An Object-Oriented Feminist Approach to Speculative and Critical Design
Speculative and Critical Design (SCD) has a history of being restricted to privileged western and European countries with the ideologies of a “better society” in mind. Despite SCD’s aims to challenge our assumptions of everyday life, it does so purely on an aesthetic level, and one that ultimately discredits people marginalized in society. With the prevalence of unnecessarily gendered marketing strategies, there is an influence on design culture which in turn influences the way our society perceives itself. Since design is ideological and informed by values based on a world view, as Dunne and Raby state, it is important to consider what it means ideologically if designers are willing to propagate gender discrimination and exclusion through product design and interaction. Through an object-oriented feminist approach on SCD, I will briefly talk about the phenomenology of object categorization and the state of “being” in terms of a collective non-corporeal future, as well as the real and unreal taxonomy of queer and femme bodies as objects.
Object Oriented Feminism stems from Object-Oriented Ontology, a Heidegger-influenced theory that rejects prioritizing human existence over non-human objects, making claims about the equality of object relations. It is ultimately all about objectification. It is viewed as a subset of speculative realism and states that objects exist independently of human perception, in contrast to a Kantian view of the mind constructing the human experience. It is essentially a form of non-anthropocentrism; the world consists exclusively of objects and treats humans as objects like any other, rather than privileged subjects. Object oriented feminism approaches all objects from the inside-out position of being an object too. It foregrounds this concept in three main ways, through politics, engaging with histories of the treatment of minorities, erotics, using humor to make the unseemly connection between objects, and ethics being in the right by being “wrong.” As Katherine Behar states, art and feminism have had long standing engagements with the notion of human objects.
This object-centric argument brings us to the questions of what constitutes a body? What constitutes an object? What animates an object and what objectifies a human? To further this question, how do we categorize the concept of gendered objects within the scope of Object-Oriented-Feminism? The separation of gendered objects throughout our society emphasizes a distinctive binary of the feminine and masculine. But through the lens of being an object, what actually defines masculinity and femininity? According to Riviere, there is not any particular difference between the “genuine” womanliness and the masquerade. Femininity is a performance. Stephen Heath points out that “in the masquerade the woman mimics an authentic womanliness, but then authentic womanliness is such a mimicry, is the masquerade; to be a woman is to dissimulate a fundamental masculinity, femininity is that dissimulation” Therefore the masquerade shows that the woman exists and simultaneously doesn’t exist. “A woman, or fractured being, is defined only by a phallic lack.”
This brings us to the idea of Meinong’s Jungle, a different type of object categorization, one that is explained by Dunne and Raby here. Alexius Meinong’s Taxonomy of Objects talks about separating objects into things that exist, and things that do not exist, or things that “have being” or things that “do not have being,” These categories are divided into subcategories of real and ideal, objects that have non-being, and objects that are not determined with respect to being (see chart). It is the idea that non-existent objects and even impossible objects such as round squares should be included in any proper taxonomy of objects. The majority of representation of unconventional bodies in the media and in SCD proves this to be so. Through an object-oriented feminist lens, politicized bodies of femme, queer, trans, or any other lgbtq+ persons, in our society must be “non-existent,” or “non-real” objects. The idea of a body rejecting the conventional ontology of the feminine and masculine must only exist as non-being, as proven by representation in the media. A round square has the properties of being round and not round, but this is not to say that it can’t exist. In Meinong’s taxonomy this exists as Contradictory objects - they have constitutive properties that are in some way in conflict. “A round square can be both round and not round - in fact it has to be both round and not round in order to be a round square. But, to say that it is the case that the square is round and it is not the case that the square is round, is contradictory.” These same properties can be applied to femininity and masculinity, a binary that can “contradictorily” exist within the confines of Meinong’s Jungle.
In a world where objects are defined as “all things that can be the targets of mental acts,” these objects exist and have “outside being. ``What does it mean when we anthropocentrically view objects as only constructed in the human mind? In a speculative future that is non-corporeal and collectively assimilated into a digital and virtual consciousness, the ideas of entities are obsolete. What will this entail in terms of recognition of bodies, entities, objects? This brings us to the concept of a digital ontology. Today, SCD, or even any speculative methodology, rarely ever talks about electronic artifacts in gender roles, or how technology intersects with gender oppression. Will there be a shift in the recognition of items that are targets of mental acts? How will we distribute the democratic ideals of a non-gendered, non-corporeal system throughout a cybernetic society?
Meinong's jungle poses a speculative alternative to object ontology which lets us analyze objectified beings through the lens of non-existence. Sarah Ahmnd, in Queer Phenomenlogy rejects the idea of a universal experience underlining the importance of understanding power systems embedded within objects. Both Meinong and Ahmed point to specific methods of power inside systemic interconnections. These lenses allow us to pose a speculative future of a new digital ontology, and dream of an age of digital manuscript in which the ideas of entities are obsolete. Instead, we think of “Us” as the entity, digital network, AI body; a re-construction of synthetic neural networks where object recognition is posed as our un-real existence, our non-existent bodies.
Phenomenology of Myself - Does being in VR Cause Depersonalization
Depersonalization is a neurological phenomenon that causes individuals to have persistent or recurrent experiences of feeling detached from their mental processes or body, as if they are in a dream. During an episode, this condition can cause clinically significant distress or impairment in normal functioning and may last from one minute to a full year. Many people experience depersonalization as a self-protection mechanism against trauma that is too difficult to process mentally and emotionally. The effect of “leaving the body” is common when dealing with significant and overwhelming stress.
