From Online to Offline (2002.12)

From Online to Offline: The Emergence of a New Urban Community In the Age of Information Technology

(Un) Bounding Tradition: The Tensions of Borders and Regions, 8th Conference of the International Association for the Study of Traditional Environments, Hong Kong, 2002.12, pp.11-12.

KIM, Sung Hong

Abstract: While Seoul is one of the densest urban areas on the planet, the percentage of  Internet users in Korea is one of the highest in the world. These two contrasting features represent the urban culture of Seoul today. In 2001, more than 50 percent of Internet users in Korea used online communication to arrange offline activities. What are the characteristics of the places for offline gatherings and events? How are they related to hyper-dense urban conditions? Using the specific case study of the Internet soccer supporters’ club and the street campaign during the 2002 World Cup, this paper will examine the spatial dimension of online and offline community and discuss the relationship between information technology, hyper-density and urban place.

Internet and Hyper-Density

Urban culture is experiencing an unprecedented rate of change due to the digital revolution brought on by computers and specifically the Internet. The Internet has enabled consumers to choose from a variety of devices to access information anywhere at any time. The growth of online shopping has caused a transformation and redistribution of retail spaces in the city. The Internet has also created various types of online communities that overcome territorial boundaries. However, the rapid growth of Internet communication does not seem to have replaced the traditional notion of face-to-face contact. When many info-tech ventures fell after the bursting of the dot-coms a few years ago, it was recognized that e-business does not solely depend on online strength, but requires a combination of online and offline resources. Offline efforts are needed to bring attention to online products, and conversely online communications often lead to offline activities and events. Is there any relationship between the nature of online community networks and their perception and use of urban space? Would spatial boundaries and distinctions in the urban space disappear in the new communication era? These questions seem especially poignant in the hyper-dense urban environment where face-to-face contact is an essential part of everyday life.

Seoul is one of the densest urban areas in the world. Approximately one fourth of the total population of South Korea, over ten million people, live in the metropolitan area of Seoul today. The density of Seoul is higher than that of neighboring Asian cities, more than three times the density of Tokyo, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Singapore (Table 1). The densities of high-rise apartment blocks in Seoul almost reach 1,900 inhabitants per hectare. This is in sharp contrast with a typical American suburb, which is about 40 inhabitants per hectare. Meanwhile, the ratio of Internet users in Korea relative to population is one of the highest in the world. During the 1990s, Korea implemented a plan to deploy broadband networks nationwide. The government investment encouraged private sector investment that is essential for the establishment of an advanced information infrastructure. Data shows that 51.5 percent of the total population of South Korea, or 24.38 million people, are Internet users, representing the world’s largest penetration rate as of May 2002. In addition, more than 8.6 million households, 60 percent of the total number of South Korean households, are subscribing to broadband Internet services of 1 megabit per second or higher. This figure will reach 10 million towards the end of 2002. By 2005, the Korean government plans to offer a broadband Internet network, which can deliver data up to 20 megabit per second, and wireless high-speed Internet service into households and the workplace. Koreans are also second in online shopping with about 31 percent of South Korean Internet users now shopping online in May 2002, one percentage point behind leaders U.S. The number of mobile phone users has also skyrocketed to more than 30 million, surpassing that of fixed-line subscribers, set at 22.95 million, as of end-March 2002. 1

The combination of explosive Internet and mobile phone usage and hyper-dense conditions seems to create a unique socio-cultural environment. Internet users, so called “netizens,” enjoy activities via online communities, cyber cafes, or chat rooms in portals and game sites that often turn into offline activities. As of March 2001, 1.62 million online communities were constructed in the four major portal sites - daum, iloveschool, freechal, and sayclub. And about 51 percent of Internet users participate in offline gatherings. The figure was 370 million people, more than eight times the total population of South Korea. The users of four major community portal sites were young generations from mid-teens to mid-30s, although age distribution is slightly different. They gather about two to three times a month, and the average number of participants was fifteen. The size of the market has reached almost 3.75 billion U.S. dollars in Korea (Table 2). 2

