Foam Party

Everyday language is overloaded with conceptual metaphors that either celebrate the whole or lament its absence: broken heart, phantom pain, paradise lost, etcetera. The fact that these sentiments are so deeply ingrained into our means of communication also explains why it is so difficult to let universality go. This is already true de facto, let alone de jure. Even if we are willing to submit ourselves to the existential fact of living without absolute truth, it is still probable that we conceive its absence as a loss. Reframing fragmentation as something positive is next to impossible.

That is why it is admirable that Peter Sloterdijk takes on this challenge against all odds. In the third volume of his Spheres trilogy titled Foams (1998), he introduces the titular concept as an antipode to those conceptual metaphors that signify wholeness, unity, and completeness. Foam is a phenomenon that celebrates multiplicity. As a concept, it defies all notions of universality without even referring to it negatively.

The foam metaphor has the merit of capturing the topological allocation of creative and self-securing creations of living space in an image. It not only reminds us of the tight proximity between fragile units, but also of the necessary self-enclosure of each foam cell, even though they can only exist as users of shared separation installations

— Peter Sloterdijk

The desire to reverse the effects of separation repeats trauma and causes paralysis. The will to celebrate multiplicity leads to empowerment and creativity. It is an affirmative act.

Let’s demonstrate the power of this affirmative act by applying it to the concept of ‘internet fragmentation’ that I explored in an earlier article Following Sloterdijk’s logic, refering to this process in terms of fragmentation confronts us with an unsolvable problem. Fragments only have meaning in relation to a whole that was never there, is experienced as lost, and can never be restored. By simply calling it internet foaming instead, we immediately reframe this entire narrative.

Sloterdijk’s foam metaphor offers a compelling framework for understanding our increasingly complex and interconnected world. The internet, with its myriad websites, social media platforms, and online communities, bears a striking resemblance to foam. Each digital space functions as a bubble within this vast foam structure - self-contained yet inextricably linked to others.

Hence, it is not a coincidence that bubbles play a crucial role in the internet’s short history. The 1990s witnessed the rise of the infamous dot-com bubble, closely intertwined with the burgeoning landscape of the OG internet. This economic phenomenon, symbolized by an exuberant surge in the valuation of internet-based companies, eventually reached a critical point in 2000 when it abruptly burst. The collapse of the dot-com bubble sent shockwaves across the global economy, ushering in a period of recession that reverberated worldwide.

In recent years, the pervasive influence of filter bubbles has enveloped us. The concept of filter bubbles revolves around the idea that biased algorithms curate content based on user behavior, thereby creating echo chambers that reinforce existing beliefs and isolate individuals from diverse perspectives. While this tailored digital experience caters to our immediate wants and needs, it concurrently impedes and restricts the potential for meaningful connections with others. Instagram and TikTok trapped us in monad without windows.

Or so we have been told! But is the issue of filter bubbles really a problem of today? Is it truly an internet problem? Television, radio, newspapers, and librarians were — and are — highly selective in their choices; the Lonely Planet lured the entire Western world to the same hostel in Thailand, and the whole concept of a literary canon is quite literally a massive filter bubble. In other words, the modern internet invented neither the economy nor the politics of information: it simply intensified its use, multiplied the amount of bubbles, and rendered its effects more apparent.

More importantly, it is too easy to only focus on the problems. Filter bubbles are not merely determined by misinformation and ignorance, but also by shared values. The inhabitants of these ecosystems relate to each other through what they have in common. They choose to live in a bubble because, for them, it signifies connectedness, commonality, and solidarity. In their purest form bubbles are seeds; they are potential ecosystems.

Popping filter bubbles would thus mean throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Let’s stay in the warm and foamy jacuzzi, while increasing our awareness of its inherent problems. The most undesirable side effects of filter bubbles are two sides of the same coin:

Entrapment: The problem of being confined in a bubble where you do not belong. While people can derive incredible support and meaning from shared common values, being trapped in a community with values that are opposed to your own, or even actively threatening your existence, can feel like a prison.

Solipsism: This is the condition where you genuinely believe that your bubble is the one and only. If you are too enamored by your community’s values, you are bound to overlook its limitations and problems. Every ecosystem is defined by boundaries. A bubble that is good for you can be stifling, or even harmful, to someone else.

From now onward, the challenge lies in solving these problems without reentering the arena of universal values and norms. As soon as we start bursting bubbles again — either that of someone else or our own — foam reveals its most important characteristic: it has no outside. There is no bird’s eye point of view. The outside of a bubble is another bubble. As soon as we truly accept this existential fact, we stop bursting bubbles and begin to foster ecosystems.