I watched the Love Is Blind Season 6 finale, entitled “The Reunion,” just recently. It is my partner who likes the show, so I end up watching it for her; I would not ever watch this show myself if not for her. Writing that opening, I realize just how important my partner is in my life, and in my evolution as a person and a philosopher. Engaging with things I am not interested in, or even do not like, certainly plays an important role in helping me to gain a more holistic and complete view of the world.

In the case of this very specific episode of the show, I realized a number of things about my views on avatars and of simulation theory. I have spoken in previous posts about the separation between persons and their representations in simulation. As a very common example, of a player and their character in a video game. I think this distinction is critically important. That the player needs to always be aware that they are merely the player, and not the character within the simulation. And perhaps even more importantly, that the character’s experience is not the player’s experience. But this episode has thrown several monkey wrenches into my understanding.

One of the characters was being criticized by the shows host for going on record saying, “This is reality television. It is meant to entertain you, and I think that’s exactly what we’re doing. We didn’t miss with this one, baby. We didn’t miss!” This is very, very interesting to me. A reality show actor (and they are actors, just to be clear), goes on record publicly admitting that the purpose of reality television is to entertain. And if that isn’t enough, the show’s host then goes on record saying, “So, be very, very clear about this right now, was this all just for entertainment?” The conversation continues with the actor being placed on the defensive, being pushed to answer a false dilemma regarding the authenticity of the show.

I think it is going to take a bit of explaining to distill out what I think about hearing this. How I get from those statements to the conclusion that people are confusing their avatars for themselves. But that is precisely what this post is all about today.

In thinking much more about the particulars in this situation, I am going to try to explain what I think is going on and what I think the problem is. Firstly, there are individuals or persons who exist in what we might suggest is our main reality. This is me sitting in my chair typing out this post. I am a real, flesh and blood person existing in a physical universe. I need to eat and drink and breath to subsist. I am constrained by many, many limitations that are exceedingly difficult to overcome, such as gravity and air pressure. There is so much to say about this embodiment that I possess, but what I want to make clear is that this is the world that I think most people would agree is the main or true reality we all exist in. At least, as far as we can tell (this is a monkey wrench I can never seem to shake, so bear with me).

Then there are our avatars, who exist in some other reality. We all have many avatars, as many as all the simulations we interact with at any time. As the most basic example, when I play a board game, the playing piece I select becomes my avatar within the game. If I play a video game, my video game character becomes my avatar. And if I set up a social media account, the profile becomes my avatar. In any situation where I engage with some sort of simulation, I will have some sort of avatar that represents me within that simulation. The only exception I can think of is that perhaps I watch the simulation from the outside, like when I watch a sporting event on my television. But then I realize that in that situation, my avatar is akin to God within the simulation, looking down from above. A sort of “objective observer” of the simulation. And thus, there is still an avatar.

In all these cases, to be perfectly clear, I am suggesting that I am never my avatar. Not directly. I have a connection with my avatar, most often in that I control my avatar’s actions. In the case of a board game or video game, this may seem obvious. I might roll the dice to move my playing piece around the board of the board game. Or I might use my joystick to control the movements of my character in the video game. I, as the individual, exert an influence on my avatar in some way to make them behave in their reality.

In the case of the “objective observer,” I again exert an influence, not so much in the behavior, but more in the sorts of things the avatar will observe. I can change my viewpoint to look in different directions, or observe the simulation in different ways. As the “objective observer” is in a privileged position, my influence takes on a more abstract connection to my avatar.

But in the end, in all cases, there is still this distinction between who I am, as an individual, and who my avatar is, within the simulation. And more than just this distinction, it seems to me that there is a particular direction of the flow of things. As individual, my influence extends toward my avatar, not the other way around. The avatar does not make decisions for me, or influence how I behave.

Except that perhaps I’ve been mistaken in this regard. What if my avatar does exert some influence in the reverse direction? What if my avatar influences how I behave and act?

I have often suggested social media is a huge problem. A large reason I make this claim is that I suggest sometimes people confuse their avatars for themselves. Whereas in most video games, once the game is paused or ended, most people will understand that their character was just an avatar and not themselves. I am no longer Link, roaming the realm of Hyrule; in fact, I never truly was. I was always just myself in this world, and I was just “controlling” Link in that game. But what if I thought I was still Link, even when the game was over?

