Panoptic Spaces
Michel Foucault ends his Panopticism essay with the provocation, "Is it surprising that prisons resemble factories, schools, barracks, hospitals, which all resemble prisons?" It's not only in prison that people are subject to the "disciplinary mechanisms" of the Panopticon, where people are regulated, classified, and hiearchized by the condition of feeling watched.
Describe in detail a panoptic space that you have experienced. How is the space constructed? In what ways does the space shape how you feel and behave?
Also, the Cal Student Store now has 18 copies of Writing Analytically available.
posted by Irene Chien @ 7:10 PM
15 comments
15 Comments:
I recently spent some time at Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton just north of San Diego. At the School of Infantry the gear check-in is a large rectangular pen with high metal fences and a single passage in and out. The courtyard holds a 10 by 20 grid of square meter boxes painted onto the asphalt, each box several feet from the rest. Individuals file in and place all their gear within their box. At the front, the person in charge has a list of all the gear each person should have. They read of each article individually, having everyone hold above their head the said piece. The person reading can instantly scan to see if anyone is not holding the gear. Anyone lacking the gear is automatically singled out and made to explain the discrepancy. If no one is missing the gear, they are told to file off to a staging area for the particular piece. The process is repeated for each checked-out article. Once the list is completed, there should be no free floating gear. If there is, then individuals will be forced to explain how they have it. Upon exiting the area, everyone is patted down for further assurance they are not sneaking brass (bullets) out.
A panoptic space that I have experienced was being in a room taking my first AP test. It was held in a church, where there were multiple rows of four spaced out tables able to seat two people. The walls were newly painted white, and pillars were surrounding the sides. Light would leak in through the multiple windows, but mainly it was a very serene place. Before I could actually enter the testing facility, two individuals had long lists of names in alphabetical order, and two lines were formed according to last name (A-K, L-Z). After I passed that, in the front of the room stood four individuals, standing with their arms crossed and with a stern look on their faces. My anxiety level grew even higher to add onto the stress and pressure I was already feeling. Everyone took a seat, only to be moved randomly by one of the strict proctors. Once seating arrangements were finalized and settled, two proctors immediately clear their mouths and commanded the attention of everyone as forms and tests were being passed out. Talking would result in a cheating violation, and a non-graded test. It was exactly like prison mentality. Sit there, listen, take your test, don’t move, or be punished. It didn’t help that two of the proctors were walking around, constantly watching everyone. I would never know if they were looking at me, waiting for me to do one wrong move. So as I would be taking the test, I found myself consciously make sure I never did anything wrong, or did any suspicious actions. The level of paranoia created before the test even started was unnerving. I felt uncomfortable, unable to be in my natural relaxed state of test taking, but it still worked out okay. But this type of panopticism made sure no one would cheat, or run a high risk of being disciplined severely.
One of my favorite pasttmes has always been paintballing. Since my friends and I own our own paintball guns, we would go into wooded areas to play. One moonless winter night we decided to play on this abandoned airfield filled with massive bushes and trees. Some of my friends are currently serving in the Marine Corps and they dressed up in their fatigues and nightvision. Someone had the bright idea of teaming up against the two Marines that were with us. To offset the imbalance we let the Marines go in and then we were to try to find them. As we made our way through the maze of bishes every shadow and every breeze could have been them. At some momeents we were paralyzed by fear because we had no clue where they were and if they were waiting for us. Occaisionally one of the group would get jumpy and shoot at the shadows. The panoptic space created by the mobility and the inivsibilty of the Marines in this situation took away my confidence and the ability to act. Our paralysis ended up costing us our game.
When I was younger, my brother and I would go to the grocery store with my mom. When I was about five years old, I noticed the black "bubbles" on the ceiling, which my mom explained where surveillance cameras. I was freaked out that people were watching me, so I would walk around the store always looking for the cameras. I would be on my best behavior and never fight with my brother. After awhile, I started making faces at the cameras to see what would happen. Nothing ever happened, so I got a little more daring. I started stealing pieces of candy from the buckets where you scoop candy into bags. I figured that there weren't really cameras in the bubbles. But I forgot that there were actually people working there that could see me. One day one of the workers walked by the end of the aisle and caught me with my hand literally in the candy jar. So my mom punished me, and I stopped stealing. Lesson learned!
