Futures of Learning

If mobile phones are the driving force of the convergent media culture in Korea, then Eomjijok, the Korean version of ‘Thumb Tribe,’ is behind the wheel. Early global youth mobile phone studies have showed that youth mobile phone culture, which is centered on the use of text message and play culture, redefined the mobile phone technology. Apparently, Korean youth mobile phone culture shares many traits to those in other mobile savvy countries. When the mobile phone was first introduced in 1999, it was mainly businessmen who adopted this new technology as an alternative communication tool (Kim, 2001). With the introduction of the text message, however, the mobile phone quickly became the icon of young people. Their swift texting skills and the use of idiosyncratic code languages became typical indicators to identify the Eomjijok. In fact, this notion of Thumb Tribe is popularly adopted throughout East Asia –across China, Korea, and Japan (Bell, 2005). It is hypothesized that the original Japanese coinage of Oyayubisoku (‘Thumb Tribe’) traveled to Korea and was translated as Eomjijok.

Eomjijok & Thumbelinas

Indeed, Eomjijok, is another name of N generation and Digital Sinillyu. Hence, most discussions in early days of the mobile phone focus on their distinctive cultural identity and significance for the transformation in Korean society (Kim, 2005; Kim, 2005; Choi et al, 2005). On the one hand, young people’s quick adoption of mobile phones was interpreted as the reflection of increasing desire to sustain individualism against traditionally collectivist Korean culture. Young people prefer the mobile phone because it allows informal, personal, and unregulated communication (Kwon & Choi, 2003). In that regards, exclusive text message culture of Eomjijok was considered a part of youth subculture (Park, 2000). However, young people’s excessive use of mobile phones was easily criticized as a symptom of addiction. In other cases, their mastery of this new technology presented subversive effects that might violate authorities and/or principles of the official educational system: as seen in the case of the notorious ‘college entrance cheating incident through SMS’ in 2004 (Sung et al, 2007). The massive scale of the incident and young people’s elaborate manipulation of the mobile phone for the crime generated the sensational scandal and stirred up social anxieties about the digital gap between generations. On the other hand, researches show that mobile phones reconfirm young people’s peer networks, which continues the traditional sociality and cultural identity rather than to encroach on them (Na, 2001). Yoon (2003, 2006) argues this ‘relation-oriented’ usage pattern of Korean youth demonstrates the localized practice of mobile phone use and challenges the general assumption on mobile phone as an individualistic technology.

If Eomjijok defined a newly emerged youth mobile phone culture, then the current young generation is born into mobile technology culture. As mobile phones evolve into convergent personal media in Korea, the popularity of the term Eomjijok is slowly fading out. Korean youth become savvy mobile phone users in the early stages of their life. According to the recent research report by KTF (2009), Korean adolescents (12-18) own their first mobile phone comparatively earlier than those in Japan, China, India, and Mexico (www.hani.co.kr). 80.6 percent of Korean adolescents have their own mobile phone (Japan, 77.3%, Mexico, 64%, China, 48.9, and India, 30.6%). Especially, Korea shows higher penetration rate in younger groups. 87.7 percent of 12 years old Korean adolescents already use mobile phones, which far surpasses other countries (Japan, 50%, Mexico, 45.1%, China, 27.7%, and India 11.6 %). In addition, what they care most about is ‘functions and designs’ of mobile phones. Interestingly, regarding their children’s mobile phone usage, Korean parents consider the (excessive) service charge first while parents in other countries express concern about possible exposure to inappropriate content (like adult content) through mobile phones.

Text message is still the most preferred mode of communication among Korean youth; but, the salient use of other mobile phone features - mobile phone imaging, sharing, and MMS messaging- is redefining the culture of Eomjijok (Lee, 2001; Lee et al, 2002; Lee, 2003). Recently, diverse multimedia content services such as ring tones, music files, video contents, games, and location-based services have become the favorite features for Korean youth (Kim, 2005). In particular, teenage girls appear to be more savvy consumers and active adoptors of these additional services. Studies show that there have been “major gender shifts through the usage of 3G mobile phone practices that have seen stereotypes such as female users as ‘passive’ and male users as ‘active’ dismantled” (Hjorth & Kim, 2005; 51). In general, women are “more active than men in their adaptability and willingness to adopt the multi-media functions of mobile phone” in Korea (Lee & Seun, 2004). Beginning with text messaging, Thumbellinas indeed shaped the way in which the mobile phone was appropriated as ‘affective digital technology.’ As girls play with ‘emotext’ (emoticon + Text) and ‘chatting’ among their peers, mobile phones serve to increase the sense of intimacy and belonging to their culture (Kim et al, 2006). It is also common for girls to use mobile phones as a ‘personal memory box,’ the object of emotional affection in and through which they store and share their pictures and/or various gift items (Kim & Lee, 2007). As observed in other countries, Korean girls are passionate about customizing their mobile phones and consider mobile phones as a tool to display their personal identities, much like a fashion accessory (Hjorth & Kim, 2005; Hjorth, 2008: Lee, 2004).

