful to step back from the celebratory discourse on the cell phone and its powerful effects, and reframe this set of events as very much to do with the mutual construction of society and technology, in which culture is intimately involved. This involves placing both the technology of text messaging and the social and political forces manifested in this uprising in a much wider setting. For instance, in his account of the Estrada crisis Vicente L. Rafael terms the tropes of text messaging and activism evident in the discourses surrounding it as:

a set of telecommunicative fantasies among middle-class Filipinos . . . [that] reveal certain pervasive beliefs of the middle classes ... in the power of communication technologies to transmit messages at a distance and in their own ability to possess that power. In the same vein, they believed they could master their relationship to the masses of people with whom they regularly shared Manila's crowded streets and utilize the power of crowds to speak to the state. (Rafael 2003: 399)

 

For Rafael, rather than possessing intrinsic politics in its own right, text mesнsaging here is about a 'media politics (understood in both senses of the phrase: the politics of media systems, but also the inescapable mediation of the political) [that 1 reveal the unstable workings of Filipino middle-class sentiments. Unsettling in their relationship to social hierarchy, these sentiments at times redrew class diviнsions, anticipated their abolition, or called for their reinstatement and consolidaнtion' (2003: 400). Thus Rafael compares the strong claims for the cell phone with earlier proto-nationalist fantasies associated with the telegraph and telephone by the colonial bourgeoisie in the late nineteenth century: 'They imagined that these new technologies would afford them access to colonial leaders, enabling them to hear and be heard directly by the state' (2003: 400). Here we see once again the importance of how technology, its attributes, contexts, and uses are imagined, something also prevalent in my next case study of the development of text messaging.

 

Pagers, text messages and mobile e-mail in Japan

Japan is another country where text messaging became popular relatively early. In Japan, the forerunner to text messaging was the pager. Initially pagers were a technology shared among workers, being typically leased to a company or organization rather than an individual (Okada 200S: 43). Initially pagers rang when receiving a call, and did not provide a callback number or other information. In 1987, however, NTT introduced a pager with a liquid crystal display capable of displaying numerals and letters:

This function changed the pager from a medium limited to receiving calls from one specific individual or location to one that could respond to calls from various sources such as the office, home, and friends. With this change, the pager was extended into private and personal uses outside of the office setting. (2005:44)

 

This 'personalization' of pagers grew especially in the early 1990s as cell phones were becoming more popular and subscription charges became cheaper (also in |993, subscription deposits were lowered). Younger people than before began using pagers, particularly female school and college-age students. By the mid-1990s users in their teens and twenties were predominantly the new subscribers to pager services. In 1995 Tokyo Telemessage released the Mola, a new pager that could receive text messages, which 'dramatically expanded youth pager uptake young users began using the pager to exchange short messages in which words were assigned to sequences of numbers and codes' (Okada 2005: 44, 51). In the same year, users were able to buy rather than just rent the pager terminal. By mid-1996 there was a peak of almost 11 million subscribers, a quarter of these being 20 to 29-year-olds, and 35.2 per cent households with children between the ages of 15 and 19 (2005: 44).

The juvenation of pagers is a fascinating study in the sociotechnical interaction among companies, manufacturers, and users. The pager 'allowed girls to receive messages from various partners, and a new form of dialogue was constructed through the repeated exchange of pager messages' (2005: 44). As Okada explains:

 

The method of communication popular among high school girls during that period is called poke-kotoba (pager lingo), which translates a specific sequence of numbers into specific words, generally using the first syllable of the name of a number as the 'reading' of the number. For example, 0840 is ohayo (good morning), and 724106 is nanishiteru (what are you doing?). The pager, which was designed as a medium to simply request a return call, evolved into a medium of interactive text communication via these girls' using the telephone keyboard for sending out messages. (2005: 51)

 

Pager manufacturers noted and responded to these communication practices, by adding a new function:

that converted numbers into phonetic symbols. For instance, 11 became the symbol for a, and 21 became the symbol for ka. Until then, in order to translate poke-kotoba, the users needed a common reference or understanding to decode the digital sequences. With this new function, they were able to send messages that were readable by anybody. (2005:51)

 

Keitai short message services were a response by the mobile carriers to the success of pagers. In April 1996 DDI Cellular Group launched the Cellular Text Service. This was followed by similar services by IDO and NTT DoCoMo (Short Mail), also by a text-messaging service for the personal handy phone, Cellular Moji Service,а introduced by DDIа Pocketа (Okadaа 2005:аа 53;а Matsudaа 2005a:аа 35).

