Author: Stefania

[BigDataSur] Brazilian counter-surveillance collective action in a data sensitive era

What does datafication mean for social movement formation and work under the current crisis situation in Brazil? This article examines the Vidas Negras Importam (Black Lives Matter) emerging movement in Brazil, and the conditionings imposed on it by datafied surveillance systems.

 

By Simone da Silva Ribeiro Gomes

This article conveys reflections on one aspect of the datafied society: how police violence in plural Global Souths – not limited to the geographical connotation of the concept –  shape protest dynamics, with the example of recent manifestations in Brazil. Context is provided by the black, favela, and periphery residents marching through Rio de Janeiro on June 7, in the #VidasNegrasImportam (#BlackLivesMatter) protest against racism. For the second Sunday in a row, the streets throughout Brazil were filled by protest for Black Lives, motivated by protests in the US for George Floyd springing up in late May. The protesters marched in opposition to the State’s policies, in relation to the intensification of social vulnerability amid the country’s COVID-19 triggered economic and public health crisis as well as the unceasing police violence in the favelas during the coronavirus pandemic.

Rio de Janeiro´s Military Police also conveyed orientations in their Twitter account, asking protestors on their way to the march not to bring hand sanitizer in quantities larger than 50ml.

In a city where 80% of people killed by police in the first half of 2019 were black, and state violence only keeps increasing in the favelas, in the midst of the pandemic, protests were called in response to the murder of Matheus Oliveira, a young black favela resident shot by the police while he was returning home. Between January and June 2020, police in the state of Rio de Janeiro killed 881 people, about five per day, a significant increase on the last few years, for instance in 2018 1,534 people were killed by police officers.

That way, black, poor, favela, and periphery youth filled downtown Rio de Janeiro´s main avenue, marching despite rumors of police repression on social media and criticism questioning the merits of risking COVID-19 infection for an in-person protest in the streets. The police frisked protestors on their way to the march in pick-up trucks and on motorcycles, on horseback and on foot, police wielded batons, rubber-bullet rifles, and gas cannons, intimidating protestors. But the dynamics that unfolded include the information on hand sanitizer by police themselves, with emblematic consequences since there is no municipal or state-level decree restricting the quantity of hand sanitizer one can carry for personal use. What police forces do is also to use this as justification to detain protesters on their way out of the protest. Police forces then, in Brazil, but also in Mexico and other Latin-American countries have securitized protests in order to criminalize dissent and the dynamics of social movements in those contexts differ from the North, where resistance does not frequently face “hard” techniques of repression: preemptive arrests, surveillance, riot police, arrests, prosecution, and incarceration.

Even if studies reveal that digital monitoring may have a dampening effect on police use of force, videos of excessive force show the persistence of violations (Harcourt, 2015). Still, surveillance concerns pose different threats for southern black poor favela protestors in the Global South, even if the growing state security apparatus to control and repress protests is worrisome all around the world, frequently made possible by drones, crescently used to monitor, repress and eliminate targets.

Nonetheless, protesters in Brazil echo police warnings to avoid further trouble. People who could not be on the streets – due to pandemics – were asked to share activist´s posts and give visibility to their actions. Those highly aired information in recent protests are enlightening of some of the consequences of datafication in collective action. The paradigm change able to transform “social movement society” here urges scholars to reflect on how it intersects with known protest dynamics, my intention is to share reflections on how movements will be organized while the pandemics last. This reflection is shared to unveil some nuances of protesting in pandemic times in police violence related contexts and cop watching is a trademark of violence related contexts. It increasingly takes place in Brazil and other contexts of the Global South.

That way, Brazil has seen the proliferation of digital technologies originally attributed to state and company surveillance to protest countersue, as a way to protect themselves and protest innovations are more evident with populations where State abuse is more frequent. The impact of COVID-19 on the Souths here has to do with both surveillance and grassroots efforts to counter narratives of long time negotiations between protestors and police forces, specially young, poor, black favela residents, that are daily surveilled and disrespected in their houses, but also develop counter-surveillance strategies to tackle police abuse, as large scale Cop watching.

What strikes as unprecedented in Global North outside racial protests, but seem ubiquitous in Brazil is police violence. An overall view of orientations for protesters in pandemic times, made in the US, for example, do not consider what was mentioned above. However, if global activists have a history in the 20th century of self entitled “police accountability”, they somehow turned from more communal, organized, intentional documentation of police to more individualized, incidental documentation by independent protesters. There is an extensive literature on cop watch and surveillance in the last few years. In Brazil, massive protests in June 2013 are among the visible origins of more intensive and rationalized Cop Watching.

Some challenges for future protests in the Global South are highlighted in how they originally rely on the logic of numbers, how can the relevance of these movements is affected by the prohibition of big gatherings, since they cannot proceed with their usual repertoires of protest. Also, as mass media have played an important part in disseminating on/about social movements and technologies have reinforced some monopolies in this pandemic period, we must turn visible alternative uses of counter-stream technologies, such as one-a-one police accountability Cop Watching.

Nonetheless, activism is also working on those terms, aside from protesting to end violent policing, there are civil initiatives fighting the government’s use of harmful face surveillance technology, for instance. Later this month two major vendors of face surveillance technology – Amazon and IBM – announced that in light of recent protests against police brutality and racial injustice, they would pause or end their sale of this technology to police. The movement to ban face recognition is increasing as recent protests have shown their strength in fighting tech companies enable and profit off of a system of a racist surveillance and policing.

It is no wonder in Brazil that Optical Character Recognition – OC have been widely supported by the federal government and recently implemented in some states, showing flaws that increased the mass incarceration of young, black favela habitants. The same ones that know how data insensibility policies are dire for them, as 90,5% of incarcerated by facial monitoring in Brazil are Black. It is no wonder then how not only surveillance seems to work differently in global North and South, with more police violence in the second case and Cop Watching has come to stay. Counter-surveillance then, must be taken into account how social control of movements works, not just repressing activists, but the terrain upon which they operate and the most immediate struggles they must transform in order to succeed.

This article briefly analyzed the rise of securitization of protests by Latin-American to criminalize dissent. I have stated how the dynamics of southern movements – with similar causes, such as racism – differ substantively from the Global North. In this context, Brazilian Military Police is highlighted as its “hard” techniques of repression have gained attention in the shift of its deployiment of force on black, poor, favela youth outside their houses, but on the streets, protesting against racism. In the last few months, strategies of counter-surveillance collective such as Cop Watching have gained relevance in social movements that fight human rights abuse. Some challenges for the future include how activists will cope with the consequences of datafication and violence in collective action. We will see.

 

About the author

Simone da Silva Ribeiro Gomes is an Assistant Professor of Social Sciences at Universidade Federal de Pelotas (UFPel), in Pelotas-RS, Brazil. Simone can be found on Twitter @sims_zg.

 

 

 

 

[BigDataSur-COVID] The LGBTQ+ community during the COVID-19 pandemic in Brazil

At a time when the World Health Organization and other government officials say “do stay at home!”, which home does the LGBTQ+ community has the option to stay in? This article illuminates the struggles lived by the LGBTQ+ community during the COVID-19 crisis, also illustrating some of the initiatives taken in response.

 

By Ricardo H. D. Rohm e José Otávio A. L. Martins 

On May 17th the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia was celebrated, a date aiming to promote international events that raise awareness of LGBTQ+ rights violations worldwide. This date was chosen due to the decision of the World Health Organization (WHO) to remove the term “homosexuality” from the list of mental disorders of the International Classification of Diseases in 1990, disregarding homosexuality as a pathology. Even though the date is now remembered as the day against LGBTQphobia, it is important to remember that the so-called “gender incongruence” was only removed by the WHO from the International Classification of Diseases and Related Health Problems (ICD 11) on June 18, 2018.

This date is a great achievement for the LGBTQ+ community, especially if we consider the context in which the decision took place – the early 1990s, still reverberating the spread of AIDS. For the LGBTQ+ community, notably for those who were born in the 1950s and 1960s and fully experienced the demonization of their bodies during the 1980s, the situation in which we live today, with the COVID-19 pandemic, recalls painful memories.

Still recovering from being considered as the source and proliferator of HIV/AIDS, the “gay cancer”, the LGBTQ+ community seems nowadays once again being held accountable by some authorities and public personalities, without grounds other than homophobia, for the current pandemic, as we can see in examples in the United States,  Israel, and  Iraq. Situations like these portray the constant and hostile prejudice, discrimination, and attack which the LGBTQ+ community suffers, day after day, year after year, century after century. Even if we are not at the heart of the matter, we are blamed for it.

This system of oppression constantly puts our community in a situation of social and emotional vulnerability. The vast majority only lives in the fullness of their sexual orientation and gender identity far away from the utopian coziness which family and home should symbolize. Many LGBTQ+ people, however, are only free when they are among friends, a chosen family, lovers, on a stage performing with a wig on or waving their flags, once a year, at the pride parades. This distance from their family and home could be by choice, when it is unbearable to cope with prejudice, or not – just like when they are rejected, abused, or thrown out of their home. We should ask again, therefore, at a time when the WHO and other government officials say “do stay at home!”, which home does the LGBTQ+ community has the option to stay in?

In Marseille, France, a couple was kicked out of the apartment they rented because they were “the first to be contaminated” by the COVID-19, an affirmation that has no scientific base, just homophobia. Exposed to a peculiar extra vulnerability now, which increases the existing one which the LGBTQ+ population has been facing, our community is even more targeted within the coronavirus crisis, as pointed out by the High Commissioner for Human Rights of the United Nations (UN),  Michelle Bachelet.

The UN draws attention to those who are HIV positive in the LGBTQ+ community. In Brazil, HIV among men who have sex with men is a reality classified as an epidemic and, although they are not part of the risk group, they do have a specific health care routine and ongoing medical treatments which require, for example, going out to withdraw retroviral drugs in health units. The UN also reinforces the importance of the local authorities to ensure the maintenance of these treatments and the continuous supply of HIV medication during the pandemic, not allowing prejudices to affect access and availability of these drugs.

Other health issues raise worries when we are facing the dissemination of a virus which attacks the respiratory system. Some Studies show that the LGBTQ+ population uses tobacco at rates that are 50% higher than the general population. The community still has a significant amount of people with cancer and, consequently, with a fragile immune system. It is important to note that LGBTQ+ people are historically discriminated by both health employees and the health system itself. As a result, many are reluctant to seek medical care, even in urgent situations. That can mean a health risk in times of COVID-19.

Talking about employment issues in Brazil, a national survey conducted by the group #VoteLGBT, with the participation of researchers from two major Brazilian universities, points out that, within the LGBTQ+ community, 21.6% of respondents are unemployed and 20.7% have no income. This survey was conducted through online questionnaires, therefore, there is a considerable possibility that it has not reached some of the most vulnerable people in the community and the results could be worrisome. It is also relevant to highlight the difficulty in the  access to income by trans and transvestite women who are sex workers  (90% of Brazilian trans population uses prostitution as a source of income) who, in times of social distancing, can no longer carry out their activities, losing their source of income (unless able to resort to virtual sessions instead).

Opening a short parenthesis to talk about the trans population, as if the suffering of the most vulnerable portion of the LGBTQ+ community was not enough, transphobia does not cease during a pandemic. Some Latin American countries have determined that, among the measures of social distancing, men and women can only leave their houses on separate days. There have been cases of trans women being fined for leaving their home on the day designated for women, making the pandemic period even more difficult for the trans population, who in addition to fighting the virus, has to still fight to reaffirm who they are.

Addressing the issues associated with staying at home during the pandemic and the difficulty of finding a safe place to be protected, a global survey conducted by the relationships app Hornet, with gay, bisexual, cis or transgender men points out that 1 out of 3 men feels physically and emotionally insecure in their own homes. The reasons are not only due to the intrafamilial prejudice, for those who live with their families, but also the loneliness of those living alone – data from #VoteLGBT`s survey also pointed out that 28% of the Brazilian respondents have been diagnosed with depression, which worsens the scenario presented  by Hornet`s survey.