Mobile Screen

What is particularly unique about Korean youth mobile culture is the prevalent use of screen aspect of the mobile phone that parallels with developments in other mobile media. Most screen-based mobile media services target young people as their primary consumers. For example, 3G mobile multimedia content is a particular service added to meet and maximize the demands of young people. All three mobile operators in Korea have already put emphasis on the youth market sectors by offering specialized rate plans for college students (ages 18-23) and high school students (ages 13-18)(Castells, 2007). Therefore, Korean youth are comparatively more exposed to the latest mobile media service due to the highly segmented and customized service plans and innovative services designed especially for them.

In order to satisfy young people’s appetite, Korean mobile operators explored mobile-specific contents since 2002: SK Telecom’s mobile cinema series and mobile drama are good examples. In particular, Fives Stars (2004) is interesting in that it represents the entertainment business strategy to commercialize and appropriate digital youth culture, particularly, girls subculture (Ok, 2008). Fives Stars was advertised as the first ‘mobile interactive drama’ while simultaneously functioning as a multimedia entertainment project that included other auxiliary media projects such as Idol Boy bands, digital photography picture book, OST, music videos, and even mobile games. Premiering in October 2004, Five Stars set the record as the most popular original mobile drama produced in Korea as well as the 3rd most popular drama among all mobile video contents on SK Telecom’s network. It is reported that 75,000 users accessed its service for the first 15 days and more than 400,000 users have downloaded it. Most of all, its appeal originates from the fact that it adopted the popular Internet novel by Gwiyoni, a famous girl writer whose idiosyncratic writings generated syndrome since early 2000s. In fact, Gwiyoni syndrome represents young people’s increasing new media production in online space, which I will discuss in a subsequent post. In this way, Fives Stars demonstrates how new media technology – such as Internet and mobile phones – constructs the commercial, but yet alternative space for youth and vice versa.

Increasing popularity of PMP (portable media player) and convergent mobile media among youth people intensifies this trend toward the personal screen culture, driving young people, who already migrated to the online for media consumption, further away from conventional media. It is reported that 2,300,000 PMP (portable media player) were sold in 2007, surmounting the sales of TV sets at 2,100,000. Chung Seok-Won, Vice-President of Raincom, credits the dramatic increase of sales of PMP to the “frenzy of downloaded video clip such as American TV shows and UCC since the beginning of 2006”(www.chosun.com). Due to the comparatively high cost of purchasing these devices and accessing multimedia contents, young adults who are in their early twenties more actively engage with the mobile screen. They typically watch downloaded content (TV drama, animation, and movies) or TV broadcasting through the mobile TV service during their commute or down time (Ok, 2008).

It is not surprising that with the vigorous uptake of mobile screens, social anxieties about young people’s private consumption of media content without adults’ supervision have increased. Adult contents, which encompass semi-nude pictures of female star entertainers and erotic cartoons/novels, have proven to be the most profitable mobile video contents. It is acknowledged that from the early days of mobile content services, mobile adult contents have been condemned to be the most profitable yet shameful ‘gold mine’ for mobile phone service providers. It has also been the most visible target of heated public debate for its potential to damage and corrupt social customs, particularly for its presumed ‘bad’ influence on young people. In early 2005, the Commission on Youth Protection, a government agency, expanded its precautionary monitoring on the ‘potentially harmful content’ to mobile content service and urged mobile service providers to install appropriate screening systems in order to forbid children’s access to adults contents through such measure as ‘Special Mobile Service Contract for Youth Protection’. In June 2006, the Commission on Youth Protection filed a lawsuit against mobile service providers for transmitting ‘illegal pornographic content’. Eventually, after legal persecutions, SK Telecom declared the termination of all adult contents in July 2006.

Overall, Korean youth usages of mobile phones demonstrate that mobile phone technology allows young people to create an alternative space outside of their daily institutionalized environment.

References

English Sources

Bell, G. (2005). The Age of the Thumb: A Cultural Reading of Mobile Technologies from Asia. In P. Glotz & S. Bertschi (Eds.), Thumb Culture: Social Trends and Mobile Phone Use (pp. 67-87). Bielefeld: Transcript Verlag.

Castells, M. et al. (2007). Mobile Communication and Society: A Global Perspective. . Cambridge: MIT Press.

Kim, J. (2005). An Examination and Comparison of Mobile Phone Uses by Adolescents and Adults. Korean Journal of Journalism & Communication Studies, 49(3), 262-386.

