Science Fiction Warned Us About Web3

Imagine a life in which your family, friends, and colleagues—everyone you know—are completely and totally alone. Where the only form of social interaction happens in the privacy of your own home through remote-controlled robots that serve as virtual emissaries. It is through these proxies that you never age, never feel pain, never risk danger, and can move in a way that your physical body could only hope for. You’re flawless in every way.

Set in the year 2054, Surrogates depicts such a world. Here, everyone stays at home while beautiful and pristine android versions of themselves—“surrogates”—crowd the outsides. The 2009 film presents the idea of disconnecting from one’s surrogate as not only foolish and dangerous but unfathomable. Believing this technology to be a newfound “freedom,” the human population is blindly devoted to its android delegates; a complete reliance that ultimately dissociates people from any form of emotion and sentiment—a condition they recognize as “safe.” It isn’t until a terrorist plot to destroy the surrogates (and the real people they are connected to) is revealed that the humans consider returning back to reality in order to save themselves. For 90 minutes, viewers face the ethical and moral conundrums that encircle a person’s choice to live safely through his or her surrogate—where they are free of pain, danger, and aging—or dangerously as a human subjected to the realities of the physical world. All the while, Bruce Willis as FBI Agent Tom Greer uses his best efforts to uncover the technological conspiracy that has caused society to forgo their humanity and love for life.

WORDS BY ANDREW ROSSOW

Decades later today, we aren’t so far off from the metaverse that Jonathan Mostow’s movie deptics. We are just as disconnected from our “true” selves and our innermost human desires, but rather than navigating this new space via surrogate robots our entrance is through digital avatars. Even with the aid of contemporary emerging technologies such as non-fungible tokens (NFTs), blockchain, and digital assets, balancing this human desire for permanence and establishment with the right to privacy and anonymity is still questionable. Indeed, one irony remains clear: As we dive deeper into the confines of the metaverse, our journey towards self-discovery becomes blurred and we become more detached from our own identity and dissociated from physical reality.

First coined in Neal Stephenson’s 1992 science fiction novel Snow Crash, the metaverse presents a new and conceptual world of worlds where humans are able to escape their reality by and through programmable avatars to experience something else—to be someone else. The vast, endless potential of what this metaverse will bring to our world’s digital infrastructure, though, requires a broader understanding of what a decentralized World Wide Web actually means. But if one were to visit one of today’s most popular tech conferences (Bitcoin Miami, Consensus, NFT. NYC, or the World Economic Forum, etc.) to ask other attendees what they believed Web3 to be, each would respond differently. That’s because Web3 isn’t just a term that can be attributed to a universal definition. It’s something much more.

At its core, Web3 is both a mindset and movement that changes the way we perceive the physical world around us. It represents an understanding that by decentralizing our traditional real-world infrastructures, we can bridge both the physical and digital realms together to help spark a new form of innovation never seen before. It is this tectonic shift the world is now experiencing as it moves away from the two-dimensional immersion into cyberspace and the Internet for a truly connected, three-dimensional, immersive, and interactive experience with one another. Rather than logging in and out or signing on and off, Web3 brings in the idea of true decentralization as we navigate another reality under our own terms and conditions, free to construct our own boundaries of what we deem to be real.

This mindset not only necessitates a deeper exploration into how new technologies function, but it also depends upon a high level of open-mindedness and awareness that welcomes community and makes worlds within worlds possible. And for that very reason, Web3, according to Constellation Labs Chief Strategy Officer Benjamin Diggles, is “a second chance to do things right” and understand that, while still nascent and imperfect, it’s where we are headed. Of course, it’s easy to throw stones at something that requires pulling several layers apart, a sentiment seen time and time again and dates back to the birth of the Internet.

It was clear in 1994, when anchors Katie Couric, Bryant Gumbel, and Elizabeth Vargas went live on the Today Show to try to explain to America (and themselves), “What is the Internet?” In the just over 60-second segment, the tele-journalists struggle to wrap their minds around the function of an electronic mail address (email) or reasons for which viewers and network programming might have extended and direct dialogues off T.V. air. A year later, Bill Gates sat down with David Letterman to again explain what “the Internet” was after the late night host heard a “breakthrough announcement” that a baseball game was going to be broadcasted live online for the first time. While the Microsoft co-founder describes the Internet as a “place where people [could] publish information,” and individuals could “have their own homepage” and “companies [were] there” with “the latest information,” Letterman, like many, is quick to criticize the future viability and success of something so new and massive that it couldn’t yet be completely understood. “It’s too bad there is no money,” he offers to Gates in their interview, brushing off the idea that the Internet (or a computer) was anything other than a strange, new fad. For many millennials, America Online (AOL) and its underling AOL Instant Messenger (AIM) were game changers in that they collectively served as the gateway to the Internet, providing onestop-shop access to email, news, and of course, the ever-growing buddy list, where you could interact with friends and family in real-time. By the early 2000s, both platforms were the go-to hubs for digital storytelling and eventually made the shift to become a digital media company that acquired a few small others.

