Who’s Afraid of the Metaverse?
An Oculus Rift, photographed in the office of David Chalmers for Disegno #32 (image: Dean Kaufman).
Are virtual worlds and the objects within them real? How can digital designers build in digital space? And who should control the metaverse? These were some of the questions considered at ‘Who’s Afraid of the Metaverse’, a roundtable discussion celebrating the launch of Disegno #32.
Hosted at the Brompton showroom of Italian design brand Molteni&C, the event brought together the experiential designer Florian Dussopt, V&A curator of digital design Natalie Kane, and critical designer and filmmaker Keiichi Matsuda to explore the potential and the perils of the metaverse, or virtual worlds.
The panel was prompted by an article in Disegno #32 that presents an encounter between architects Space Popular and the philosopher David J. Chalmers. A specialist in cognitive science and the philosophy of the mind, Chalmers has recently turned to questions surrounding digital technology. His new book Reality+: Virtual Worlds and the Problems of Philosophy focuses on our technological future and how it interacts with the key arguments of philosophy.
Chalmers argues that we should think of virtual realities, spaces and objects as genuine realities — different to physical forms, but no less real. This has significant ramifications for design. “Once you start treating something as real, once you award it that elevated ontological status, it somehow matters more,” noted Disegno’s editor Oli Stratford at the event. “It starts to really matter how you design these platforms, what behaviours they enable, what affordances they have, and how they interact with the physical world.”
“One misconception I see is that people think the metaverse exists, that it’s real. Currently you can either say that it doesn’t exist at all, or that has existed for quite a long time in virtual worlds and other things like that.”
The question of how “real” the metaverse is has been around since the term’s inception. It was coined by the American writer Neal Stephenson in his 1992 novel Snow Crash, where it describes an enormous virtual street on which people can buy and develop land. The term has since been used to describe all sorts of virtual spaces, including augmented reality experiences, open-world video games and Second Life, a cross between a world-building game and a chat room. It is most often used, however, to describe a sort of Matrix-like absolute virtual world, where people can interact with the level of complexity they do in reality.
Recently, the metaverse has become a prominent subject in mainstream publications. There are at least two reasons for this. First is the recent investment in the concept by a handful of tech companies. One of the biggest of all, Facebook, rebranded itself as Meta last October, instantly prompting a shoal of thinkpieces speculating on its motivations. “This has somewhat directed a move towards thinking about the concept of the metaverse,” explained Kane, “particularly Facebook’s version of the metaverse.”
The second is a side-effect of the Covid-19 pandemic — “the fact,” Kane continued, “that we’ve had to think about other ways to talk and extend the ways that we come to be with one another.” The pandemic radically transformed the way people communicate for leisure, education and work. Almost overnight, Zoom went from a minority interest to one of the world’s most ubiquitous apps. For developers eager to score the next such success, the metaverse is an appealing hunting ground.
“It’s scary, but everything has been digital for a while — sending emails, listening to music. Nobody’s worried about that anymore. But they used to be.”
Despite all this present interest, the technology remains limited. In December the Financial Times ran an interview with failed politician turned Facebook executive Nick Clegg, which purported to take place within Meta’s metaverse. Entered by bulky virtual reality headset, it resembled a bland corporate boardroom, with Clegg and his interviewer rendered as Nintendo mii-like avatars, except without legs. The most famous would-be metaverse, it would seem, is barely in the larval stage. “One misconception I see,” said Matsuda, “is that people think the metaverse exists, that it’s real. Currently you can either say that it doesn’t exist at all, or that has existed for quite a long time in virtual worlds and other things like that.”
So, should we be scared? Today’s fears might stem from inexperience. “It's scary,” added Dussopt, “but everything has been digital for a while — sending emails, listening to music. Nobody's worried about that anymore. But they used to be.” The nature of a metaverse will result from whomever develops it. They could allow the likes of Meta to create what Matsuda calls “the most complete surveillance systems ever conceived”, even more invasive than big tech today.
Yet there is also the potential, however idealistic, to provide new spaces for communal interaction, virtual town squares where, as Kane explained, “everyone gets a chance to experience placement and community.” For Dussopt, whose practice spans physical and digital design, virtual reality is “a tool.” Like any tool, its effect will depend on those who use it.
The idea of a metaverse as separate from the material realm may be a red herring. We are already at a point where the digital and physical interact all the time, often without realising it. Whenever we pay with a card, listen to music or check directions on an app, we straddle the virtual realm. “Almost all our experiences,” said Matsuda “are mediated through digital form.” Perhaps the future holds not a Matrix-like virtual world, but the ever-closer union of virtual and physical. At that point, who will be able to define what is and isn’t real?
‘Who’s Afraid of the Metaverse’ took place at Molteni&C’s Brompton showroom on 7 April 2022.
Words Joe Lloyd