Matsuda notes, 'this type of.service . . . has come to be called, collectively, short message. At the time, it was not possible to send messages between keitai subнscribed to different service providers, and each provider had a unique service name' (Matsuda 2005a: 35).

These short messaging services were displaced, if not eclipsed, by J-Phone's introduction of SMS in October 1997 (Funk 2001: 22; Matsuda 2005a: 35). J-Phone was then the third-largest service provider in Japan, and was later to become Vodafone, and its launch of this messaging service 'caused J-Phone's share of young subscribers to skyrocket even as late as mid-2000, more than a year after the introduction of i-mode . . . [and its] share of overall new subscribers to jump into the number spot' (Funk 2001: 22). Not only did J-Phone's SMS help it to best its competitor KDDI and its much faster data services (in technical terms cdmaOne services then operating at 64 kilobits per second or about six times faster than its competitor's offerings), it also helped key players developing i-Mode's service to reinforce the importance of the mass consumer market and affordable payments (indeed micropayment models) versus a focus on business users and more expensive renting of portals (Funk 2001: 22Ч3).

The Japanese love of text messaging has been widely noted, and typically claimed as 'one of the distinctive features of Japanese youths' keitai use' (Okada 2005: 49). Some researchers, such as Okada,.have gone so far as to suggest the Japanese case may be unique:

As researchers in other countries have noted, the heavy use of mobile mesнsaging among youth is common in countries with widespread mobile phone adoption . . . However, the Japanese case is somewhat unique in that text messages far outpace voice calls for young people. (2005:49)

 

What emerged eventually, however, was the popularity of keitai Internet email over SMS:

Japanese users gradually chose this type of e-mail over short messages because it is cross-platform and allows for longer messages. From a user perspective, however, there is little difference between text messages sent as short mesнsages and those sent as Internet e-mail. Users refer to both as meiru (mail). (Matsuda 2005a: 35)

 

Such keitai email supports relatively long messages of between 250 and 3000 characters and can also carry graphics, video, audio, and web links (2005a: 35). The attraction of keitai email was early on secured by its close link with simple but attractive forms of mobile content, distinguishing it not only from SMS but also from fixed line email:

 

e-mail is a very important part of the services offered by mobile content providers. For example, screen savers, which typically include various carнtoon characters, are sent in e-mail. With more than 2.5 million subscribers [in 2001] for this kind of official service, there are more than 2.5 million of these e-mails sent every morning from the content providers to their subнscribers. Further, there are many entertainment services that enable users to add these cartoon characters along with photos, ringing tones, and, in the future, video clips to their e-mail. (Funk 2001: 35)

 

I will talk more about keitai mobile email, and the mobile Internet more generally, in chapter 9, but it is worth noting here that Matsuda emphasises that just 'as in Norway . . . and Finland . . . the user demographic that most commonly uses mobile e-mail is young and female' (2005b: 125).

 

Slow moving message: Hong Kong and SMS

There is much else to say about the domestication of SMS, and what I have described so far leaves out many important perspectives and alternative stories. Part of this work to be undertaken, I suspect, entails consideration of cases where SMS has not been so popular, has not been used or enlisted users. Haddon has pointed to the need to understand non-users, former users, and intermittent users, to appreciate how such indifference, forgetting, reluctance, or foreswearing shapes notions of uses and meanings of information and communications techнnologies themselves. Though it is not often talked about, and does not seize the public imagination, text messaging is not always a story of frenzied adoption.

In some places and among many groups, SMS has been relatively slow to gain users. One very large and important market often cited is the USA, where mobile messaging has remained rather dormant:

 

In the USA, text messaging was not popular, since phones were incompatible and the cost advantages mattered less to the affluent. (Additionally, beepers and pagers had a prevalence unmatched elsewhere in the world.) As a result, mobile culture is far less rich in the USA than in texting hotspots such as Finland, Italy, the UK or, particularly, the 'text capital of the world', the Philippines. (Agar 2003: 108)

 

This is a reasonable starting point, though, as we have seen, pagers were an important precursor to SMS in Japan (and China too, it might be added), yet texting was significant in that country. As well as cross-cultural factors such as the relative amount of private versus public space in different societies, Rheingold

explains the success of SMS as enabled by a circumvention of corporate telecommunications carrier culture:

