masks and authenticity

If you grew up, as I did, at inception of the digital age, you likely received frequent warnings from adults to never share any identifiable information online. When I was about ten, I found a gorgeous chapter book emblazoned with holographic foil - The DotCom Kids - it warned me to never use my real name online. So did my mom, who was wary of online chat and communications entirely. In general, an atmosphere of paranoia about the subject prevailed.

At least, that was the initial message we received from our “elders” in the 1990s and early 2000s, before they themselves began to adopt the technology and wanted their own names and faces everywhere.

The truth is, though? They were right the first time, in some ways. Clearly, the internet doesn’t swarm with predators and bad actors, but still. In the vast majority of cases, you must be cautious giving out identifiable information online. Even something as simple as your name can be problematic depending on the venue. Yet nowadays, we see lots of people plastering their very public social media feeds with their names, ages, education, favorite IRL haunts, and more. The initial warnings are just faint echoes, and regarded as the quaint paranoia of a bygone era.

Surely, you can see a problem here. You’re on this site rather than others, after all, visiting a little webbed page and not Facebook or Instagram. Most of the folks I’ve met via my website, and on similar sites, understand the importance of information security, at least on some level. I don’t recommend paranoia, but rather, simple awareness.

A pen name or alias is a popular solution, and a perfectly workable one. It should not be adopted lightly, though. The very fact that you’re using an alias (rather than speaking anonymously or as yourself) influences your behavior. I have noticed this in myself, and I have noticed this in other people.

You’ve chosen to use an alias for a reason, after all, and the odd freedom it allows changes you a bit. This, in turn, shifts the way the internet behaves towards you. In this way, the usage of an alias (or aliases) shapes not only the way you express yourself online, but also your entire experience of the internet. Isn’t an alias a sort of mask? I would say that yes, yes it is.

I consider myself to have a special interest in masks. This has nothing to do with COVID19, and was a fixture long before it. It’s a rather long story, and I won’t bore you with it. Instead, let’s just skip to discussing masks.

Many find masks creepy or frightening, especially in the wake of said pandemic. I can’t quite blame them, given that those small pieces of cloth were a divisive signifier of a deadly plague. Beyond that, many find masks uncanny because they seem to conceal the “true self” of the wearer, obfuscating them and making them unknowable in a sense.

This misguided sense of unease doesn’t account for the autonomy of the individual and the act of choice - putting on the mask.

You have to ask yourself what really constitutes authenticity at this point in history. I cannot think of a thing more characteristic of authentic humanity than choice followed by willed action. It sounds ridiculously simple, but all choices express the “true self” in some way, even if that choice is to lie, steal, or cheat.

Masks obviously exist on different levels, but all serve some purpose to the wearer. Simply because they serve a purpose to the wearer, they express the self rather than hiding it. This can take toxic forms when people use masks to act in bad faith. In that case, of course, they’re expressing the self, yes - but the worst aspects of it. Sometimes, the self’s authentic expression is one of disingenuity, but even in that, there is a kernel of authenticity.

Sometimes, masks are a positive expression, though. I would argue, in fact, that in some circumstances, a mask is the ideal way of expressing oneself. This can be a matter of anonymity and safety, but is rarely so simple. To wear a mask after all, one must create a mask, and continuously so in many cases. This often involves the cultivation of a certain self-image in specific circumstances, however unconscious it may be initially. All creative acts express the self in some aspect, and we all know that can be enriching.

To craft a mask of this kind is to express a particular vision or aspect of yourself.

This needn’t take the form of building an elaborate persona, nor need it involve lying. A mask consists of one’s entire manner of interaction, from turns of phrase to profile pictures, chosen symbols, and more. You might tell yourself, “Well, I shall always post exactly as I am in every aspect.” Yet, even in that we see a commitment to a certain sort of appearance, and to choices dictating how (and if) one presents those aspects. Your best bet is always to consider what aspects of yourself you’d most like to show, and do your best to understand them, and your own motivations for them. This, in turn, guides expression.

Think of the self as a full spectrum of light, like a sunbeam. You can experience it as a whole. You might also see a rainbow, or see sunlight shining through stained glass, or shimmering on water, or reflected off green leaves - a whole spectrum of color unleashed. Each color expresses a portion of the spectrum, just a mask expresses a portion of the self. We’re each a sunbeam, too bright to behold (online, anyways) without any sort of tint or filter - and it is best if we carefully craft those filters ourselves.

You must cultivate and choose your “colors” so to speak, though. Do this with as much self-awareness of the process as possible, and you’re well ahead of most people in most online situations.

So, when does a true lack of authenticity arise? As I’ve said, I think masks can be authentic expressions, but every bit of this depends on you yourself both creating (mostly) and willingly donning the mask.If someone else shoves a mask on your face, though - a mask you didn’t create - you’re in trouble.

That’s partially the insidious role of the algorithms we’re seeing on social media. They can poison these masks, which often manifest superficially as our feeds or accounts (though their roots go much deeper by all indications). The constant flood of carefully-curated (often emotion-driven) material carves one’s masks into a shape palatable to the platform’s goals - marketing, data brokering, and other dubious aims.

Do you want that? If not, do your best to guard against it, ameliorate it, or dance alongside it at arm’s length.

Wear a mask and be yourself online? Is it possible? Tentatively, I’d say yes, and it’s become more important than ever.