Plastic People-4-Plastic Worlds
The Anti-Authentic "Ready Player" Metaverse that Better Never "1"
As the world gravitates towards verification and division, this writer contemplates the opposite trajectory. While Zuckerberg dreams of a digital world with the aesthetic of cheap plastic, mystical nonsense, and a belief that fantasy is a form of expression, I remain unconvinced. One of the most annoying things about corporate culture, especially its interactions with reality, is the façade of imposed professionalism, indoctrination of its members, and the belief that good PR defends against compelling criticism.
I recall a debate I had once with a good friend regarding VR and the Metaverse, which culminated, ironically, weeks before Facebook's... erm... Meta's announcement of new direction and name change. They, being my friend, were convinced that VR and the Metaverse would never overtake the workplace and office spaces, and I remain convinced of the opposite.
My case, which I presented rather poorly at the time, rested on the idea that Meta and the workplace are inextricably weaved together in principal and design, almost coded, you could say. Both these systems require an absence of self, with the alter-ego presentation of corporate self. Both these systems require an overarching, not-too-comfortable, and safe environment that intentionally purges itself of anything authentic – which is why corporate will love the Meta. But, on the other hand, people will fundamentally reject its intended premise.
The story "Ready Player One" describes a dystopian world, crumbling under complete neglect and rejection of anything that can be otherwise digitally replicated. As the book describes itself:
"In the year 2044, reality is an ugly place. The only time teenage Wade Watts really feels alive is when he's jacked into the virtual utopia known as the OASIS. Wade devoted his life to studying the puzzles hidden within the world's digital confines – puzzles that are based on their creator's obsession with the pop culture of decades past and that promise massive power and fortune to whoever can unlock them. But when Wade stumbles upon the first clue, he finds himself beset by players willing to kill to take his ultimate prize. The race is on, and if Wade's going to survive, he'll have to win – and confront the real world he's always been so desperate to escape."
-Ready Player One by Ernest Cline
I rarely read fiction unless it's conspiracy theories involving enlarged Bond Villains, highly advanced technologies, and smokey backroom deals – which are always compelling to read but difficult to quantify and near-impossible to discuss. Whereas this book and its follow-up, 'Ready Player Two,' were digested so quickly that I didn't have a chance to feel disgusted or even breathe - What a ride!
The world, as described by the very smooth, might I add, writing of one Ernest Cline, relates to a fair accuracy what most of us would imagine the Metaverse to be – a playground of escapism fantasy. You can do anything in Cline's Metaverse if you have the credits to pay for it. A place so overly developed and sterilized, one has to seek nostalgia in 80's pop-culture references to find the grime and grit of the old world. A world where the ugly can be made beautiful and the fearsome made to appear kind. Where real emotions can be displayed or turned off – so as not to allow our avatars to relay our authentic expressions.
And that is the crux of the entire design.
The Metaverse is a playground. It has the potential of becoming the most significant, most in-depth, most fantastical playground ever devised by man – but it's nothing more than a playground. The Meta can wipe a genuinely authentic expression, like medical masks on children, hidden behind plastic interfaces projecting plastic culture in a plastic environment where nothing bad ever really happens. Except when Mr. Watts starts his hero story, and the fate of the corporate digital escape is suddenly at risk of collapse.
In a sense, the entire story is almost metaphoric for drug culture. On the surface, it's all fun times and a projection of the ideal. But just below the polished, ungrainular layers lies the disturbance of the real grit and grime of a world which can only replicate, never resolve – a deeply layered dependence of every user who invests more than their lives into the fantasy - but in fact, their entire fragmented self.
To those who haven't yet left the dance floor, Mr. Cline's imagination awaits all the fantastical escapism and wonder you could imagine. So fly as high as you want, make friends with a magic dragon, and finally get the girl of your digital dreams. But it's still a playground.
