10.6092/issn.2038-3460/17380
Surveillance cameras are fast-growing technologies in contemporary society. In poorer countries, they are used to curb urban crime; in richer nations, they are also employed to fight terrorist threats. In this scenario DIO arises, a mobile phone game (still in development) that deals with the rampant increase of surveillance cameras in urban spaces. The game promotes a collaborative mapping of cities by inviting players to complete the following tasks: 1) geolocate, photograph, and log surveillance cameras scattered around the city; 2) compete against the opposing team for control of the cameras. Once registered, those cameras become playable geolocation points with which players can interact when physically close. This article presents the basic game plot, rules, and dynamics as well as a discussion on the increasing financialization and marketization of personal data and how to approach these issues through gaming.
application/pdf
2038-3460
17380
2
en
Felipe Lavignatti
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.5/
Tecnoscienza – Italian Journal of Science & Technology Studies
GPS
DIO: A Surveillance Camera Mapping Game for Mobile Devices
Text.Serial.Journal
https://tecnoscienza.unibo.it/
8
Essays
2018-01-29
2023-06-25
2018-01-29
2023-08-24
129-150
TS
Felipe Lavignatti
2017
10.6092/issn.2038-3460/17380
129
Cidade Universitária Zeferino Vaz Campinas
2038-3460
2
GPS
en
150
DIO: A Surveillance Camera Mapping Game for Mobile Devices
https://tecnoscienza.unibo.it/article/download/17380/16237
8
                                                                                             Essay
                                                                                                        129




DIO: A Surveillance Camera Mapping
Game for Mobile Devices
    Rafael de                       Tiago C.              Sarah Costa               Felipe
    Almeida                          Soares                 Schmidt               Lavignatti
   Evangelista                  USP – Universidade de     Cidade Universitária   Cidade Universitária
  Cidade Universitária             São Paulo (BR)            Zeferino Vaz           Zeferino Vaz
     Zeferino Vaz                                           Campinas (BR)          Campinas (BR)
    Campinas (BR)



     Abstract: Surveillance cameras are fast-growing technologies in contem-
     porary society. In poorer countries, they are used to curb urban crime; in
     richer nations, they are also employed to fight terrorist threats. In this sce-
     nario DIO arises, a mobile phone game (still in development) that deals
     with the rampant increase of surveillance cameras in urban spaces. The
     game promotes a collaborative mapping of cities by inviting players to com-
     plete the following tasks: 1) geolocate, photograph, and log surveillance
     cameras scattered around the city; 2) compete against the opposing team
     for control of the cameras. Once registered, those cameras become playa-
     ble geolocation points with which players can interact when physically
     close. This article presents the basic game plot, rules, and dynamics as well
     as a discussion on the increasing financialization and marketization of per-
     sonal data and how to approach these issues through gaming.

     Submitted: October 17, 2016 – November 15, 2017

     Keywords: surveillance; personal data; CCTV; pervasive games; GPS.

     Corresponding author: Rafael de Almeida Evangelista, Labjor – Unicamp
     Rua Seis de Agosto, 50 - 3o piso, Cidade Universitária Zeferino Vaz
     Campinas – São Paulo, Brazil CEP 13083-873. Email: rae@unicamp.br




1. Introduction

    Surveillance cameras are fast growing technologies in contemporary so-
ciety. In Britain alone, one of the pioneering countries in installing public
surveillance systems dependent on remote images, an estimated 5.9 million
cameras are in use by public and private organizations (Barret 2013).
TECNOSCIENZA
Italian Journal of Science and Technology Studies
8 (2) pp. 129-150 – ISSN 2038-3460
www.tecnoscienza.net                                    2017
130                                                              Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

     Security concerns are the main reason for the widespread use of sur-
veillance cameras in cities – in poorer areas, to curb urban crime (Kana-
shiro 2008; Carr 2016); in richer areas, to fight terrorism threats (as illus-
trated by the large number of devices installed in Manhattan by the New
York Police Department). In NY, there are 4,000 CCTV cameras, public
and private, operating in a single part of the city. In Boston, a similar, al-
beit smaller system was employed to identify the perpetrators of the 2013
terrorist attacks (Kelly 2013). Writing on the use of CCTV in Barcelona,
Clavell (2011, 525) states that it became popular as “part of a broader
project to promote ‘civility’ and eliminate ‘anti-social behaviour’”. Work-
ing properly or not, CCTV has become part of our cultural repertoire
(Groombridge 2002).
     Surveillance cameras are one of many technologies – like traffic sen-
sors, pollution monitors, flood sensors and others – that are becoming
part of the infrastructure of “smart cities”. These initiatives use data-
collection and analytics in support of city planning, infrastructure
maintenance, preemptive policing, and management of urban flows and
mobilities. Leszczynski (2016) cites centralized command-and-control fa-
cilities (that heavily depend on CCTV to function) as one of the examples
of real-time urban big data for managing the here-and-now. Besides that,
those data-driven contemporary technologies work as a safeguard against
social and natural disasters, “subscribing the horizon of possibilities to
exclude potential scenarios deemed undesirable or deleterious” (Lesz-
czynski 2016, 1692).
     Concerns over vigilantism and the real effectiveness of CCTVs in
fighting violence make their use somewhat controversial. In many demo-
cratic nations, civil rights organizations have criticized the proliferation of
surveillance systems, claiming privacy rights violations. The ACLU
(American Civil Liberties Union), for example, argues that cameras 1)
would be susceptible to abuse; 2) are not proven to be effective; 3) would
not be properly controlled; and 4) would have a chilling effect on public
life (ACLU).
     In Latin America, the legal frameworks concerning surveillance are
fragile and lack specific regulation (Firmino et al. 2013). In countries like
Brazil, home to global events like the 2014 FIFA World Cup and the
2016 Olympics, the government, in an effort to prevent terrorism, has ex-
panded the reach of surveillance operations. Kitchin (2014) understands
that effort as related to the current practice of governments using real-
time analytics to manage aspects of how a city functions and is regulated.
He mentions the Centro de Operações da Prefeitura do Rio (COR) as an
example of an attempt to draw all kinds of surveillance and analytics into
a single hub:

