By+Firmin+DeBrabander

Theres a well-known contradiction in the way many of us behave online， which is this： we know were being watched all the time， and pay lip service to the evils of surveillance by Google and the government.1 But the bounds of whats considered too personal， revealing or banal to be uploaded to an app or shared with a circle of social media “followers” seems to shrink by the day.

I moan about the lack of privacy， for example， and yet I willingly and routinely trade it for convenience. I am no longer forced to take my chances on a restaurant and guess which one is best； Yelp will tell me and then escort me to its front door.2 I no longer run the risk of unforeseen delays on public transport； Google Maps will inform me of the fastest route to my destination， and， in a pinch3， an Uber can get me there via any number of hidden by-roads. I no longer need to remember my friends birthdays； Facebook will nudge4 me， and invariably lure me to post an update to remind people I exist. To avail myself of5 these applications， all I have to do is make my location， habits and beliefs transparent to their parent companies whenever they choose to check in on me.

So whats going on？ “Visibility is a trap，” wrote the French philosopher Michel Foucault6 in Discipline and Punish： the Birth of the Prison （1975）. What he meant was that allowing oneself to be watched， and learning to watch others， is both seductive and dangerous. He drew upon Jeremy Benthams 18th-century plans for a “Panopticon”， a prison in which inmates are observed from a central tower manned by an invisible occupant，7 his watchful eye seeing but unseen. The idea was that the prisoners would internalize the presence of the spectral watchman， whether or not anyone was actually inside， and behave of their own accord.8

According to Foucault， the dynamics of the Panopticon bore an uncanny resemblance to how people self-monitor in society at large.9 In the presence of ever-watchful witnesses， he said， physical coercion10 is no longer necessary. People police themselves. They do not know what the observers are registering at any given moment， what they are looking for， exactly， or what the punishments are for disobedience. But the imagination keeps them pliant11. In these circumstances， Foucault claimed， the architecture of surveillances become perniciously subtle and seamless，12 so “light” as to be scarcely noticeable.

Individuals not only accept this form of discipline， but it soon becomes invisible to them， and they willingly perpetuate13 it.

Foucaults central claim is that such monitoring is worrisome， not just because of what corporations and states might do with our data， but because the act of watching is itself a devastating exercise of power. It has the capacity to influence behaviour and compel conformity and complicity，14 without our fully realising it.

But somethings not right here. The internet has no centre； we dont need hard evidence of a conspiracy15 between companies and governments to know that we are seen online. We seem to be surveilled from everywhere and nowhere， and yet the self-display continues. Have we been so thoroughly disciplined that the guards have taken away the watchtower， or is some other dynamic at work？

Social media provides a public space that often operates more like a private venue， where many people express themselves knowing that those watching will agree—or， particularly for internet trolls， in the belief that there they wont suffer the consequences of what they say online， as if protected by the mediation of technology. Having a smartphone and access to the internet does not automatically equip us with the tools necessary for effective and respectful collaboration， negotiation and speech.

Plato would be alarmed by the lack of shame online. He thought that shame was a crucial emotion， indispensable16 for doing philosophy and acting morally. Shame presupposes that we ought to know better but flout the rules regardless.17 This is precisely Platos point about moral knowledge： we already know the right way to live a just and fulfilling life， but are constantly diverted from that noble aim. For Plato， then， shame is a force that helps us resist the urge to conform when we know its wrong to do so. Shame helps us be true to ourselves and to heed18 the moral knowledge within. A man without shame， Plato says， is a slave to desire—for material goods， power， fame， respect. Such desire is tyrannical19 because， by its nature， it cannot be satisfied.

眾所周知，很多人在网络上的表现都是矛盾的。一方面，我们知道自己时刻被监视，口头上认同谷歌和政府的监视行为有着种种弊端。另一方面，当我们不断把过于私人、暴露或平庸乏味的信息上传到应用软件或分享给社交媒体上的“粉丝”时，我们对于隐私的界定似乎越来越开放。

比如说，我担心失去隐私，却自愿并习惯性地借此来换取便利。选择餐厅的时候，我可以不用碰运气；Yelp会告诉我哪家最好，并把我带到餐厅门口。我再不用担心公共交通突发的延误；谷歌地图会告诉我最快的路线，必要时可以优步叫车送我到目的地，再偏僻的小路它都认识。我无需再记住朋友们的生日；Facebook会给我发推送，一如既往地诱使我发一条状态，告诉大家我还活着。为了利用这些应用软件，我需要做的只是把自己的位置、习惯乃至信仰对这些软件的母公司透明公开，以便其随时调出我的信息。

这是一种怎样的情形？“可见度是一个陷阱，”法国哲学家米歇尔·福柯在《规训与惩罚：监狱的诞生》（1975）中写道。他的意思是，让自己处于监视之中，并尝试监视他人，是极具诱惑力而又非常危险的。他引用杰里米·边沁在18世纪提出的“圆形监狱”概念：在这种监狱里，犯人被藏身于中央塔楼上的看守者监视着，看守可以看见犯人，犯人却看不见他。其用意就在于使犯人心存看守者无时不在的想法，这样不管塔楼上有人没人，犯人都会老老实实的。

福柯认为，圆形监狱的动态与整个社会内人们的自我监督有着惊人的相似。……