Two decades later, we find ourselves situated with remnants of the same skepticism and confusion from before. Only now it’s mixed with massive surges of excitement, devotion, and unparalleled support as we begin to peel the layers back on Web3 and the roads leading into the metaverse. But unlike when other forms of new technology have been introduced in the past, Web3 reconfigures the old adage of if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, harkening the fact that we can always improve as long as we’re operating at full potential. This excitement and support is fueled by the mere fact that Web3 is relatable and, for the first time, introduces an unexpectedly-human variable into the equation. The metaverse as we currently understand, in fact, it is no different than the various depictions of virtual reality we have seen constructed throughout pop culture in notable works such as Gamer, Total Recall, The Matrix, Tron, Surrogates, and of course, Ready Player One—it now just has the added element of choice. It’s a significant change as the biggest uncertainty we face while navigating it is one that has not only preceded AOL but modern tech history entirely—how to be human in the digital age.

The stark reality is that our humanity has continued to slowly dissipate the deeper we have ventured into new technology. This became evident when the element of “interactivity” was first introduced into social media by and through AIM and subsequently MySpace. In a future where individuals are glued to their smartphones and computer screens just to check how many comments, likes, retweets, or shares their post gets, our desire for a better—or even another—life couldn’t be more apparent. As we continue our journey into the metaverse, the question of whether or not identity can transcend beyond the real world remains entirely dependent upon how we choose to recreate and establish ourselves along the way.

Since the early days of instant messaging, we have hidden behind screen names and aliases in order to justify that we belong. Now in Web3, we hide behind digital avatars that have price tags ranging from $0 to over $500,000. “It is a person’s sense of self, including the characteristics that they believe define them,” says Nicole Behnam, a Web3 advisor and founder of the discussion platform Beyond Media. “Personal identity in Web3 is no longer controlled by a central organization; now we get to decide.” But with that comes a dichotomy: our yearning for permanence has led to an unprecedented desire for anonymity and privacy while simultaneously a habit of broadcasting as much information about our every move as possible. Shira Lazar, host of the podcast Inside Web3 and founder of the media brand What’s Trending, believes that humanity and identity in Web3 is “individual, nuanced, intersectional, and multidimensional.” She uses her platforms to create content and education around Web3, bridging the gap between the industry, creators, and consumers. Web3, according to Lazar, currently allows for ways to be anonymous, which is both beneficial and harmful. “Just like Web2 that enables a lack of accountability, this can be extremely problematic. My hope is that we create solutions for this in order to continue expressing ourselves authentically and ethically while amplifying the beauty and possibilities of humanity through these tools.”

Those familiar with the Netflix series Black Mirror have grown accustomed to its methodology of introducing a variety of different characters, settings, and realities that all produce a variety of unique horrifying outcomes for its protagonists. Moreover, the anthological show instills the element of consequence as the reward for society’s unhealthy reliance on technology at the expense of our own humanity. The first episode of Black Mirror ’s fourth season, “USS Callister,” gives viewers one of the most visual depictions of what the metaverse actually looks like, and, in return, collected eight Emmy nominations for Outstanding Television Movie and Best Writing. The hauntingly beautiful episode follows Robert Daly, a gifted and under-recognized programmer and co-founder of a multiplayer online game, who takes his revenge on his unappreciative colleagues through augmented reality-based technology. His online game allows users to become their avatar characters in its metaverse, which gives each an entirely new identity in its digital world. Daly, however, has a special modification of the game that only he can access. Anytime he enters his program, Daly becomes the hero and commander of the USS Callister spaceship, navigating outer space alongside his digital crew, which have been programmed to look like his real-world colleagues and to shower him with unending praise.

As Daly plays out his innermost childhood fantasies, he finds comfort in the simulated adventures as he receives the recognition he so desperately lacks in his real-world. However, the respect of the crew comes at the cost of failure to obey, which results in collective harassment, physical torture, and even alien transformation. Each day, the crew counts down their minutes of freedom from the time Daly logs off and sits idle until he logs in and activates his virtual body for another mission of torture. From the protagonist’s perspective, Daly is a praised, heroic captain who is protecting his crew and saving worlds. To his team and viewers at home, he is an emotionally distraught monster that enjoys causing the suffering of those who’ve deemed his real self inferior. Different from most adaptations of the metaverse, the episode portrays a constantly shifting reality as the story unfolds with each individual plugged in through their earpiece, including Daly’s own understanding of who he was and who he wanted to be.