(...) the Centro De Operacoes Prefeitura Do Rio in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, a part-
nership between the city government and IBM, have created a citywide instru-
mented system that draws together data streams from thirty agencies, including
Evangelista et al.                                                              131
traffic and public transport, municipal and utility services, emergency services,
weather feeds, and information sent in by employees and the public via phone, in-
ternet and radio, into a single data analytics centre (...). Here, algorithms and a
team of analysts process, visualize, analyze and monitor a vast amount of live ser-
vice data, alongside data aggregated over time and huge volumes of administra-
tion data that are released on a more periodic basis, often mashing the datasets
together to investigate particular aspects of city life and change over time, and to
build predictive models (...). This is complemented by a virtual operations plat-
form that enables city officials to log-in from the field to access real-time infor-
mation. (Kitchin 2014, 6)

    Sadowski and Pasquale (2015) cite COR as the best example of a
smart shock, “wherein a city undergoes a quick, large-scale integration of
‘smart’ ideals, technologies, and policies into an existing landscape”. Ac-
cording to them, the city of Rio was turned into a system for optimization
and securitization, with the amplification of already existing practices of
militaristic urban control.
    An article from the technology magazine “Motherboard” (Kayyali
2016) reports that the process started just before the 2014 World Cup,
spawning “drones, facial recognition goggles that can scan 400 faces a se-
cond and check them against a database of up to 13 million images, and
122 surveillance helicopters, many outfitted with HD surveillance and in-
frared cameras”. This technology has also been used to stifle political pro-
tests, like the demonstrations that questioned the extent of investment in
the 2014 World Cup and in the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janeiro. An ex-
tensive news report from the news agency “Pública” shows how the sur-
veillance equipment bought for those major international events was ex-
pected to be used both against possible terror acts and for fighting urban
violence, and how political protests were treated as a major threat to the
security of tourists and athletes (Viana et al. 2017).
    However, most cameras spread throughout Brazil perform ordinary
functions – they are not solely in the hands of the state for crime preven-
tion, gathering evidence, or legal proceedings. Normally, violence preven-
tion is jumbled in with practices of segregation and social cleansing
(Kanashiro 2008). Cheaper technology and the popularization of surveil-
lance equipment have made it nearly impossible to commute in urban ar-
eas without being filmed. New digital image processing technologies ena-
ble widespread identification procedures, and its uncontrolled use inter-
fere with the management of public areas: police departments are increas-
ingly engaging in preemptive operations, leading to abuse, racial profil-
ing, and gentrification1.

     1
     Vlahos (2012) inform us about the use of “data-rich computer technology”
being used by several police stations across the US to predict crimes. Jouvenal
(2016) reports on Real Time Crime Centers functioning in US cities like Fresno
and Seattle, in which individuals can be scored based on their threat level. After
helping the Seattle Police Department to launch its Real Time Crime Center, the
132                                                              Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

    Cameras are being used to watch employees and customers in shop-
ping malls, bars, and stores for a number of reasons. In public spaces,
they also monitor areas such as streets and sidewalks, mapping – and, in
some cases, preventing – the circulation of determined groups. In both
cases, these groups cannot do anything to prevent their identification and
monitoring. And public squares, where pedestrians are of particular in-
terest to the real estate business, are monitored to exclude ‘undesirable’
groups (Kanashiro 2008; Kanashiro 2006). Put together, such space mon-
itoring hardware and software lead to an automatic production of space
(Thrift and French 2002), with relevant social consequences. As some-
thing written by humans, software (and hardware) challenges us to com-
prehend these new forms of technopolitics and practices of political in-
vention: “politics of standards, classifications, metrics, and readings”
(Thrift and French 2002, 331). The software and hardware designed to
perform functions on space also inherit the bias, preferences and opinions
of those who made them. Leszczynski (2016) also points in that direction
when she states that as the city is subsumed within the data-security as-
semblage, algorithmic governmentality follows the urban realities of ine-
qualities.
    As said before, cameras targeting public areas such as squares, streets,
and sidewalks, are used mostly for two purposes: to control urban vio-
lence and crime; and to manage traffic. In both cases, the installation and
control of surveillance equipment is usually provided by private or public
bodies; but there is a caveat – when it comes to the institutional manage-
ment of surveillance systems, government authorities may also share the
control with private, outsourced agencies (Cardoso 2012)2. In some situa-
tions, these roles and functions may be intertwined, such as when traffic
control cameras record a significant event “by accident”.
    Gated communities, a housing modality that has grown tremendously
in Brazil (currently accounting for nearly 2% of all households; Uchinaka
2011), boast security as one of its major desirable features – a promise
epitomized by the large number of monitoring cameras usually found in
them. In developing countries, the fear of urban violence is one of the
main reasons for the growth of this type of housing, and some form of
complementary “technical fix” (Firmino et al. 2013) is frequently installed
to further secure the physical enclosure of the area. In common areas,
such as elevators, lobbies, and leisure areas, cameras may give rise to abu-
sive actions suffered by residents as well as employees.