To strip us all of our identities, to command our emotions, and to present us adventure into worlds we otherwise wouldn’t access in flesh – is literally the Corporate Fantasy, not the human one. That being said, the improvements in the workplace would be significant. Productivity would drastically increase, where each employee, represented by their unique serial numbers, would be measured not in results at the end of the quarter but by the minute and microsecond. No longer do we need to hire expensive consulting firms to assess the fragmented workflow. Now you just hit a button and defrag your corporate ranks of anyone whose performance falls below expectations along thousands of metrics of measurement that are sure to be implemented. Which is to say – don't forget to install your smiling app before you log in, lest you be purged.
Remember Mike from accounting? No longer. Accounting isn't required when every personal and corporate ledger is digital and automatically quantified, audited, taxed, and reported to the 8th decimal place. (A known eventual in our reality and the meta)
Praise be to the ultimate uncompromising efficiency!
All that is, of course, the corporate dream. A fantasy that pulls so profoundly at those of us wishing to squeeze just a little more out of you while every inconceivable direction is squeezing us ourselves. ESGs. Governments. Stakeholders. Terrorist-Activists. Taxes. Shareholders. Chairmen and Boards. Restrictive Regulations. Zero-Profit Competitors (Zombie Corporations). And don't even get me started on the rising super-star VP from Operations gunning for a bigger desk.
Toss all that.
Now let me tell you what I really think:
There are two periods in our life when we genuinely seek a full-time experience of what the Metaverse has to offer: Childhood into early adulthood and our Later Years.
As children, we are captivated by fantasy, as the world appears to be while it slowly unfolds into our root of understanding. Santa. Tooth Fairies. Even the pagan traditions absorbed by Christmas (Trees and Wreaths) have a particular mystical glow built-in, almost coded. Choirs gather and sing in harmony (though not always in tune), and snow drifts down upon grime and garbage alike, almost purifying as it coats – leaving a sprinkle of fresh polish. Yet, eventually, the pure white of the fresh and undisturbed is driven over, walked through, and pushed to the side. The grit always rises to the surface. Whereas in our older years, I imagine we have seen and scrubbed enough grime for a lifetime and are willing to trade for a little more perfect, peaceful, and polite.
This leaves us all with that pesky period right down the center of life, where we accumulate the most stains, discover the most pains, and find our true lanes. As most Personal Finance books will tell you: Make your mistakes in your twenties, pay for them in your thirties and save, save, save.
For what? If the final goal of this meta-life is to merely exist without existing, then why buy a house? Why buy a car? Why even get married? Every single one of us could live in the most abject squalor imaginable as long as we have a good internet connection and are in reasonable safety – whose to judge? Everyone is plugged in and logged on. Can't make friends? Upload a new personality filter.
The latest one is only 1290 credits, ya poor?
"Beneath this mask, there is an idea... and ideas are bulletproof."
-Alan Moore
Let me instead offer you an alternative to the nightmare presented by Kurzweilian Dreams (He's the Futurist at Google who is famous for trumping Singularity Theory)
Have your Metaverse, and exist too, but keep them separate.
Don't allow your company or future employers the opportunity to spy on your private life with such precision: Stalin himself would dirty his white, starched uniform to clasp it. There is nothing there for you but plastic squared, and that's a playtime worth grinding but not a life to live.
Be authentic. Seek authentically—demand authenticity.
Therein, dear reader, don't assume I can't see the irony of a writer hiding behind a headless suit and tie, who lambastes verification of identity, or its identical loss. The irony isn't lost on me, nor am I phased by it. This identity I present to you is as close to authentic as I can get without crossing the surreal.
I don't seek celebrity. I merely seek your council, your ear, and your consideration. Maybe, when I can find a like-minded audience of that sort, perhaps I can one day ask the hardest question of all - for help.
I also seek future clients not Googling this blog and making assumptions about this little corner of the world I've curated for us.
No, dear reader. This space isn't for everyone. It's ours. No one else. We share this together when you choose to come and escape your escapisms and plastic worlds.
Remember this… Convergence, Verification, and the unforgetting Mind of the Internet are not in your interests.
Reject, or face the inevitable feeling of being rejected by future Meta-Men who will chase you out for fear of what we might say next.
As always,
Farewell and Good Luck.
-Dark Philosopher
November 14th, 2023 - New Audio
November 16th, 2023 - Fixed Layout, Format, Signature