Kwon, I., & Choi, J. (2003). Understanding Youth Culture and Characteristics of Cellular Phone Communication in Korea. Studies on Korean Youth, 14(2), 81-118.

Hjorth, L. (2008). Being Real in the Mobile Reel: A Case Study on Convergent Mobile Media as Domesticated New Media in Seoul, South Korea. Convergence, 14(1), 91-104.

Hjorth, L., & Kim, H. (2005). Being There and Being Here: Gendered Customizing of 3G Mobile Practices – Through a Case Study in Seoul. Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies, 11, 49-55.

Lee, D. (2005). Women’s Creation of Camera Phone Culture. Fibreculture Journal, Mobility, New Social Intensities and the Coordinates of Digital Networks, (6). Retrieved September 2007 from http://journal.fibreculture.org/issue6/.

Lee, D., & Seun, H. (2004). Is There a Gender Difference in Mobile Phone Usage? In Proceedings of Mobile Communication and Social Change Conference. Seoul, Korea.

Ok. H. (2008). Screens on the Move: Media Convergence and Mobile Culture in Korea. Doctoral dissertation, University of Southern California, Los Angeles, CA.

Yoon, K. (2003). Retraditionalizing the Mobile: Young People’s Sociality and Mobile Phone Use in Seoul, South Korea. European Journal of Cultural Studies, 6(3), 327-343.
------, (2006). The making of Neo-Confucian Cyberkids: Representations of Young Mobile phone Users in South Korea. New Media Society, 8(5), 753-771.

Korean Sources

Kim, E. et al (2006). Mobile Sonyeodeului Suda Ddeolgi (Mobile Girls’ Chatting). In D.H. Lee et al (Eds.), Mobile Girls @ digital.asia. Paju, Korea: Hanul Academy.

Kim, H. (2005). Cheongsonyeongwa Hyudejeonhwa (Adolescents and Mobile Phone). Issue Report, Seoul, Korea: Korea Agency for Digital Opportunity & Promotion.

Kim, M. (2005). Yidong Jeonhwareul Tonghan Eomeoni Noreutui Jesengsan (Reproduction of Mothering Role through Mobile Phone Use). Korean Journal of Journalism & Communication Studies, 49(4), 140-165.

Kim, S. (2001). Homotellephonicuseuui Deongjang: Yidongjeonhwa Hwaksaneui Yeonghyaneul Michin Sahyoemunhwajeok Yoine Gwanhan Yeongu (The Emergence of Homotelephonicus: The Study of Socio-cultural factors of the dissemination of Mobile Phone). Korean Journal of Journalism & Communication Studies, 45(2), 62-85.

Kim, Y., & Lee, J. (2006). Jeongseojeok Mediaroseoui Handphone: Sipdeyeoseongdeului Ilsangjeok Handphone Sayongeul Jungsimeuro (Handphone as Emotional Media: Focusing on the Teenage Girl’s Daily Use of Handphone). In D.H. Lee et al (Eds.), Mobile . Paju, Korea: Hanul Academy.

Lee, J. (2001). Chigo Tterigi, Munjaserviceui Chogakseong, geurigo Sotongui Kyoirak: N sedeui Munjaservice Sobiwa Munhwa Ilgi (Tinkering, Tactility of Text Message Service, and the Pleasure of Communication: N Generation’s Text Message Culture). In Proceedings of Annual Conference of Korean Society of Journalism & Communication Studies (pp. 48-83). Seoul, Korea.

Lee, S. (2003). Yidongjeonhwa Yiyonge Kwanhan Yeongu: Eumseongtonghwaservicewa Munjaserviceganui Kwangyereul Jungsimeuro (Mobile Phone Use: Relationship between Voice call Service and Text message service). Korean Journal of Journalism & Communication Studies, 47(5), 87-114.

Lim, S. et al. (2006). Sonyeodeului Handphone Nolyi (Girls’ Handphone Play). In D.H. Lee et al (Eds.), Mobile Girls @ digital.asia. Paju, Korea: Hanul Academy.

Na, E. (2001). Yidongjeonhwa chetaekui Yeonghyangeul michineun Yidongjeonhwa Communicationui Sokseonge Gwanhan Yeongu (The Study of Media Specificity of Mobile Phone in Relation to the User’s Choice of Mobile Phone Service. Korean Journal of Journalism & Communication Studies, 45(4), 189-228.
------, (2005). Cheongsonyeuneui Yidonjeonhwa Echakyiyong, Hyogwa Jigak mit Communication Hyonyeunggam: 2002, 2004 nyeun Seoul, Sudogweon Jijeok Junggodeunghaksengeul Jungsimeuro (Teens’ Usage of Mobile Phone, Perception of the Effects of Mobile Phone, and Efficacy for Communication: Survey on Middle and High School Students in 2002 and 2004). Korean Journal of Journalism & Communication Studies, 49(6), 198-232.

