Earlier in May, Rotten Tomatoes deemed The Circle a cinematic flop. Over at the SubStandard podcast, Sonny Bunch described the book as “mediocre.” And yet, the novel demonstrates what many fear about social media: its uncanny ability to subsume the individual. But should people flee from its potential effects on users, societies, and governments? Or should they approach technology in a different way?
For its part, The Circle seems to suggest the former. With the help of Annie, her former college roommate, Mae gets hired as a customer service agent at the Circle—a highly influential business ruled by the mysterious “Three Wise Men.” Surrounded by the good life, Mae enters into several romances—first with a co-worker named Francis and then with a secretive individual named Kalden. And she gets to see the company’s power first-hand.
Yet, Mae cannot escape her humble past. Her father—a former parking lot manager—is unable to pay for his multiple sclerosis treatment, prompting Mae to put him on her insurance and install the Circle’s surveillance—or rather, “transparency”—technology throughout her parents’ home. A friend warns Mae that the Circle could use this power to punish the opposition, and she dismisses this concern as a conspiracy theory. But when Mae later faces legal troubles, the Circle makes her wear a camera as she publicly declares on social media that “secrets are lies,” “sharing is caring,” and “privacy is theft.”
Eggers’ concern about totalitarianism nevertheless serves as both the book’s strength and its weakness. There is something to be said about a novel with a singular focus. Its narrative is straightforward, its contrasts are stark, and the ideas contained therein are clearly conveyed to the reader. And such is the case as he slowly reveals the Circle’s ability to corrupt the proper relationship between technology, the state, society, and the individual. Here, the cameras go beyond acting as a check on government: the worker has no life outside of the Circle, the individual cannot escape online groupthink, and the country is eventually controlled by whoever supports the company’s interests.
Linear tracks, though, often lead to foregone conclusions. And no one in The Circle ever stops to consider whether there are other ways for individuals and institutions to coexist with technology.
A useful companion to Eggers’ novel is Malka Older’s Infomocracy. Here, Older envisions a future world not configured by the boundaries of the nation-state but by territories of 100,000 people called “centenals.” Technology is also integral to democratic governance: Every few years, there is a global election where each centenal votes for their preferred political party (which may be international or local). An independent monitor called Information then counts the tally, and whoever wins the majority within each location gets to rule over that particular centenal.
Accordingly, the plot follows the various intrigues of organizations like Heritage, Liberty, and Policy1st. As the agents try to gather intelligence on each other, an earthquake strikes Japan, scrambling their respective campaigns. But on voting day, Information unexpectedly crashes worldwide, and there is a break-in at a Tokyo hub. Fearing similar attempts, Mishima—an Information agent—and several others race to figure out who got inside. It then turns out that a major political party might have been involved, raising questions about how the system really works.
And as a political techno-thriller, Infomocracy is a great read. Not only is the action riveting, but Older also puts her academic background to good use, showing micro-democracy’s advantages as well as its flaws.
But even Infomocracy doesn’t answer the fundamental questions about maintaining a proper relationship between the individual, the community, and the state in our current technological age. Not that we should fault Older for this—given the Internet’s mixed political track record, the answer is obviously unclear. Yet, Mark Zuckerberg’s talking points are not enough. And unplugging will not be enough either. Because in the end, inasmuch as the created shapes the creator, the Internet is a tool shaped by its participants. Its problems—and its solutions—accordingly lie deeper than technology itself.
