Date: 23 April 2010
Submitted by: Courtney Woodburn, Group 12
Point Blog Entry Subject: Categorization in Post-9/11 Surveillance
Quote: “Law contributes to the codifying of classifications, as we saw with regard to the definitions of terrorism. But technology buttresses this by removing further the human element, and by digitally facilitating the power of separation. Law and technology may seem remote to many, but their effects are felt locally, relationally, personally. As Bourdieu says: ‘The fate of groups is bound up with the words that designate them.’ This could hardly be more true than for those today who are viewed first as ‘Arabs,’ ‘Muslims,’ or ‘terrorists.’ Surveillance practices enable fresh forms of exclusion that not only cut off certain targeted groups from social participation, but do so in subtle ways that are sometimes scarcely visible.” (Lyon, 372)
Analysis:
Although in this chapter, “Resisting Surveillance,” David Lyon attempts to examine the ambiguity of surveillance practices by addressing the positive as well as the negative consequences of surveillance, this example of a negative consequence of post-9/11 surveillance practices was particularly striking because it is so widespread. Classification has always been a source of struggle, but the problem that occurs with it in post-9/11 surveillance, according to Lyon, is that “classification processes are being automated” (372). In other words, prejudices become part of systematic categorization that denotes people as ‘safe’ and ‘suspect,’ with little in between.
The real question we have to ask ourselves is whose methods of categorization – whose prejudices – are we following. Prior to the selected passage (clearly it was difficult to narrow down my selection), Lyon cites Pierre Bourdieu’s argument that “power over classificatory schemes is central to the meaning of the social world” (372). It’s not like we can point the finger at one Big Brother behind it all; these classifications play off public fears and prejudices.
We are made to categorize ourselves. Just look at the 2010 Census. Section 9, which asks for race, rationalizes its presence on the census and its importance to be properly completed with needing to acquire race information to “monitor compliance with the Voting Rights Act and the Civil Rights Act.” We can take the reason as legitimate, but the categories themselves are surprising. “White,” for example, is just that, whereas “Black” is followed by “African American,” and “Negro,” which I thought had definitely gone by the wayside, you know, with the Civil Rights Movement. And there’s no bubble for someone of European or Middle Eastern descent. Anyone who has studied genealogy knows racial identity is not as simple as the census makes it appear. We are made to choose one, and selection goes into the system, for better or for worse.
We feel safe within our categories. We define and know ourselves by them. Being one makes someone different Other. My own mother continues to refer to her new neighbors as “the Muslims next door” even after talking to them and borrowing their snow shovel. I don’t think she means it in an accusatory manner (at least anymore, because there was some wariness at first), but the label – the categorization – carries an accusation and a negative connotation regardless of her intentions. For another class I read the book Zeitoun, a nonfiction account of a Muslim Syrian-American man who ends up in Guantanamo-like imprisonment in the aftermath of Katrina because he is suspected of being a terrorist. This suspicion is undeniably linked with his ethnicity. The labels have become conflated. Those used to designate 9/11 terrorists – Muslim, Middle Eastern – condemn anyone else who falls under those labels.
On the flip side of the categorization issue, we need something to systematize it, right? How do we keep track of it all if we don’t have labels? Lyon points out that our compliance with surveillance (and categorization processes) has normalized it – we comply with surveillance in exchange for protection and security – but we must, Lyon argues, function within a code of ethics. We must ask who decides these categories, and are they effective.