A Glorified Chat Room?

Yakoub Islam, June 2007

Features written about Second Life® generally have two kinds of introduction. The first recalls a conversation with a man with a horse’s head floating in mid-air, tagged by a revelation that it all happened in ‘virtual’ reality. Number two narrates an ordinary event during which the author is shot by a harpoon, with the same revelatory tag. The problem with these formulaic openers is that almost everyone now knows what Second Life is – or thinks they do. But the truth is, much of what has been reported on Second Life is based on a day or two spent there by journalists who then never return. I’ve been a member of Second Life since October 2006 and a regular visitor there ever since. It’s an experience that has changed my life.

For those who have only heard rumours, Second Life (SL) is an interactive online 3-D virtual reality which currently boasts over 7 million citizens. Members of Second Life (SL) are represented by 3-D figures called avatars who can edit their physical appearance, move around, shop and interact with other users. What makes it different from other online 3-D environments, such as World of Warcraft, is that content is entirely user-created. The result is a multitude of simulated realities conceived and constructed by members. A number of these ‘parcels’ are built for role play, and virtual sex and gambling are popular, but substantial parts of Second Life are open to users who have better things on their minds.

Linden Labs, owners of Second Life, have encouraged a now flourishing not-for-profit sector and the result is over 60 US-based universities now have a substantial presence in-world, including Harvard. Charities such as Greenpeace have virtual stalls and religion is here, too: Christianity and Buddhism are well represented in terms of virtual architecture, although a coherent Muslim community has been slower to emerge. Yet ironically, the relatively late arrival of a Muslim-owned religious project has been a boon for virtual Muslim culture.

At present, Chebi mosque is the hub of virtual religious activity on Second Life. What surprises many people is that its architect is not a Muslim, but avatar Marino Nuvolari, in real life an artist based in Spain with a passion for Moroccan art. The result is a beautiful virtual interpretation of La Mezquita, the great mosque of Córdoba, a cathedral since the Spanish Reconquista and currently a world heritage site. Outside of the metaverse, the Cordoba mosque is a topic of controversy following a letter from the Spanish Islamic Board to the Pope late last year, requesting it be re-opened to Muslim worship. No such problems on Second Life, where Marino welcomes everyone – with the result that Second Life’s Muslim community is perhaps uniquely diverse, embracing Sunni, Shi’a, Salafi and Ahmadiyya Muslims.

“What about the timing and legality of virtual worship?” I ask Marino. The mosque includes animations that permit avatars to prostrate themselves and there are plans to update this to make the movements fully emulate salah. “New world, new problems.” He answers. Like Marino and like Second Life’s creator Philip Rosedale, a few Muslims are wholeheartedly embracing this world’s previously unimaginable possibilities. Yet such potential brings with it ethical and religious issues, although fatawa on virtual religious practices will only be taken seriously if concerned Muslim scholars choose to embrace what may be the future of the Net.

The visceral link between virtual and real-life is hard to explain to outsiders. For example, if someone invades my avatar’s ‘body space’, I experience anxiety, just as I would if it were taking place in the real world, except that the emotional impact is less intense because I am still conscious of experiencing the virtual world from the safety of my PC. I am also protected by Linden Labs’ community regulations which prohibit the kind of excesses often associated with Net-based chat. This experience of safe but tangible presence in the metaverse, combined with the sense of identity which develops around one’s avatar, may well be the key to Second Life’s potential.

“It’s no more virtual than talking to people on the telephone,” says avatar Zafu Diamond, a British Buddhist known as John Palmer in real life. John is the founder of Support for Healing, an organisation that offers in-world support for people suffering from mental health problems. Whilst not offering a professional counselling service, the regular group sessions held on his Second Life island provide a “value added” for many already receiving therapy. The Buddhist architecture and the busy yet tranquil beauty of the island’s terrain is therapeutic in itself, attracting a regular stream of visitors from all faiths and none.

For others, Second Life provides a solution to social isolation of a different order. Avatar Danni Ohara is married with a three year old child, but has Asperger Syndrome - which makes social communication with people outside of her understanding family problematic. With one of Second Life’s developers diagnosed with the condition, this new world has become something of a magnet for ‘Aspies’ as people with the syndrome often prefer to be called. I met Danni not far from the SL meeting house constructed by the Autism Liberation Front, which promotes an understanding of autism and Asperger syndrome as a neurological difference rather than a disease. She explained the advantages of this 3-D world to people such as herself. “It is easier to socialize on SL, because there's less to think about.” Danni told me. “Facial expressions, body language, tone of voice and so on don't really exist in here.” People with Asperger’s find these kind of non-verbal signals difficult to read.