private company Via Science was involved in the development of the predictive
features of CrimeRadar, a publicly available crime-forecasting tool based on open-
access that was launched in Rio de Janeiro after the Olympic Games of 2016
(Capps 2016).
    2
      Cardoso (2012) tells us about the involvement of at least three different
companies besides the State Department of Police in the management of Rio de
Janeiro’s Command and Control Center (CCC).
Evangelista et al.                                                        133
    Images are now easily stored and maintained for indefinite periods of
time in databases. They can be sent to be examined in remote places and
easily copied and multiplied. They can also be analyzed by software capa-
ble of identifying characteristics invisible to the human eye. Graham and
Wood (2003) point the social effects of digitized surveillance, stressing
that the current social conditions are the privatization of public spaces
and services, coupled with a notion of citizenship linked to consumerism.
The authors note that “digital surveillance also provides a new range of
management techniques to address the widening fear of crime and the en-
trenchment of entrepreneurial efforts to make (certain parts of) towns
and city spaces more competitive in attracting investors and (selected)
consumers” (Graham and Wood 2003, 234-235).
    There is evidence that the same measures meant to promote human
security can, potentially, also foster feelings of insecurity, vulnerability,
and exposition (Esposti and Santiago-Gomez 2015). Surveillance tech-
nology companies advertise the economic benefits of the use of their
equipment in workplace environments. For example, one company claims
that “business managers can study customers’ shopping habits by study-
ing videos recorded by surveillance systems.3”


2. Visualizing Surveillance

    The tension between power, security, and freedom echoed in the cy-
bercultural debate is longstanding. In the 1960s, in opposition to the in-
stitutions of technocratic control and censorship of the Cold War, social
movements manifested deep concerns for freedom of expression and in-
dividual autonomy. In the United States, these movements would go on
to stimulate communities that promoted social, artistic, and technological
experiments, culminating in the microcomputer revolution and new cul-
tural arrangements (Turner 2006). Influenced by the Free Speech Move-
ment at the University of California, Berkeley in the 1960s, on through to
the hobbyist computer clubs and experimental, autonomous communities
scattered throughout California in the 1970 and 80s, Silicon Valley
emerged as the epicenter of what would become a new, hegemonic
knowledge management model. Through the idea of technological ap-
propriation, the Cold War mainframe was reinvented into the microcom-
puter – and, as so, became part of a new, individual, cognitive apparatus.
From desktops to laptops, and finally to smartphones and the internet of
things, the computer became a device of higher technology, uniquely in-
tegrated to each individual user.
    Castells (1996) claims that the prominence of the Californian techno-

    3
        See https://reolink.com/why-does-your-business-need-video-surveillance
(retrieved June 28, 2016)
134                                                          Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