I have personally experienced this phenomenon, and I can attest to its psychologically terrifying and stressful effects. My recurrent episodes occurred during a time when I was undergoing significant personal stress. Little did I know that years later, I would experience this same phenomenon triggered by a supposedly benign and promising medium in which I have found myself working as an artist—Virtual Reality (VR). Through research and exposure to this medium, I have come to realize that the majority of stakeholders in VR development might not necessarily experience the dissociation, objectification, and dysphoria that some individuals may feel due to their lived experiences.
The tech industry, in general, is not a welcoming environment for non-cis men, in particular. According to the IGDA’s IT/Developer Satisfaction survey, 45% of women leave the tech industry after they have entered it. This trend extends into VR development and consumption, where products designed for this intimate technology are primarily catered to the male experience. It is imperative to discuss how emergent technologies, which are becoming increasingly present in our society, affect women and minorities who may not have a strong presence in this field due to exclusion and various forms of discrimination. As developers, it is our duty to be inclusive of the experiences of those who may not have a significant stake in the progression of VR and how it is perceived in our society, or those who might not have the luxury of access to this medium.
During the development of my recent VR project about object-oriented ontology, I discovered that once I implemented Oculus Rift Touch controllers with realistic hand avatars, I immediately encountered a dissociative depersonalization response after removing the headset. In earlier stages of my project, the physical effects and immersion of the VR world were so unrealistic that they missed the uncanny valley by a long shot and remained artificial enough for my brain to recognize that it should not be searching for external stimuli and haptic feedback. Instead, I was so far removed from immersion that I did not experience dissociation.
The depersonalization/derealization effect is not uncommon among those who use Touch controllers with the Oculus or other platforms that introduce realistic virtual avatars. Upon researching this phenomenon, I found many accounts of similar experiences. When individuals who have experienced this reaction write about their experiences on forums like Reddit, they are often met with defensiveness, denial, and even anger from others, suggesting that the original poster should not “scare people” into thinking they have something that they don’t. Other users report feelings of VR lag, stating they are “still in VR” even after removing the headset. Developer Lee Vermeulen reported dissociative sensations after trying Valve’s SteamVR system in 2014:
“I understood that the demo was over, but it was as if a lower-level part of my mind couldn’t exactly be sure. It gave me a very weird existential dread about my entire situation, and the only way I could get rid of that feeling was to walk around or touch things around me.”
The more I develop in VR, the more I am unable to be in virtual space without experiencing an extreme derealization/depersonalization episode afterward. The aftershock of feeling that I am unreal, that my hands do not belong to me, and that my body is not my own is a dysphoric and uncomfortable experience. Individuals like myself, who already experience dissociation and dysphoria in their daily lives, may be more susceptible to depersonalization aftershocks, as we may be more emotionally and intuitively familiar with these sensations. The trigger for this episode occurred when I began to involuntarily ignore the signs and flaws of the VR platform, and when the virtual space became semi-realistic. This is not solely due to the environment and imagery, but also from the real-time dynamic interaction, response, and physics of my embodied avatar. I was able to pick up and throw objects that had a real physical response with semi-realistic-looking hands, and that was immersive enough for me. The number of immersive elements in the design that spatially and intuitively relate to our bodies seems to correlate with a more dissociative experience after the headset is removed. In a study conducted in 2010, researchers found that VR induces dissociation and lowers our sense of presence in objective reality.
We can readily accept and adapt to our environment because, evolutionarily, we have to. The neuroplastic nature of the brain can accommodate and adapt to external somatosensory input very easily, and we rarely question changes in our immediate surroundings. During the early stages of my project, the uncanniness of motion flaws, proportional errors, and headset positional errors was sufficient to reveal the seams of the platform, distinctly separating reality from virtuality. After switching to a realistic physical environment, I subconsciously accepted this as reality and adapted to its scale, color, parallax, and physical effects.
Sometimes, I experience aftershocks in my daily life, manifesting as brief moments of uncanniness and fragmented representations of myself. I may adopt other people’s limbs as my own or briefly feel that my body doesn’t exist and is foreign to me. Nothing may trigger these sensations in particular, but they are very real and visceral reactions to my personhood and existence—my phenomenology of self. These experiences lead to questions about the ontological nature of selfhood and what defines a body in terms of agency, ownership, and experience. If I can so easily slip into someone else’s computer-generated body, what does that mean for bodily self-awareness in both reality and virtuality? These dysphoric experiences may indicate that a body is not just objectively embodied but also experientially present in one’s actions. Recognizing the dysphoria many people encounter in daily life and the disembodiment felt by numerous individuals in VR will shift our phenomenological understanding of lived experience in a body. Consequently, we must treat this subject with care when subjecting users to intimate experiences involving their bodies.
There must be a tenderness in understanding the public’s response to the very real experiences they have in VR. There is a lack of sensitivity and awareness toward people with mental health issues, people with disabilities, minorities, and women. There are blanket statements and offhand warnings that seem to imply “use at your own risk.” But when we are dealing with something that can change the infrastructure of our daily lives, we must pay more attention and believe those who report feelings similar to mine. VR is promised as a profound tool for medicine, aging, advertising, and social culture, and we must take the responsibility as developers to advocate for more testing and research before it further develops and integrates into our society.