The online communities in Korea surveyed can be divided into four categories: 1) social gatherings - school alumni reunions and hometown reunions 2) learning - foreign languages, computer, and literature 3) hobbies - film, sports, travel, games and food 4) matchmaking -dating, parties, and related gatherings. All categories are based on common interests. Yet, the first category is qualitatively distinct from the other three in that it could thrive where members were engaged because of the primary social bond - hometown and school. A leading alumni Web community operator, iloveschool.co.kr, is a good example of the first category. It literally swept the nation in 2000, sporting a timely combination of cyber communities and alumni associations. An Internet statistics venture firm said a total of 5.1 million individuals visited iloveschool in September alone, more than double the number in June. The company reported the number of members was 9.5 million in October 2001, capturing a leading position among cyber community operators in Korea. 3 The “iloveschool syndrome” represents a characteristic of the modern Korean society: Koreans tends to belong to communities where they can insure homogeneity since they are rather conservative towards those who do not resemble them. This regional split has been a deep social problem in Korea and politicians and political parties have taken advantage of it.

Unlike the first, the last three types of cyber communities develop from spontaneously arising consensus between individuals. The members might share primary social bonds such as school or hometown, yet they are open to a variety of other individuals. The true community is usually seen as a multi-interest group, somewhat heterogeneous. This type of community has generally been organized at the work place where the members could face one another every day. The Internet serves as a catalyst for opening up this community towards the non-place urban realms.4 The strong connection between online and offline activities seems related to the tiny but densely populated regions where face-to-face contact is unavoidable.

Two Social Paradigms of Space

French sociologist Emile Durkheim (1858-1917) questioned how the autonomy of the individual could be reconciled with the necessary regulation and discipline that was required to maintain social order in modern differentiated types of society. 5 He attempted to systematically distinguish the type of solidarity prevalent in relatively simple societies with that found in modern society. Although his theory needs modification, it seems his classificatory framework is still valid for interpreting the nature of online communities. Durkheim called the first 'mechanical solidarity' and the second 'organic solidarity'. Mechanical solidarity was founded on likeness whereas organic solidarity arose because of complementary attributes between individuals engaged in different pursuits. Durkheim’s two types of solidarity have spatial implication, which was refined by Hillier and Hanson in their development of two social paradigms of space, spatial and transpatial. 6 As organic solidarity requires a high degree of interaction among individuals, such a group is defined by the spatial proximity of members and the spatial continuity of the domain. Mechanical solidarity works by categorical similarities among individuals. The group is defined by the abstract bonds of members regardless of spatial proximity, and by conceptual cohesion rather than spatial contiguity. Hiller and Hanson called the first spatial and the second transpatial. The transpatial group tends to have a strong control on boundaries and a strong internal organization to maintain an essentially conceptual form of solidarity. The spatial group tends to have a weak boundary, and focuses on generation rather than control of events.

Every society has to some degree both spatial groups and transpatial groups: individuals are not only members of many different transpatial groups, but these transpatial groups all co-exist in the same spatial domain. Every individual not only belongs to a spatially defined group – a neighborhood or a town which is defined in terms of spatial contiguity of some degree and the spatial proximity – but also a transpatially defined group, perhaps a clan or a trade which is linked conceptually. We can argue that a city always has these two components.

Virtual space has no connection with the space in which we live; it is entirely self-contained and independent. In this respect, all online communities are transpatially defined groups because they are not linked by spatial proximity and contiguity. Yet, once online communities are transformed into offline communities, they must appear spatial. They work in experiential space where touch, hearing and muscular action exist. A question arises here: where do these activities and events take place? Do they have a strong or weak control on spatial boundaries? For example, the buildings of clubs or professional associations tend to be separated from public space, and their formal features can hardly be seen from the streets. On the other hand, cafes and restaurants are often built into the urban space with other public space contiguous to them, and their presence on the streets is evident. The former needs spatial separation to express the identity of a categorically defined group, while the latter very much depends on how they are related to the urban fabric.  

