people, among them Eggers’ protagonist, are able to identify the action-reaction schema of power: Mae “left her hand resting across [Francis’] lap. [His pulse] quickly rose to 134. She thrilled at her power, the proof of it, right before her and measurable. He was at 136” (TC 203, my emphasis). Mae is excited about her influence on Francis, her co-worker and love affair, since one move of her hand causes an observable effect (pulse rate to 136), granting her satisfaction and a feeling of superiority. Modern technology and its gadgets, in this case, a heart rate tracker, display ‘proof’ of her effectiveness, bolstering Mae’s self-esteem.
While Mae might find one-dimensional power a thrilling ingredient of a satisfactory sex life, The Circle demonstrates the extent to which people have learnt to mistrust direct forms of power on a political level since WWII, most notably in the form of authoritarian rule. In theory, Mae and her fellow Circlers can be seen as enlightened individuals, wary of totalitarian structures and concomitant power apparatuses, and are eager to challenge juridico-political abuses of power in the form of anti-democratic and oppressive regimes, such as the reign of terror exercised by a paramilitary group in Guatemala. Initiating an online campaign, the Circlers are passionately engaged in political activism:
There was a paramilitary group in Guatemala, some resurrection of the terrorizing forces of the eighties, and they had been attacking villages and taking women captive. One woman, Ana María Herrera, had escaped and told of ritual rapes, of teenage girls being made concubines, and the murders of those who would not cooperate. Mae’s friend Tania, never an activist in school, said she had been compelled to action by these atrocities […]. (TC 244)
Although “never an activist in school” and decidedly abstinent from political activism, Tania feels “compelled to action” by the clear abuse of juridico-political power. She thus stands pars pro toto for those raised in the belief of the importance of democratic institutions, having learnt the lesson of the 20th century and the totalitarian regimes in parts of Europe and Russia. Compelled to do something and with the opportunities arising from advanced information and communication technology, the Circlers promote an online campaign that sends messages of support to Ana María and, “[j]ust as important, [sends] a message to the paramilitaries that we denounce their actions” (ibid., emphasis in the original). Doubts regarding the effectiveness of this method aside (readers might justifiably question the relevance of this online petition, since the novel makes it blatantly obvious that the Circlers’ ‘political activism’ translates directly into a painfully irrelevant, naïve idealism the characters in the novel nevertheless seemingly exhibit a strong tie to democracy and egalitarian ideals.
While the characters are intellectually equipped to identify abusive forms of juridico-political forms of power, which take the form of (sexual) abuse, oppression and torture, they are nevertheless unable to correctly assess equally destructive, yet less obvious forms of coercion and power. They fail substantially to identify network structures of power, which ‘force’ the individuals to make free, albeit involuntary choices. Since network power and its standards are more difficult to identify because the decisions resulting in or from network power appear to be free decisions by mature and responsible individuals (cf. Bernard), The Circle constitutes an exercise in reading this form of power, enabling its readers to broaden their perspective and to differentiate between modes of power dissimilar in method, yet similar in effect: to restrain voluntariness. By demonstrating that the promises of neoliberalism regarding freedom and their reality are mutually exclusive, the novel criticises the former immanently, relying on the depiction of coercive power structures.
Eggers’ novel makes the differences in conceptions of power explicit, requiring its readers to distance themselves from the characters’ inability to see through the mechanisms of network power that dominate the narrative. A case in point that illustrates how standards can compromise the options for actions of individuals is evident in the following paragraph. Having pushed the game-changing SeeChange cameras on to the market, which enable a 24/7 wireless livestream, the Circle alters the code of conduct for politicians. Originally intended as life style gadgets to facilitate monitoring of the roads for the daily commute to work, the weather at a favourite beach, or unsuspecting elderly parents (cf. TC 64f.) – and this is the first example of the novel alluding to the possible abuses connected to superior technology – the mini-cameras become constitutive of democracy once one politician decides to wear one 24/7. Congresswoman Santos explains, “I intend to show how democracy can and should be: entirely open, entirely transparent. Starting today, I will be wearing the [camera]. My every meeting, movement, my every word, will be available to all my constituents and to the world” (ibid. 210). Harvesting the full marketing potential, the Circle effectively leverages Santos’ ‘going transparent’ into a big media event. In her role as a politician and thus dependent on media attention, Santos happily complies by helping to promote the product: “a technician emerged from the wings and hung a necklace around Santos’s head […]. Santos held the lens to her lips and kissed it. The audience cheered” (ibid.). Eggers’ novel not only satirises real-world product releases, anticipating and imitating, for instance, Apple, Facebook, or Google and their general assemblies, but also showcases the unhealthy opportunistic tendencies of modern politics, criticising politicians for becoming brand ambassadors blending economics and politics.
Santos’ marketing coup allows readers to witness the birth and growth of a new standard, which will soon dominate both the theory and practice of politics (cf. TC 239f.). Initially, Santos is something of a curiosity and attracts mild media interest, but not “the kind of explosion anyone at the Circle had hoped for.” Yet over time, the full impact of her decisions materialises in the form of viewer numbers: “as people logged on and began watching [they realised] that she was deadly serious” (240). Enabling constant observation – her constituents can watch her every move and hear her every word – Santos thus spearheads a somewhat twisted ideal of democracy that relies on absolute transparency. Viewers are invited not only into her professional but also into her private life, which gives them the impression that Santos constitutes an exception to the moral corruption, opacity, and nepotism commonly associated with Washington.1 Meanwhile, her fame and approval ratings soar, as she gains voters’ support. Of course, this development catches the attention of her rivals, other politicians eager to boost their popularity. Subsequently, a continuous stream of elected representatives – irrespective of party membership, it seems, for the Circle never goes into details about their political points of view – follow Santos’ example and decide (initially) voluntarily to adopt the same measures, hoping for the same advantages and benefits in form of votes:
By the third week, twenty-one other elected leaders in the U.S. had asked the Circle for their help in going clear. There was a mayor in Sarasota. A senator from Hawaii, and, not surprisingly, both senators from California. The entire city council of San Jose. The city manager of Independence, Kansas. And each time one of them made the commitment, the Wise Men zinged about it, and there was a hastily arranged press conference, showing the actual moment when their days went transparent. (ibid. 240)
Turning Santos’ commitment to go transparent into a big media event, the Circle ensures that these procedures receive the necessary attention from the press and the general public. More demand, of course, equals more profit: “[p]roduction on the cameras, which were as yet unavailable to consumers, went into overdrive. The manufacturing plant, in China’s Guangdong province, added shifts and began construction on a second factory to quadruple their capacity” (ibid. 240f.). Moreover, the fact that a growing number of politicians from other states follow suit, from Hawaii and Kansas (ironically, the city is named ‘Independence’) and not only the technology-devoted California, shows how fast a standard can travel. Like concentric circles spreading from the epicentre in California, the new standard progresses through the States and beyond: “[b]y the end of the first month, there were thousands of requests from all over the world” (ibid. 240). What originally began as an extravagant PR campaign by one politician steadily develops into an expected code of conduct, a standard all politicians are expected to comply with. And the number of those wanting to join the network continues to grow. As the text elaborates, “[b]y the end of the fifth week, there were 16,188 elected officials, from Lincoln to Lahore, who had gone completely clear, and the waiting list was growing” (ibid. 241). In the