In social media, one creates a profile. That profile is often meant to represent themselves as accurately as possible. Same name. Same statistics. Same features. Same appearance. In fact, if a person purposefully does not do their very best to maintain this high level of correlation between individual and avatar, they are said to be a “catfish.” Being a “catfish” is considered a very unethical and taboo thing, and will often lead to such punishments as ostracization. Of course, this doesn’t appear to be uniform across all simulations; there are some simulations where “catfishing” is embraced and even encouraged. But then, the simulation is treated a bit more like a video game at that point, where the individuals have a much easier time recognizing that there is the distinction between their person and their avatar.

Thus, in general, in social media, it is encouraged to maintain an extremely high level of correlation between one’s avatar and one’s self. If something significant changes to an individual in the “real world,” they are expected to reflect that change in their avatar. If my relationship status changes in the real world, I am expect to update my relationship status within my online profile, for example. But what if something happens to my avatar within the social media; does this suggest that I need to update my person to reflect the change to my avatar?

In thinking about this at length, perhaps my earlier thoughts on individuals and avatars was too hasty. Because when I play an incredibly immersive video game, I do start to experience some of what my avatar experiences. I get excited and scared just as my avatar might. Clearly this is that reverse flow I was just speaking about, where my avatar is exerting an influence on my person. I never really considered this much before, but this is also part of the allure of playing these sorts of video games as well. To feel something I might not normally feel otherwise. To experience something I might not experience otherwise.

And so, in the case of social media, maybe the reverse flow ought to be expected. That if something happens to my avatar online, it will influence my person in this reality. Perhaps even to the point of changing me. My online existence manifesting into my real world existence. Perhaps my connection with my avatar can be far more comprehensive than I originally thought.

Returning to this episode of Love is Blind, and the comments by the actor about how the show is merely for entertainment. Firstly, I would like to acknowledge that the actor did NOT say “merely.” It may possibly have been implied, which clearly is why the host criticized the actor. But the quote really only suggests that the purpose of reality television is to entertain, and that she believes it has been successful in this regard. Reality television can be both entertaining and real, in some sense. The possibility exists. Whether it is both simultaneously is another discussion altogether.

However, as the host criticizes her, that is clearly the perspective of the host. Or perhaps I might suggest, the host interpreted the actor’s statements as suggesting it was either one or the other, but not both. The host is committing a false dilemma, suggesting the actor could not mean both simultaneously. And the actor, clearly not trained in the art of debate, was led down a very entertaining path for the audience’s amusement.

And this, ultimately, is the most interesting thing for me. Because the host is pressing against the actor regarding things she said publicly regarding something that I believe the host likely DOES understand. That is, the episode of this show is, well, just a show. It is a reality television show that really is made for my entertainment. The actor is clearly correct. I am watching a show. I am in the privileged position. And the show is a simulation of my reality. These actors are avatars. I do not know these people in their real lives. Just like I only know “The Rock” and not Dwayne Johnson. To be perfectly clear here, Dwayne Johnson is an individual, and “The Rock” is his avatar (his character on various television shows and online).

So, this is a case of extreme layering. Of inception, to use the popular understand of this term, coming from the film that came out in 2010. The host is a character on a television show, just as the actor is playing one as well. And the host is also in a bit of a privileged position, because the real person associated with the host is also in part generating the narrative of this show. The person behind the host is (in part) creating this show. So the person, who is controlling the character of the host, knows full well that the actor is in fact correct regarding their statements.

Taking this further, I would argue that the host not only knows that the actor is correct, but that the host cannot admit this publicly. The host MUST maintain the illusion of the show being actually real in order to maintain the credibility of the show and its viewership. To maintain the support of its investors and stakeholders. The host NEEDS to criticize the actor for “breaking the 4th wall.”

This is precisely the issue I have with virtually all reality television and with social media. The nature of these simulations is that they are supposed to be “real.” They are simulations that pretend not to be simulations. To know that the simulation is a simulation is to destroy the “magic” of the simulation entirely. The audience needs to believe that these things are fully real and authentic for them to gain the proper amount of immersion. And unfortunately, just as Jean Baudrillard seemed to fear most, the “precession of simulacra” has already occurred.