For Lazar, who also finds importance in promoting wellness and mental health in her space, the idea of “losing our humanity” is definitely possible and “a slippery slope if we aren’t self-aware.” She cautions: “These tools aren’t going anywhere. But how do we find our harmony with them and use them for good in ways we can’t scale our impact IRL?” If we are wrapped up in the doing, the algorithms, and the gamification of our own growth, I worry that we will forget our own humanity and that of others.” Lazar also emphasizes the importance of using virtual reality to create safe spaces for members of the community, specifically women, the LGBTQ, Black, and POC communities, rather than identifying simply as our profile pictures.

Another relevant Black Mirror episode, “White Bear,” is one of the show’s hardest to watch. In it viewers are invited into a world of mystery and questionable justice in which criminals are sentenced to immersive corporal punishments. The episode begins with its main character Victoria awakening tied to a chair with no recollection of where she is or her identity. Making her way through the house, she finds a photograph of herself and a man along with another of a young girl, both of which she takes with her. As Victoria leaves the building, her fear and frustration escalate as bystanders on the street gather but refuse to help. As she pleads for aid, the crowd riles around her, recording her every move with their cell phones. By the episode’s end, we learn that Victoria is not the hero that the show initially led us (and even herself) to believe; but rather, a convicted criminal, who, along with her late husband, filmed, abducted, and murdered the young girl whose photo is shown. The real Victoria is kept permanently at an entertainment facility where actors are employed to frighten her as she relives new performances for different audiences daily. Each evening her psychological torture is revealed to her before her memory is wiped for a new “show.” The narrative blurs the lines between justice and addiction to our smartphones, choosing to use the devices as a form of intimidation and torture. Again, viewers face another difficult question of how we should identify with the protagonist after learning what she has done. Our love and hatred for technology has fueled a pathway for us to choose the ways in which we preserve and destroy our humanity as we journey deeper into the metaverse.

At the end of the day, we all strive to escape our reality so we can enter a world in which we create the rules and shape the parameters of who we are and what we can do, but it comes at a cost. “Technology is just a tool, and it would be foolish to fully depend on it,” emphasizes Behnam. “There is so much that [technology] does not offer that only we as humans can embody.” It will be up to us to create what we deem to be the perfect balance of our desire and love to expand our presence into cyberspace while also remembering who we are in the real world.

You can be anything you want in this world, too.

Swiss-born Ben Ganz isn’t afraid to take risks. Whether developing a fully-fledged campaign for fashion brands or a bespoke identity and art direction for independent publishers, the New York-based artist is constantly looking to not only break the mold—but redefine it. For him, everything that’s graphic design is also object design. Deliverables should be as visually communicative as they are physical and visceral, qualities that are often overlooked, especially in an age dominated by social media and increased digitalization. Ganz is all about defying conventional formats. From jewelry to installations, and furniture in between, the polymath sets his sights far beyond printed matter.

The Yale graduate's use of avant-garde and experimental typography is a key aspect of his practice. His layouts and other interdisciplinary projects are anchored by fit-to-measure fonts that extend beyond the page and become standout visual elements all on their own. Pulling from—but also riffing on—the rich design traditions of his native Switzerland, Ganz often formulates custom letterforms based on the source material of the brief at hand. He’s keen to avoid the obvious and cleverly builds on what’s already in place. His clients and collaborators, including Nike, Prada, and Frank Ocean’s Homer, are presented with design systems in which to develop their own graphics at various scales and for different applications, everything from magazines and posters to billboards.

With an uncompromising approach, Ganz has garnered respect in both fashion and home design circles. His striking, unorthodox concepts help draw-in an audience otherwise oversaturated by the same type of monotonous visual stimuli. Rather than pander to consumer trends, he sees a more art-focused and distinctive approach to design as a way of shifting the narrative and disseminating information with more authenticity.

HOW DID GROWING UP AND STUDYING IN SWITZERLAND INFLUENCE YOU?

You begin to understand the value of design at an early age. It’s cultural. Swiss design with a capital “S” focuses heavily on modernism, and typography pretends to be neutral. My studies at Hochschule Luzern followed this mindset. It was a great way to learn the basics and grasp the amount of detail and craftsmanship that goes into designing a font or layout. However, it didn’t necessarily foster a sense of critical thinking. Hans Rudolf Lutz, a professor who taught at the school in the late 20th century, sought to push the medium further and use typography as a social and political tool. He promoted the idea of using the medium in unconventional ways and thinking beyond standard formats. This legacy was incredibly formative.