 

NNT bypassed its corporate culture by creating DoCoMo and hiring outsid Mariа Matsunaga.ааа Scandinavianааа andааа Philippineааа populationsааа surprised unsuspecting telecommunications operators by embracing SMS. The Euro pean and Asian adoption of SMS was made possible in large part by pricing policies that made texting less expensive than voice calls. U.S. operators did not bypass their corporate cultures. (2002: 22)

 

Rheingold also considers the question of why the USA has not yet grown a 'mainstream texting culture', noting two important American texting subcultures and musing about whether such practices could spread virally:

 

Hip-hop culture, streetwise and fashion-conscious fans of rap music, favor Motorola's two-way pagers, while young stockbrokers, suits, and geeks in the information technology industry favour the BlackBerry wireless pagers from Research in Motion. If the adoption barriers of incompatible technical standards and high prices for texting services disappear, might the cultural practices now incubating in these subcultures reach a tipping point and set off a mainstream fashion epidemic? (2002: 23)

 

There is much more to be said about messaging in the USA; however, the case I will turn to now brings into view one of the most mobile connected societies in the world, Hong Kong Ч often seen as a gateway to the booming Asian mobile markets.

Hong Kong has had quite a different experience of text messaging compared to many other countries. Its take-up and use of SMS is often lamented as much lower than other, much discussed, text and multimedia loving Asian counterparts such as Japan, Korea, or the Philippines, as represented in this 2004 overview:

 

Hong Kong has a comparatively low mobile data penetration. Hong Kongers only send an average of 11 SMS per month compared to over 200 SMS per month sent by Japanese and Korean subscribers.Less than 1.5 per cent of Hong Kong mobile subscribers access the Internet from their mobiles compared to nearly half per cent of Korean subscribers and approximately 80 per cent of Japanese subscribers, over a fifth of whom only do so from their mobiles. (Waters 2004; cf. IT Matters 2002, also Telecoms Infotech Forum 2004)

 

There are a number of reasons adduced for Hong Kong's comparatively low use of text messaging. First, Hong Kong operators were slow to adopt interoperable SMS allowing text messages be sent and received across networks (Hansen 2001). Secondly, in the early years especially, as we have seen, text messaging to date has been much easier for speakers of languages with Latin scripts rather than tradionalа Chinese scripts. The act of typing messages in English, for instance, is difficult enough, let alone typing messages in Chinese characters.

 

Hong Kong mobiles scholar John Ure notes that' [consumption] patterns as well consumer adoption rates of [SMS] would seem to be influenced by both local cultural factors and local market conditions, such as the level and structure of rices' (Ure 2003b: 10). For instance, voice calls on cell phones in Hong Kong, and access to mobile telephony generally, have been perceived as very cheap compared to other countries, so there is not the price-based motivation for users to text to save money. Hong Kong is a very competitive, fragmented, and relatively small cell phone market (Cheung 2003). At the stage when SMS usage was beginning in Hong Kong, there were doubts about its profitability in the face of what were presumed to be technologies with far greater capabilities (Hansen 2001).

 

Worried about this, cell phone companies have tried various ways to create demand for text messaging services. An early service devised to attract young users by leading cell phone company CSL was 'I-DATE-U', an interactive scenario game based on four female characters. Claimed to be 'the first-ever virtual dating game on mobile phones', the game could run on basic SMS or via the 2.SG WAP (wireless access protocol)/GPRS (general packet radio service) technology. Users (presumably male) could ask questions and engage in conversation via text with characters (McKenzie 2001). Another service introduced to stimulate take-up was canned messages' (e.g. 'happy birthday'), prepared in Chinese, to save keying time. Another popular group of text services are text subscription and transaction services. For instance, Peoples Mobiles offered a mobile betting service, allowing customers to place bets on football and horse racing. M-commerce, such as payment by mobile (m-payment), has also been seen as a way of increasing revenue (Ramos 2003). Hong Kong has also moved to position itself for multiнmedia message services (MMS), with early implementation of interoperability across networks.

