We Live in Public

I saw the documentary on Josh Harris, "We Live in a Public," about six months ago. Apart from his bizarre experiment to tape the most interesting people he could find in a bunch of pods, I think the most telling part of the film was the follow-up project with his girlfriend. The concept was similar—film everything, everywhere—except all the cameras were plugged into the apartment he shared with his girlfriend. The footage was broadcast to their website, which attracted a devoted audience numbering in the thousands, as this level of voyeurism was still novel at the time. The couple would interact with their fans through a chat feature. Once the girlfriend even asked, “Where are my keys?” and someone watching them online was able to tell her. Eventually, however, as their audience dwindled, their relationship also spiraled out of control, as though the two were irrevocably intertwined: Their affinity for one another was tied to the level of theatrics it provided.

Thinking of this documentary makes me also think about values. With the forward march of technology, it seems that there are values being left behind in the dust. Nowadays, I marvel every time I meet someone who is genuinely humble, and does not seem to be clamoring for your attention, in person or online. Can a value be anachronistic? I guess this connects back to the Zadie Smith essay—while by age, I am a part of the People 2.0 generation, I much prefer looking for the People 1.0 mentality in others, and most importantly, myself.