scientific complex is embedded in a wider, international economic trans-
formation. The delocalization of factories and production, and the emer-
gence of financialization as the core of the western economy, created the
need of an ever-stronger, ever-increasing machinery for the widespread
data-management demanded by a global connected economy. Critics like
Winner (1997), Barbrook and Cameron (1996), and Morozov (2014) ex-
pand on the worldview summarized by Castells, and counter the notion
of a supposed neutrality on the role played by technology – especially
when it comes to political economy and structural changes. These authors
will articulate a critique of Silicon Valley, viewing in its latent technode-
terminism an essentially ideological project – the Californian Ideology.
    This movement, with its nod to the experimental propositions of
technologists influenced by radical theorists such as Jacques Ellul (1964),
Herbert Marcuse (2013[1964]), and Ivan Illich (1973), draws, however,
on a powerful internal antagonism. While increasingly sophisticated indi-
vidual control of technological devices offers possibilities for invention
and disruption of asymmetric power structures, the colossal volume of
data generated by these same devices unearths new monitoring and con-
trolling tools. In the realm of the State or in independent groups, net-
working tools such as IMSI catchers (low-cost interceptors used in cellu-
lar networks), mesh networks, and hardware/software toolkits for remote
monitoring create a scenario that not only increases government control
but also sets in motion actions of dispute and resistance by a number of
civil society groups, promoting a game of perpetual power and counter-
power.
    Bruno (2014) reminds us of the overlap between surveillance culture
(video surveillance and social networks on the Internet) and the “society
of the spectacle”, with links to surveillance, blatantness, and pleasure.
Surveillance cameras mimic the image (sometimes sound) capturing tech-
nologies which are the base of the most popular entertainment products
of the twentieth and the twenty-first century. To observe using them, and
to be observed by tkhem, involves a certain discipline of body and atti-
tude, and are also practices associated with entertainment and expression.
    The same thing that can be said about the relation between play and
management can be said about games and surveillance. Koskela and
Mäkinen (2016) state that surveillance and games are intertwined and
that “examining the game elements of surveillance facilitates a broader
understanding of how this practice moves beyond power and discipline”.
They also try to use the idea of game as a tool to dissect surveillance, of-
fering five different metaphors. In one of them, they argue that surveil-
lance can also be understood as a labyrinth, saying people can playfully
navigate through surveillance spaces, sometimes trying to avoid being
monitored.
    In the relationship between the one who watches and the one who is
being watched, issues such as the visibility or invisibility of surveillance
devices should be discussed. While people and their actions are disci-
Evangelista et al.                                                                135
plined by the presence of surveillance cameras, the lack of public debate
on their use only promotes the unregulated proliferation of the technolo-
gy, increasing the cases of abuse. To study and map cameras can be an ef-
fort of resistance to its power. In a city that becomes aware of itself, “sen-
tient” (because it is loaded up with information and communications
technology), Thrift (2014) says that new technical-artistic interventions
are required if we are not to become simply servants of the security–
entertainment complex. Brighenti (2009) comments on the interplay be-
tween artists questioning the surveillance society and the ideoscape of
surveillance forming a collective imagery about what security, insecurity,
and control are about. He also points out that different kinds of recent art
works can be interpreted as an attempt to deal with visibility regimes
shaped by specific asymmetries.
    Bruno (2014) points out that the “beginning of the dissociation of the
see-and-be-seen principle, associated with the principle of ‘unverifiable-
ness’ of power,” is crucial to the fulfillment of one of the purposes of the
panoptic machine described by Foucault – the automatic functioning of
power:

If you can discern the eye spying on me, then I dominate the surveillance, and I
spy on it also, learning its intermittence and faults, and I can study its regularities
and rid myself of it. If the eye is hidden, it looks at me, even when it’s not seeing
me. (Miller 2000, 78 quoted in Bruno 2014, 60)

    The question arises: given the widespread use of video surveillance
technology in contemporary society, and the broad, global use of portable
devices for personal network-computing, what can we develop to physi-
cally expose many of these surveillance apparatus and information pro-
cessing equipment in order to recognize, as best as possible, not only their
existence but also their potential? On the other hand, what can we do to
denaturalize their presence in urban settings in order to create a discus-
sion on how to socially discipline them? Currently, it is impossible to dis-
sociate digital networks from these devices. Digital images and sounds
roam the networks, forming the raw material of entertainment and media
products. Algorithms analyze the digitized content to recognize patterns,
which are then cross-referenced with other databases.
    Our proposal is a mobile app4 that we are calling DIO: a playable, col-
laborative platform for the mapping of surveillance cameras through
augmented reality and the geomapping of urban areas. The game is de-
signed to be played daily, so that the flow of players (carrying their mo-
bile devices) in monitored areas could be continuously processed and

   4
     The app is in development stage and has financial backing from the Ford
Foundation as part of a larger project named “Rede Latino–Americana de Estu-
dos sobre Vigilância, Tecnologia e Sociedade (Lavits): interseções entre pesquisa,
ação e tecnologia”, which is developed by Lavits (www.lavits.org).
136                                                                Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

turned into playable data. We intend by this to expose and discuss the
presence and use of cameras, emphasizing the centrality of urban flows in
the functioning of surveillance systems.
    In his review of many art or intervention projects dealing with surveil-
lance, Brighenti (2009) cites iSee (2001-2005), a now defunct web-based
application that maps the locations of surveillance cameras in urban envi-
ronments. Our effort is similar, but to achieve a comparable goal we use
playful elements, focusing on the dissemination of mobile phones. Study-
ing location-based social networks as Foursquare, Saker and Evans (2016)
coin the term “playeur” to try to describe an engaged actor that develops
relationships with space and place through intentional playful activities.
To achieve that the playeur, like the “phoneur” (Luke 2006), uses his or
her smartphone to change how the urban space is traversed. In this sense,
DIO is a mobile game that relies on the player experience to engage in a
critical relationship with regimes of visibility.
    In the development process, we opted for narrative elements and
gameplay structures aligned with that of other games that make intensive
use of surveillance tools and personal data processing – games like
Pokemon Go (2016), Watch Dogs (2014) and Ingress (2012). The pur-
pose is twofold: on the one hand, we may offer structures with which
players are already familiar; on the other hand, we will be able to engage
in a critical appropriation of these schemes not for surveillance5 but for
discussion – although as O’Donnell (2014) says, the use of surveillance in
one form or another is inevitable. Ingress (2012), which is also a game
that relies on the mobility of the players, is particularly a case we want to
address. Using gamification mechanisms, the game nudges its players to
catalog historical buildings, street art and tourist landmarks. At the same
time that it promotes “datafication of one’s mobile life in exchange for
the gift of play” (Hulsey and Reeves 2014), it is one of the best examples
of the connection between gamification and big data and algorithmic sur-
veillance. DIO uses a very similar game dynamic to put the surveillance at
the core of the game plot.
    Following Thrift and French (2002) on the discussion of the “auto-
matic production of space”, Graham and Wood (2003) recall the opacity
and ubiquity of these computer systems and their process as a whole, as it
becomes difficult to identify how the shift to automatic, digital and algo-
rithmic surveillance is linked to profound changes in the political econo-
my of urban space management. By giving prominence to these systems
of imagery and informational surveillance, we want to contribute towards
bringing them to the fore.
    More than just plotting an accurate map of the cameras, pointing out
exactly how many and of which type they are, we propose that these de-
vices are turned into elements of an online environment in which players
can interact, while also revealing that these devices actually exist and have