 

These commercial responses to use of SMS in Hong Kong seem to be in keeping with Angel Lin and Jim Lo's pioneering study of Hong Kong college students and SMS use. Lin and Lo discerned 'emergent trends and patterns of SMS use' in which 'gendered differences are most apparent, and bilingual linнguistic identities also seem to be emerging among the high users' (Lin and Lo 2004; see also Lin 2005a). They cautiously concluded that 'new mobile communiнcation technologies might interact with existing sociocultural and discursive pracнtices to produce gradual change in these practices as well as in communicative practices both among and between males and females' (Lin and Lo 2004: 15). Thereа isа anotherа exampleа of such interactions leading toа text messaging cultures in Hong Kong. Harking back to my earlier discussion of the importance of texting in contemporary Filipino culture and society, this has been very much a diasporic media form. A high proportion of Filipino citizens work overseas, and make a substantial contribution to the gross national product through their remitнtances. The number of overseas Filipino workers reached 1.06 million on official September 2004 figures (National Statistics Office 2005); 49.3 per cent of these workers were male and 50.7 per cent were female (the latter having increased by 13.5 per cent over the preceding year). Hong Kong accounts for 12.4 per cent of the 820,000 overseas Filipino workers based in Asia. Especially prominent are the Filipina domestic workers ('maids'), who often live away from their families in the Philippines for many years. Typically they work six days per week, with Sundays off when they can be seen congregating in available public spaces downtown, as their own private space is very small (mostly a tiny room in their employers' apartment) (see for instance Constable 1997).

 

Hong Kong mobile companies have responded to the unique characteristics of overseas Filipino workers resident in their country, with specific offerings includнing SMS. In August 2004 CSL partnered with Smart, a unit of Philippine Long Distance Telephone Company, to offer cheaper text messaging than its competiнtors as well as voice call and other services, including money transfer via text message. In response another Hong Kong mobile company SmarTone joined with a Philippine mobile counterpart Globe (jointly owned by Singtel and Ayala) also to allow subscribers to transfer money via text to relatives and friends in the Philippines (building on their earlier service to allow airtime to be bought in Hong Kong and transferred to a relative or friend in the Philippines). The interнplay between corporation and consumer conceptions of text messaging by Filipino workers in Hong Kong offers both new possibilities for place-making and communicative and cultural fashioning of migrant lives, identities, and transнnational communities (McKay and Brady 2005). In this way cell phones are deeply implicated in both the resolution yet also the intensification of social and gender contradictions that stem from the violence of the conditions of contemporary capitalism, its modes of forced as well as chosen mobility, that displace people and tear asunder their relationships as they try to survive (Parrenas 2001).

 

I have only briefly touched here on the social and cultural aspects of SMS, MMS, and other 2.5G and 3G mobile data services in Hong Kong. Nor have I canvassed the complexities of the economic and industrial debates regarding cell phone developments, and the policy responses such as the Hong Kong Wireless Development Centre (www.hkwdc.org) (on such questions see work of the University of Hong Kong Telecommunications Research Project, especially Ure 2003a and 2003b; also Telecoms InfoTech Forum 2004). Nonetheless for the broader rethinking of cell phone culture, the Hong Kong experience is a very interesting one because it questions the assumption that text messaging can be

universally regarded as a 'success', or that it has a particular trajectory. A history of text messaging needs to include and account for this case, not just for comprehensiveness, but also because it stands to tell us something about the shaping of this technology. Clearly the story of SMS is a more complex one internationally than commonly understood, and tracing the nuances of this is instructive for reminding us of the cultural specificity of theory too.

 

The 'success' of SMS

There is an assumption in the celebration or reviling, by turns, of text messaging, that it has been now proven a 'success'. Making such judgements about technolнogy, or anything in history, is extremely problematic of course Ч not least given this is a quite new phenomenon. Further, as I have suggested above, the rise of SMS (or resistance to it, or simply lack of interest) is variable across cultures.

The difficulties of declaring one technology a 'success' and another a 'failure', or indeed, at a deeper level, of drawing neat boundaries around technologies, is nicely adumbrated in a classic opus of actor-network theory, Latour's 1996 Aramis. In Aramis, Latour offers a comprehensive account of a technology that was a 'failure' rather than a 'success': a French automated train system known as Aramis commenced in 1969 and was finally abandoned in 1987. By contrast, SMS may appear to be a case Ч at least so far, and in some places Ч of a technology that has drawn many elements into an alliance, and has succeeded (Latour 1996: 106). There is much to be added about the human and non-human elements enlisted in SMS, especially during the 1990s (not least the 160 character set of SMS as an actor in its own right). And the future is open, as to whether SMS will decompose.