In the 1998 film “You’ve Got Mail”, two bookstore owners’ lives run in close parallel in the same idealized neighborhood, yet they first met anonymously, online, where they gradually nurture a warm, even intimate correspondence. They finally meet in a café on the streets of Manhattan. One of the messages from the film was that the traditional conception of street culture was essential even in the age of Internet. The film exemplifies how online and offline communication are related in the urban environment. The importance of street culture is more crucial in the case of group activities and events.

From Virtual Space to Real Space

One of the most symbolic and notable  examples of offline group events was the outdoor cheering campaign during the 2002 World Cup in Korea. Millions of people cheered the Korean national team in front of huge TV screens in the streets, inside baseball stadiums, and in parks. According to police estimates, around 500,000 supporters across the country gathered for outdoor showings of the Poland game on June 4th, a number that steadily increased with every new opponent. Almost one million supporters turned up to see Korea play the U.S. on June 10th, almost three million for the game with Portugal on June 14th, four million for Italy on June 18th, five million for Spain on June 22nd, and finally, seven million during the game with Germany (Fig.1). This means that on that night, almost one in seven of the population watched the game in the streets, parks and public spaces. Not only was no serious violence reported, but soccer fans collected garbage and cleaned the streets after the matches.7

The emergence of spontaneous street cheering, the new civil culture honoring spontaneous order and the new sense of patriotism might be unexpected achievements of the 2002 World Cup for Koreans. Koreans, who have long been internationally known as protectionists, are suddenly being seen as open-minded and globalized. The protagonists, who provided the lasting global image of a month-long soccer fiesta, were the "Red Devil" supporters.
They raised public awareness about soccer and prompted people to participate in outdoor cheering campaigns. It is not likely the government could mobilize as many as seven million people in a single event. It could not even mobilize seven million paid spectators. However, without the information technology infrastructure, the street cheering would not have been possible. The Red Devils posted a notice on their Internet homepage (www.reddevil.or.kr) to encourage netizens to participate in the events outside the stadium before and throughout the games.

Spatial, [A]spatial and [Trans]patial

What is most striking about the outdoor cheering is the structure and organization of the Red Devils who orchestrated behind the events, and the spatial distribution of the major cheering places in the city. Red Devils history dates back to 1993 when a soccer fan club started on the Internet. The title 'Red Devils' was chosen through a vote by the members in 1997. The Red Devils had of about 120,000 fan members by July 2002 and the majority of the members are in their 20s and 30s. As the group is based on the voluntary participation of soccer fans, they have turned down a number of advertising deals to avoid the exploitation of the commercial potential of the club.8 The organization of the Red Devils is non-hierarchical. There were no political and commercial aspects to their activities. There is a president and staff, but most of the activities are operated spontaneously at different levels and places. The membership is open to all for free. Joining and withdraw from the club also depends on the individual’s choice. The members communicate via the homepage; therefore every member is a server and at the same time a client. This two-way communication, different from other media such as television, newspapers and magazines, embraces multicultural dynamism and horizontal relationships, and challenges the old thinking about social class, gender, and age. The structure and operation of the club is very similar to the Internet and computers. The [net] space is destructuralized and deterritorialized space; it flows and connects everywhere as long as TCP/IP exists. It is more like a reticulate network; one part is connected to another part and eventually it is connected to every part of a whole network. When a part does not function, it may affect immediate neighbors, but it never ruins the whole network. The network keeps transforming and expanding, and the very openness and variability attracts the young generation.