   5
       No data regarding the player’s identity will be stored or commercially used.
Evangelista et al.                                                       137
effects beyond the locations where they are found. We also suggest re-
newed discussions on technological re-appropriation: in the twentieth
century, criticism of bureaucratic control by the military-industrial tech-
nocracy brought up new technologies and their use in the reshaping of
power structures. Today, in the interconnectivity between the digital en-
vironment of the game and the real world, we want to discuss surveillance
cameras and put them into focus.
    To articulate the proposed debate, we offer – as an element to guide
player actions – a background story that contextualizes aspects of the use
and production of technology in contemporary society, such as the sur-
veillance society (Lyon 2001), technology ownership, and political and
economic uses of personal data.
    Van Brakel (2013) suggests the need for a more generous understand-
ing of what “play with surveillance” means. Playing with surveillance, she
says, “can have a transformative effect both on the person playing but al-
so on social and cultural norms”. But she also alerts us to the possible
normalizing effects it could have on how people perceive and give mean-
ing to surveillance. Although we are using surveillance as a theme for the
game and suggesting its daily use, our goal is to produce the exact oppo-
site to a normalizing effect. The objective is to create awareness of the
surveilling processes, in an effort to stimulate democratic questioning.
Thrift and French (2002), when discussing the automatic production of
space, suggest that, in the house of the near future, the operating system
of the computer that runs the house would be as important as the roof.
The cameras that today surveil the major cities of the world are one of its
most important sensors. We want to incorporate the surveillance appa-
ratus of the cities as an element of the game. Hulsey and Reeves (2014)
and Stenros et al. (2011) tell us that many augmented reality games
(ARGs) often incorporate non-players into the gaming experience. The
game DIO is an effort to produce ludic awareness about the location and
the interconnectivity of the informational and surveillance systems that
currently pervade our everyday lives.


3. Storytelling and Development

    Based on the worldwide use of smartphone geolocation tools, the
game proposes primarily what could be understood as a new “layer” of
use. The geocoding platform developed for the game is based on solu-
tions commonly applied in other tools found in mobile devices, so that
the players’ actions, when it comes to input, classification, navigation, and
database processing, are, strictly speaking, similar to the usability found
in apps for restaurants, relationships, or taxis. It is a narrative that en-
courages not only the discussion of surveillance in public areas, but also
the uses and possibilities of technological tools whose presence has be-
138                                                          Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

come “natural” in daily life. It is interesting to remember that the transna-
tional surveillance structures uncovered by Edward Snowden (Greenwald
2014) in the early 21st century are based, in no small part, on the monitor-
ing of personal devices such as laptops and smartphones.
    The development of the narrative, as well as the technical and func-
tional structures of the game, underwent a series of conceptual work-
shops involving the project’s team. Apart from attending communications
symposiums, the project team had conversations with technical experts
and specialists in technology and policy, as well as inquiries into the state
of the art in digital and experimental games conducted by research
groups in Brazil6. From a Brazilian (and, probably, South American)
standpoint, a main challenge in video game research seems to be the de-
velopment of permanent, sustainable projects and interdisciplinary teams.
The convergence of different academic expertise and faculties into devel-
opment projects is in many cases a result of specific, individual interests,
rather than institutional frameworks. Funding and programs devoted to
research on digital games are still somewhat rare, despite a growing inter-
est among the academic community. Even though a considerable part of
the existing research and development may seem incipient and/or rather
inconsistent, there appears to be an ongoing increase in the quality of the
projects, both in their methods as well as in their results. Mapping (and
mastering) these pitfalls has probably been one of the main tests faced by
our team.
    To transition from a concept to a playable platform, the development
team researched the narratives and gameplay featured in games of all
types and generations, as well as aesthetic references in documentation
and products associated with videogames and their role in popular cul-
ture. There were also studies on thematic and dynamic narratives in film
and science fiction literature. Collected data was organized into concep-
tual streams for eventual implementation into the game development by
the project’s tech team.
    The term “cyberpunk” was officially adopted in the workshops. The
decision to use the term has historical context as well: cyberpunks are the
heirs of the cultural propositions of the 1960s and 1970s that culminated
in the reinvention of the computer as a counter-hegemonic, organization-
al tool. Movements that, in their critical discussion of politics and tech-
nology, engaged in lengthy experiments with science fiction as an outlet
for not only literary speculation, but also as a platform for political, tech-
nical and organizational experimentation. As Lee Felsenstein (2013) ex-
plains in his memories, the countercultural experimentation that led to
the “hobbyist culture” and the “garage microcomputer” was heavily in-
fluenced by the ideas, groups and networks built around the science fic-

   6
     See the Congresso Brasileiro de Informática na Educação e Conferência La-
tino-Americana de Objetos e Tecnologias de Aprendizagem (2015) http://-
www.br-ie.org/pub/index.php/teste/issue/view/135 (retrieved March 30, 2016).
Evangelista et al.                                                              139
tion     scene7
            of the 60s and 70s (Rossman 1972).
    The visual patterns that were created for DIO resemble the science
fiction of the late 1970s and 1980s. You can find below a screenshot of
one of the first screens of the game, right after a player logs in. The game
is a web-based application, so it works both on desktop computers and
mobile phones. The following screen was taken from a desktop computer
browser. You can see a button on the left of the screen to add a new
mapped camera, and a small window with some player information.