 

In the light of Latour's work it is instructive to compare SMS with another technology that has, for some years at least, been judged a failure, namely Wireнless Access Protocol. Discussed at length in chapter 8, WAP was an early attempt to capitalise on the take-up of the Internet, especially with the advent of the World Wide Web and graphic user-interfaces for the IBM-PC platform. It was widely regarded as a flop. However, with improved resolution of cell phones, a greater range of screen sizes, faster speeds, and a substantial base of users with WAP-enabled ph ones, the technology is now slowly becoming popular Ч and so offers an opportunity to see the reamination of this technology. Indeed WAP resembles Latour's Aramis, and what he calls the linear model of innovation, where the 'initial idea emerges fully armed from the head of Zeus. Then, either because its brilliant inventor gives it a boost, or because it was endowed from the start with automatic and autonomous power, it sets out to spread across the World. But the world doesn't always take it in' (Latour 1996: 118).

SMS, on the other hand, or thumb, seems to fit the translation or whirlwind model of innovation:

 

the initial idea barely counts. It's a gadget, a whatchamacallit, a weakling at best, unreal in principle, ill-conceived from birth, constitutionally ineffective . . . the initial gadget is not endowed with autonomous power, nor is it-boosted into the world by a brilliant inventor . . . the initial gadget moves only if it interests one group or another, and it is impossible to tell whether these groups have petty interests or broad ones, whether they are open or resolutely closed to technological progress. They are what they are, and thev want what they want . . . every time a new group becomes interested in the project, it transforms the project. (1996: 119)

 

Of course, this distinction between the two models of technology innovation, and WAP and SMS, is too neat in itself. The symmetry will be well muddied if we add the case of the Japanese technologies of text messaging and mobile email famously the i-mode system, discussed in chapter 9.

 

In emphasising the contingent and even potentially open-ended nature of techнnology, and also its simultaneously and co-operatively produced boundaries with the social, I reach similar conclusions to Alex Taylor and Jane Vincent in their SMS history, also inspired by actor-network theory. They set out to 'reveal that no simple path can be drawn to explain the developments in and uptake of technologies' (200S: 75), indicating the many and heterogeneous entities that have combined to bring what we understand as SMS about. This shows that the history of SMS, like any other technology, cannot be simply repeated Ч for instance, as a moral underwriting of the guaranteed, widespread, and lucrative take-up of MMS. In chapter 5 I will consider another case study in how the uncertain and serendipitous logics but also power relations of consumption have shaped cell phone culture Ч the less-known but equally significant case of disability and accessibility.

 

 

Ch. 11. Conclusion: mobiles as media (pp. 205-211)

 

My starting point in this book has been to consider the cell phone and mobile technologies from a cultural standpoint. For those routinely engaged in cultural research, theory, and studies, the desire to embark upon such a study may be relatively uncontentious, and the resulting process or product hopefully a more-or-less useful contribution to knowledge. For many others, however, the very notion of cell phone or mobile culture is still something odd, a contradiction in terms, or simply indulgent. There is a very strong sense that cell phone culture, as a species of popular culture, is very much regarded as low, vulgar culture of the multitudes. While the fact is that it has instrumental uses and meets certain needs, it threatens rather than complements, extends, reconfigures or replaces proper, high culture (actually middlebrow culture, really). There is an important role here for cultural studies, as with sociology, anthropology, and other disciplines, to reclaim the sense of rich wonder and importance of the ways that people do make meaning in their everyday lives, and to make sense of how cell phone culture fits into the broad culture field and its relations to the social.

 