When talking about LGBTQ+ people who are unable to earn a living or who have been kicked off from their families’ homes, an alternative to survival are the shelters (in Portuguese “Casas de Acolhimento”), present in several cities in Brazil. Although each has its administration, they support each other on joint projects to collect donations and carry out cultural actions. In addition to a shelter, they provide food and personal hygiene products for marginalized LGBTQ+ people, as well as develop academic, capacitation, and cultural activities for their residents and the external public, always relying on donations and sponsorships to maintain their activities. During the pandemic, where everything is more urgent and scarce compared to normal times, the shelters see the decrease of donations while the requests for shelter are increasing.

Initiatives to cope with this scenario

Amid the plight that the LGBTQ+ community faces today, some initiatives deserve not only visibility but also our support. They are the result of the mobilization of the community itself and, eventually, with the support of some LGBTQ-friendly companies and celebrities. Links to the initiative and organizations are copied herein under to bring awareness and visibility to the cause.

Speaking about the shelters mentioned above, some fundraising initiatives have managed to obtain significant support to these institutions in this time of crisis. A virtual live concert with a famous Brazilian DJ organized by NGO Casinha, produced by Tenho Orgulho, FestivalUniverso, and  TODXSraised more than 5,000 BRL for organizations such as Casa Nem,  LGBT+ Movimento and for Casainha itself. Another virtual live concert titled Festival do Orgulho was organized by Amstel Brewery and payment app AME. The Festival was headlined by artists of great national visibility (among them singer/drag queen Pabllo Vittar) and raised 115,000 BRL that were donated to the NGOs  Casa Florescer, Grupo Pela Vidda and  Projeto Séfora’s,  Família Stronger and Arco Íris de Ribeirão Preto

Another fundraising initiative for shelters across the country – in this case, without musical performances – was the crowdfunding organized by All Out Brazil movement to support these institutions in their maintenance, purchase, and distribution of cleaning and hygiene materials, as well as food. The initiative raised approximately 54,000 BRL and will benefit  CasAmor LGBTQI+  (Aracaju),  Astra Human Rights and LGBT Citizenship | Acódi LGBT  (Aracaju),  Casa Transformar  (Fortaleza), Casa Miga Acolhimento LGBT+  (Manaus),  Casa da Diversidade Niterói  (Niterói),  Transviver  (Recife), CasaNem (Rio de Janeiro), Casa Aurora  (Salvador), Casa dos Direitos da Baixada  (São João de Meriti), Casa Chama  (São Paulo), Casa Florescer 1 (São Paulo) and Casa Florescer 2 (São Paulo).

Another initiative, linked to the arts, was created by #VoteLGBT, the same group which conducted the aforementioned survey. Created during quarantine, LGBTFLIX is a free-access platform, not linked to any streaming service, that compiles more than 200 LGBTQ+ themed short films! The initiative aims to bring entertainment to the LGBTQ+ community during this period of social isolation; on the platform, you can choose short films with homosexual, bisexual or transgender themes.

Some nationwide initiatives are still ongoing and accepting donations. One of them is The Emergency Fund for TRANS people organized by Casa Chama, in São Paulo, which has already raised 83,000 BRL (all information about this initiative is listed in this link).

Those initiatives show a path of light amid so many adversities and also the capacity of the LGBTQ+ community to once again unite efforts to face another major challenge with COVID-19. It is essential to understand the reality of the LGBTQ+ community during this pandemic, to highlight good movements that have already accomplished significant results and call on everyone to support initiatives such as those mentioned herein, not only during the pandemic. With prudence, responsibility, union, and following scientific and WHO`s guidelines the COVID-19 pandemic will be surpassed.

 

About the authors

Dr. Ricardo Rohm is associate professor at the Faculty of Administration of the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro. Founder and coordinator of the Study and Research Program in Human Development, Transformational Leadership Training and Social Governance: pep-rohm.facc.ufrj.br – rohm@facc.ufrj.br

José Otávio Martins is an undergraduate student at the Faculty of Administration of the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro and also an intern in research at the PEP-ROHM Program. zeotavioalm@gmail.com

 

 

 

[BigDataSur-COVID] Liberating COVID-19 data with volunteers in Brazil

While the government limits access to information, data activists are consolidating and structuring COVID-19 data for open access.

 

by Peter Füssy

While healthcare workers fight the coronavirus pandemic with drugs and ventilators, journalists and data activists try to tackle the infodemic with numbers and visualizations. In Brazil, it is difficult to tell who is winning those battles as the death toll continues to rise and president Jair Bolsonaro “continues to sow confusion by openly flouting and discouraging the sensible measures of physical distancing and lockdown”, according to an editorial from the journal The Lancet. Mixing a historical lack of capacity and an attempt to control the narrative of the crisis, the federal government provides poor quality numbers about COVID-19, reinforcing the fact that beyond producing knowledge to deal with a problem, data (or the lack of data) “can also shape perceived realities” as Renzi and Langlois claim.

As a result of federal administration decisions, Brazil is one of the countries that test less for the virus in relation to the population and has a peculiar COVID-19 dashboard that shows first the number of recovered cases with larger font sizes, then new cases and deaths with smaller fonts. For one week in June, the total toll of cases and deaths was completely removed from the dashboard to reappear after intense criticism. The Brazilian government also cancelled the daily press conferences and started to release pandemic reports after the most-watched TV news program in the country. All of these decisions are seen by the media and independent organizations as authoritarian, insensitive attempts to make COVID-19 deaths invisible.

Photo credits: covid.saude.gov.br

Brazil’s Ministry of Health dashboard highlights recovered cases estimation (Source: covid.saude.gov.br)

Beyond that, the Ministry of Health breaks numbers only by states (in Brazil, one state can be as large as France, Spain and Sweden combined), which means that the local dimensions of the problem are mostly ignored. The government had promised information by cities but never delivered and, to make it worse, switched the total report format from an open format (CSV) to a closed one (Microsoft Excel) in the middle of the pandemic. As I discussed previously in this blog post, Bolsonaro’s regime has been limiting access to information since the beginning. The institutional resistance to transparency has only become more evident with the health crisis.

In response to that, during the pandemic, data activism assumed governmental functions providing the numbers to substantiate decisions on a variety of levels, from NGOs (1, 2) to policymakers (1, 2) which use open data from activist group Brasil.IO. Trying to reduce the “data gap” characteristic from countries of the Global South, data activists and other organizations from civil society are collecting and structuring COVID-19 data. Besides Brasil.IO, journalists from six major newspapers and news portals are working together to provide independent total numbers of COVID-19 deaths and confirmed cases, while a data intelligence consultant is crowdfunding another COVID-19 monitor. Initiatives like those work with primary sources, allowing news production and research to be less dependent on problematic federal reports.

In the case of Brazil, more than making people visible and represented through the concept of data justice or advocating for social change, data activism is essential to challenge the state narrative about the pandemic and to prevent more deaths from COVID-19. If it depends on data activism and data journalism, Brazilian democracy will not die in the dark.

Brasil.IO case

One group of volunteers taking over the Brazilian government responsibilities is part of the Brasil.IO initiative. Their COVID-19 project includes data from more than 5.500 municipalities and other sources, such as notaries, making sub notification of cases and deaths visible. The data have been used by major newspapers and news broadcasters, including The New York Times, CNN and BBC. Scientific research is also relying on their data to produce comparative studies and forecasting.

Figures from the project indicate not only underreporting but also the delay in the official balances of COVID-19 deaths. For instance, the Ministry of Health announced that the country had reached a thousand deaths on April 11, while Brasil.IO’s platform pointed to the same number six days earlier. If undercounting promotes the discourse that minimizes the health crisis, data activism can liberate the numbers to public scrutiny.

Social media call and operationalization

Seeing the lack of structured data about COVID-19, founder of the non-profit organization Brasil.IO, Álvaro Justen, tweeted a call for volunteers to help in collecting data manually from all the 27 federative units on March 20. Rapidly, 34 volunteers answered the tweet (most of them are data journalists or software developers). “Fortunately, I have several friends and contacts who work with journalism and data and it was not difficult to find volunteers”, said Justen in an interview via email.

Photo credits: @turicas/Twitter

The group spent one whole weekend manually tabulating hundreds of epidemiological bulletins from state health departments since the beginning of the pandemic. Because of the urgency, they started with Google Spreadsheets to consolidate data. After the first round, the spreadsheets with the most recent numbers started to feed directly into the reformulated Brasil.IO platform, which uses Python, Django and PostgreSQL in the backend.

All communication is made with an open-source chat platform (Rocket.Chat), while publicization of updates and new insights appear on Twitter and in a Telegram group. Scripts for automated processes, such as scraping, monitoring, checking data, generating internal reports, and consolidating data are available at GitHub. For example, the group uses a robot to send notifications to the chat when one State Health Secretariat updates COVID-19 numbers.

Improving data quality

Due to the issues with data quality, a considerable part of the data collection is made manually by the volunteers. Besides collecting and checking data, volunteers also carry out the task of contacting health secretariats to recommend good data practices and ask them to make changes, so the data is more accessible via automated processes. “Not all respond satisfactorily but most of them are willing to collaborate in some way. With time and pressure, some things are improving but not in speed that a pandemic requires”, Justen points out.

In order to create an open data culture in Brazil, Justen has worked in databases and improved tools to facilitate data extracting from inaccessible formats since 2013. One emblematic example is a dataset that includes more than 500 thousand companies, and its shareholders, registered at the Brazilian Internal Revenue Service (Receita Federal). After the 2011’s Freedom of Information (FOI) act, that information should be publicly available and accessible to be read by robots. However, the page hosting the data used captchas to limit access. After several requests via FOI in 2018, the demand was denied with a link to a system that sold the data for R$ 506,000. Justen and other data activists pressured the IRS, which finally sent the dataset in a USB drive.

As everything is done on a voluntary basis and the data are available free of charge for everyone, one of the challenges of the project is about financial funding. “We don’t have that much time to work on the project and, therefore not everything advances at the speed we would like”, tells Justen. To help with this issue, they started a crowdfunding campaign to hire developers, making it possible to add new datasets that can be useful to “flatten the curve” of coronavirus in Brazil.

Brasil.IO’s manifesto defines the process of collecting, converting, cleaning and making data available in a structured and open format as ‘data liberation’. As stated in the manifesto, “liberating” access to public data is to make democracy less elitist. However, in the exceptional circumstances of the COVID-19 response in Brazil, liberating data seems to be fundamental to keep democracy and save lives.

[BigDataSur] “WhatsApper-ing” alone will not save Brazilian political disarray: An investigation of the affordances of WhatsApp under Bolsonarism

This article reflects on the role of “WhatsAppers”, defined as social activists appropriating WhatsApp as a primary platform to organize and communicate, in relation with the rise of Bolsonarism in Brazil. Affordances of WhatsApp usage by social actors are explored in the light of responses to Bolsonarism, along with their implications in the current time of crisis.

By Sérgio Barbosa

Leia em portugues

The research illustrated explores the affordances of WhatsApp and its appropriation by the WhatsAppers in Brazil, here defined as social activists appropriating WhatsApp as a primary platform to organize and communicate. I explore the importance of the Global South context in shaping such affordances, focusing on local epistemologies which bypass the structure of mainstream Brazilian media. As illustrated elsewhere, the empirical analysis combined different qualitative methods, yielding insights into the communication and action repertoire of the group studied, not without considering reflections on research ethics and their implications in the context studied.

WhatsAppers: Towards a new research agenda

This research stems from an analysis of the social interactions of UnidosContraOGolpe (UCG), a leftist group in Brazil, which was a WhatsApp “private group” emerged in 2016 to oppose the controversial impeachment of the then-president Dilma Rousseff. The case study resulted into the first empirical MA dissertation in Latin America to explore digital activism on WhatsApp private chats as an emerging field of political action. To do so, a ‘meso-micro’ analysis was used – on the meso level, to identify the modus operandi of group interactions and, on the micro level, to capture individual motivations, tensions, and expectations. At the core of the investigation, the researcher’s identity was disclosed, following social actors through their chat environment and adopting an ‘engaged’ approach, whereby the research is designed with the goal of empowering social actors. In practical terms, this inspired a triangulation of qualitative methods, including digital ethnography (to identify and analyze the practice of social actors inside the chat domain, through a long “zoom” perspective on social interactions in the private chat group), content analysis of selected posts (to understand how the group emerged organically and self-organized in a contingent manner) and fifteen in-depth semi-structured interviews (to elicit values and motivations from the perspective of individual active participants).