 Figure 1 – Screenshot of the game from a desktop computer. The small blue dot
    represents the player’s location. The blue line is the player’s area of action.


4. Argument and Dynamics

    The game seeks to trigger traditional role-playing gaming, unhinged
and mediated by users and their collaborative groups. The development
of the narrative and personal story of each player in the game plot is per-
formed by managing the georeferencing platform and its data, without
the use of guided navigational elements or ‘closed off, on rails’ playing
levels. It is a Massively Multiplayer Online Game (MMOG) and also a
pervasive game (also known as hybrid games, location-based games, and
mobile games). Stenros et al. (2011) note that pervasive games are not
played necessarily on computer screens (although they might use them)

     7
      Ballard (1962), in the final decades of the twentieth century, summed up
what came to be the New Wave of Science Fiction and its interface between
counterculture and sci-fi: “The biggest developments of the immediate future will
take place, not on the Moon or Mars, but on Earth, and it is inner space, not out-
er, that needs to be explored. The only truly alien planet is Earth”.
140                                                           Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

or in predefined spaces or set times. Kerr et al. (2014) identified five ele-
ments that are part of the system of governance in MMOG (game code
and rules; game policies; company community management practices;
player participatory practices; and paratexts). They conceptualize these
governance elements functioning as a “surveillant assemblage” (Haggerty
and Ericson 2000). The assemblage Kerr et al. (2014, 333) typify and ana-
lyze “demonstrate that game governance by companies responds to, and
shapes the behaviour of players but is often in flux, shifting and adjust-
ing”. One major challenge for the governance of DIO is to promote this
flux according with the game goals.
     At this phase of DIO’s development we are focusing on the definition
of the game’s code and rules, as well as on its paratexts. The basic rules
and game dynamics are mostly defined, although it should be modified
according to feedback from gamers. Paratexts will be an important ele-
ment to address the main social issues the game intends to thematize: the
widespread deployment of surveillance cameras in urban areas; the grow-
ing digital management of urban spaces; and the economic use of person-
al data. Game policies should emphasize that DIO 1) is not a commercial
project; 2) respects the privacy of its users by collecting only data essential
for the game’s proper functioning; and 3) is a free and open source pro-
ject. The game should be freely available for iOS, Android and Windows
phones, as it has been developed as a Progressive Web App (PWA).
PWAs are regular web pages that can appear to the user like traditional
applications, trying to combine features offered by browsers with the
benefits of mobile experience.
     Other elements should be dealt with before an alpha version is availa-
ble. DIO is a game about a surveillant assemblage – the interconnection
of CCTV, speed radars, computers, mobile phones etc. – which as an
MMOG will require the use of other surveillant assemblages for its gov-
ernance.
     The proposed scenario is the ‘very near future’ – a reality in which ar-
tificial intelligence is used by governments as a tool for social control. To
develop the story, we studied with special attention popular games such
as Watchdogs, in which a supercomputer (a ctOS - Central Operating
System) that connects everyone and everything – personal information,
traffic lights, mobile phones, and security cameras – is implemented in
Chicago, Illinois, after a hacker attack.
     In our plot, governments and companies, to combat opposition, em-
ploy surveillance technologies that scan physical spaces and monitor digi-
tal networks. To improve this system, a multinational public-private part-
nership project is launched to create a technological standard. This pro-
tocol, developed with the objective of integrating public surveillance de-
vices around the planet, is called Digital Information Operative (DIO). It
is an effort to create an intelligent technical protocol that integrates cam-
eras and forms a system in which all units are accessible remotely. Quietly
test-launched, the project receives the collaboration of many companies
Evangelista et al.                                                          141
and technicians, who vindicate for globalized efforts for transparency and
scorn upon alerts and claims of human rights violations. Shortly thereaf-
ter, the initiative is terminated, also quietly, and the project never official-
ly goes into operation.
    It would, however, all prove to be a farce. Once testing starts, the arti-
ficial intelligence that would integrate devices around the world becomes
uncontrollable. With all cameras consolidated, it becomes impossible to
cut them off from the network for a long period of time, being that DIO
reestablishes lost connections. The project was discontinued and the au-
tonomous existence of DIO was never publicly admitted for fear of nega-
tive backlash. And now, as a result, every camera in the world is subject
to the control of DIO.
    Every footage and image provided by the cameras is now online,
available in a ‘deep web’ of sorts, and is accessed by political, economic,
and technological operational groups. It is impossible to turn them off ef-
fectively. Governments and corporations can finally watch over and track
everything. It is the end of privacy. DIO now fully displays and broad-
casts society’s weaker bodies, while members of power remain concealed
and blanketed. Footage revealed in the network continues to be wielded
by governments. After an effective disinformation campaign, the mere ex-
istence of DIO is seen as just a rumor, a ghost story.
    For the overall public, DIO is just a conspiracy theory. However, for
resistance groups, it is reality. Naturally, the resistance split into two dis-
tinct groups, with two different philosophies. The Blind group believes
that the best action to take is to blind all cameras, because image captur-
ing technology in itself is detrimental. The Lens group believes that the
best way is to restore autonomy to the cameras, as well as to their original
owners – if the devices are finally dissociated from DIO, their original
owners (the companies) would make good use of them. Both groups ap-
ply these different outlooks not to fight against each other, but to battle
DIO. Nevertheless, DIO ends up regenerating itself and reactivating and
reincorporating the cameras to its network. The groups continue their
fight in search of a permanent solution.
    The game dynamics are inspired by controversial commercial games
like Ingress and Pokemon Go. Hulsey and Reeves (2014) highlight that
Ingress is an emerging form of digital economic exchange, which requires
the datafication of the player’s mobility and communicative actions. In
exchange, the game offers privilege of access to its platform. At the same
time, the authors note the standardization of surveillance and data mining
contained in games such as Ingress. Unlike these commercial applica-
tions, we intend to use data mining not as a commercial viability item of
our platform, but as a thematic element of the game. The same is true for
camera surveillance and the integration of imaging data, which are ex-
ploited by their exposure and estrangement, not by their normalization.
    Players and groups interact with the game and its proposed back-
ground story by inputting data ‘inside the game’ (among profiles of regis-
142                                                        Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