When I received a government grant to research this topic, the award |was welcomed by many academic, non-government organisation and industry colleagues, but was attacked by a prominent conservative commentator as a scandalous waste of money. I was happy enough to shrug off this cheap shot, not least because it was prompted by something of a set-piece, the annual 'find-the-looniest-arts-research-grant-to-pillory' hunt by the tabloid paper in my city. As it turned out, however, the attack on the idea of taking cell phone culture seriously was part of what became a larger and far more serious attack on humaniнties research generally Ч a sustained assault taken seriously by the Minister responsible for university research funding raising genuine questions about academic independence and scholarly standards. Now I tell this story not princiнpally to even the score (though there's that too) but to tease out a strange, persistent contradiction about how the cultural dimension of information and communications technologies Ч particularly mobile technologies Ч is regarded. On the one hand, cell phones, Internet, and other new digital technologies are prized because of the possibilities for economic development and wealth creation they bring. After all, these are produced by some of the biggest industries on the planet, numbering among them the largest global corporations, and potentially making huge contributions to civil society and polity as well as the economic well-being of individuals and nations. It would be logical to think that research into such technologies would be welcomed and encouraged. On the other hand, social and cultural approaches to information and communications technologies are often not desired or supported. This is despite the fact that society's underнstanding of the most pressing economic, not to mention philosophical or ethical issues, in information and communications technologies Ч trust, privacy, conнsumer expectations and desires, what content is attractive, cultures of use -would benefit from intensive investigation and wide debate of their cultural dimensions.

 

I am reminded here of a meeting with a well-informed telecommunications analyst for a major stockbroking firm and discussing consumer take-up of mobile services. We shared great curiosity and interest in telecommunications, but mutual incomprehension also. There was a yawning gulf between his emphasis on price as the prime, if not overriding, reason consumers might adopt or ignore certain services, and my interest in how cultural and social concerns motivated their purchasing choices, what they used the technology for, and what it meant to them in particular situations. In response to such talking past one another that is well entrenched and institutionalised in mobile technologies, an aim of this study has been to try to find ways to connect the different facets of cell phone culture, knitting together the different sides of this phenomenon as revealed by the work of arenas often regarded as separate or at least not often crossing. In this spirit 1 wish to conclude with some thoughts about what I hold significant for cell phone culture and mobile media's present and futures, and for those who inhabit them (willingly or otherwise), take an interest in them, or study them.

 

Speaking of mobiles

In the course of this book, I have discussed various conceptions and representaнtions about cell phones and mobile technologies, that have certainly shaped cell phone culture, and are widely and passionately held. The most striking of these are those that fall under the label of moral panics, but there are many others I have not touched upon that often recur Ч such as the addictiveness cell phones engender. There is certainly a Manichean view held by many of the ills versus the wonders of such technology, with little middle ground. It underscores that there are very deep, structuring myths about technology that are not going to go away anytime soon. The much discredited, yet hydra-headed notion of technological determinism is very much alive here, as we see in the idea that the cell phone has theа 'good' power to increase dramatically our productivity and social capital, become our life-recorder, or help us powerfully organise a rally. The flip-sideа of this is the belief that mobile technologies are powerfully 'bad', inciting usаа to riot, affray, excessive sociability or solipsism, or crimes against grammar or cultural values.

 

Scholars and critics by virtue of our professions have a reflex response to paint in shades of grey, add tonality, and plead that things are not so simple. However, ааthere are important concerns at stake here, that I for one am curious to find better аmethods to promote genuine public debate and consideration. There are, for instance, important ethical issues regarding the appropriate use of communication аdevices Ч take the case of the vast data- and image-capturing capabilities now аааmade possible with camera, smart-phones, and other mobile media devices. In theа emerging ideas, uses, and cultural practices associated with these, in the case of moblogging for instance, there are visions of recording, annotating, and sharing all sorts of personal and collective information. The debate regarding camera phones has been waylaid to a great extent by fears they will be used to take photos of vulnerableа children for nefarious purposes.а This has obscured much-needed, wide, and thoroughgoing debate about if or how we should regulate mobile imaging.

 

Where discussions of the social and cultural implications of mobile media are occurring, the principles in these are often proceeding unaware of the actual and аdeveloping cultures of use of such devices. A controversial example is the case of erotica and pornography ('adult' content or entertainment) over mobile media devices. We know from studies of Internet use that a wide cross-section of people consume pornography and do not believe it is harmful; yet this sort of understandнing of patterns of consumption and beliefs of users is not entering the policy and regulatory arena. Rather, decisions shaping key aspects of mobile technologies are predicated on long-held and problematic assumptions about public attitudes, and also on the nervousness of the larger corporations offering mobile services that are keen to avoid taking risks and incurring 'brand damage' as a result. There is a traditional and very useful role that those studying and analysing social and аcultural aspects of mobile media can play, and that is to communicate their knowledge and perspectives to inform and open up spaces for discussion.