This dissertation argues that WhatsAppers are characterized by their ability to appropriate the chat group as a means to participate in political life. Engagement with political activism becomes an intimate and familiar affair, mediated by a personal and omnipresent device, that enables a unique approach to mobilization. In general lines, everyone could be a WhatsApper, including those not previously politically active. A WhatsApper could be someone who already is entwined in other social media networks of politics and mobilization or not; they can be someone from a poor, middle or rich class background. In other words, WhatsAppers interact digitally with others, combining online and offline political actions. Through the lens of digital sociology, the case studied reveals that WhatsApp stands out as a platform for civic engagement, promoting new spaces of digital activism for three main reasons: the chat app (1) affords structurally new forms of political participation and collective engagement, (2) forges communities of mutual interest, and (3) promotes collective decision-making and individual autonomous actions on a small scale. However, drawbacks are found in howbots can influence conversations on WhatsApp, fake users can hijack chats, and group members may be threatened by surveillance attacks.

Bolsonarism: into the Brazilian political crisis

In 2019, the first year of Jair Bolsonaro’s government, Brazil has seen a record deforestation and a drop to zero applications of environmental fines. Bolsonaro nominated a human rights minister who was well-known for preaching sexual abstinence as a state policy. Sons of the president are under investigation of crime and corruption. Also, Bolsonaro has nominated a secretary of culture extolling Nazi propaganda. Moreover, every week the Brazilian “anti-president” openly attacks the press, and recently was considered the worst leader to struggle against the Coronavirus pandemic.

The political scenario in which Bolsonarism surges is widely recognized as reflecting a crisis of political representation and the widespread disbelief in politics and traditional parties. Bolsonarism can be understood as “a political phenomenon that transcends the figure of Bolsonaro and is characterized by an ultra-conservative worldview, returning to traditional values and nationalist and patriotic rhetoric”. Facing this scenario, an urgent question should be addressed: what is really happening to Brazilian democracy?

Looking back, looking forward

Brazil is an extremely unequal country along multiple dimensions that include internet access. Part of the semi-illiterate population gathers their information almost solely through visual messages, audios and videos from thousands of WhatsApp groups, thanks to the “zero rating” fees provided by telecom companies that replaced more expensive short-text messages. The larger context of Latin America makes an excellent test bed for the study of WhatsApp social interactions because “96 percent of Brazilians with access to a smartphone use WhatsApp as primary method of interpersonal communication”. According to the Reuters Institute, 53 percent of Brazilians use “ZapZap” (as the app is commonly known in the country) to find and consume news. Everyday citizens also use “ZapZap” to order pizza, stay in touch with family, transfer money, make doctor appointments, learn, spread gossip and date.

While the leftist “UCG” WhatsAppers were calling for political action, far right activists were articulating themselves in WhatsApp private groups and beyond, also combining online and offline activities. Progressive sectors were as well unable to build a national digital campaign, with very rare exceptions, such as small local initiatives like UCG. Consequently, the potential of digital activism on chat apps was later weaponized by far-right groups that not only appropriated public and private groups on and with WhatsApp, but also acted as pipeline to other social media. Digital information became a “weapon” that is still used in “out of control” mode nowadays by Bolsonaro’s supporters, taking advantage of the high penetration of WhatsApp in Brazil, and facilitated by the limited digital literacy of the population. In fact, Bolsonaro ran a successful campaign in 2018 based on a combination of bottom-up authoritarianism and digital populism. His supporters were helped by bots to spread misleading content “weaponizing” various WhatsApp groups.

 

COVID-19: creative WhatsAppers from the margins

This case presents important implications for the ongoing crisis. Brazilian citizens are currently bombarded with COVID-19 related disinformation and facing a chaotic portrait, while far right activists occupied larges spaces on digital networks before and after the 2018 elections. Moreover, there are lessons learned from the inability to stop Bolsonarism’s digital army, namely: send messages which everyday citizens can trust. Today, Brazilians behave more and more like consumers instead of citizens, trusting the market more than science – perhaps this is precisely the gap that paves our country for thousands of deaths during the coronavirus pandemic.

Brazilian mainstream media are currently discussing who might be a potential presidential candidate for the next elections in 2022. However, a deeper question is whether democratic values will still be upheld at that time. The composition of Bolsonaro’s government reminds us that Brazilian’s young democracy is now more capitalist, colonialist, patriarchaland is heading towards a dangerous and irresponsible political adventure, and the outcomes are unpredictable. During the pandemic, social distancing, hand washing, hand sanitizers, masks, respirator machines and lockdowns are privileges of the Global North, while in the South, many will not even have access to minimum services.

As the title suggests, using WhatsApp for chatting and hanging out alone will not solve the political Brazilian disarray, but perhaps creative WhatsAppers could provide a spark to create national-transnational solidarity. Namely: high speed participatory decision-making to deliver groceries, collect money, produce masks, share scientific information, mobilize against COVID-19 related disinformation, reach poor families and fight for emergent democratic imaginaries. The UCG case study still works as a well-informed internal communication strategy for connecting and activating social solidarity networks that grounds for hope, especially because it reveals the battlefield of political struggle that enables scientific shared information, civic engagement, collective mobilization, and solidarity. Lastly, the coordination of online activities combined with actions on the ground by WhatsAppers triggers digital activism in times of pandemic.

 

About the author

Sérgio Barbosa is a PhD candidate in the program “Democracy in the Twenty-First Century” in the Centre for Social Studies (CES), at the University of Coimbra and a Sylff fellow sponsored by Tokyo Foundation for Policy Research. He is a member of the Technopolitics – a “Latin” research network connecting Brazil and Ecuador with Spain, Portugal and Italy. His research explores the emerging forms of political participation vis-à-vis the possibilities afforded by chat apps, with emphasis on WhatsApp for digital activism and social mobilization

 

Acknowledgments

The author thanks Silvia Masiero for her careful review (and beyond) and wishes to thank Charlotth Back and Jeroen de Vos for their comments and suggestions. He extends his gratitude also to Stefania Milan and Emiliano Treré for launching Big Data from the South initiative. This blogpost has received funding from the Sylff (Ryoichi Sasakawa Young Leaders Fellowship Fund) Research Abroad – SRA fellowship sponsored by the Tokyo Foundation for Policy Research.

[BigDataSur-COVID] Gerenciando incertezas às próprias custas: Motoristas Uber sob a pandemia no Brasil

Enquanto o Brasil se torna o novo epicentro da pandemia, motoristas Uber precisam escolher entre arriscar seu bem estar e desistir de sua principal fonte de renda. O que há de novo nisso? Conversamos com três motoristas de Belo Horizonte para descobrir.

Por Ana Guerra

Read in English

O Brasil é o maior mercado da Uber fora dos Estados Unidos, com mais de um milhão de “parceiros”. Recentemente, o país bateu outro recorde como a pior eclosão de COVID-19 no mundo depois dos Estados Unidos, com 772.416 casos confirmados e mais de 39.000 mortes até 11 de junho. Este artigo explora o impacto da pandemia em uma população social e economicamente marginalizada: motoristas Uber. Ele traz à tona preocupações que povoam seu cotidiano enquanto circulam pelas ruas de Belo Horizonte, a sexta cidade mais populosa do Brasil.

Por dentro dos modelos preditivos da Uber

A plataforma transnacional, que opera em 63 mercados nacionais pelo mundo, é conhecida como um exemplo da economia sob-demanda, ou “economia de bicos”. Se por um lado ela confere um certo grau de independência aos trabalhadores, por outro, não os fornece estabilidade ou qualquer tipo de proteção . Trabalhando sob um regime de trabalho altamente datificado os motoristas se veem em meio a rotinas exaustivas e privados de direitos trabalhistas, já que não são classificados como empregados.

Como esse modelo funciona? A plataforma emprega uma série de técnicas de gerenciamento algorítmico da força de trabalho dos motoristas a partir da combinação entre um ideal de livre mercado autorregulado e análise preditiva, o que costuma ser apresentado como um modo de minimizar incertezas e ajudar os motoristas a tomarem decisões mais lucrativa. so se torna possível graças à contínua coleta e processamento de dados sobre padrões de trânsito e localização e comportamentos de passageiros e motoristas. Os esforços tanto de desenvolvimento, quanto retóricos da empresa evidenciam a ambição de gerenciar e mitigar incertezas.  Isso é ilustrado pelas soluções de forecasting da plataformas, voltadas para a predição e o gerenciamento das dinâmicas espaço-temporais do que é chamado de “mundo real”, conforme é visível em publicações no blog de engenharia da Uber e em aplicações de patente, por exemplo.   O desejo de antecipar dinâmicas futuras por meio de dados também é evidenciada peloque Rosenblat and Stark  chamam “trabalho algorítmico” dos motoristas Uber.

A Uber é um caso paradigmático de precarização do trabalho pelo que é conhecido como “economia de bicos” ou “economia de compartilhamento”. De certa forma, não surpreende que este processo seja frequentemente chamado de “uberização do trabalho”.  A incorporação de modelos preditivos à rotina dos motoristas reverbera o que Adrian Mackenzie identifica como uma generalização da predição na vida cotidiana, ou seja, a presença crescente da ordenação algorítmica de preferências e recomendações, reconhecimento de padrões e previsão de demanda voltados à estabilização de resultados e ações futuros.

A mistura perigosa de performances datificadas, precarização e informalização do trabalho, e pobreza é particularmente tóxica durante uma pandemia que vem se caracterizando pela incerteza que impregna todas as esferas da vida.

Managing uncertainty in a pandemic

Desde que a Covid-19 passou a tomar conta dos nossos pensamentos e afetos, o mundo real parece estar se tornando ainda mais real, e nossa relação com a predição, um pouco mais íntima. O mundo como o conhecemos está se transformando rapidamente, e às vezes é difícil acompanhar os números que nos dizem o que está acontecendo hoje e o que esperar do amanhã: quantos casos? Quantos mortos? Quantos dias até voltarmos ao “normal”? A resposta muda dia após dia. O novo coronavírus distorceu nossa experiência de tempo e espaço. Um agente invisível, que podemos ou não estar carregando dentro de nossas células ou na superfície de nossas roupas, rapidamente perturbou as referências sólidas em torno das quais nos acostumamos a organizar nossas rotinas Enquanto uma ampla variedade de dados, modelos preditivos, projeções e representações visuais tentam tornar seus efeitos um pouco mais inteligíveis, o desconhecido continua encontrando modos de nos confrontar por ângulos inesperados. Qualquer lampejo de certeza rapidamente se prova efêmero e nenhuma projeção ou infográfico animado dá conta de amenizar isso. De certa forma, nossa narrativa dataísta que privilegia ideais de verdade datificados e orientados para a predição é progressivamente desestabilizada. A noção de “dataísmo”, como explica José van Dijck, diz de uma crença  na o “objetividade da quantificação” potencializada pela datificação do comportamento e da socialidade humanos em plataformas de mídia digital. Sim, continuamos contando  —  contando pacientes, contando leitos, contando corpos, contando os dias  —  mas nosso ritmo mudou.

Apesar da sensação globalizada de incerteza, alguns lugares parecem mais incertos do que outros. Aqui no Brasil, o novoepicentro da Covid-19, o “mundo real” encontra pitadas de realismo fantástico. Entre subnotificações, falta de testes, infindáveis conflitos entre os posicionamentos de autoridades de saúde e os do presidente Jair Bolsonaro, notícias sobre valas coletivas e notícias falsas sobre caixões cheios de pedra, os brasileiros se vêem em um cenário no mínimo caótico. Enquanto isso, o número de mortes segue aumentando à medida que as camadas mais pobres da população são afetadas pelo vírus e por um sistema econômico e social colapsado.