Park, J. (2000). Cheongsonyeundeului Yidongjeonhwa Yiyong Hyeonsangeso Natananeun Hawimunhwajeok Teukseonge kwanhan Yeongu (Subcultural Characteristics of Adolescent’s Mobile Phone Use). Master Thesis, Seoul National University, Seoul, Korea.

Sung, Y., Park, H. W., & Park, S. (2006). Cheongsonyeuneui Newmedia Yiyonghyeunhwanggwa Munjejeom mit Deyeungbangan - Mobileeul Jungsimeuro- (New Media Use of Adolescents, Problems and Policies: With Focus on Mobile). Seoul; Korea: Korea Institute for Youth Development.

Mobile “Graffiti Advertising,” Beijing, 2007 ** Bandit Phone Display, Shenzhen, August 2008

As mentioned in my previous post, China’s mobile phone market has seen tremendous growth in a relatively short period of time. With the diffusion of cell phones in China, certain distinctive (though not wholly unique) traits of mobile phone use have emerged. The first is that although business people in China make voice calls frequently, the majority of mobile phone users, including youth, communicate primarily via text message. The sheer volume of text messaging in China is astounding. In 2007, 592.1 billion text messages were sent, for an average of 1.6 billion/day and a daily revenue of 160 million yuan (roughly US $21 million) (http://news.xinhuanet.com/english/2008-02/08/content_7581868.htm). In most cases, text messaging is not necessarily used for reasons of courtesy to those occupying the same public space (as in Japan). On the contrary, loud mobile phone conversations on public transport, in restaurants, and on elevators are not uncommon. I have even heard people answer their cell phones in movie theaters. Rather, one reason for the prevalence of texting is it is cheap: about US 1.4 cents per message.

Text messages in China are often self-written, but the use of pre-written messages is also common. These types of messages are widely available and can either be copied from inexpensive books for sale at kiosks and mom and pop stores or downloaded from the Internet, though most people merely forward messages they have received. The contents are usually jokes, sentimental poems, erotica, or holiday greetings. For example, during the 2008 Chinese New Year period, approximately 17 billion text messages were sent. Though people from all walks of life send pre-written messages, among the rural-to-urban migrant women I met during my fieldwork in 2006-07 there was a large reliance on such messages. One reason was in order to compensate for low literacy levels (especially difficulty with inputting characters) (Wallis, 2008).  Another was to communicate emotions the women felt they could not properly express in their own words and to explore their sexual identity (Lin, 2005; Wallis, 2008). However, the flowery language of many such messages means that they are often disparaged by those who are more educated (Wallis, forthcoming). There is also a growing awareness in China that most pre-written messages are meant to cater to the tastes of lower social strata (Cartier, Castells, & Qiu, 2005).

Though most cell phone users in China use pre-paid cards due to their flexibility and convenience, mobile phone calling plans in China are not merely innocuous economic configurations based on rational market forces. Like so many other products and services that have arisen in the past decade or so, they bear distinct attributes intended to bestow status and to differentiate among users. One of the most noticeable examples of this distinction derives from mobile phone numbers themselves. First, cell phone prefixes are linked to a specific provider, with more prestige going to China Mobile. As the incumbent in the mobile phone market, China Mobile tends to offer better coverage and more service options in most areas (though the recent telecom restructuring might change this). Second, one’s number also reveals the type of service plan one has. For example, China Mobile’s “GoTone” brand provides subscribers with a variety of services, including international roaming, mobile Internet, mobile banking, MMS, GPS, and a “mobile secretary.” Beyond phone services, GoTone, as the package for “high-class customers,” also offers VIP clients “distinguished” airport service and a professional style golf club (http://www.chinamobile.com/gotone/profile/). On China Mobile’s website, the company boasts GoTone’s “intangible assets” that are “symbolized in success, self-confidence, and high taste” (http://www.chinamobile.com/gotone/profile/intro/). The blurb for the service even indirectly invokes the language of quality (suzhi) through comparing GoTone customers’ level and quality of “development” to its own. This information is not only available to subscribers or those who have perused China Mobile’s promotional materials. Because it is widely known that GoTone uses the 134 through 139 prefixes, these three-digit prefixes confer status on their users (This is perhaps somewhat akin to area codes in certain parts of the U.S., as in Los Angeles, for example, where a 310 area code, which signifies a Westside residence, carries more prestige than an 818 area code, which is used for phone numbers in the San Fernando Valley).

