I recently finished Otaku: Japan's Database Animals1 (2009) by 東 浩紀 (Azuma Hiroki). And it has me thinking about identity consumption under postmodernism.
But, first, we’re going to need to talk about consumption under postmodernism. Which means we need to start with consumption under modernism.
Magpie Self
There’s this idea that your identity is made up by the things you have—i.e. what you consume. At some level, this feels rather intuitive. The material objects you surround yourself with double as markers of your identity. A king looks like a king by virtue of owning things that mark kingship (crown, throne, etc.).
With advancements in technology, the cost barriers to obtain things lower. Gutenberg’s press meant reproducing text became faster and easier. More people could access books, which led to higher literacy. It also allowed for a wider variety of texts to be published and a literary revolution as new books were created.
Unlike the days of tedious hand-copied manuscripts, anyone could own a letterpressed book. You were no longer special or unique for owning a book. To differentiate oneself, the contents of the book need to be evaluated. How fashionable is your personal library? What does it say about your character?
Let’s skip ahead a few centuries.
Universal Truths
With the rise of scientific inquiry, there came to be the idea that there exists some universal truth. As the laws of the universe dictate the movement of the stars and the interactions of matter, then there must be some truth behind humanity/society.
… This led to such wonderful things as slavery and colonialism (viewing other races as inferior/primitive), infantilizing women (the “weaker” sex), and homophobia (procreative sex is the only valid sex).
Modernism is very much the child of these philosophies of the universal truths. In a modernist interpretation, from a given story one can infer the universal truth behind it.
In school, you’ve likely had to write essays based on these modernistic interpretations. Writing things like “the curtains are blue to reflect the grief felt…”
And, you’ve likely had the thought, “maybe the curtains are blue because they’re fucking blue.”
Modernism invites this cynicism. To maintain the image of a unified whole, one must ignore all evidence to the contrary.
… Combined—a universal message overriding reality—modernism pairs well with totalitarianism. Making a some modernist works rather problematic…
Nihilist Response
Postmodernism is a response to modernism.
It criticizes modernism’s universality by declaring no narrative—no meanings—above others. The author is dead and their intentions no longer matter. It’s rather nihilistic; there’s no single truth, so there must be no truths at all.
Postmodernism invites the creation of simulacra—things neither original nor copies. Azuma’s focus on otaku culture provides salient examples of simulacra in the wild. Fan works, alternative universes, adaptations, and merchandise all make up the simulacra for a given manga, anime, or video game. Postmodern, the otaku consumer isn’t interested in a universal truth.
Azuma presents us with his database model of postmodern consumption.
Under postmodernism, our magpie identities are built on how much information we’ve gleaned about the fictional worlds presented. But, we don’t care what messages the original author intended as we’ve divorced the small narrative they’ve created from the alternate reality they’ve described.
And it’s here where capitalism rears its ugly head…
Or, Vacuum-Free Consumption
Capitalism presents problems as it asserts ownership. From the simulacra perspective, this grants ownership of derivative works (including fan works) to the creator of the “original.”
At this point the owner has one of two choices to address simulacra. One: fight with their fans and build animosity from the consumers (hi! Anne Rice!).
Or, use it as “free” content. Even with massive database collections like Marvel Comics, the original “author” couldn’t possibly produce all the simulacra that exists. Free advertising. Free worldbuilding. Free things to repackage and sell.
Why pay for labor, if your passionate consumers will create the product you’re selling to them?
A little insidious… But, it gets worse.
What if the original author is a terrible fucking person?
Postmodernism’s "dead author” mantra translates to consumption being perfectly fine. There’s no one “truly good,” so you can divorce the author from their world.
… Except, we have that whole ownership thing. That consumable world—those fan identities built from it—has a monetary value that the original, undead author benefits from. They can trade the monetary and social standing they ‘earn’ by creating the original work to enact real world political, social, and economical change.
Consumption doesn’t happen in a void.
And it’s certainly not helping anyone to think otherwise.
Seeds of Change
I’m not the first person to see flaws in postmodern capitalism. Azuma himself laments the loss of societal empathy and responsibility that the transition from modernism to postmodernism created, leading to higher loneliness amongst young Japanese.
But, reverting to modernism isn’t a solution; it’s own cynicism is what morphed into the nihilist apathy of postmodernism.
Rather than leave you feeling hopeless, I’d like to introduce you to the SCP Foundation. The SCP Foundation features a speculative fiction (largely horror) world that anyone can add to. Rather than have a division between original author and simulacra contributors, ownership is shared by all contributors. It is explicitly, openly remixable (via a Creative Commons 3.0 Attribution-Share-Alike license).
If you want to write your own stories in the SCP universe, you can. But, here it isn’t a fanwork simulacra; it’s a new original.
You can take someone else’s text and perform it as a podcast. Or illustrate it. Or build a whole video game from it. And, again, these aren’t inferior copies. The author of your source text agrees that you, too, are an owner of this world.