Entre aqueles apanhados pelo desamparo estão muitos dos motoristas Uber no Brasil. O país é o segundo maior mercado da Uber fora dos Estados Unidos. Desde que chegou por aqui em 2014, a plataforma rapidamente se posicionou como uma solução de mobilidade para comunidades mais pobres e menos assistidas pelo transporte público, forjando um papel quase infraestrutural. Ela chega onde muitos taxistas se recusam a ir e onde o transporte público é deficitário, como em favelas e periferias. Além disso, pegar um uber pode ser mais tão barato quanto pegar um ônibus, e, em geral,  muito mais rápido. Para além disso, ela também sustenta uma posição ambígua e privilegiada como uma salvadora em meio a altas taxas de desemprego, e muitos motoristas dependem da plataforma como principal fonte de renda. Neste momento, no entanto, os motoristas são forçados a desacelerar. Alguns relatam uma queda de 90% no movimento no movimento.

Lidando com tempos incertos: respostas da Uber vs. experiências dos motoristas

As respostas da Uber à pandemia fazem pouco para apaziguar a sensação de incerteza. Dentro do pacote de “recursos”direcionado a motoristas brasileiros, a plataforma anunciou uma “auxilio financeiro” com duração de até 14 dias para “parceiros” diagnosticados com Covid-19 ou classificados como casos suspeitos ou parte de grupos de risco. Sua elegibilidade deve ser atestada por documentos oficiais de autoridades de saúde contendo informações detalhadas. A assistência não tem um valor fixo, comum a todos os motoristas assistidos. Ao invés disso, a quantia a ser recebida é calculada com base nos rendimentos médios do motorista nos últimos três meses, estando intimamente vinculada à performance individual de cada um. A própria política que informa a assistência é efêmera parece  incerta e de curto prazo, já que a plataforma indica que podem ser atualizadas em pouco tempo. As regras descritas acima foram atualizadas no dia 17 de abril e eram válidas até o dia 8 de maio, tendo sido posteriormente estendidas até o dia 8 de junho. Tudo isso é exacerbado pelo tratamento paradoxal da noção de “risco”. Quando um motorista solicita a assistência, sua conta é automaticamente desativada, por motivos de segurança. Isso não garante, no entanto, que ele será atendido. O motorista é assim colocado em uma posição dúbia: ao mesmo tempo em que ele representa um risco, e portanto não pode trabalhar, ele não está em risco, e, por isso, não receberá nenhuma assistência.

Para conhecer melhor a perspectiva dos motoristas, entrevistei Giacomo, Antônio e Verón, três motoristas que trabalham na região metropolitana de Belo Horizonte, cidade populosa com mais de 2.5 milhões de habitantes e capital do estado de Minas Gerais. Também analisei mais de 50 comentários mais de 50 comentários deixados em uma postagem no YouTubepublicada por Samuel, um motorista e YouTuber que compartilhou minhas perguntas com seus seguidores. No momento da escrita deste artigo, todos os três entrevistados continuam trabalhando. Enquanto dirigem, o Sars-Cov-2 pode estar dando uma volta em seu banco de trás, um risco agravado pelo falta de cuidado de alguns passageiros. Giacomo estima que de dez passageiros por ele transportados, dois teriam usado máscara. A esposa de Antônio é diabética, grupo de risco para a Covid-19.  Ela precisa de uma dieta balanceada, e ele decidiu continuar trabalhando para que possam pagar por isso. Para se proteger, comprou máscaras e álcool em gel, e embora pudesse requerer um único reembolso no valor de R$20,00 oferecido pela Uber para aquisição de produtos de higiene, ele se optou por não fazê-lo. “Uma ajuda irrisória”, diz, “é um desaforo”. Os motoristas compartilham a sensação de que o movimento se afrouxou, o que significa ficar algumas horas parado dentro do carro esperando (e, portanto, sem ganhar). O trabalho ficou um pouco mais solitário. Após ter o filho de 19 anos assassinado, Verón relata ter ficado parado por mais de dois anos, “e aí eu conheci os aplicativos”. Desde então, ele vê dirigir para a Uber como um tipo de terapia e uma oportunidade para conhecer novas pessoas. Ele nota que desde o início da pandemia, os passageiros se tornaram menos inclinados a conversar durante as corridas.

A maior parte dos motoristas que responderam à postagem de Samuel parece terem desistido de dirigir por enquanto. Medo e segurança figuram como as principais razões para isso: “eu já andava com medo antes, imagina agora”, escreve um deles. Trabalhando ou não, os motoristas logo sentiram as consequências financeiras da pandemia. Muitos estão devolvendo os carros alugados (cerca de 160 mil, segundo informações de locadoras). Outros ainda não sabem como pagarão a próxima parcela do veículo que comparam precisamente para trabalharem como motoristas de aplicativo. Muitos recorreram ao auxílio emergencial do governo, no valor de R$ 600,00 mensais. Algumas das solicitações foram aceitas, algumas recusadas. A maioria dos motoristas segue encarando a mensagem “em análise” na tela de seus celulares e computadores, acompanhada da recomendação ambígua, com doses de cinismo, para “tentar novamente amanhã” — alguns deles vem “tentando novamente amanhã” há mais de um mês. Quanto à assistência da Uber, a grande parte dos motoristas não é elegível. Prevalece um sentimento geral de descrédito na “mãe Uber”, como alguns costumam se referir à plataforma, por vezes ironicamente, mas nem sempre: “a Uber não faz nada por nós”.

Mas a algo realmente sob o sol?

Quando lhes peço para descrever o atual momento em uma palavra, motoristas transitam entre “incerteza”, “medo”, “frustração” e “resiliência”, “perseverança”, “aprendizado”. Mas o que isso significa? Seriam estes sentimentos novos? Olhar para como a pandemia afetou motoristas Uber pode ser mais produtivo pelo que ela torna visível do que pelo que traz de novo. As circunstâncias em que nos encontramos nos convidam a desfamiliarizar um estado de precariedade recentemente atualizado, mas há muito naturalizado. Como sugere Judith Butler, quando perguntamos sobre as condições dos motoristas Uber sob a pandemia, “nós também estamos perguntando sobre as condições de vida e morte que sustentam a organização social do trabalho”.

A incerteza não é nenhuma novidade. Tanto quanto estão acostumados a serem “contados— trabalhando sob um regime altamente datificado, sendo continuamente atrelados às métricas de suas performances— os motoristas Uber também estão acostumados a contabilizar. Tentar estimar seus ganhos diários enquanto lidam com a taxa de serviço variável cobrada pela Uber ao fim de cada corrida, calcular gastos com combustível e manutenção, planejar o pagamento do aluguel ou das parcelas do carro, tudo isso é parte de sua rotina. Eles também dedicam tempo e energia à criação de estratégias e metas para otimizar sua produtividade. A vida como motorista Uber é marcada por uma orientação precária de à preditibilidade de curto prazo, enquanto o futuro continua obscuro.

Quando trazemos o risco de volta à equação, as condições de vida e morte se tornam ainda mais evidentes. Butler pergunta: “quem arrisca vida enquanto trabalha? quem trabalha até morrer?”. Trabalhar até morrer é uma metáfora um tanto comum para os motoristas. Como um dito motorista que entrevistei em 2018, pouco tempo após um dano causado a seu carro o impedir de trabalhar por mais de 20 dias, “agora é a hora que eu entro na Uber pra gastar. Enquanto o corpo aguentar, eu vou indo”. Infelizmente, a presença da morte vai além da metáfora. O medo da violência é um forte componente de experiência compartilhada dos motoristas que se veem vulneráveis a assaltos, sequestros e assassinatos. Não é raro nos depararmos com notícias sobre corpos de motoristas Uber encontrados algum tempo depois de serem reportados como desaparecidos.

Assim, enquanto o modelo de negócios e o desenvolvimento tecnológico da Uber gira em torno da mitigação de incertezas por meio de processamento de dados e modelos preditivos, os motoristas, de seu lado, estão bastante acostumados a gerenciar incertezas às próprias custas. A diferença reside na escala. A Uber quer estabilizar o mundo real, prever a demanda, gerenciar o trabalho e racionalizar a dinâmica das cidades pelo mundo. No caso os motoristas, a incerteza os atinge mais de perto. Trata-se de pagar as contas do mês e sobreviver por mais um dia. Trata-se de sentimentos de medo, desamparo, esperança, resiliência, orgulho e cansaço.

Já faz tempo que os motoristas estão cientes de como a precariedade constitui seu cotidiano, e lutam para fazer a diferença, organizando-se em associações, organizando protestos e buscando conversa e tanto com representantes do poder público, quanto levando propostas à própria Uber. Tarifas mais altas e mais segurança estão no topo de sua lista de demandas. Por enquanto, não enxergam nenhum sinal de melhores condições no horizonte do retorno à “normalidade”. Alguns argumentam que este é, na verdade, o momento certo para fazerem com que suas vozes sejam escutadas — “mas tem gente que é cega e continua trabalhando se arriscando por esmolas”, lamenta um motorista na publicação de Samuel. Enquanto a incerteza se agiganta, a urgência parece falar mais alto. Pergunto a Giacomo qual a maior necessidade dos motoristas no momento. Sem hesitação, ele me diz: “o que precisamos é de corridas. Precisamos de corridas”.

[BigDataSur-COVID] Managing uncertainty at your own expense: Brazilian Uber drivers during the Covid-19 pandemics

With Brazil becoming the hotspot for the COVID-19 pandemic, Uber drivers in the country have to choose between putting their wellbeing at risk and giving up their main source of income. But is there anything new about this? We spoke to three Uber drivers in Belo Horizonte to find out.

 

By Ana Guerra

Leia en Português

Brazil is Uber’s largest market outside the United State, counting over one million “partners”. Recently the country has also marked another record as the world’s worst COVID-19 outbreak after the United States, with 772,416 confirmed cases and over 39,000 deaths as of June 11. This article explores the impact of the pandemic on a population at the (socio-economic) margins, namely Uber drivers. It gives voice to their concerns as they roam the streets of Belo Horizonte, the 6th most populous city in Brazil.

Inside Uber’s predictive modeling 

The transnational ride-hailing platform operating in 63 national markets around the world is a known example of on-demand economy, or “gig economy”. While affording a relative amount of independence to workers, it provides no stability or safety nets. Working under a highly datafied labor regime, drivers find themselves caught up in exhaustive routines and short of labor rights, since they are not classified as employers.

How does such a model work? Uber employs a series of techniques to algorithmically manage driver’s labor in global scale, often presented as tools to predict supply and demand, stabilize uncertainties and help drivers make more profitable decisions. This is made possible by the platform’s continuous collection and processing of data about traffic patterns and the rider location and behavior. The company’s developmental and rhetorical efforts alike make apparent the ambition to manage and mitigate uncertainties. This is illustrated, for example, by the platform’s forecasting solutions aimed at predicting and managing the spatiotemporal dynamics of what is referred to as “the real world” on Uber’s blogs, as well as by its patent applications. The desire to anticipate future dynamics through data is also made evident by Uber drivers’ “algorithmic labor”, as Rosenblat and Stark call it.

Uber is a paradigmatic case of the precarization of labor through what is commonly known as “gig economy” or “sharing economy”. In a way, it is no surprise that this process is often referred to as “uberisation of work” ( “uberização do trabalho” in Portuguese). The incorporation of predictive modelling to workers’ routine reverberates what Adrian Mackenzie has identified as the generalization of prediction into everyday life, meaning the increasing presence of processes such as the algorithmic sorting of preferences and recommendations, pattern finding, demand forecasting, and other resources aimed at stabilizing future outcomes and actions.

The dangerous cocktail of datafied performances, job insecurity and poverty is particularly toxic for drivers during a pandemic, as characterized as it is by uncertainty hitting all spheres of human life.

Managing uncertainty in a pandemic

With COVID-19 taking over our thoughts and affects, the real world seems to be getting a lot more real and our relation to prediction a little more intimate. The world as we know is rapidly transforming into something else and sometimes it is hard to keep up with the numbers that tell us what happened today and what to expect for tomorrow: how many new cases? How many deaths? How many days left until things go back to “normal”? The answers change day after day. The new coronavirus twisted our experience of time and space. An invisible agent, which we may or may not be carrying around inside our cells or on our clothes, rapidly unsettled the steady references around which we organized our routines. As a wide variety of data, predictive models, projections and visual representations try to render the situation a little more intelligible, the unknown keeps finding ways to confront us from unexpected angles. Any flash of certainty is found to be short lived and no amount of projections or animated graphics are able to minimize the problem. In a way, our “dataistic” narrative that privileges datafied and prediction-oriented ideals of truth is progressively destabilized. The notion of “dataism”, as José van Dijck  explains, speaks of the belief in the “objectivity of quantification” powered by the datafication of human behavior and sociality on digital media platforms. Yes, we keep on counting— counting patients, deaths, days — but our pace has changed.