Regardless of provider or service plan, one’s mobile phone number itself is a mark of prestige. Unlike in the U.S. where numbers are usually randomly assigned to a cell phone subscriber, in China SIM cards with mobile numbers must be purchased separately in order to use a phone. Since mobile numbers in China are rather long (11 digits), numbers that have repeating digits are more expensive because these types of numbers are easier to remember. Numbers are also more costly based on whether they are considered lucky or unlucky. A phone number with a large amount of eights, for example, will be more expensive, and again confer status, since eight is an auspicious number in Chinese culture. On the other hand, a number ending in four (a homonym for death in Chinese) will be inexpensive and possibly create discomfort for a caller.

Mobile phones have now become a personal necessity for a vast majority of China’s city residents and they seem to be everywhere. Whole city blocks full of cell phone shops exist in cities as diverse as Beijing in the north and Nanning in the south. Urban metro stations, bus stops, and rooftops have all become display sites for ubiquitous cell phone advertising. Radio and TV shows, Internet portals, and advertising companies all vie for attention on and through people’s cell phones, and for those who don’t have the money to promote their services by such legitimate means, spray painting one’s mobile number on walls or sidewalks has become a new kind of guerrilla advertising (often for quasi-illicit services), as in the image above on the left.

Mobile users in China, particularly urban youth, tend to change handsets quickly. One reason is that the mobile handset industry in China consists of both global brands as well as a number of domestic manufacturers that release new models much more frequently than in other parts of the world. Another factor is that the heavy use of pre-paid phone cards means users are not locked into a contract with a particular phone. A recent trend has been the popularity of “bandit” phones (shanzhaiji), so-called because they fall into a grey zone in that they are not black-market phones, but they are not fully legal either. They are manufactured by small companies in southern China and are distinguished by being relatively cheap and loaded with functions. Sometimes they look like replicas of popular models, such as the iPhone, but come with a name such as “Hiphone.” Other bandit phones have cool or kitsch designs (see image above right). Bandit phones are popular among low-income groups such as migrants as well as trendy, geeky kids, but also among those who buy them to express a nationalist sentiment by not buying a global brand such as Nokia. Ironically, however, in purchasing a bandit phone, they are undercutting China’s legitimate domestic phone market (Zheng & Chen, 2008).

In terms of in-depth research on mobile phone use, thus far the focus has been on either the urban or the rural-to-urban migrant population, though exceptions where both populations have been included in the same study do exist, such as in the work of Fortunati, Manganelli, Law, and Yang (2008) and Yang (2006). This split in research design is in line with what are perceived to be vast gaps between these two populations in terms of material resources, life conditions, and opportunities. Both bodies of literature have found, not surprisingly, that young migrant workers in southern factories and “cool” (linglei) urban youth in Beijing voiced similar connections between owning a mobile phone and perceived social status or maintenance of “face” (Yang & Chu, 2006; Wang, 2005). In addition, gendered differences in preferences of mobile phone types as well as discourses about mobile phones have also been found among both groups (Yu & Tng, 2003; Wallis, 2008).

Perhaps because of the particular position they occupy within Chinese society, more in-depth research has been done on mobile phone use among rural-to-urban migrants than among urban residents. Cartier, Castells, & Qiu (2005) argue that “working class ICTs” such as the xiaolingtong (“Little Smart”), a less expensive mobile phone with limited geographic mobility (it runs off the fixed-line telephone system), as well as pre-paid calling cards enable migrants to become part of the “information have-less” (as opposed to have-nots). Recently, the popularity of Little Smart phones seem to be declining as the costs of standard mobile phones also decrease. Cell phones have become crucial tools for migrants, who often have minimal access to landlines outside of public call bars (huaba), to maintain as well as expand their social networks (Chu & Yang, 2006; Law & Peng, 2006). Dating via the mobile phone – where a relationship is initiated and sustained through text messaging and voice calls with a face-to-face meeting not taking place for several months – has also become a common feature of mobile phone use among young adult migrants (Law & Peng, 2006; Wallis, 2008). In using mobile phones to autonomously establish intimate relationships, young migrant women in particular challenge parental authority in such decisions. However, I noticed that they also engage in practices that blend the traditional as much as the technological, through, for example, relying on intermediaries for introductions (Wallis, 2008). However, more widespread availability of QQ (a chat program) on cell phones may be changing this situation, as QQ has become a popular venue for anonymous sexual solicitations. Still, whatever the means, those migrant women who establish intimate relationships outside of parental approval are not always able to follow through on their plans for the future, for reasons of self-protection, filial obligation, and financial security (Ma & Cheng, 2005). Thus, the long-term effects of such autonomy remain unknown.