I have discussed the two spatial paradigms of social groups: organic-spatial vs. mechanical-transpatial. Here we could argue that the Red Devils club belongs to an organic solidarity because of the diversity and openness towards different age, gender, and professions and their horizontal relations. One thing in common is that they like soccer. Despite its organic nature of solidarity, it is rare that more than a hundred thousand club members meet at one place, not even at the soccer stadium for a game. The organization is divided into several regions and the staff meetings take place in small groups. Their meeting places are not spatially contiguous but  dispersed in urban areas. In this sense, the organic solidarity of the Red Devils on the Internet is realized transpatially in the real urban space. I would argue that a combination of organic and transpatial attributes forms the new socio-spatial paradigm in the Internet era.

What about the locales of the street campaigns during the World Cup? Could we say that they are also transpatial? Do they have strong spatial boundaries? Among the numerous street cheering sites, two places need close examination and discussion: the capital city's sprawling City Hall Plaza and the nearby Kwanghwamun intersection (Fig. 2). During the World Cup, millions of people camped out at these places to celebrate en masse the national team's stunning wins over Poland, Portugal, Italy, and Spain. The two sites became hot spots for foreign tourists: they were attractive for fans not only because they offered large open areas and large television screens installed on the buildings, but also because they are the most symbolic places in downtown Seoul. Although these two places have the enormous potential as public places, automobiles have occupied them for several decades. At present, people have no choice but to use inconvenient and complicated underpasses to cross streets in that area.

When Seoul was founded as the capital in the fourteenth century, the main palace, Kyongbok Palace, lie stretched out facing due south until it met Chongno street, the east-west spine in the heart of Seoul. The intersection was Kwanghwamun. Between the Palace and the intersection, the major government offices lined both sides. Thus the intersection was the border between royal space and public space. In contrast, the City Hall Plaza was originally formed in front of Duksu Palace in the late 19th century, when the Japanese attempted to colonize the Chosun dynasty. With the plaza at the center, the radial streets were planned as a symbol of restoring royal authority against foreign superpowers. But in 1910, the Japanese colonized the Korean peninsula; they built their city hall at that location (Fig.3). Ever since, the building has been used as the Seoul City Hall. In the 1970s and 1980s, student and civilians protested against military dictatorship and police and other law-enforcement officials cracked down hard on demonstrators there.

Although the two places became the epicenters for street cheering during the games, there was no spatial hierarchy with other cheering places in Seoul. The events in these places were not planned but spontaneous, and the relationship of these places was not through linear linkage, but through point-to-point connection. As an IP address in the Internet, each place is a part of a network. Different locations are linked together not by spatial proximity but by conceptual cohesion. After the final game, the government planned a parade along the streets from the new business district in the south to downtown to celebrate the Korean team’s achievement. The parade turned out to be a failure; citizens did not actively participate in the long parade. In Korea, the street parade is considered as a remnant of military dictatorship that has taken advantage of sports events for political purposes. More importantly, the parade must unfold in linear formation, and thus it entirely depends on spatial contiguity. It is sharply contrasted to the cheering that took place in different locations independently, even in isolated places. For these reasons, I would argue that the outdoor cheering sites have transpatial components. Hillier and Hanson suggested that the transpatial group tends to have a strong control on boundaries and a strong internal organization to maintain an essentially conceptual form of solidarity. This does not apply to the case of the street cheering sites. Although the cheering places have transpatial attributes, they are easily accessible and open to everyone. In this sense, they have a weak control on boundaries and a weak internal organization.

It has been recognized that administrative boundary lines, urban blocks, are inadequate bases for defining urban areas, since they are not important indicators of the conduct of urban activities. Instead, the urban planners and designers have long argued that the spatial linkage pattern is most appropriate to vitalize the street life. But the street cheering of the World Cup demonstrates that the conception of physically continuous urban space does not necessarily reflect the patterns of urban life in the age of the automobile and the Internet. The walking distance is limited for the people who are used to driving. Even for pedestrians, a subway station works as a node from  which walking distances are defined. Traditional emphasis has been upon the spatial arrangement of activity locations conceived as unitary place. But we have neglected the concept of the city as a social network in action. This problem is more critical in the age of information technology. As discussed above, online communication by no means generates [a]spatial communities. The dispersed and self-contained urban spaces which are nonetheless pedestrian-oriented urban places are still the important connection between the invisible and intangible networks of Internet users and the physical-locational environments. This is more important in the extremely dense urban environments such as the dense Asian cities.