Despite the globalized sense of uncertainty, some places feel more uncertain than others. In Brazil, the COVID-19’s next hotspot, the “real world” is met with a pint of fantastic realism. Amidst underreporting, lack of testing, endless conflicts between health authorities’ and President Jair Bolsonaro positions, news about collective graves and fake news about caskets filled with rocks, Brazilians find themselves in a rather chaotic scenario. Meanwhile death rates keep rising as the poorest layer of the population is increasingly affected by the virus and the collapsing social-economic system.

Among those caught into despair are many of Brazil’s Uber drivers. Since Uber entered Brazil in 2014, the platform quickly positioned itself as a transportation solution for lower income and underserved communities, forging a quasi-infrastructure role. It goes where many taxi drivers will not go and where public transportation coverage is rather deficient—like favelas (slums in English) and urban peripheries. Besides, an Uber ride may be just as cheap as taking the bus and is typically much faster. Uber also holds a privileged and ambiguous position as an unemployment savior, since many Brazilians rely on Uber and similar platforms as their major source of income. Right now, however, drivers are forced to decelerate. Some of them report up to a 90 percent decrease in rides.

Approaching uncertain times: Uber’s response vs. driver experience

Uber’s responses to the pandemics do little to appease uncertainty. Among a pack of “resources” directed to Brazilian drivers, the platform announced an up to 14 days “financial assistance” plan to “partners” either diagnosed with COVID-19 or classified as suspicious cases or part of a at-risk group. Their eligibility must be attested by official documentation containing detailed health information. Rather than offering a fixed common value, the assistance is calculated based on the driver’s average earnings for the previous three months, being closely tied to their individual performance. The policies that inform the assistance distribution seem to be short-run, and the platform itself indicates they may be often updated. The rules described here were updated on April 17 and are said to be valid only until May 8 but the deadline was later updated to June 8, 2020. This is exasperated by a paradoxical treatment of “risk”. Once drivers request assistance, their accounts are automatically deactivated for safety reasons. However, this does not guarantee their eligibility, putting them in a dubious position: the driver poses as a risk, and therefore is prevented from working, while simultaneously not being at risk—thus, no assistance is granted.

To learn more about how Uber drivers approach this conundrum, I interviewed Giacomo Antônio, and Verón three drivers operating in Belo Horizonte, a populous city of over 2.5 million people and the capital of the state of Minas Gerais. I also analyzed over 50 comments to a YouTube community post by Samuel, an Uber driver and YouTuber who shared my questions with his followers. At the time of writing, all three interviewees are still working. As they drive, SARS-COV-2 may be riding in their back seat, a risk worsened by careless riders. Giacomo estimates that out of ten passengers he picked up, only two wore a mask. Antônio’s wife is diabetic, a risk group for COVID-19. He however chose to continue working so they could afford her the balanced diet she needs. He purchased hand sanitizers, and even though he could request Uber’s one-time 20,00 Brazilian Real (BRL, approximately EUR 3.5) refund for hygiene items, he chose not to because he considers it a “derisory help”. “It’s offensive”, he says. The three drivers share the sensation that movement has slowed down, which might mean sitting alone in the car for a couple of hours, waiting (and thus not earning). The job became a little more solitary. After his son was murdered at 19, Verón put his life on hold for over two years, “and then I met the apps”. Since then, he sees driving for Uber as a sort of therapy and an opportunity to meet new people. He notices that since pandemic started, people became less inclined to chat during rides.

Most drivers who answered to Samuel’s post seem to have quit driving for the time being. Fear and safety appear as the main reason for that: “I already had a sense of fear before COVID-19, let alone now,” one driver wrote. Working or not, drivers readily felt the financial consequences of the pandemic. About 160,000 drivers, according to car rental companies, decided to return their rented cars. Others are unsure of how they will pay the next installment for the vehicle they bought precisely to become Uber drivers. Many resort to the emergency income provided by the government, worth BRL 600/month, approximately EUR 107). While the people I spoke to had some requests accepted and a couple declined, most drivers are met with the “under evaluation” message accompanied by an ambiguous advice to “try again tomorrow”. Some have been trying again for over a month. As for Uber’s assistance, the majority of drivers do not meet the requirements and exhibit a general feeling of distrust towards the platform. “Uber does nothing for us,” argued a driver.

But is there anything really new under the sun?

Asked to describe the current moment in one word, drivers drift from “uncertainty”, “fear” and “frustration”, to “resilience” and “perseverance”. But what does this mean? Are those new feelings? Looking at how the pandemic affected Uber drivers’ experiences may be more prolific for what it renders visible than for what it gives rise to. These circumstances invite us to defamiliarize a recently reinvented, but long naturalized, state of precarity. As philosopher Judith Butler suggests, by asking about Uber drivers conditions under the pandemic, “we are also asking about the conditions of life and death that hold for the social organization of labor”.

Uncertainty is no novelty. As much as they are used to being counted—working under a highly datafied labor regime, continuously being held up against their performance metrics—Uber drivers are also used to count. Trying to estimate their daily earnings while dealing with the variable fee charged by Uber after each ride, calculating their expenses for gas and maintenance, planning to pay for car rent or installment, are all part of drivers’ routine. Drivers also spend time and energy coming up with strategies and goals to optimize their productivity. Life as an Uber driver is marked by a precarious drive towards short-term predictability, while the future remains largely obscure.

If we bring risk back into the equation, the conditions of life and death are made more evident. Butler asks “who risks their lives as they work? Who gets worked to death?”. Getting worked to death is a common metaphor for Uber drivers. As a driver I interviewed back in 2018 put it, after a car damage prevented him from working for over 20 days, “now is the time I work to wear myself out, for as long as my body can take it”. Sadly, the reference to death goes well beyond the metaphor. Fear of violence is a strong component of the shared experience of drivers in Brazil, as they find themselves vulnerable to robberies, kidnapping and murders. It is not uncommon to read news about an Uber driver’s body being found a while after he or she was reported missing.

Thus, while Uber’s business model and technological development revolves around mitigating uncertainty through data processing and predictive modelling, it turns out drivers are all too used to managing uncertainty at their own expense. The difference lies in scale. Uber wants to stabilize the real world, predict demand, manage labor and rationalized urban traffic dynamics across the globe. For drivers, uncertainty hits much closer: it is about whether they will make it through the month, or even to the next day. It is about feelings of fear, despair, hope, resilience, pride and tiredness.

Drivers are well aware of how precarity constitutes their daily routines and fight to make a difference. Better fares and more safety have been their main demands for a while. For now, they spot no signs of better conditions sparkling when things go back to “normal”. Some argue this is actually the right time for drivers to get their voices heard—if only people would stop “risking their lives for handouts”, laments a driver under Samuel’s video. Mostly, as uncertainty keeps rising, a sense of urgency seems to prevail. I ask Giacomo about the main needs of drivers during the pandemic. He promptly replies: “what we need is rides. We need rides”.

 

About the author

Ana Guerra is a Masters student at Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais, Brazil. She currently researches platform and algorithmic labor in Brazil, with an emphasis on Uber and the experiences of Uber drivers. Ana can be found on Twitter @anagvguerra.

[BigDataSur-COVID] The pandemic and the new socio-digital order in the Global South: The case of São Paulo

What happens when the digital city encounters large-scale disasters and pandemics like COVID-19? This article analyzes the case of São Paulo, Brazil, to illustrate how the pandemic contributes to emphasize a broad spectrum of inequalities. In the largest metropolis in Latin America, the population lives with a strong disparity of socioeconomic and cultural conditions, at the same time marginalized groups in the city survive amid the greatest risks of the pandemic, with precarious conditions of access and use of the Internet. As a result, an “inequality virus” emerges out of the pandemic.

Leia em Português

By Larissa G. de Magalhães

 Over the last two decades, the proliferation of digital technologies has supported an ambitious process of digitalization of complex urban ecosystems, including those of megacities like São Paulo (Brazil). But what happens when this trend clashes with large-scale disasters and pandemics like COVID-19? These moments of intense crisis represent a turning point in the governance of urban habitats, exposing the urgency of data-based responsiveness supported by advances in technology.

During crisis situations, analytical tools and data learning techniques can support decision makers with large swaths of data, for example by triggering alerts and helping governments to identify the main front lines. However, in the developing world large sectors of the population remain excluded from the digital sphere, and even government-led open data projects can lead to the under-representation of certain groups. As many of these countries become increasingly active online, it is likely that inequalities, including the digital divide, will jeopardize attempts to use data to improve the life quality of citizens. The inequality patterns of megacities, in particular, reveal that social, economic, cultural and digital inequalities are still a severe challenge in defining the best strategies to combat crises affecting the whole population.

This article looks at the case of São Paulo, Brazil—the most populous city of the Americas with its 12 million inhabitants—to explore how the opportunities for access and use of the Internet at the core of the project of the digital city follow the pattern of structural inequalities, ultimately contributing to further reinforce them. These inequalities most severely affect households and families in the most peripheral and poorest areas of the city.

Digital segregation and the city

During emergencies, decision makers can be inundated with data. According to the OECD (2019), however, data gaps caused by extant inequalities can create problems for those affected by policies created by incomplete or underrepresentative data bases. Another problem is the use of automated systems to collect data, especially from groups that may have a less reliable label than the majorities due to the “embedded” presence in the network.

As decision-making based on missing data can neglect the poverty lines drawn in the urban landscape, it may trigger higher survival costs in areas already marked by social segregation. It is during large-scale emergencies like COVID-19 that these data gaps become particularly problematic because inequalities drive the underprivileged to the highest risk level for the virus and lead to the worst socioeconomic consequences of the pandemic.

The digital geography of the country indicates a panorama of inequalities in relation to Internet use, although in the last 15 years Internet access has reached 70% of households. On the one hand, Brazil has made progress in creating laws, standards, policies and practices designed to open data, such as the creation of the National Open Data Infrastructure, the Access to Information Law, the Civil Framework of the Internet, Open Data Policy, Data Governance Policy, Digital Government Strategy and the implementation of the 4th National Plan of Partnership with the Open Government Partnership  . On the other hand, however, there remains a digital stratification in the country that coincides with inequalities in income distribution, and which is reflected in the scarce ability to be an active part in the digital economy and formal data production. The cost of broadband is another factor that affects inequalities in access, with rural areas being penalized; in addition, levels of digital literacy and accessibility of the Internet are low.

In the metropolitan region of São Paulo, which counts 12 million inhabitants, connectivity is higher than the average national , reaching 79 percent of households. Connectivity alone, however, is not enough to ensure that people can benefit from the Internet. In addition, the Internet is relevant when people have the skills and confidence to use it. In São Paulo, opportunities for access and use of the Internet appear segregated in the urban territory, following the pattern of existing structural inequalities. This suggests that in the case of São Paulo inequalities related to the digital realm are conditioned by the matrix of vulnerabilities that affect households and families in the urban territory, where the patterns observed reproduce intra-urban inequalities.

The “inequality virus”                                                         

Against this backdrop, the pandemic exacerbates existing inequalities. A closer look at inequality and Internet access shows how the outskirts of São Paulo are the epicenter for the spread of another virus alongside COVID-19, which we may call the “inequality virus”. Data from the independent research group COVID-19 Observatory indicate that in the city people of color are 62 percent more likely to die than white individuals. If we look at the map of confirmed or suspected coronavirus deaths in the districts of São Paulo, there is a clear overlap of inequalities, that is, the broader the social vulnerability matrix, the highest the lethality of the virus. The risk of death from COVID-19 is higher in the East, North and part of the Southeast regions, which is also where the districts with the highest number of COVID-19 deaths are: Brasilândia and Sapopemba, among the least developed districts of the city.