WHAT DID GOING TO YALE ADD TO THE EQUATION?

Yale’s Graphic Design MFA program really pushed my practice forward. Sheila Levrant de Bretteville, the head of the department at the time, had a very different approach. On the first day, she told us, “You came here to find out who you are.”

This was shocking and confusing at first, but I began to understand what she meant. I was able to harness the skills I learned before, open up, work more freely, and discover what really wanted to do.

I experimented with different processes and ideas and collaborated with students in other departments. This was backed up by a lot of critical theory that allowed me to assess the Swiss modernist tradition I was trained in from a distance. We were asked to come up with our own content which was new to me. Before studying at Yale, I thought of graphic design as more of a service than an art form. That all changed.

YOU MODIFIED A PRINTER TO CREATE UNEXPECTED RESULTS FOR ONE PARTICULAR PROJECT DURING YOUR TIME THERE.

It’s funny because it was basically a student job. I was asked to make posters for Yale’s Digital Media Center for the Arts (DMCA)—now the Center for Collaborative Arts and Media. The lab had huge printers that no one was using, and I thought it would be fun to experiment with one. I was given free rein to do whatever I wanted. I took out all of its sensors so that I could tear off the paper or canvas I was feeding through the device to stop it from printing or let it print over the same surface multiple times—essentially I was controlling the device by hand. There was an element of chance, which I found intriguing. You might design a poster on a computer but end up with an entirely different result. It’s a mixture of control, giving up control, and happy accidents. took this idea a step further by printing on aluminum, thanks to help from fellow students in the engineering program. This made the posters feel more like objects.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?

The idea of a poster or even a fashion accessory, whatever, being an object adds to graphic design. It becomes haptic. People have a more visceral reaction to something they can hold in their hands instead of what they see on a screen. I always like to consider an object first and think about the layout second rather than the other way around. It lets me start from a macro level and work my way down. Typography becomes the nucleus that ties everything together.

HOW DID YOU USE THIS APPROACH WHEN YOU REDESIGNED NIKE’S LOGO FOR ITS GLOBAL CAMPAIGN?

I worked with Chandelier Creative to reimagine how the brand displays its iconic logo. The previous campaign was colorful and saturated. went with a more muted black and white scheme to evoke its new “back to basic” motto. I was reminded of spending hours as a child hand-drawing the Nike Swoosh and reworking it again and again to get it just right. As an analogy for the idea of improving your own goals, I decided to submit this concept; an iterative system that could be adapted by the company’s numerous global offices based on their specific needs. I’ve also applied this open, big-picture methodology when working on architecture and design-related projects.

AS YOU’VE CROSSED DISCIPLINES, WHAT’S BEEN YOUR OVERALL EXPERIENCE WORKING IN FASHION?

Right out of school, I started working with creative director Ferdinando Verderi. We collaborated on quite a few campaigns for Prada. What I quickly learned is that you might have a clear concept from the outset of a fashion shoot but you don’t need to have a predetermined outcome of what form it might take.

You can test out different solutions until you find the right one. With Verderi I discovered that you can apply the same vision to different mediums in various sizes, so it's okay to begin with complex or esoteric concepts. It’s all about making bigger, bolder moves early on rather than being constrained by a set format.

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR ONGOING COLLABORATION WITH FRANK OCEAN AND HIS LUXURY BRAND HOMER.

The Plus Pendant I developed for Homer was my first object design in collaboration with Frank and Michael Abel, the company’s CDO.

It’s been great to collaborate and we continue to push each other. For the initial product, I was inspired by Swiss typographer Karl Gerstner, who pioneered the relationship between form, color, and sound. It might look effortless, but there’s a lot of precision involved. It’s interesting to translate something in two dimensions—which is how I still think most of the time—into three dimensions. There were challenges given that I’m not trained as a jewelry designer, but I was able to work with the in-house Homer team that offered a lot of support.

WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR OTHER UPCOMING PROJECTS?

I’ll continue working on my regular projects like Homer, PIN–UP, and ongoing campaigns with fashion brands. Maybe it’s because I’m in the process of redoing my apartment-slash-office but I’ve begun to scale up and explore spatial and furniture design. Abel and Nile Greenberg’s New York-based architecture practice ANY is renovating the space. I’m also currently working on a collaboration with a Swiss design company and the project will debut at Design Miami in December 2022. There will be a lot more of that in 2023.