Towards a Micro Urban-Architectural Strategy

We live in the age when any radical urban transformation is impossible. The city is often spatially disconnected, thus lacking psychologically-reassuring qualities of place and linkage. Public buildings do not animate public events and activities because of spatial dispersion. However, an attempt to make a total pedestrianization of the street is naïve. It is more naïve to believe that the computer and the automobile will eventually eliminate social encounter and placeness. The two street cheering sites in Seoul demonstrated that the conception of placeness is much more important in the age of information technology. They work as a kind of epicenter having a “ripple effect.” It is a milieu for programmed public activities and congregation, and at the same time for unprogrammed interactions and the natural sustainment of mutual awareness.

The city is not necessarily reconstituted as a continuous urban fabric of public realms. But if we agree that urban space is an epiphenomenon of social function, we also need to understand that an extreme spatial disjunction is a symptom of social fragmentation. It is as naïve to ignore the distinctive qualities of place and community as it is to ignore the qualities of the global process of transpatialization. The virtual space in the Internet does not mean the significance of space is decreasing. On the contrary, more symbolic spaces tend to have relative locational advantages, because other urban places becomes more and more neutral and arbitrary. David Harvey once stated that “As spatial barriers diminish so we become much more sensitized to what the world’s space contains.”9 Likewise, the places where the members of online community meet and gather are not secluded or hidden, they are just ordinary street corners, restaurants, cafes, bars and so on.

The 2002 World Cup in Korea shows that the combination of an ethnically homogeneous society, extreme hyper-dense urban conditions, explosive use of Internet communication and major sporting events can spawn a unique social phenomenon. Here we learn that the holistic conception of the city and modernistic notion of urban planning could ignore the dynamism of the invisible social network in the virtual space. The phenomenon of fragmentation and decentralization seems partly unavoidable today. Yet, there is the potential to search for a relative degree of affinity, clustering, and localization different from separation and segregation. This suggests that urban planners and architects are not likely to keep abreast of these changes unless they are able to free themselves from the obsession to plan the total urban spatial structure by designing purely autonomous architectural objects. In the era of Internet communication, it is the interaction between online and offline communities, not the virtual space or place alone, that is the essence of the city and city life.

Notes and References
1. http://search.hankooki.com/ 2002/06/28; http://www.koreaherald.com/ 2002/06/27.
2. Studio Metaa, Commune Typology Study 1, Seoul, 2001
3. http://www.koreaherald.co.kr/2000/10/26; 2001/10/18.
4. Melvin Webber, (1964): The Urban Place and the Nonplace Urban Realm, In Melvin Webber, John Dyckman, Donald Foley, Albert Guttenberg, William Wheaton, Catherine Bauer Wutster: Explorations into Urban Structure, Univ. of Pennsylvania Press, Philadelphia.
5. Emile Durkheim, (1933, 1984). “The Division of Labor in Society,” (Eng. Trans. by W.D. Hallas). New York: The Free Press, A Division of Macmillan, Inc, 1984; Originally in French 1893.
6. B. Hillier and J. Hanson, “The Social Logic of Space,” Cambridge University Press, 1984; J. Peponis, (1989). Space, culture and urban design in late modernism and after. In “Ekistics, n334-335, Jan/Apr.”, Athens, pp93-108.
7. http://search.hankooki.com, 2002/06/26
8. http://www.koreaweekly.co.kr/kt_special/200102
9. David Harvey, (1989). “The Condition of Postmodernity: An Enquiry into the Origins of Cultural Change”, Blackwell, p.294.