Due to the nature of Chinese social relationships and the distinctions made between friends, colleagues, classmates, and the like, several studies have found that many rural-to-urban migrants do not have anybody they consider a “real friend” in their immediate vicinity (Law & Peng, 2006; Ma & Cheng, 2005). Thus, the cell phone emerges not so much as a “supportive communication technology” (Yoon, 2003) for relationships that are primarily maintained through face-to-face contact, but as an “expansive communication tool” used for maintaining ties with friends and lovers who are spread all over China (Wallis, 2008). In other words, many migrants have a number of close relationships that are maintained almost strictly through their mobile phone.

A final body of research on mobile phones in China has examined how cell phones, particularly via text messaging, are increasingly used for popular mobilization and subverting the dominant discourse. Such usage first became widespread during the SARS outbreak in 2003, when ordinary citizens used SMS to counter the government’s attempt to block dissemination of information about the epidemic through traditional media channels (Castells, et al., 2007). Yu (2004) argues that such usage constituted a “third realm” in state-society relations and a means of “informed citizenship” (p. 31). Since that time, SMS has been implicated in everything from organizing protests to block the construction of a toxic chemical plant (Nanfang Dushibao) to mobilizing “angry youth” during anti-Japanese riots in 2005. Though the government has tried to keep pace with the information spread via text messaging through devising new filtering and tracking techniques, it certainly cannot control all of the content sent through SMS (Qiu, 2007). For this reason, it uses both “hard power” techniques such as periodically arresting users for spreading “malicious rumors,” as well as softer measures, including sponsoring contests for ordinary citizens to write “red” (“healthy” or encouraging) messages and quash so-called “yellow” (sexual or pornographic) messages (Zhang, 2006). Because text messages often contain politically and morally subversive content, He (2008) argues that SMS, as a “fifth” media channel, has become a “major carrier of the nonofficial discourse” in China. This certainly was the case during the 2008 Olympics, when I received SMS jokes skewering the skills (or lack of) of China’s soccer team and praising the athletic as well as sexual ability of China’s gymnasts. The role of text messaging in China in creating a space for alternative discourse and a virtual public sphere is clearly a fascinating topic for further research.

References
Cartier, C., Castells, M., & Qiu, J. L. (2005). The information have-less: Inequality, mobility, and translocal networks in Chinese cities. Studies in Comparative International Development, 40(2), 9-34.

Castells, M., Fernandez-Ardevol, M., Qiu, J. L., & Sey, A. (2007). Mobile communication and society: A global perspective. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Chu, W.-C. & Yang, S. (2006). Mobile phones and new migrant workers in a South China village: An initial analysis of the interplay between the ‘social’ and the ‘technological.’ In P.-L. Law, L. Fortunati & S. Yang (Eds.), New technologies in global societies (pp. 221-244). Singapore: World Scientific.

Fortunati, L., Manganelli, A. M., Law, P., & Yang, S. (2008). Beijing calling… Mobile communication in contemporary China. Knowledge, Technology, Policy, 21, 19-27.

He, Z. (2008). SMS in China: A major carrier of the nonofficial discourse universe. The Information Society, 24, 182-190.

Law, P.-L. & Peng, Y. (2006). The use of mobile phones among migrant workers in Southern China. In P.-L. Law, L. Fortunati & S. Yang (Eds.), New technologies in global societies (pp. 245-258). Singapore: World Scientific Press.

Lin, A. (2005, June). Romance and sexual ideologies in SMS manuals circulating among migrant workers in Southern China. Paper presented at the International Conference on Mobile Communication and Asian Modernities. City University of Hong Kong

Ma, E. & Cheng, H. L. H. (2005). ‘Naked’ bodies: Experimenting with intimate relations among migrant workers in South China. International Journal of Cultural Studies, 8(3), 307-328.

Qiu, J. L. (2007). The wireless leash: Mobile messaging service as a means of control. International Journal of Communication, 1, 74-91.

Wallis, C. (2008). Technomobility in the margins: Mobile phones and young rural women in Beijing. Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation. University of Southern California.

Wallis, C. (forthcoming). (Im)mobile mobility: Marginal youth and mobile phones in Beijing. In R. Ling & S. Campbell (Eds.), Mobile communication: Bringing us together or tearing us apart? New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers.

Wang, J. (2005). Youth culture, music, and cell phone branding in China. Global Media and Communication 1(2), 185-201.

Yang, B. (2006, October). Privatizing public spaces and personalizing private spaces: The role of the mobile phone in social networking in Beijing. Paper presented at Beijing Forum 2006, Beijing University.