 

Mobile designs

The importance of design has been manifest in cell phone culture, all the more critically perhaps because these communication devices have become not only mediators of much conversation and exchange but also bearers of many meanings, to do with identity, fashion, belonging, and the symbols and images that mark out collective and overarching aspects of our cultures. Design is a meeting place for ideas and practices to do with aesthetic considerations, functionality, economics, and signs, as well as engineering and marketing. Design is also the hinge between production and consumption; it is a space of translation between desires of those building and offering the technology, and those who might possibly find themselves drawn to, reflecting, using, or having such things.

Given the near chaotic, teeming field of possible shapes and directions that cell phones and mobile technologies might take, the turns they might make th connections between design and cultural reflection will become all the thicker and need to do so. It is no surprise that there is a lively, dense literature and bodv of practice on design in mobiles, and that there is much more to do still to keen open design as a site of potentiality in which all sorts of visions of use and consumption can be inscribed.

 

The user is dead, long live the user

In contemporary study and theory of the cell phone and mobile media, but also in corporate and management practice and philosophy, we encounter time and time again the fetish of the user. The invocation of the user is a much-needed exhortнation to those deeply involved in commercial enterprise, doctrinally guided by shareholder value and management imperatives; a reminder that the meaning of technology is not in the gift of industry, ultimately. Rather technology needs to be received, completed, supplemented and found wanting, by the user.

The question of what the user wants is, like all such ponderings of desire, an interrogative that cannot be answered straightforwardly. Certainly the various representatives of the user need to be proliferated as much as possible, and inserted in the interstices of the production process. There are processes, strucнtures, and techniques that are tried and tested to consult with, involve, join, employ, partner with, and be directed by users Ч and these are not used enough.

There are deeper questions, however, about what the rhetoric of the user signifies. The full implications of conceptualising the user-as-producer are only now being registered. The achievements of productive, creative users in their active, everyday appropriation and domestication of technology have not been registered in the annals of mobile technology, yet do we really need such documentation and reckoning. Among other things, such diverse cultural histories and accounts of use and consumption are needed to articulate better into multilayered mediascapes and flows of mobile culture in the present conjuncture. With the new technologies and cultural forms shaping the intersection of cell phones, audio and visual cultures, and Internet cultures Ч from customisation of devices, to everyday image recording, through moblogging, to peer-to-peer networks, email and messaging, and web cultures Ч mobile media networks, like the Internet, offer support, indeed clamour, for the user.

 

Media politics

The coming into being of mobile media is the next phase of what convergence has entailed: a long, complicated, unpredictable transformation of media and the cultural realm, since at least the early 1980s. The lessons from the 'information superhighway' talk of the early to mid 1990s and then the dot.com and telco crash later in that decade concerned the sheer massive scale of media changes, the twists and turns these could take, and yet also the intimate implications of all these in the conduct and bounds of daily life. Though much has been brought together, sorted out, compared, harmonised, or left as it is across media industries, I think that internationally we all are still in the process of comprehending how the distinct forms of, say, television and radio broadcasting, newspapers and magazines, cinнema and music, Internet and telecommunications, computers and mobile techнnologies will go together. Hence, under the banner of mobile media, there are already and will continue to be crucial struggles over pivotal issues such as: what cultural forms will survive and be supported; how audiences will be imagined and served; how the new publics will be understood; in whose interest will policies be arbitrated; and, crucially, who will be involved in these arenas and decisions that will shape mobile media.

 

One of the pressing concerns goes directly to questions of cultural citizenship and democracy because, while the user is still much talked about, very few users are taken notice of, let alone involved, in media organisations or institutions, government or regulatory policymaking. Indeed the large and powerful mobile companies naturally work hard in the interests of their own shareholders to shape the outcomes they believe are favourable, and Ч though it varies across jurisdicнtions, depending on the democratic traditions of national or regional systems of governance Ч show little inclination to consult genuinely or share critical decisions over technology shaping and policy with citizens or household customers.

There is much hope vested in a new, shifting dynamic between production and consumption, where the balance is tipping, unpredictably and excitingly, in favour of the latter. Much more attention has been paid by scholars and by marketers over the past decade or more to the consumer (the relative of the user). What this has shown, as in the cases of text messaging or the innovation of disability culнtures, is that consumers, through the accretion of their accidental, everyday innovнations, do have considerable power to shape technologies. Further, new media technologies, forms, and cultures rely on the consumer in ways that were not possible, or required before; quite a number of the convergent mobile media technologies, such as smart phones, moblogging, or mobile Internet, rely on very active, informed, and knowledgeable consumers. There has been a groundswell of optimistic, even millenarian rhetoric about this new agency. Indeed, the assertive noisiness of individual consumers should be celebrated, but it remains unclear how multitudes of users will come together to steer change in their own interests.