Otherwise, a large part of the South, Midwest and Southeast regions, with an higher per capita income, currently have standardized mortality rates below the municipal average. However, housing conditions are an extremely relevant factor, since central neighborhoods that concentrate tenements, pensions and homeless people have a significant number of deaths. In sum, the home address contributes to defining the impact of the coronavirus, its severity and lethality, as it is indicative of other persistent, destructive inequalities.

According to the Municipal Health Department, as of April 30, there was a 45 percent increase in deaths in the city’s 20 poorest districts. The number might also reflect the discrepant distribution of intensive care units in the city, since 60 percent of the beds in the Public Health System are concentrated in the richest and most central regions of the city.

How the new coronavirus accentuates inequalities in Brazil. Source: Uol Notícias

Towards a post COVID-19 socio-digital regime

But what does the near future bear for megacities like São Paulo ? A new approach to data-based governance, that we may call a socio-digital regime, is likely to be extended to the Souths. The pandemic showed how we are experiencing a new social order, which combines resources that facilitate physical access to information and communication technologies – Internet access infrastructure, and digital skills and abilities at the individual level. These combinations generate digital capital. Since governments do not create policies or incentives for access infrastructure or digital literacy, there is an emptying of digital capital. This deficit is driven by the structural inequalities that characterize a socio-digital regime. In particular, in the race to create surveillance platforms for epidemics and emergency forecasting systems, artificial intelligence (AI) systems “produce” political evidence projected from the aggregation of the so-called big data and other forms of government-produced information. However, marginalized groups and the digitally excluded continue to survive within the margins imposed by socio-digital regimes. The risk of reproducing and perpetuating inequalities in the highly technological environments of the future is real and should not be underestimated. Marginalized groups survive in a complex matrix of vulnerabilities, ranging from economic, social, and legal to the cultural, digital and political dimensions. The risk is that missing data or even misused data will become yet another by-product of inequality.

Several studies indicate that marginalized groups produce less data, as they are not involved in data generation activities, are not represented in the formal economy, have unequal access and less capacity to get involved online. Therefore, while more data is available to design policies and solutions, and for policy makers to include historically excluded social demands and groups, the data ends up reproducing the patterns of discrimination and exclusion present in the digital world, resulting in potentially discriminatory public policies. That is, having a lot of data does not necessarily mean that data is representative and reliable or that governments can use it.

So what can the pattern of inequality observed in megacities like Sao Paulo tell us about the future of the impending socio-digital regimes? Reducing inequalities in urban centers is a global challenge, especially in the current context in which data and technologies are coupled with potential emergency solutions resulting from developments such as climate change, technological disasters and pandemics. But inequalities in access and use of the Internet reveals the continued importance of the struggle for rights and access to quality goods, services and opportunities.

Although multiple inequalities coexist, the lights cast by digital inequalities reflect the lack of effective and efficient public policies for all. The digital world reproduces the business models of the physical economy, reinforcing existing gaps in access to benefits. It is hoped that the end of isolation will also be the end of the isolation of the poor, black and misfits in the cities. Cities are engaging in the construction of solutions for the aftermth of COVID-19, which invites  intervention in education, health, infrastructure, participation, collaboration and public transparency. Building digital capabilities and shared responsibility must be a lasting feature of governments in cities.

 

About the author

Larissa is a PhD in Political Science, Unicamp, a young researcher and consultant in public policy, governance and open data. She is Associate Researcher for Post-Doctorate, CyberBRICS Program, at the Getúlio Vargas Foundation Law School, and analyzes the infrastructure of internet access, digital policies, impacts of technologies and innovation in developing countries and the global south through the lens socio-digital inequalities.

 

 

 

 

 

[BigDataSur-COVID] A pandemia e a nova ordem sociodigital no Sul Global: O caso de São Paulo

O que acontece quando a cidade digital encontra desastres e pandemias em grande escala como o COVID-19? Este artigo analisa o caso de São Paulo, Brasil, para ilustrar como a pandemia contribui para enfatizar um amplo espectro de desigualdades. Na maior metrópole da América Latina, a população experimenta com uma forte disparidade de condições socioeconômicas e culturais, ao mesmo tempo em que grupos marginalizados sobrevivem entre os maiores riscos da pandemia, com condições precárias de acesso e uso da Internet. Como resultado, um “vírus da desigualdade” ecoa com a pandemia.

[read in English]

Por Larissa G. de Magalhães

Nas últimas duas décadas, a proliferação de tecnologias digitais apoiou um processo ambicioso de digitalização de ecossistemas urbanos complexos, incluindo as de megacidades como São Paulo (Brasil). Mas o que acontece quando essa tendência se choca com desastres e emergênccias em massa como o COVID-19? Esses momentos de intensa crise representam um ponto de virada na governança dos habitats urbanos, expondo a urgência da capacidade de resposta baseada em dados, apoiada pelos avanços da tecnologia.

Durante situações de crise, ferramentas analíticas e técnicas de aprendizado de dados podem apoiar os tomadores de decisão com grandes quantidades de dados, por exemplo, acionando alertas e ajudando os governos a identificar as principais linhas de frente. No entanto, no mundo em desenvolvimento, grandes setores da população permanecem excluídos da esfera digital, e mesmo projetos de dados abertos liderados pelo governo podem levar à sub-representação de certos grupos . À medida que muitos desses países se tornam cada vez mais ativos on-line, é provável que as desigualdades, incluindo o fosso digital, comprometam as tentativas de usar dados para melhorar a qualidade de vida dos cidadãos. Os padrões de desigualdade das megacidades, em particular, revelam que as desigualdades sociais, econômicas, culturais e digitais ainda são um desafio grave na definição das melhores estratégias para combater crises que afetam toda a população.

Este artigo analisa o caso de São Paulo, Brasil – a cidade mais populosa das Américas, com seus 12 milhões de habitantes – para explorar como as oportunidades de acesso e uso da Internet no centro do projeto da cidade digital seguem o padrão desigualdades estruturais, contribuindo, em última análise, para reforçá-las. Essas desigualdades afetam mais severamente os lares e famílias nas áreas mais periféricas e mais pobres da cidade.

Segregação digital e a cidade

Durante emergências, os tomadores de decisão podem ser inundados com dados. De acordo com a OCDE (2019), no entanto, as lacunas de dados causadas pelas desigualdades existentes podem criar problemas para aqueles afetados por políticas criadas por bancos de dados incompletos ou sub-representativos. Outro problema é o uso de sistemas automatizados para coletar dados , especialmente de grupos que podem ter um rótulo menos confiável do que as maiorias, devido à presença “incorporada” na rede.

Como a tomada de decisões com base na falta de dados pode negligenciar as linhas de pobreza traçadas na paisagem urbana, isso pode desencadear custos de sobrevivência mais altos em áreas já marcadas pela segregação social . É durante emergências de larga escala como o COVID-19 que essas lacunas de dados se tornam particularmente problemáticas porque as desigualdades levam os menos privilegiados ao mais alto nível de risco para o vírus, e levam às piores conseqüências socioeconômicas da pandemia.

A geografia digital do país indica um panorama de desigualdades em relação ao uso da Internet , embora nos últimos 15 anos o acesso à Internet tenha atingido 70% dos domicílios . Por um lado, o Brasil avançou na criação de leis, normas, políticas e práticas projetadas para abrir dados , como a criação da Infraestrutura Nacional de Dados Abertos , a Lei de Acesso à Informação , a Estrutura Civil da Internet , a Política de Dados Abertos , Política de Governança de Dados , Estratégia Digital do Governo e a implementação do 4º Plano Nacional de Parceria com a Parceria Aberta do Governo . Por outro lado, no entanto, continua a haver uma estratificação digital no país que coincide com as desigualdades na distribuição de renda e que se reflete na escassa capacidade de ser parte ativa na economia digital e na produção formal de dados. O custo da banda larga é outro fator que afeta as desigualdades de acesso, com as áreas rurais ou perifericas sendo penalizadas; Além disso, os níveis de literacia digital e acessibilidade da Internet são baixos.

Na região metropolitana de São Paulo, que conta com 12 milhões de habitantes, a conectividade é superior à média nacional, atingindo 79% dos domicílios . Porém, somente a conectividade, no entanto, não é suficiente para garantir que as pessoas possam se beneficiar da Internet. Além disso , a Internet é relevante quando as pessoas têm as habilidades e a confiança necessárias para usá-la . Em São Paulo, as oportunidades de acesso e uso da Internet aparecem segregadas no território urbano, seguindo o padrão das desigualdades estruturais existentes. Isso sugere que, no caso de São Paulo, as desigualdades relacionadas ao mundo digital são condicionadas pela matriz de vulnerabilidades que afetam famílias e domicílios no território urbano, onde os padrões observados reproduzem desigualdades intra-urbanas.

O “vírus da desigualdade”

Nesse cenário, a pandemia exacerba as desigualdades existentes. Um exame mais detalhado da desigualdade e do acesso à Internet mostra como os arredores de São Paulo são o epicentro da propagação de outro vírus ao lado do COVID-19, que podemos chamar de “vírus da desigualdade”. Dados do grupo de pesquisa independente COVID-19 Observatory indicam que na cidade, as pessoas de cor têm 62% mais chances de morrer do que os brancos. Se olharmos para o mapa de mortes confirmadas ou suspeitas de coronavírus nos distritos de São Paulo, há uma clara sobreposição de desigualdades, ou seja, quanto mais ampla a matriz de vulnerabilidade social, maior a letalidade do vírus. O risco de morte por COVID-19 é maior nas regiões Leste, Norte e parte das regiões Sudeste, onde também são os distritos com maior número de mortes por COVID-19: Brasilândia e Sapopemba, entre os distritos menos desenvolvidos da região. cidade.

Caso contrário, grande parte das regiões Sul (centro expandido), Centro-Oeste e Sudeste, com maior renda per capita, atualmente apresenta taxas de mortalidade padronizadas abaixo da média municipal . No entanto, as condições de moradia são um fator extremamente relevante, uma vez que os bairros centrais que concentram cortiços, aposentadorias e pessoas em situação de rua têm um número significativo de mortes. Em suma, o endereço residencial contribui para definir o impacto do coronavírus, sua gravidade e letalidade, pois é indicativo de outras desigualdades persistentes e destrutivas.

Segundo a Secretaria Municipal de Saúde, em 30 de abril, houve um aumento de 45% nas mortes nos 20 distritos mais pobres da cidade . O número também pode refletir a distribuição discrepante de unidades de terapia intensiva na cidade, uma vez que 60% dos leitos do Sistema Público de Saúde estão concentrados nas regiões mais ricas e centrais da cidade.

How the new coronavirus accentuates inequalities in Brazil. Source: Uol Notícias

Rumo a um regime sociogital pós COVID-19

O que mais o futuro próximo traz para megacidades como São Paulo ? Uma nova abordagem à governança baseada em dados, que podemos chamar de regime sociodigital , provavelmente será estendida aos países do sul. A pandemia mostrou como estamos vivendo uma nova ordem social, que combina recursos que facilitam o acesso físico às tecnologias da informação e comunicação – infraestrutura de acesso à Internet e habilidades e habilidades digitais no nível individual. Essas combinações geram capital digital . Como os governos não criam políticas ou incentivos para a infraestrutura de acesso ou a alfabetização digital, há um esvaziamento do capital digital. Esse déficit é impulsionado pelas desigualdades estruturais que caracterizam um regime sociodigital. Em particular, na corrida para criar plataformas de vigilância para epidemias e sistemas de previsão de emergência, os sistemas de inteligência artificial (IA) “produzem” evidências políticas projetadas a partir da agregação dos chamados big data e outras formas de informações produzidas pelo governo . No entanto, os grupos marginalizados e os excluídos digitalmente continuam a sobreviver dentro das margens impostas pelos regimes sócio-digitais. O risco de reproduzir e perpetuar desigualdades nos ambientes altamente tecnológicos do futuro é real e não deve ser subestimado. Grupos marginalizados sobrevivem em uma complexa matriz de vulnerabilidades, variando das dimensões econômica, social e jurídica às dimensões cultural, digital e política. O risco é que dados ausentes ou mesmo dados mal utilizados se tornem mais um subproduto da desigualdade.