The social aspect of Second Life has already attracted editor of American Anthropologist, Tom Boellstorff, to write a book about the metaverse (in press), focusing on general issues such as virtual identity, a tangent from his prevailing research interest in Muslim communities. However, there is no shortage of students keen to write dissertations on the burgeoning religious scene in Second Life. Perhaps the most intriguing is Kimberly Knight (SL Sophianne Rhode), a third year theology student at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia, who decided to aid her study by purchasing two islands and inviting Christian, Jewish and Muslim avatars to purchase land under a covenant agreement and build an interfaith community. The result is Koinonia, a Greek word meaning “partnership” or “fellowship”.

“I seek to synthesize my ongoing theological and pedagogical training with experiences as a participant observer of online communities,” explained Kimberley, who is a member of the United Church of Christ, a US-based Christian group that is part of a wider body of Christians committed to interfaith dialogue. Core members of Koinonia have gone on to found an educational wing, quirkily known as Qoheleth Un/Iversity of Interfaith Learning and Teaching (QUILT), whose membership extends across the world, from the US to the UK to Australia. Arranging in-world meetings can be tricky, but the spread across time-zones has its upside: the group are currently planning a 24 hour “teach-in” at QUILT’s new virtual schoolhouse.

The Muslim community on Second Life appears to be taking a similar direction. Al-Andalus is a project led by avatar Michel Manen. His grand plan is to recreate a 65000 square metre cityscape inspired by the Medieval Spanish Muslim civilization of Andalusia, mirroring its multifaith character at the same time as developing “a system of governance combining authentically islamic principles and traditions with universal ideals of popular participation and human rights”. This exciting project has around 40 core supporters, but as I write, the group has only managed to raise 50% of the funds necessary to instigate the project.

As in real life, the visibility of Islam in-world has not been without controversy. Manen’s project was particularly welcomed, coming as it did in the wake of an allegedly politically motivated attack on virtual Muslims by avatar Taras Balderdash, one of the game’s religious veterans. Balderdash appears in Second Life’s official guide, but his attempt to smear Islam as being “intolerant of other faiths” only resulted in his own supposedly multifaith organisation collapsing in dispute and disarray. It’s a politics that doesn’t wash in a world where the average user is in their mid-thirties and most likely graduate educated.

“Our communities have a wonderful relationship and understanding of each other!” Beth Odets’ avatar is just how I’d imagine a young, hip, Jewish artist would look like in real life. And indeed, in real life, she is a hip Jewish artist. The parcel she owns, Tragically Misunderstood Artists, buzzes with her whimsical creations. Yet Beth is better known as the creator of Second Life’s first synagogue or shul, a creation which has seen the Jewish community on Second Life subsequently blossom along with a continued commitment to dialogue with other faith groups. Their own community magazine, 2Life, focused on interfaith in its third issue. My own contribution spoke of the need for dialogue between our communities as a prelude to truth and reconciliation in Israel and the occupied territories. I had no concern it would be published, although – as with every group – the views of Jewish avatars are scattered across the political spectrum. Yet again, the unique sense of safety in this metaverse precluded a disputive response to diversity. Whether this ethos can be maintained, as Second Life membership jumps skyward, remains to be seen.

Is Second life a glorified chat room or video game? As I write this, I am sitting inside InfoIsland virtual library, a venture developed by a US library project called Alliance Library System who also work on the moderated Second Life Teen grid. By sitting at a virtual desk, I can access online news. I can learn about faiths through streaming videos provided at the many SL places of worship or via the nearby peace park with its lists of links to specialist religious studies sites. The cultural potential of such dynamic online environments is clearly huge. As technological developments enable 3-D worlds to incorporate traditional websites, this ‘glorified chat room’ just might turn out to be the future of the web.

Yakoub Islam is a writer and primary carer of a child with autism. On Second Life, he is known as Drown Pharaoh. This piece was written for Q-News UK, but never appeared as the magazine failed to restart publication.

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