Now that I think about it, the volleyball court is a panoptic space that I find myself in often. In practice the coaches are always surveying the players during drills and scrimmages. They walk around and decide whether or not a player deserves playing time based on performance and effort. While I am on the court and focusing on the game my passing, serving, and effort are all being judged by my coaches and teammates who are sitting on the sideline. Being in that position can be quite nerve-racking. As a result, whenever I am in a game or feel as if I am being watched by a coach my performance changes. Suddenly I am a little more aggressive, I am always on my heels, I am always in the correct spot, and I always have good form because I know I have to impress my spectator in order to play. My behavior changes a little bit in this panoptic space because I feel the need to showcase my abilities. So, I guess I can be a different person on and off the court or rather in and out of this panoptic space.
I think the place that best resembled a Panopticon for me was when I was about five. I was in a store and i didnt have any money and there was this one toy i really wanted. I started looking around to see if there were any people looking. I didnt even look for cameras because i didn't know there were any cameras in the store. So i put some toys in my pocket. Than i started wondering if anyone saw me. What is someone saw me and was waiting for me to leave so they could bust me? I started walking around the store but trying to get the courage to leave the store. However, i just kept thinking somebody either saw me or is watching me, i could not get that thought out of my mind. So i decided not to take it and put it pack and just left. That was the only time i considered stealing mainly because i thought there would always be a panopticon like figure always watching me so never stole or even thought about it again.
In the fifth grade, our teacher would make us take vocabulary/grammar tests with cardboards dividers between each person. The dividers were made by taping two sheets of cardboard together, and then standing them up like an open folder at a right angle. Each student needed two of these dividers, one for the left side, one for the right, and once they were set up, you had your own little cubicle-esque thing. We could have cheated in several ways: pass a paper with the vocab words under the cardboard, kick it around under the table, put it in the desk-cubby-hole thing for the person next to us...but none of us did it (apparently, based on the scores) because our teacher would walk around maybe once during the test. I was too scared pass a paper around, simply because there was a tiny bit of potential for getting caught. Also, another element was added to this: sound. Crinkling papers in dead silence are total give-aways :(.
The elevator reminds me most of a Panopticon. The elevator reminds me most of a Panopticon. Every time I’m in one, there’s always a slight tension in the air. When there are others in the elevator with you, you can’t really talk or make eye contact. And when I’m in there by myself it just feels very isolated and claustrophobic. Technically, people can do whatever they want if they’re alone in an elevator; they can scratch themselves, talk to themselves, sing. But when I’m in an empty elevator, I never feel that freedom to do whatever I want. It always feels like there’s a hidden camera somewhere, watching. And most of the time, you don’t really know if there really is a camera. But just the thought that it could be hinders my actions. That uneasy and uncomfortable feeling that someone could be watching me but can’t be seen makes me want to get out.
When I think of Panopticism and the Panopticon, I think of a commune, where I'm irritatibly being watched by people, and then I thought of communism and socialism, which brought up my irritations with the federal government, and then it hit me: the worst panoptic space that I actually enjoy - the paradox of airport terminals, the plane, and airport security. The federal government thinks it's for our own good that they scrutinize us with heavy set women and nerd–like men giving us highly sexualized patdowns and going through our bag (and then laughing at the contents), and then watching us through cameras at every turn. Then, in the aircraft, should I sit in first class, the barriers separating it and coach are removed and I have to suffer the unnecessary light, sometimes "Southwest-esque" people, and noise coming from the coach cabin just so the flight attendants can watch and make sure we're safe, "for our own good", or making sure "discipline is instilled". Like the Panopticon, no spot in the plane or airport can be hidden from the big "central tower" of security, or the people above us who supervise us for our own good (well, except for the lavatory, but it's not like I can light a joint in there). I feel constantly scruntized and always paranoid that I might be searched at any minute. I'll also realize I'm completely enclosed, shunned from the outside world. It's just me, random people set in a big space for one common purpose, and a big plane. As I walk through the airport, I go, "Okay, don't look mad, don't breathe heavily, don't turn red." The 764 is two to three times longer than my house but feels much smaller, due to its constriction and unavailability to the surrounding environment. But here's the paradox - even though I hate the government intervening in peoples lives (I know it's necessary though), I feel spectacular at the airport - the cameras, the bomb detectors, the security at every turn makes this the safest place I could possibly be, removed from all the bad and negative in society, and I feel so comforted with all this protection - much more so than Berkeley (which creepo will stab me next). Oh God, have I just advocated communism?
