Dorsality: Thinking Back Through Technology and Politics Book

Late last year, Douglas Estes, New Testament professor at Western Seminary, posted at a few well-known blogs some thoughts from his upcoming book about virtual or online churches'SimChurch. His arguments there weren't well developed or supported, but he attributed that to the blog format, which is a plausible defense.

At the time I was eager to read his full treatment on the subject, but didn't have the chance. I was recently able to borrow a copy and sat down with it. The result has been one of the most frustrating reading experiences of my life. He redefines many terms and concepts in an unconvincing attempt at persuading the evangelical mainstream that these virtual churches need not be associated with physical institutions; online meeting'tele-presence'is just as "real" as physical presence.

One of the arguments that was so unsuccessful in one of his blog posts was that "virtual" doesn't mean fake:

"An even greater concern is the proliferation of a related myth: The myth of the 'virtual' church. As a result several of the churches who have launched virtual campuses are telling their pastors and people, 'Don't use the word 'virtual,' because people think it means fake.' For the record, virtual doesn't mean fake, it means synthetic."

"For the record," virtual means "being actually such in almost every respect; existing in essence or effect though not in actual fact." The argument is also present in the book, and its validity is assumed throughout, which makes for some entertaining sentences: "Even though virtual worlds differ in significant ways…in their essence and nature [they:] are just as real as the real world."

He also asks for a level of trust in his authority that he doesn't work for in the first portion of the book. He's constantly expecting us to rely on his testimony, with no supporting argument: "A few people may try to argue that the virtual world is not real, but I was there, they were't, and I'm telling you it was real in my experience…"

These and many other reasons (far too many for the 80 pages I read) made this a thoroughly unenjoyable read. What was the straw that broke the camel's back? In a discussion of avatars - our projected identity in the virtual world - he gives an awkward introduction to his own Second Life avatar. He admits that avatars aren't always representative of the person playing, but this doesn't concern him (except for those that cross genders). He talks about wearing his "pastor cap", and says that playing the pastor when speaking to parishioners is the same as an avatar. Not really parallel, but close. The last sentence I read was this:

"Let's face it, one of the Christians' biggest dilemmas with becoming an avatar is that the word avatar originates from a non-Christian religion."

It's simply not true. I don't know if he addresses the other major problem (you never know who's behind the avatar, which is not exactly the same as those who "play church" on Sundays) because I stopped right there. I decided that I wouldn't spend anymore time on something with such a lack of seriousness.