Week 2: on Part 2 and living in a trance
Some notes on Part 2 of Crime and Punishment, and some issues about digital platforms.
*Spoilers ahead*
On Part 2
Through most of Part 2 of Franklin, Raskolnikov deals with the mental and emotional aftermath of his crime on his own health and psyche. He murdered two people in cold blood and stole from them. Part 2 starts with an illness taking hold of Raskolnikov.
“A certainty that everything, even his memory, even the simple faculty of reason, was deserting him had now begun to torment him unendurably”, writes Dostoyevsky.
Raskolnikov obsesses over where to hide the jewellery he stole, eventually dumping it in a construction site. He obsesses over whether blood stains remained on his clothes, in a scene slightly reminiscent of Lady Macbeth saying “Out, damned spot!”. Raskolnikov already tried to rationalise his crime, telling himself that by murdering the exploitative pawnbroker he somehow generated a net benefit to society. Even now, in Part 2, Raskolnikov says that he is ‘oppressed by poverty’. Perhaps by saying this and actually believing it (however true the fact of his poverty and the oppression of poor people by it may be) he convinces himself that the murders and theft are somehow justified in his attempt to liberate himself from his oppression.
After arriving at a police station to deal with his non-payment of bills to his landlady, Raskolnikov faints upon hearing a small detail about his murders (of which no one suspects him). In some instances his internal monologue, which was coherent and precise in Part 1, is fragmented and loosely stitched together. In a particularly riveting moment, Raskolnikov either dreams or hallucinates hearing a police officer in the stairwell of his building, beating up his landlady. Raskolnikov is in a state of “delirium and semi-wakefulness” — in which he semi-consciously raves about things that make him feel guilty, like his stained socks and the ends of his trousers. He even goes into a bar and nearly confesses the entire sequence of events of his crime to a policeman.
While having financial motives for the murders, Raskolnikov continually turns down any financial assistance provided to him. He asks a friend for help finding work, but turns down the work he is offered. He is bequeathed a small amount of money by his mother, but gives most of it away to the family of a recently deceased man who he had met just once in a bar (Marmaledov — for those who read my previous post). When a pedestrian gives him some change (assuming he is homeless), Raskolnikov throws the money away. And when he is helped elude legal action over his debts, he is ungrateful and rude to the friend who helped him.
Another moment stuck with me. A quote by Razumkin, Raskolnikov’s friend: “if one goes into the ins and outs of everyone, are there really going to be all that many good people left?”. This seems poignant since the book itself is a dive into the ins and outs of a person who has committed two cold blooded murders. Raskolnikov, despite of his ego, insolence, and of course despite the murders, is not a bad person. He clearly cares about his mother and sister, the latter of whom is planning to marry a man Raskolnikov doesn’t trust. And indeed this man, Luzhin, seems pompous and has some troubling traits (his views on the poor and his frequent boasting). He is generous with the grieving family of the recently dead Marmaledov, who are essentially strangers to him. He finds the energy, even in his trance, to help a drunk young woman who he finds in the streets, being stalked by a malevolent looking man.
I wonder how Raskolnikov’s guilt, and the psychological and emotional weight on his shoulders will shape him. Will he confess to his crimes? Will the novelty of these emotions fade and will he learn to live with what he has done? With its detailed exploration of the protagonist’s emotional and mental state, its brilliantly articulated dialogue and internal monologue, and its vivid description of the streets and police bureaus and homes of St. Petersburg, Crime and Punishment (Franklin) remains gripping.
Living in a trance
Now please stay with me now as I lazily tie together the trance that Raskolnikov was in with the trance I was in while watching the final days of the Brexit proceedings unfold.
The details of the deal struck between the UK and EU will, over time, lead to more substantive analyses of the future economic impacts of Brexit. But I want to discuss one of the reasons we got here at all — Cambridge Analytica and the use of targeted messaging.
The Brexit campaign succeeded in convincing a majority of those who voted in the 2016 referendum to choose to leave the EU (of course, voter attitudes have changed significantly since then). Widespread use of disinformation played a big role in the success of this campaign — the false claim that the UK sent £350 million a week to the EU being one of the many toxic falsehoods spread by Brexiteers, along with their catchy slogans.
It’s also evident now that false information spreads a lot faster than the truth, especially about politics and especially during events that draw a lot of attention. A study by researchers at MIT found that falsehoods are 70% more likely to be retweeted, and that people are more likely to share what they think of as novel information (which is more so the case with a lot of false news than it is with the truth). A quote from Michael Lewis has stayed with me: “the lies spread so fast and the truth is complicated”.
This is not a discussion of competition and antitrust issues in the tech sector (which are obviously relevant and important — some recent updates include this, this, and this). It is also not a commentary on how important data privacy is and how all these digital platform companies need to be more candid about their data harvesting. And you do not have to hate Mark Zuckerberg or believe that Google is evil or acknowledge the heroism of Carole Cadwalladr or Edward Snowden to be on board with the points I make below.
What I want to talk about is our information meteorology. This is a phrase I picked up from Peter Pomerantsev’s haunting, engrossing, and enlightening book ‘This is not propaganda’. To quote him directly: “imagine an online life where any person would be able to understand how the information meteorology around them is being shaped; why computer programs show you one piece of content and not another; why an ad, article, message, or image”.
Just like we understand the actual meteorology around us — sunlight, rain, wind, humidity, and so on, it is reasonable that we also be allowed to understand how the information we consume is being processed to us.
We should have the right to know if accounts we engage with online are associated with genuine individuals or if they are the products of troll farms (like this, this, this, this) or propaganda machines. For example, if the information you receive on a digital platform about the legitimacy of the threat posed by Covid-19 or the safety of getting vaccinated is in fact generated by an account operated by a Russian troll farm, you should have the right to know that. Similarly, if your Facebook feed is being curated to manipulate your emotions (like this / this) you should be informed of how and why (this kind of manipulation should be illegal).
The use of disinformation and falsehoods via scrupulous-looking posts is now a common feature of political campaigns around the world. An Oxford study found evidence of organised social media manipulation in 70 countries in 2019. And even in the benign scenario where platform companies aren’t actively encouraging partisanship, the online information ecosystem is now one of the most important contributor to any political outcome. That each individual has access to information about how they are targeted has never been more important.
No matter if someone voted leave or remain, or for Trump or Biden or Clinton, they should have this freedom of informational clarity. But it’s about more than political outcomes. If disinformation campaigns can change attitudes about things as important as public health and global warming, and if digital platforms can facilitate the spread of hoaxes and conspiracy theories, then getting control over the validity of information online has to be one of everyone’s top priorities. (Read this report by the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, and this article about Shoshanna Zuboff’s work)
If we can’t be sure about why we receive the information we receive, and about what data about us is being used to form conclusions about our preferences; if the shaping of our opinions and personalities is conducted by a platform’s algorithmic process (which exists to serve only the platform company’s profit motive) and not of our own volition; then how can we be sure that we are in control of our own identity? Our autonomy and emancipation are what is at stake.
A good start would be ensuring that content posted on platforms only comes from verified users. Nick Kristof’s reporting about PornHub led to the platform removing all content from non-verified accounts. This can be done on other platforms as well — ensuring that troll farms aren't able to propagate lies and disinformation. Meaningful change is possible with enough pressure exerted on these companies — through both good reporting on digital harms and better regulation on content.
To quote Pomerantsev again, we should be able to know which of our data is being used to try and influence us and why, and should be able to engage with the information forces around us as equals.
