Fran Lebowitz and the jig we are all complicit in
Digitisation and dehumanisation, in conversation
Lebowitz photographed by Emily Lipson, for Paper Magazine
Earlier this year I saw Fran Lebowitz In Conversation. Not only did I get to witness Lebowitz’ dark humour first-hand, but I was also made privy to some kind of jig we are all maintaining. It has to do with automation and digitisation of once very human systems. In this instance it was a small screen displaying questions submitted by the audience pre-show. The process of walking around a crowd with a microphone had apparently been deemed too cumbersome and analogue, and was now sanitised in favour of convenience. After all, why not use the gifts afforded us by big data and tech companies to streamline even the experience of a live show? Like the Trojans, we blindly accepted these upgrades and conveniences, ignorant to their imminent attack from the inside.
Before the show, I stood at the entrance and witnessed the most cigarette smoking, neatly dressed, middle class white women I’d ever seen in one place. A congregation of the educated with a Bachelor of Arts from the University of Melbourne. That could have been me one day, but flimsy dreams of becoming what they are left when I dropped out of my own BA at the UoM to become a musician and general Tastemaker of the night (somebody tell me it was worth it). Among the women was a sense of importance and a general air of what could be interpreted as power. Their eyes were clear and focused, their walking intentional, and shoulders square. I was reminded that Lebowitz’ has gotten to where she is by being completely uncompromising in who she is, and this air was in the room. We all saw Pretend It’s A City, and were glad to be reminded of a woman living the life we thought existed only in books or on TV. We played make believe that it was not only a city, but an example. There were men as well, but a very small amount. They mostly stood with their other half lighting said cigarettes or getting them a drink from the bar.
Lebowitz was interviewed by Sophie Black, editor-in-chief of digital magazine called Crikey. Her questioning began with “I understand you’re quite particular about clothing, can you tell us a little bit about what you’re wearing”. This thread could have been interpreted as satirical, but Black’s girl boss attitude seemed very unironic. This lack of irony was confirmed as Black continued across Lebowitz’ entire get-up, despite a less than enthusiastic response. The next topic centred around Taylor Swift. Melbourne was three days deep in Swift Fever, after all. When asked how Lebowitz might refer to her fans (as Swift fans are Swifties), Lebowitz replied: Smart. I think she also asked about Kim Kardashian and Donald Trump, but I was too distracted by how badly they seemed to gel on stage to notice exactly what was being said.
Most of the interview consisted of Lebowitz’ abrupt and sardonic responses, which I suppose is her shtick. Unless her management specifically requested fodder for easy one-liners then I am struggling to understand why Black had prepared such boring questions for Fran. Was she offering herself up as some sort of sacrifice in the name of laughter? This seems unlikely, as Black came across as the type of woman to take herself very seriously. I was reminded of WWE, or some other heavily scripted and torturously prodded reality TV such as the Bachelor or Married At First Sight. As in wrestling, Lebowitz was waiting to lay a top-rope splash on Black at any moment (I do not watch WWE and it did take some googling to find the term top-rope splash).
Once the initial introduction was done, Black left the stage and Lebowitz moved on to the actual In Conversation part. But it wasn’t a live, pass the mic around back-and-forth between the audience and speaker. Lebowitz was instructed to read from questions which had been submitted by ticket holders up to 24 hours before the show. They appeared on a prompt screen at her feet. After expressing her disappointment with the format, Lebowitz was resigned in the fact that this is how it was going to be done. It was a little depressing to witness somebody with such integrity being dehumanised in this way, and it took a moment to swallow.
In every direction I turn people have decided that digitisation is the answer. The amount of planning and administration which has to go into having questions submitted and pre-approved, versus having someone walk around the crowd with a microphone seems huge. Based on the generic and repetitive line of questioning, which centred around what do you think of Trump, and America, and how does Fran feel about being associated with these two things - it was clear that this process was in fact too much admin and somebody had foregone their task to do something probably much more important, like play a game of table tennis or paint their toes. When you have live questioning at least the crowd has the opportunity to improvise and mould their questions to avoid double ups, to continue with themes or create new ones. A process also known as having a conversation.
Amongst the tension there were a couple of choice lines — “I’m not as worried about artificial intelligence as I am about natural intelligence”, and “being a journalist today is like being a shepherd”. But the feeling of walking around maintaining some type of jig of satisfaction with this pseudo-conversation was hard to shake. Similar to applying for houses, or a job. Despite what they tell us, none of these processes are made easier or more interesting by automation. We all participate with the knowledge that each of us is spending more time trying to outsmart an algorithm, than was once spent filling out a form by hand and providing a couple of payslips. We are all lying to find a place to live. And we all lie to get a job. At what point do we collectively decide to stop lying and give up the jig?
I wondered during the Conversation with Lebowitz whether anybody would usurp the pre-prepared questions and just call something out. But it wasn’t going to be me. I was surrounded by a lot of very clever women who would surely speak out if there was something fundamentally wrong here? Maybe to them there was nothing wrong here. They are placated simply by the presence of Lebowitz, their scepticism worn down by years of the gender pay gap and maternity leave. We sat and laughed while Lebowitz said-without-saying that this situation with the screen and the typed questions was in fact not O.K..
The power of technology is a very real threat when wielded by intangible bodies, boards, shareholders and CEOs, or some person on the operations team at Hamer Hall. A hygienic world is being crafted by a fear of unknown quantities and vigilance against hate-speech (what I can only imagine Lebowitz’ screen reader was up against). These fears conveniently go hand-in-hand with the automation agenda, and the act of actually raising awareness to issues we face through conversation, or giving a voice to individuals is being completely shat on in the process. There are faceless groups of people speaking on behalf of entities and machines, collectively dehumanised in the process and entirely complicit in the jig. Artists like Fran Lebowitz are left having conversations with computers despite being surrounded by hundreds of willing and able communicators, and nobody feels like they can do anything about it.