tered players) and ‘outside the game’ (among players and cameras soon to
be mapped and inserted as playable elements). Mobile devices, from
which the game are run, are also adapted and redimensioned. In the game
plot, the DIO app is presented as a fictional hack, offering players a new
way to control their smartphones. By ‘shielding’ DIO surveillance proto-
cols and giving smartphone owners the power to act and resist in the
global technology grid, smartphones become, in the DIO universe, tech-
nological re-appropriation devices and a political statement.
    For players of both resistance groups, actions comprise a) registering
and geolocating surveillance cameras scattered in public areas; b) fighting
for ‘ownership’ of each of the logged cameras. To register and geolocate
the camera, the player must approach the device with their mobile phone
GPS activated and snap a picture, and, optionally, log in information as
to where the camera is pointed (to a public or private area, for example)
and its model.




Figure 2 – Two cameras mapped by us-   Figure 3 – Picture of mapped camera
ers.                                   inserted by user.


    To compete for the possession of the cameras, the player must have
his/her GPS function activated and be within a radius of 50 meters of the
Evangelista et al.                                                       143
geolocated object, and then interact with it. Each interaction, which may
be performed in predefined time intervals, increases your radius of con-
trol over the camera. For example, if the camera is under the control of
the Lens group and a player from the Blind group goes through this area,
Lens will lose points, and vice-versa.
    The interaction, or the hacking of a camera by a team cancels the op-
posing team’s interaction. Cameras/objects have a pre-set maximum radi-
us perimeter that allows for interaction.
    Game functions are still in development, and new implementations,
adjustments, and tools are being studied.
    The next two screenshots were taken using a mobile phone. Fig. 2
shows two mapped cameras: the closer to the street was hacked by a play-
er and is in possession of his team. Fig. 3 shows a picture of the hacked
camera, the time lapsed since the last hack and some information about
the camera (a picture, the number of cameras, and if it is a directed to-
wards a public or private area). Both also show some information about
the player: his or her username, the number of points at that moment.
The symbol right next to the user name shows that the player belongs to
the Blind group.


5. Commercial Use of Personal Data

     DIO is a MMOG. Each player has a username and accumulates
points. Points permit the acquisition of new playable items that increase
player potential, contributing to the wellbeing of the group.
     When analyzing MMOGs, Kerr at al. (2014, 321) remember that “the
client-server architecture generates huge amounts of data flows and rich
databases of player and game behaviour. Game companies use this data
to survey player activities, tweak the game design, and monetise the
game”. Our goal is to expose this kind of data collection, allowing for
players explore their own data. For example, each user would be allowed
to view the paths they took, on which days and times, and with which
cameras they interacted. We must consider that this information may also
be stored by other apps.
     This functionality allows us to address the commercial use of personal
data gathered through surveillance. In the same way we took into consid-
eration the visibility of video surveillance devices in the game’s context,
we also intend to reveal how data gathering techniques are central to the
operation of the game.
     Commercial use of personal data on the Internet is constituted, just as
surveillance cameras, as a controversial social issue that has been the sub-
ject of legislative proposals. It involves citizens (Internet service users);
companies providing these services (that use data as raw material for in-
telligence analysis with commercial purposes); and governments (which
use collected data to provide public services, political repression, and se-
144                                                                 Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

