We Are All Prisoners
If you are a media studies student, chances are you've read about Bentham’s Panopticon. I read about it last year for my media studies class - and promptly forgot about it by the summer. But I’ve been following the Hong Kong protests, and instantly I am reminded of Bentham’s prison. More specifically, I can’t help but think about how Bentham’s idea is at work, not just in Hong Kong but around the world. No, there aren't any prisons that follow Bentham’s design; instead, there is something much more understated, but much more powerful - the security camera.
The security camera is a machine that will watch and remember you. It records everything in front of its lens and stores it in its memory. It is a security guard, without human flaws. It doesn’t need a break, doesn’t have a fragile memory, and never stops watching. Almost everywhere we go, be it the office or a restaurant, cameras are monitoring us. They keep an unblinking eye on anything that passes through their range, and even when we wander outside, we almost certainly fall into another’s view. The security cameras work together to form a system that keeps us held under a constant state of control. We are never free from the camera’s mechanical scrutiny, and taught that we shouldn’t want to be. Security cameras have become such a prevalent part of everyday life that we don’t think twice about the fact that someone is always watching. Whether it is our fear of being alone, or because society has told us so, our minds believe that being watched equates to being secure. It begs the question - in the age of the security camera, is the dying concept of anonymity just a small price to pay for safety? Or are we naïve in thinking the scrutiny of the security camera is for our own good? After all, this source of security has become expected at every location. And technological advancements such as facial recognition have made it so powerful, that one can’t help but wonder - are security cameras a way to keep threats in check, or keep us in check? Do we live in a society where a watchful electronic eye affords freedom, or are we actually in an expanded prison of supervision where these cameras are not our bodyguards, but rather our prison guards?
In discussing this societal prison, it is first necessary to discuss a literal prison - Bentham’s Panopticon. Bentham envisioned his Panopticon as a structure that could hypothetically control without having to surveil. His concept revolved around a single guard tower situated in such a way that the prisoners around it would never be able to tell if there was a guard watching. This constant feeling of being under surveillance leads to self-regulation. the inmate acts as if they are under watch, without actually knowing if this is true. Though the Panopticon never passed the conceptual stage, the idea is relevant today more than ever. When we pass a security camera, we don’t know if there is a person on the other side, much less if a person is truly watching. In fact, we usually can’t even tell if the camera is working. Despite this, when we see a camera, we behave ourselves because we can only assume that someone, somewhere, is watching. Just as according to Bentham’s concept, the constant state of “are we, are we not being watched” leads to self-regulation. The security camera has replaced the guard tower and we have become the inmates, always wondering if someone is watching, rarely assuming they aren’t. Seeing is believing, but if all it takes for us to believe is for us to see, then all it takes to believe in a whole lie, is to be shown a partial truth. As Foucault succinctly puts it, “visibility is a trap”, and the trap is the Panopticon – the security camera is merely the new and improved version.
One crucial difference between the Panopticon and the camera is the timing of interactions. While security cameras also serve the purpose of monitoring in real-time, they have something the Panopticon’s security guard doesn’t – a mechanical memory. Security cameras don’t just watch in real-time; they can record and have their memory played back and reviewed indefinitely. The implications of this being you can’t just worry about what you’re doing, you must worry about what you did, and you have to think about what you will do because the camera records any action: past, present, and future. The Panopticon works by preying on the paranoia of the present – is somebody watching me right now? The security camera builds on this. Not only are we scared that we are visible at any given moment, but we have also become conscious of the fact that any of our past actions can impact us in the future. By being able to see a person’s past and present actions, a security camera can control a person’s future actions. The Panopticon is of the present, but security cameras transcend the limits of time.
The idea of Bentham’s Panopticon hinges on the individualization of inmates. The prison works to prevent any form of gathering. Unlike traditional prisons, there is no interaction in the prison yard, and prisoners lack cellmates. Assembly leads to communication, communication leads to the exchange of ideas, and the spreading of ideas leads to a collapse in control. The inmate is left feeling singled out, like nothing exists besides himself and the tower. This feeling constructs a constant feeling of paranoia, and as a result, the inmate self regulates. But now that many security cameras are equipped with facial recognition, physical separation is no longer required to individualize us. If the security camera is the watchtower, then facial recognition is the security guard. The security camera may be what’s keeping us imprisoned, but it’s facial recognition that picks us apart from the masses. Facial recognition exposes our identities and reveals our lives, working in tandem with the security camera. The security camera will pin us down, but it’s the facial recognition that will tear us apart.
We live in a new and improved Panopticon, but that doesn’t mean we live in a flawless Panopticon. Just like how there were limits to Bentham’s Panopticon (for example it only works if we assume that the prisoner will automatically assume someone is watching), there are limits to the security camera.
Amid the Hong Kong protests, the government issued a ban on masks. Protesters began wearing masks because protesting under China’s surveillance society necessitated concealing one’s identity. Protestors have also shined lasers at cameras to prevent recognition, and many will easily spray paint over the lens. One of the security camera’s greatest strengths – its vigilant, unblinking eye – has become its greatest weakness, one that is easy to exploit. The camera can’t watch what it can’t see. The concern over security cameras and their ability to recognize faces has become a concern shared with more than just protestors. People all around the globe are becoming worried about the implications on their privacy, and have started sharing more legal ways of combating the cameras. One such person is the Dutch designer Jip van Leeuwenstein who created a “surveillance exclusion mask” that obfuscates the face, rendering it unrecognizable by a camera but still recognizable by humans. Obfuscation is another huge weakness not just of the security camera, but of any program that tracks you through your data.
If Bentham had lived to see modern-day society, he might have been happy to see that his idea has persisted, but perhaps he would have been more scared. The average citizen is not a criminal, yet yet the camera imprisons them in the name of prevention. Our society doesn’t overtly exercise control. Instead, it masks structure under apparent freedom. We might enjoy certain apparent freedoms, but these only serve to mask control. We have freedom of speech, albeit monitored; we have freedom of assembly, as long as it’s peaceful. We get our freedom, but only if we accept the security cameras.
The security camera has taken the Panopticon and extended its reach. The Panopticon no longer operates within the current perspective. With cameras, it is both prospective and retrospective. While Bentham’s Panopticon relied on people thinking they were imprisoned, the current model is much more dangerous – it relies on people thinking they are free. The current Panopticon might not seem so bad, after all, plenty of people go about their daily lives without thinking about security cameras. But we are traveling down a dangerous path from prison to prison, and you can’t help but wonder, if security cameras are the improved Panopticon, what will be the improved security camera?