Yang, S. H. & Chu, W.-C. (2006). Shouji: Quanqiuhua beijingxia de ‘zhudong’ xuanze—Zhusanjiao diqu nongmingong shouji xiaofei de wenhua he xintai de jiedu (“Mobile phone: ‘Selecting their own initiative’ under the background of globalization”). In Jincheng nongmingong: Xianzhuang, qushi, women neng zuo xie shenme (Rural-urban migrants: Situations, trends and what we can do) (pp. 301-308). Beijing People’s University Institute for Agriculture and Rural Development.

Yoon, K. (2003). Retraditionalizing the mobile: Young people’s sociality and mobile phone use in Seoul, Korea. European Journal of Cultural Studies, 6(33), 327-343.

Yu, H. (2004). The power of thumbs: The politics of SMS in urban China.” Graduate Journal of Asia-Pacific Studies, 2(2), 30-43.

Yu, L. & Tng, T. H. (2003). Culture and design for mobile phones in China. In J. E. Katz (Ed.), Machines that become us: The social context of personal communication technology (pp. 187-198). New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers.

Zhang, Y. (2006). “Hong duanzi” weijiao “huang duanzi.” (“Red” messages suppress “yellow” messages). Jiaoshi Bolan (Teachers Digest) 139, 31-32.

Zheng, T., & Chen, Y. (August 21, 2008). Fengkuang shanzhaiji (Crazy bandit phones). Nanfang Renwu Zhoukan (Southern People Weekly), 24, 56-59.

As China has become an increasingly central actor on the world stage, and with the 2008 Olympics recently held in Beijing, there is a great deal of interest in this vast and diverse nation. China is undergoing numerous changes, not least of which is its rapid growth in telecommunications: it currently leads the world in both number of mobile phone subscriptions and Internet users, with roughly 616 million and 253 million, respectively, according to Chinese government statistics. In this post I will discuss one aspect of digital media use in China: how young rural-to-urban migrants in Beijing are using mobile phones as a crucial tool for building and enriching their social networks. My discussion here is based on a portion of my recently completed research in Beijing (Wallis, 2008), in which I was concerned with how young migrants, especially young women, engaged with mobile phones to create meaning in their lives in the city, and what economic, social, cultural, and structural forces enabled and constrained such usage within the dislocations and contradictions that characterize contemporary China. I was primarily concerned with what I call “socio-techno practices,” or the ways in which new communication technologies are integrated into existing social practices and at the same time open up new spaces or possibilities for their enactment.

To briefly provide some context, while rural-to-urban migration is common throughout the world, the role of the state in China makes migration there an interesting phenomenon. Prior to the government’s policy of “reform and opening” (gaige kaifang) in the late seventies, China’s household registration system (hukou) severely restricted people’s mobility and with few exceptions kept the rural and the urban populations separated geographically and culturally. Though substantially weakened, the hukou still serves as an institutional barrier that prevents those from rural areas from gaining full urban citizenship, and it works as a cultural barrier, helping to perpetuate myriad forms of exploitation and discrimination against rural “peasants” who migrate from the countryside to seek work in China’s cities. Deemed a “floating population” (liudong renkou), migrant workers are largely responsible for building the incredible infrastructure that has gone up in China’s cities in recent years, including Beijing’s National Aquatics Center (the Water Cube) and the National Stadium (the Bird’s Nest) that were on display during the Olympics. And though migrants also staff the shops, restaurants, and marketplaces that are now everywhere, for the most part they cannot participate in such modes of consumption and leisure enjoyed by China’s rising middle class (and elites). Young migrant women are often called dagongmei, meaning “working little sister” or “maiden worker,” a term that connotes a young, unmarried woman with low status and few rights. In the media and official documents, they are frequently portrayed as weak and vulnerable, even though they might not see themselves that way.

My study involved about 70 women and 20 men who were young (aged 16 to 25), single, and had journeyed to Beijing after finishing some or all of middle school. They were employed in restaurants, marketplaces, and hair salons, where they hoped to earn some income, learn some skills, and “see the world,” as they put it. They tended to earn rather low wages, and many worked 10 or 12 hours a day, some with one or two days off per month and others with no days off except during Chinese New Year. The women in particular occupied a very limited social space; usually their lives revolved around their jobs and their dorm or tiny apartment, which was often supplied by their employer. Their circumscribed place was further enforced by spatial and discursive power relations that construct the city as unsafe and unwelcoming due to their position as women and outsiders, marked by their accent, their build, and their mannerisms. Several women told me that though they might have a relative in Beijing, such as an aunt, uncle, or sibling, their friends (as opposed to co-workers) did not live in Beijing, and even when they had friends in Beijing, it was often hard for them to meet due to work schedules and distances (Beijing is a very large city and traveling by bus, as migrants do, is often quite time consuming).