curity practices).
     It is estimated that by 2020, the market for ‘digital identities’ in Eu-
rope will sum up annual profits of up to 1 trillion euros (Boston Consult-
ing Group 2012). Companies have made significant efforts to distance
themselves from negative perceptions linked to governments and political
surveillance. They intend to position themselves as having less power over
citizens than our governments. They argue that, given freedom of compe-
tition, citizens are free to choose alternative services and that legislation’s
only function is to curb misuse and any eventual personal data leaks (Ash-
ton-Hart 2014).
     It can be argued, however, that migrating to other social network ser-
vices is not that simple. “It’s difficult for you to leave if all of your friends
are members of a particular service, even if you don’t agree with privacy
settings changes,” states Peter Schaar, Chairman of the European Acad-
emy for Freedom of Information and Data Protection (Schaar 2014). An-
other issue to consider are the astronomical profits projected by the in-
formation industry. Control and storage of personal data, which has been
called the ‘new petroleum’, is a significant economic force that affects the
global economy and, consequently, social relations. More than ever, in-
formation is power, as discussed by Ceglowski (2016):

In our attempt to feed the world to software, techies have built the greatest sur-
veillance apparatus the world has ever seen. Unlike earlier efforts, this one is fully
mechanized and in a large sense autonomous. Its power is latent, lying in the vast
amounts of permanently stored personal data about entire populations.
     We started out collecting this information by accident, as part of our project
to automate everything, but soon realized that it had economic value. We could
use it to make the process self-funding. And so mechanized surveillance has be-
come the economic basis of the modern tech industry.

    It is a difficult task to discuss and convince the public that their per-
sonal data has commercial value. Zuboff (2015) describes broadly the
phenomenon and its logic of accumulation, calling it “surveillance capital-
ism”. From the individual’s perspective, data seems to be very trivial in-
formation. True concern only emerges with regards to sensitive data, such
as bank account information, which can be stolen by criminals with the
intent of illegally transferring funds (Firmino et al. 2011). Through its
gameplay, DIO demonstrates what data can actually reveal about indi-
viduals, even if anonymously. More importantly, the game can show how
personal data has become a tradable good. Accumulated data from other
users means exponential profit growth. On the other hand, providing this
information to others means losing power.
    In a later stage of app development, new features that relate to this
aspect may be implemented. One possibility is to create a system in which
players exchange sets of information for game points (anonymously add-
ed according to playing time). The market for such exchanges wouldn’t
Evangelista et al.                                                      145
be ‘official’, but game administrators would minimally regulate the nature
of the exchanges.
    Reward points would follow a nonlinear, exponential progression,
thus emphasizing the value of being in possession of such vast databases.
Similarly, gameplay for users with few points could be difficult, thus sig-
naling that those who have amassed more information and more points
have greater power and convenience.
    These new features would be developed based on the actual charac-
teristics of the personal data market. Therefore, by using the narrative
features of the game, we would create a tool to discuss privacy and per-
sonal data.


6. Conclusions

    There are several elements developed for the game that relate to cur-
rent issues involving privacy, security, and power, such as the uncon-
trolled dissemination not only of cameras but of sensors capable of cap-
turing information, as well as the indiscriminate data exchange between
state agencies and private corporations. Even the differences established
between the game’s resistance groups – those that advocate for social con-
trol over technology, and those calling for radical disruption – echoes
those of contemporary ideological currents.
    The game story is still open. New elements may be added, along with
new playable tools. Mobile phones have become powerful sensors that
produce and transmit data continuously. This data is commercially used
by technology companies (Evangelista 2016). We also intend to develop
elements and playable items that portray this fact.
    This project, in its complexity, from the development of the backstory
and the coding of the game to the analysis of how the players are using
the game, can be classified as a kind of sociological experiment. We are a
group of independent academic researchers in the periphery of the info-
industrial world. Using trends of the current game industry that empha-
size different modes of surveillance seen in commercial games like Ingress
(Hulsey and Reeves 2014, 389) and Pokemon Go, can we produce a game
that challenges the surveillance culture? Canossa (2014) tells us about the
growing trend among players towards unconditional acceptance of behav-
ior tracking in digital games, and discusses the balance between the mon-
etization of data generated by use and its compensation in different
forms. How can we thematize surveillance capitalism (Zuboff 2015) and
how will the players respond to that?
    The game should be promoted initially in Latin America, in countries
where there is a history of violation of human rights and where the insti-
tutions created to protect civil rights are recent and fragile. How will me-
dia, government and the public react to our effort to expose the location
of public cameras? Are we going to be successful in our goal to increase
146                                                              Tecnoscienza – 8 (2)

awareness about the surveillance structures of cities?
     Besides that, there is also the amount of data that should be generated
by the players. Could it be an opportunity to promote awareness about
surveillance capitalism? How should we deal with that data? How much
of it will we have to use to manage the gameplay? How should the con-
sent policy to be established with the players be negotiated? How can we
involve them in elaborating the terms of their consent? Kerr et al. (2014)
show us that surveillant assemblages and governance, in flux, respond to
and shape the behavior of players in MMOGs. Stenros at al. (2012) warn
us about the challenges of studying pervasive games that blur the bound-
aries between play and everyday life. Not only are game data in a con-
trolled environment involved, but also the cultural context and the daily
life of players. In our case there is also the context of surveillance culture.
We are only in the first moment.


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