The panoptic idea is to create an environment where the victims I under constant surveillance in hopes that it’ll keep order. The closest panoptic environment I can remember was taking a test in grade school. Students would move their desks from groups to long rows. The teacher would keep walk around observing us to prevent our eyes from wandering. She had this slow rhythmic walk that would fill a person with suspense. As she approached a student’s desk, she would slow down, stop, and look all around. But even under constant surveillance, students still found creative ways to cheat. One child hid notes in his pen. Another wrote on her shoes. No matter how much surveillance is installed, people will continually push the limits and find ways to get around the system.
I used to run cross country and for practice we'd either go on long runs or have some speed training on the track. On the track, our coach would always watch us, making sure that we wouldn't slack off or anything. I was never sure if I was being watched, but I didn't want to take the chance. I thought it would be better on the road, I mean how could he keep an eye on me if I'm running around. But it turns out my coach actually drives along with us, to make sure we're safe (well, I did get hit by a car during practice). After I got caught goofing off, I didn't slack off anymore. I never knew if my coach was watching me.
Oh, what's that word, totalitarianism.
For the first few months of the year back in my hometown, the city has been installing traffic cameras at all the major intersections. After they were installed, an article in the local newspaper was featured that explained the cameras would run during random hours of the day. As a semi-new licensed driver who couldn’t help but drive a few miles over the speed limit and accidentally run those yellow-almost-red lights, I began to fret. Knowing my luck, I might get caught… but I never knew when to worry. Each time I approached those intersections, I would spot those hideous white camera eyes staring me down, almost challenging me to speed through. And no matter how determined I was to try and defy the law, I inevitably put my foot over the brake pedal each time to make sure I would coast to a clean stop behind the crosswalk. Regardless of the time of day, I always felt like someone was watching me through those cameras. And every time I go back down to visit, I still feel the same way.
I can’t remember ever being enclosed in a small space and having the uncertainty of being watched at the same time. However, I have had the uncertainty of being watched. My father owns a small store and there is a counter where he keeps the cash register. Ever since I was a small child I had this fixation with having to sit on that counter even though my father had told me many, many times that I was not allowed to sit on the counter. When I was around 12 years old, my father had a security camera installed so that it would record the space where the register and the counter were. The television that shows the live images is inside my father’s office and right next to his desk, but since the camera was new, I forgot about it and sat on the counter. Suddenly, not 10 seconds after I had first sat on the counter, I heard the beep of the store’s intercom go off and I heard my father’s voice boom, “Beatrice, get off the counter!” Haha, I immediately got off and looked around in confusion. I had to think for a second before I realized that no, my father isn’t psychic, and I remembered the security camera. Well, ever since then, I was always uncertain of whether my father was watching me or not. So, instead of sitting on the counter, I always stand stiffly next to it and only wait for when I’m certain my father is out running errands to ever sit on the counter. Sometimes, when my father is inside his office, I test how long it will take him to see me sitting there; but as soon as I hear the beginning of the intercom’s beep, I always slide immediately off the counter.
2-3 times a week, I have choir rehearsal in the Caesar Chavez Center. The structure of the CC basement is not particularly panoptic except for a few rooms such as the room I rehearse in. The room, called VRR, has three regular walls with few windows and one wall that is almost all glass. The "glass wall" faces the rest of the basement. Everyone who walks by, which is dozens of people at any given moment from various groups such as Cal Band, Cal Jazz Ensemble, and the Choral Ensembles, can see and hear our choir very clearly. People call the room "the fish bowl", which to me sounds extraordinarily panoptic. A fish bowl is MADE for people to look in and watch intently. The structure of VRR gives our choir incentive to practice well and look proffessional. We can't horse around much. We can't make glaring mistakes. We can't even take calls from our cells phones. We're actually WORRIED that we might look bad in front of all the people who walk by and see us every rehearsal. VRR is definitely the panopticon of my life right now.
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