So how does a mobile phone make a difference for them? Many of the men and women I interviewed had grown up without a landline in their family home. They also did not have one in their residence in Beijing, and their access to fixed-line phones at work was either non-existent or very limited. While there are pay phones and “call bars” all over Beijing, these are inconvenient and lack privacy. Perhaps it is not surprising then that the first “big” item bought by all the migrants I knew was a cell phone. Buying their first phone was such a significant event that nearly every participant in my study could tell me the date, time, and place of the purchase, who had accompanied them, the price, and how long it had taken them to save up enough money (usually several months). Often sacrifices were involved in buying a mobile phone and tough choices had to be made: a phone was bought instead of new clothes, a television, a bike, or even a precious train ticket home after months of being away.

As the first major item purchased with one’s urban wages, and one on which an inordinate amount of money is spent – often one or two month’s salary even when cheaper models are available, as also noted in prior research among migrant workers in China’s southern factories (Law & Peng, 2006; Yang & Chu, 2006) – clearly a cell phone has symbolic meaning. But more importantly, such telephonic “leapfrogging” makes a profound difference in migrants’ ability both to increase and enhance their social networks. In other words, it allows them to build up contacts in a manner previously unavailable and provides an important means for expanding their personal networks (guanxiwang), something extremely vital in a culture where personal relationships and bonds of reciprocity are often crucial for facilitating numerous types of social functions. Perhaps even more important than the expanded social networks enabled by the mobile phone, however, is the way the cell phone is used to enrich social relationships. Given the constraints on migrants’ time, the circumscribed social world they occupy in the city, and the far distances that often separate them from those with whom they are emotionally close, the ability to surpass these spatial, temporal, and structural barriers is extremely important. What I noted on many occasions was that many close friendships were maintained strictly through a mobile phone; that is, it is not mostly a “supportive communication technology” (Yoon, 2003) for relationships that are primarily sustained through face-to-face contact. It was instead what I call an “expansive communication tool,” used not only for maintaining ties with friends who are now spread all over China but also with those who although in the same city are nonetheless geographically unreachable. 

For this reason, the connectivity provided through the mobile phone should not be underestimated. Connectivity means communication, which lies at the heart of the social world, and such connectivity allows migrants – often isolated, often discriminated against – an anchoring and inclusion in networks of sociality that are crucial to their well-being in the city. In this regard, the sheer convenience of the cell phone is also not a trivial matter (and it is interesting to note that not one of my informants ever mentioned safety as a reason for buying a phone). For most migrants, especially young women, the mobile phone is not just one more communication device added to a fixed-line phone and/or a computer with Internet access. It is their primary, if not only, means of keeping in touch with others. Certainly prior to the arrival of the mobile phone, migrant workers remained in contact with family and very close friends, through using public phones, writing letters, with pagers, and so forth. However, the transformation in ease and frequency of access facilitated via the mobile phone is hard to fathom for those of us who have been surrounded by ubiquitous telephony our entire lives. For China’s young rural-to-urban migrants, and most likely for other populations with similarly constrained material circumstances, inclusion in social networks via the mobile phone thus serves as a counter-domination tactic against such limiting and limited life conditions. Often studies of how marginalized populations use new communication technologies such as cell phones understandably put heavy emphasis on economic outcomes, yet the affective/emotional benefits for such groups are also extremely significant and a rich area for further exploration.

References
China Internet Network Information Center (CNNIC) (http://www.cnnic.cn).

China Ministry of Industry and Information Technology (http://www.miit.gov.cn).

Law, Pui-lam, and Yinni Peng. “The Use of Mobile Phones among Migrant Workers in Southern China.” In New Technologies in Global Societies, edited by Pui-lam Law, Leopoldina Fortunati, and Shanhua Yang, 245-258. Singapore: World Scientific, 2006.

Yang, Shanhua, and Wai-chi Chu. ”Shouji: Quanqiuhua Beijingxia de ‘Zhudong’ Xuanze—Zhusanjiao Diqu Nongmingong Shouji Xiaofei de Wenhua he Xintai de Jiedu (“Mobile Phone: ‘Selecting Their Own Initiative’ under the Background of Globalization”).” In Jincheng Nongmingong: Xianzhuang, Qushi, Women Neng Zuo Xie Shenme (Rural-Urban Migrants: Situations, Trends and What we can do), 301-308. Beijing, China: People’s University Institute for Agriculture and Rural Development, 2006.

Yoon, Kyongwon. “Retraditionalizing the Mobile: Young People’s Sociality and Mobile Phone Use in Seoul, Korea,” European Journal of Cultural Studies, 6.33 (2003): 327-343.

Wallis, Cara. “Technomobility in the Margins: Mobile Phones and Young Rural Women in Beijing.” Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation. University of Southern California, 2008.