Vários estudos indicam que grupos marginalizados produzem menos dados , pois não estão envolvidos em atividades de geração de dados, não estão representados na economia formal, têm acesso desigual e menor capacidade de se envolver on-line. Portanto, enquanto mais dados estão disponíveis para projetar políticas e soluções, e para que os formuladores de políticas incluam demandas e grupos sociais historicamente excluídos, os dados acabam reproduzindo os padrões de discriminação e exclusão presentes no mundo digital, resultando em políticas públicas potencialmente discriminatórias. Ou seja, ter muitos dados não significa necessariamente que os dados sejam representativos e confiáveis ​​ou que os governos possam usá-los.

Então, o que o padrão de desigualdade observado em megacidades como São Paulo nos diz sobre o futuro dos regimes sociodigitais iminentes? Reduzir as desigualdades nos centros urbanos é um desafio global, especialmente no contexto atual em que dados e tecnologias são combinados com possíveis soluções de emergência resultantes de desenvolvimentos como mudanças climáticas, desastres tecnológicos e pandemias. Mas as desigualdades no acesso e uso da Internet revelam a importância contínua da luta por direitos e acesso a bens, serviços e oportunidades de qualidade.

Embora coexistam múltiplas desigualdades, as luzes lançadas pelas desigualdades digitais refletem a falta de políticas públicas efetivas e eficientes para todos. O mundo digital reproduz os modelos de negócios da economia física, reforçando as lacunas existentes no acesso aos benefícios. Espera-se que o fim do isolamento também seja o fim do isolamento dos pobres, negros e desajustados nas cidades. As cidades estão engajadas na construção de soluções para o rescaldo do COVID-19, que convida a intervenções em educação, saúde, infraestrutura, participação, colaboração e transparência pública. A construção de capacidades digitais e responsabilidade compartilhada deve ser uma característica duradoura dos governos nas cidades.

Sobre o autor

Larissa é PhD em Ciência Política pela Unicamp, jovem pesquisadora e consultora em políticas públicas, governança e dados abertos. Ela é pesquisadora de pós-doutorado associada ao programa CyberBRICS da Faculdade de Direito da Fundação Getúlio Vargas, e analisa a infraestrutura de acesso à Internet, políticas digitais, impactos de tecnologias e inovação nos países em desenvolvimento e no sul global.

[BigDataSur-COVID] Four invisible enemies in the first pandemic of a “datafied society”

COVID-19 lays bare the nuances of a society undergoing digital data transformation in nearly every field of human activity, from its most beneficial to its most disturbing aspects

By Philip Di Salvo and Stefania Milan

This post was first published on Open Democracy on June 8, 2020.

[read in Italian]

COVID-19 is the first global pandemic to emerge on such a wide scale and to such grave effect in an advanced phase of so-called “datafied society”. We find ourselves at a turning point in our understanding of what it means to live in an era dominated by digital data transformation in nearly every field of human activity. A situation as extreme as the one we are experiencing in these weeks of variably strict lockdown, inevitably exposes the nuances of this phenomenon, from its most beneficial to its most potentially disturbing aspects.

To find a comparable moment – such an all-encompassing stress-test of the cultural assumptions and foundations of society as a whole – one has to go back to the 9/11 attacks. But 2001 and 2020 have little in common in terms of technological ecosystems and digital infrastructure; consequently the social and political impacts are equally dissimilar.

At the core of a datafied society is the production of data and their use to create added value, from traffic management to the improvement of the state output, from targeted advertising on digital platforms to the contact tracing apps designed to fight COVID-19. Even in normal circumstances, we generate most of this data ourselves, through our smartphones, our interactions on social media, online banking and shopping. The large-scale monetisation of data regarding our preferences and behaviour strengthens the monopoly of corporations like Google and Amazon, their analyses and predictions.

However, as citizens we also produce data by accessing the health system or simply strolling through our cities, which by now host a myriad of CCTV cameras and facial recognition systems. Much of this data ends up in private hands, even if and when data appear to be under the control of state institutions: public offices’ servers are managed by private companies like Accenture, IBM or Microsoft.

This mix of geographically varied data, different infrastructures, and private and public entities is a potentially explosive cocktail, primarily because of the limited transparency vis-à-vis users and the risks to individual and collective privacy. Datafied society is in fact, the cradle of what the US economist Shoshana Zuboff calls, ‘surveillance capitalism’whose motor is the commodification of personal information at the expense of reducing our capacity to act independently and have freedom of choice. In other words, our very existence as citizens is changing, and not necessarily for the better.

There are at least four areas in which the COVID-19 pandemic is functioning as an accelerator of potentially dangerous dynamics which until now have been barely visible. This article focuses in on the case of Italy, which has been particularly affected by these dynamics, partially thanks to poor digital literacy among its citizens. Similar dynamics, however, are at play in most countries heavily affected by the pandemic, including low-income states, we argue.

Beyond any form of technological or epidemiological cause and effect, four distinct tendencies have emerged. They are “unquestioning positivism”, “information disorder”, “digital vigilantism” and the “normalisation of surveillance”. These four enemies are rendered artificially invisible by the human drama of the pandemic, but they cause almost as much collective harm as the virus itself. And to say the least, they are destined to have long term consequences. Let’s go through these one by one.

Unquestioning positivism

The first invisible enemy is associated with a commonly used verb, “to count”; an action that in these times is correctly presented as a useful ally. “Let the numbers speak” is often heard. Counting, and even more so, counting ourselves, is for every society a key mode of reflection. It suffices to think of the crucial role of censuses in the definition of the nation-state. Moreover, counting is central to the management of the pandemic, with the centrality of numbers to its spread and the fight against it. Typically, there is a tendency to believe statistics more than words, as we associate them with a higher order of truth, a phenomenon termed ‘dataism’ by the researcher José van Dijck.

Faith in numbers has historic roots, dating back to the days of nineteenth century positivism, which promoted belief in science and in scientific and technological progress. In the philosopher August Comte’s, A General view of Positivism(1844), he explained that positivism brings “the real as opposed to the chimerical” to the forefront. Striving to “contrast the precise with the vague”, he presented scientific fact as the “opposite of the negative”, rather projecting a positive attitude of confidence in the future. Certainly, bringing concrete facts to the centre of the narrative of the virus and the search for solutions could be a good thing after the recent bleak period for science, which has seen the emergence of anti-vaccination movements. Unfortunately, however, faith in numbers is often misplaced, as has been made clear in recent weeks: official data tend to illustrate a limited and often misleading portion of the pandemic’s reality.

Nevertheless, numbers and data are at the core of the virus narrative. However, it is a narrative that is not very accurate, often decontextualized, and all the more angst-inducing for it. The result is an unquestioning positivism that tends to ignore context and does not explain why or how it should be dealt with. Decisions which involve entire countries are taken and justified on the basis of figures based on data that is not necessarily accurate.

The pandemic’s information disorder

The international context of the pandemic has been classed as an ‘infodemic’, an expression applied above all by the WHO to circumstances where there is an overabundance of information – accurate or not – that makes it very difficult for people to distinguish reliable sources from unreliable ones. The pandemic is particularly conducive to the diffusion of ‘information disorder’, in various forms of disinformation and misinformation.

The Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism (RISJ) at the University of Oxford has published one of the first studies on the information disorder’s characteristics in this pandemic. It concentrated on a sample of English language news evaluated by fact-checking initiatives like First Draft. The research revealed that sources of disinformation on the pandemic can be ‘top-down’ (when they are promoted by politicians or by other public personalities) as well as ‘bottom-up’ when they derive from normal users.

Although the first type represents only 20 percent of the sample analysed by the RISJ, it is also revealed that top-down disinformation tends to generate more of a social media buzz compared to that which emerges from below. The RISJ further asserts that the largest portion of misinformation that has emerged in these weeks is comprised of ‘reconfigured’ content, modified only in parts. Only a minority (around 38 percent) consisted of completely invented content. Thomas Rid, one of the world’s leading experts on misinformation campaigns in the area of national security (the subject of his eagerly anticipated book, Active Measures), has argued in the New York Times that the pandemic could provide a particularly fertile terrain for ‘information warfare’, with the objective of creating confusion and tensions in the public opinion of the countries involved, similar to those seen in the USA during the 2016 Presidential election campaigns. Misinformation of a racist bent with xenophobic motives, cannot be forgotten, such as the false newscirculated in various places claiming that Africans were immune to the virus. In Italy, television and mainstream media have been especially important channels for diffusing unverified information and conspiratorial takes on COVID-19. For instance, false claims about the virus being artificially created in a Chinese laboratory have been frequently reportedon screen and by newspapers, contributing to the circulation of misleading information about the pandemic.

Digital vigilantism

Since the early days of the pandemic, people out running in various countries have reportedly been harassed, and in some cases physically assaulted by other citizens irritated by the potential risk to public health posed by those outside. People on their way to work have reported being subject to various types of abuse for not “staying at home”. A sizable number of videos has been uploaded to social media with the aim of denouncing people supposedly out and about with no regard for the lockdown. Criminology research has categorised this phenomenon as “vigilantism”.

Vigilantism occurs when private citizens voluntarily take up roles that are not their responsibility, such as controlling the behaviour of others and complaining about their supposed misdeeds. Through their actions in defence of social norms, vigilantes try to offer a sense of security to themselves and others. The advent of social media and mobile technology has enabled the diffusion of digital vigilantism which has the objective of attacking and shaming those who infringe the rules by exposing them to public scorn. This type of punishment often has a lasting and invasive impact on the privacy of the accused, as well as inciting aggression and a desire for revenge.

This phenomenon is typical of historical moments in which the constituted order is at risk or perceived as such, so the appearance and diffusion of vigilantism in the Coronavirus emergency seems inevitable. The digital vigilantism of Covid-19 is however, particularly dangerous. First and foremost, this need to hate whoever leave the house is exclusionary and contributes to creating social stigma. It targets individuals on the basis of exclusively observable criteria which are insufficient to distinguish between those who are breaking the rules and those who have legitimate reason to do so (for example, those who are on their way to or from work). This creation of “public enemies” leads to psychological damage, from feelings of alienation to a desire for reprisals, which could last well beyond the duration of the Corona crisis. It can justify similarly transgressive behaviour, based on the logic that “if everybody else is doing it, I can do it too”. Secondly, digital vigilantism contributes to dividing the community, with serious and enduring consequences in terms of societal division between supposed good and bad guys, between the deserving and the undeserving. It undermines the message of a strongly united community, capable of confronting the emergency in a rational way, precisely in the moment it is most vital to accept that individual sacrifices are crucial for the collective effort.

Privacy and the normalisation of surveillance

The pandemic has also reignited the debate on the role of privacy in a datafied society. Taking inspiration from the examples – or presumed models – provided by a few more or less democratic countries like China, Singapore and South Korea, governments are requesting that various kinds of technological solutions entailing surveillance and digital monitoring of citizens be undertaken, in order to slow the diffusion of the virus. In Europe, several governments have started work on technical solutions. In general, the debate has been oriented towards the development of “contact tracing” mobile apps which could make use of various smartphone functions as a basis for tracking the spread of the virus. These will monitor the social contacts of infected persons or those potentially exposed to sites of contagion.

A common feature of these solutions are their complex and dangerous repercussions in terms of rights, privacy and security – issues far too easily pushed to one side if technology is viewed in an excessively deterministic or outcome-focused way, or via the unquestioning positivism outlined above. While France was the first country to officially ask Google and Amazon to loosen privacy policies to facilitate the development of a contact-tracing app, in Italy, a governmental taskforce selected the app “Immuni”, which takes a decentralized approach based on Bluetooth. The “Immuni” setup is far less invasive and more privacy-respecting than other apps; and its adoption will not be compulsory. However, there are many doubts with regards to the effectiveness of contact tracing apps. First of all, it has been calculated that in order to function in a meaningful way, “Immuni” would have to be downloaded by at least 60 percent of the Italian population, a penetration rate that even popular apps such as Facebook or WhatsApp struggle to achieve. Thus, an overly deterministic outlook on the capacity of these technical solutions can lead us to overestimate their effectiveness.