 

Open mobile

A pressing question regarding the future of cell phones as they metamorphise irrevocablyа intoаа mobileа mediaа revolvesаа aroundа openness,аа somethingа _ straightforwardly, not unproblematically Ч that is critical to the exercise of cul tural agency. If mobile media technologies and platforms are becoming integral our culture, how do we ensure that all voices, identities, and people may avail themselves of these conduits and means of cultural production, consumption and exchange, should they wish to do so? These considerations have become more complex, intractable, and hotly debated as traditional media forms have trans formed over the past two decades, so I am not overly sanguine about how we can also find some consensus around equality, access, diversity, and cultural maintenance and expression when grappling with new media cultures.

I suppose that I reflect upon the inheritance of almost a century of telecomнmunications, and die accepted forms of governance that accumulated around these in which each nation was paramount (true, with a few clearly establishing their colonial and imperial reach into telegraph and telephone, and dominating the others), and structures of international co-ordination and co-operation were established. The national telecommunications carrier played a pre-eminent role in serving the user, employing the worker, building the industry, and providing universal service across the country's territory. There are different sorts of teleнcommunications culture, but the 'telco' culture I have mentioned in the course of this book relates to the way that telecommunications came to be regarded during its classic, PTT admin phase, with its apogee in the deliberate, well-documented, carefully organised technical yet intense political decision making of the Interнnational Telecommunications Union. The first such international body, and a forerunner to the United Nations, such telecommunications fora structured the participation of citizens through the putative representation of the technical and administrative personnel of the government agencies (or private monopolies in the case of the USA and to some extent Canada) that were responsible for delivering services to what were then termed subscribers.

 

With competitive markets established in most jurisdictions, the setting of international rules on telecommunications' place in free (though clearly not fair) trade in goods and services, and the widespread privatisation of former monopoly network operators, a new vision for telecommunications has not really emerged. And given that the cell phone came on the scene, certainly in its accelerating diffusion, from the mid-1980s onwards, as a creation of more-or-less competitive markets, the older heritage of telecommunications, crumbling as it was, has not offered a cultural or political rationale. Yet there are real issues to be confronted, for instance, if cultural material is to be carried via SMS/MMS, who decides what content is appropriate and what is not? How is access of cultural producers to networks to be safeguarded, against the countervailing property rights of network operators who feel they are entitled to a return on their investment? How open ire mobile media platforms to carrying different applications, or allowing differнent software or applications, or permitting devices to be modified for the users own preferences or purposes? Should WAP, i-mode, portals (or other 'walled gardens'), and other online mobile protocols and configurations allow the user freedoms like the public Internet, or indeed to access the Internet, or content be freely available over television or radio sets?

 

I am now veering, of course, into thinking about the politics of mobile code and technologies from the perspective of computers, Internet, and other digital culнture, to see what resources could be suitable for developing notions of how mobile media can be kept open for cultural activity. For instance, there is the idea i>f creative or open commons, much discussed and inspiring different, concrete and viable models for democratic, economically sustainable cultural exchange (as represented in the 'Creative Commons' licence, for instance). In 200S, discusнsion was beginning about the notion of a 'mobile commons', and while this holds promise it will need considerable elaboration to make compelling sense of the way that mobile media are developing.

In pondering all this, I am keenly aware that cell phone culture is certainly now a far larger, more radically diverse, collection of meanings, practices, and techнnologies than it was in the 1980s, the first decade when such telephony became commercial and publicly available. There are many ways to map the vectors of the development of mobile technologies, but schematically at least it is a movement from voice telephony to media broadly conceived. As is evident from my account, there is much we do not know or understand about the pre- and early history of the cell phone, and much work to do here. The additional challenge we face now, however, and one I certainly felt in writing this book in the midst of a technology infiltrating into and reworking all sorts of old and media forms, is the need to bring together a broad knowledge of communications, cultural and media history and theory to follow the cell phone's metamorphosis into media par excellence. Not only to follow, however, but also to participate actively and knowingly in the opening up and shaping of such media and technology.

 

 

 

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