From Haley Morris-Cafiero's Wait Watchers project
From Haley Morris-Cafiero’s Wait Watchers project

Last week, Hailey Morris-Cafiero, a photographer and college professor, wrote an article for Salon.com about an ongoing project, five years in the making.  Morris-Cafiero’s project is to document those who mock her because of her body size. She selects a public venue, sets up a camera in full view, and has her assistant snap photos as Morris-Cafiero engages in the world under the derisional gaze of fatphobic publics. One image shows a teenage girl slapping her own belly while intently staring at Morris-Cafiero eating gelato on a sidewalk in Barcelona; another shows two police officers laughing, as one stands behind her holding his hat above her head; a third shows her sitting on bleachers in Times Square, a man a few rows back openly laughing at her as his picture is taken.  The project is called “Wait Watchers.”

What Morris-Cafiero does here is interesting artistically, but more than that, it is incredibly brave on a human and sociological level. She recognizes the disciplinary Foucaultian gaze and not only refuses to be contained by it, but openly defies its logic, staring back and imploding the seeing-being-seen dyad. Her images speak, angrily, and say “I know you are watching me, but your stares are powerless. In fact, I am watching you, punishing you. I see you. And you are rude. You are judgmental. You are weak. You are trapped by an arbitrary standard of ‘normal’ which you had no part in creating, no hope of living up to.”

The Salon article went viral on my Facebook News Feed (both on my personal page and the researcher page I maintain). Posters and commenters applauded the author, decried narrow images of beauty, and shouted “Right on Sister!!” in their loudest and proudest keyboard strokes. And I was right there with them. Sharing, Liking, posting related links while slapping proverbial high-fives with this crew of progressive body-freedom fighters.  And yet, these cheers of support sat uncomfortably within my Feed. Not because they were problematic in their own right, but because of what they sat alongside. Namely, what I call mockdates.

Teenage girl slaps belly while watching Morris-Cafiero eat gelato in Barcelona
Teenage girl slaps belly while watching Morris-Cafiero eat gelato in Barcelona

Although each status update may be unique, there are clear “types” of status updates. Food pictures, relationship gushings, job complaints, conversation quotes etc. And then there is what I like to call mockdates. The mockdate is a type of status update that uses humor to publicly condemn all forms of “improper” bodies. Large bodies.  Low SES bodies. Uneducated bodies. Poorly dressed bodies. Inarticulate bodies. Unattractive bodies. Odorous bodies. Bodies with poor taste. These are the personalized versions of those terrible People of Walmart memes.  They come in the form of covertly snapped pictures, overheard conversations, and descriptions so detailed I’m certain the author penned them as a creative writing exercise. The object is unaware of hir inclusion in the mockdate.

The same News Feed then, which heralds Morris-Cafiero’s brave work, and indeed, many of the same people who Share Morris-Cafiero’s art, simultaneously enact the harsh disciplinary gaze that the artist works to subvert.

Ironically, this mocker's fashion choice to sport pajama pants in public may make her the object of someone else's mockdate
Ironically, this mocker’s fashion choice may make her the object of a mockdate

It is not hard to see what mockdates provide, social-psychologically, for those who post, comment, and laugh at this type of content. It is a protective measure in a harsh environment. It defines who “we” are, and who “we” are not. It garners high yields, for a cheap fare, in a crowded attention economy. It does exactly the kinds of things that bullying, gossiping, and general snarkiness do for a person. And it doesn’t feel *too* mean, because the object of public derision isn’t anyone the mockdater knows, and doesn’t seem like anyone with whom s/he might be friends. The object is abstract, remote, anonymous. S/he plays a role, becomes a prop with which the mockdater performs hir moral identity. “I am not that.” The mockdater proclaims. “I know the social rules.” “I have discerning tastes.” “I am witty.” “I am funny.” And simultaneously, the mockdater, like the bully, begs “don’t judge me.” “Include me.” “Please let me matter.”

Mockdates are a survival technique in a surveillance culture, an historical space of documentation and sharing, where identities are always on display, their value quantifiable, and judgments upon them always still out. Mocking subjects laugh defensively, publicly, lest they become mocked objects. And yet, this micro-strategy of survival—its malice cloaked by humor, widespread participation with implicit endorsement, and abstracted targets—perpetuates the very system which creates the need for such a strategy.

Whitney Erin Boesel (@phenatypical) recently reminded us that the way we use technologies shapes the roles that these technologies play. If one hopes to subvert the surveillance system (or in this case, the coveillance system), s/he would do well to strike mockdates from hir repertoire, and abstain from Liking, commenting on, or publicly laughing at this type of status update from others. If you can’t think of anything smart to say, stick with pictures of your dinner. As a rule, it’s better to be mundane than a jerk. And let’s be honest, we all appreciate a little foodporn now and then.

Jenny Davis is a Sociologist and a weekly contributor for Cyborgology.  Follow Jenny on Twitter @Jup83

All images used with permission from Haley Morris-Cafiero: http://haleymorriscafiero.com/