Various social science and journalistic studies on surveillance show that is becoming normalized as a frequent subject of public debate. Something similar has been observed across Europe during the pandemic: expert concerns (technical or legal ones) are often prematurely dismissed in public debate as problems of lesser importance, with the promotion of a false dichotomy between privacy and the defence of public health, as if the former is an insurmountable challenge to the latter. In reality, as Yuval Noah Hariri in the Financial Times has written, posing the two criteria as antithetical is incorrect, since citizens should not have to choose between two incompatible fundamental rights. The question to be asked is how many and which rights are we willing to forego – even if only in part – and for which objectives? Too often the debate around privacy tends to become undermined in a dishonest fashion, by comparing the more frivolous behaviours of users with a policy of state monitoring of public health. Privacy is not dead, and although it is in part eroded by problematic commercial exploitation of data, this debate cannot be reduced to considering privacy as an individual right left only to citizens’ decision-making. Privacy always functions in a collective dimension.

The other open question is what to do upon the eventual return to normality. When the emergency is over, should citizens be guaranteed that the technologies of “contact tracing” and infrastructure of control developed for the period of crisis are effectively dismantled (and their data cancelled)? On this point, the European Commission has taken a clear stance, publishing several recommendations and a toolbox and arguing for a pan-European approach in defence of privacy and data protection, as well as the use of shared and de-centralised techniques and standards.

The big issue in many cases, including the Italian one, is the absence of a parliamentary debate on topics as delicate as this one. At the time of writing, the Netherlands is hosting a parliamentary debate which is of paramount importance to ensure that democratic control, accountability and the respect of norms and basic democratic values are central in the making of these decisions.

The antibodies

How can these four invisible enemies be combatted? Unfortunately, the solution is neither simple not immediate. A vaccine capable of magically immunising the citizenry against unquestioning positivism, information disorder, digital vigilantism and the normalisation of surveillance, does not exist (nor will it ever exist).

We can however work on some antibodies and spread them as widely as possible in our communities. Datafied society needs critical and informed users that know how to use and contextualise digital and statistical instruments, that can understand the inevitably associated risks but at the same time take advantage of its benefits. And that can also help the less technologically competent parts of the population navigate their digital worlds.

Data literacy is central to this process. This kind of literacy needs to take into consideration the question of citizenship in the era of Big Data and Artificial Intelligence. It has to develop the citizens’ capacity to make informed choices regarding the limits of individual and collective online activities, including the complex considerations related to the protection of personal data. It has to help us to distinguish between sources of information and to disentangle the personalised content algorithms that invalidate our capacity to freely make use of the internet. The challenge is open but particularly urgent, considering that Italy is a straggler in terms of digital literacy at the lower end of the of the 34 OEDC countries (Organization for Economic Co-Operation and Development) rankings. Recent ODEC research revealed that only 36 percent of Italians are able to “make a complex and diversified use of the internet”, which creates a fertile terrain for the four enemies that we have identified above.

The world of education has certainly a critical role to play, combining a revitalized citizen education about the internet with neglected civic education. This requires a serious teacher training programme, along with sufficient public funding.

This is however a medium to long-term project, that would be difficult to carry out during the emergency. But the “Post-Coronavirus” world is being built right now, in the whirlwind of the pandemic. The choices undertaken today will have an inevitable impact on the future outcomes of datafied societies. More than ever, an inclusive, transparent and honest approach is needed to guide these choices, in order to avoid finding ourselves in a future dominated by obscure, discriminatory and potentially anti-democratic technological “black boxes”.

An early version of this article appeared in Italian on “COVID-19 from the margins” and the daily Il Manifesto on April 24, 2020.

 

About the authors

Philip Di Salvo si a post-doctoral researcher and lecturer at Università della Svizzera italiana in Lugano, Switzerland. His research interestes include investigative reporting, whistleblowing, surveillance and the relationships between journalism and hacking. His forthcoming book “Digital Whistleblowing Platforms in Journalism. Encrypting Leaks” will be published by Palgrave Macmillan in summer 2020.

Stefania Milan is Associate Professor of New Media and Digital Culture at the University of Amsterdam. She is one of the editors of “COVID-19 from the margins”.

[BigDataSur-COVID] Fighting for Feminist COVID-19 Figures: A Call for Feminist Data Visualizations During the Pandemic

by Erinne Paisley

During the COVID-19 global pandemic, we have all had to make signification adjustments to our daily lives. One of these is reading more news. This news contains an endless stream of data and it has been up to government bodies, health organizations, and journalists to sort through this data and create visuals for us to understand it.

These visualizations are critical for us to sort through the constant noise of data that the pandemic has created. COVID-19 has created a trend of data visualizing. However, like any other form of data visualizations, COVID-19 images such as “flatten the curve” are not completely objective. Data visualizations make visible certain perspectives and experiences, empowering and disempowering certain demographics. In the case of womxn, especially womxn of colour, historically these experiences have not been included. “Womxn” is used as an alternative to the English word “women” to include non-cisgender women.

A 2016 analysis of the Ebola and Zika global health emergencies explains: ‘The combination of pre-existing biological and socio-cultural factors means that while the health status of populations as a whole deteriorates during complex humanitarian crisis, women and children are especially vulnerable.’

D’Ignazio and Klein offer the term “feminist data visualizations” to describe those data visualizations that make visible women’s perspectives and experiences – and empower through this. Feminist data visualization is still not the mainstream way of sorting and presenting data. When it comes to data handling surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic, in March 2020 Wenham et al. explained that they:“are not aware of any gender analysis of the outbreak by global health institutions or governments in affected countries or in preparedness phases”.

As of early April 2020, many non-profits such as Plan International as well as academic think tanks like the Centre for Feminist Foreign Policy have begun to offer support for womxn’s rights during the COVID-19 pandemic. Journalists, such as Helen Lewis of The Atlantic with her popular article “The Coronavirus Is a Disaster for Feminism”, have also highlighted the experience of womxn. However, the lack of feminist data visualizations is evident.

To encourage and explore the importance of feminist data visualizations amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, I will look to two examples of female perspectives and experiences during this time, exploring specifically the pandemic’s impact on increased rates of domestic violence and decreased rates of global female education. I will also zoom in on examples of past feminist data visualizations of these two topics that could be used as jumping off points for health institutions and governments to conduct similar work during COVID-19.

Increased Rates of Domestic Violence

Domestic violence, also referred to as “intimate partner violence (IPV)”, is a “pattern of behaviors used by one partner to maintain power and control over another partner in an intimate relationship”. Domestic violence is the most prevalent type of violence against womxn and, because of this, has been categorized by many scholars as a “global pandemic” of its own. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), 1 in 3 women around the world have experienced physical or sexual intimate partner violence.

This global public health problem has historically been unaddressed. This is because the “home” was regarded as “private” until the second wave of the feminist movement in the 1960s and ‘70s. During this feminist wave, slogans like “the personal is political”, created by Carol Hanisch, encouraged accountability for womxn’s rights both in the public and private realm. This included addressing issues such as the allocation of duties within the household, domestic violence, as well as other social and legal rights within womxn’s “private” lives.

An image of the nuclear family from The Atlantic March 2020 feminist article (https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2020/03/feminism-womens-rights-coronavirus-covid19/608302/)

During widespread public emergencies in the past, there has been a clear association between these events and rising rates of domestic abuse. For instance, after the New Zealand “Canterbury” earthquake in 2010, there was recorded 53% rise in domestic violence. Following Hurricane Katrina in the United States, there was also a near doubling in domestic violence rates in the affected areas.

Existing Feminist Data Visualization’s of Domestic Violence

In 2009, researchers at Harvard University created a computer model that automatically detects at-risk patients for domestic abuse. This program sorts through huge amounts of medical data from U.S. hospital emergency visits and creates data visualizations referred to as “risk gel” visuals for physicians to view. The bars are the patient’s medical history, specifically visits to a medical practitioner, colour coded based on the historical association of these injuries to domestic abuse.

A “risk gel” visual analysis for “Patient B”’s domestic violence risk. Source: https://www.wired.com/2009/09/domestic-abuse-prediction/

This visualization of data allows for further prevention and attention to cases of domestic abuse by physicians. It is a form of feminist data visualization as it challenges the binary of one single visit to a doctor being marked as evidence of domestic abuse or not and instead tracks multiple visits on a scale of injury to create more narrative evidence of this abuse. This example of feminist data visualization may not be something that can be used directly to identify those at-risk of increased domestic violence cases during COVID-19 quarantining, but it serves as a strong example of how feminist data visualizations can reveal hidden narratives within existing data and support womxn’s rights.

At-Home Education Effect on Womxn

Most data visualizations of the COVID-19 pandemic mark the end of its effects as the eradication of the virus itself. Although this will be a significant turning point in the pandemic’s trajectory, from a feminist perspective this is in no way where the effects of the virus end – instead, where they begin.

As of April 2020, over 91 percent  of the worlds student population has had to stay home from school (UNESCO 2020). Following historical trends, the role of educating children in the home will fall on a majority womxn. Traditionally, womxn are still those who worldwide take the societal principle responsibility for children. This increased responsibility in the home may lead to detrimental effects for womxn’s own careers once pandemic-related quarantine has ended as male counterparts will have advanced further during the quarantine period due to less homeschool responsibilities.

Female children around the world face additional barriers to their educational, and eventually professional, progressions. Feminist data studies on the 2014 Ebola epidemic found that womxn still often have less decision-making power than men which results in less female students returning to school once the institutions are re-opened. Global studies have also shown that the longer a child is out of school the more likely they are to not return.

One of the main reasons for girl’s not returning to school is the increased rate of unwanted and transactional sex. A study by the United Nations Development Programme on the Ebola epidemic showed that teenage pregnancies in some communities of Sierra Leone went up by 65 percent because of school closures and increased sexual assault at home.

Feminist Data Visualization: Female Education Rates

In 2018, a number of American researchers experimented with data visualization as part of the annual February celebration of Black History. This challenge to “#VisualizeDiversity” resulted in a feminist data visualization submitted to the project by a researcher named “Sharon”, in 2018. The visualization took the data from the United States’ Department of Education fourth grade basic reading skills and re-organized the data.

Data visualization created by “Sharon” as part of the 2018 #VisualizeDiversity challenge. Source: http://www.storytellingwithdata.com/blog/2018/2/9/education-visualized

The presentation of the data above shows a hidden narrative, that most minorities in America struggle to read at grade level and, more broadly, that there are systemic barriers that prevent these minorities from excelling in this way. This data visualization shows the potential of feminist data visualizations to reveal a narrative that the initial sorting of data may not have focused on. By re-sorting the data to focus on minority status, the data now goes beyond the categories of “literate” and “illiterate” and begins to show the multiplicity of reasons for these literacy levels. As well, the data visualization now acknowledges the historical exclusion of these marginalized groups in traditional hierarchical power structures.

Conclusions  

The COVID-19 global pandemic has led to a larger consumption of data visualizations. It is clear that data visualizations are needed not just for an understanding of the crisis at hand, but as instructions for what actions are the most crucial to take. The most viral data visualizations attached to the pandemic to date have focused on the spread of the virus itself – including images such as the “Flatten the Curve” and its accompanying #stayhome social media campaign. We must continue to question the objectivity of these viral data visualizations asking questions such as: When the curve ends – is this really the end of the pandemic’s impact? Is #stayhome really helping everyone stay safe?

So far, viral COVID-19 pandemic data visualizations have focused on a narrow perspective and largely exclude the experience and risks for womxn around the world. However, this also creates an opportunity for feminist data visualizations to rise in popularity. The world is watching for data visualizations, asking how to help, and supporting one another. It’s time to include womxn in this.

 

If you, or a womxn you know, are in need of immediate support during the COVID-19 pandemic, please consult the list of resources across Europe on the Women Lobby website.

 

About the author

Erinne Paisley is a current Research Media Masters student at the University of Amsterdam and completed her BA at the University of Toronto in Peace, Conflict and Justice & Book and Media Studies. She is the author of three books on social media activism for youth with Orca Book Publishing.