Palace in the Trees

In the documentary, The Great Hack, I think the meaning of the word hack has two meanings: one as in how everybody’s—our—data was stolen and used inappropriately, in ways that we did not consent to or have an awareness of. Even if, technically, the collecting of the data was okay and we signed some mumbo-jumbo Terms and Conditions contract, the data was stolen by an external company (Cambridge Analytica) and used even after they were explicitly told to delete and get rid of it. The data was also used to hack into the democratic process and sway things in a partisan direction through targeted disinformation or targeted information intended to push undecided voters in a particular direction.

As much as it’s great that more people were getting out to vote, it was done through a one-sided lens, without the full knowledge of all sides. It also dissuaded citizens from voting, which is incredibly destructive to democracy and completely unfair. Sowing manufactured doubt and mistrust of systems or candidates goes against democratic values.

The documentary definitely leaves you more aware of your online presence and what kinds of things are being collected about you (which is actually just everything), but I don’t see it really changing many people’s internet and social media use. At this point, in 2025, younger generations have grown up already knowing that our data is being collected and sold, and there is very little we can do about it if we want to prevent this collection. That is unfortunate, but without drastic structural and societal change, this will just continue forever.

If it is not going away, the second-best thing—other than destroying it—is to learn how to live with it, develop digital and media literacy skills, and practice smart technology usage. In education, we talk about digital citizenship and Ribble’s Nine Elements, which encourage education around digital access, digital commerce, digital communication and collaboration, digital etiquette, digital fluency, digital health and welfare, digital law, digital rights and responsibility, and digital security and privacy. By understanding how these data-collecting and targeting programs work, we can better prepare ourselves and future generations to recognize them when they see them and to know how to handle these kinds of situations.

In response to the New York Times review suggesting disconnecting from all media and moving into the woods, I often feel the same. As much as I love technology and the cool things we can do and are developing, there is a definite allure to the disconnect and the freedom that comes with it. So much of our everyday lives is so mundane, yet with such serious consequences, and it seems bizarre to have all of these consequential positions be normalized in such a casual way.

It should not feel normal to be living paycheque to paycheque, one mistake away from ending up on the streets. It should not be normal that private companies and nations are collecting our data about every little thing we say, do, or think online, to the extent that they can calculate our lives before they happen and persuade us to do what they want. In a more primitive or uncomplicated life, these things would overwhelm us and activate our survival instincts and adrenaline. Instead, there are people who have convinced us that this is normal and okay, and that we are helpless.

Society is so broken that a common discussion among women is about preferring to be stuck in the woods with a bear instead of a man. This allegory applies more broadly to this helplessness and fear that we have over something we can’t control—the fear of uncertainty and the unknown. We know what will happen if we run into a bear and have some strategies for dealing with them (if it’s brown, lay down; if it’s black, fight back; if it’s white, goodnight). With men, you never know what they’re capable of, no way of knowing how to deal with them, and there is so much more potential for scarring and traumatic experiences. With nature, you know what to expect; with technology, so much more harm is possible, and the amount of control people have over your life through it is terrifying.

I have already talked about the importance of education around digital citizenship and safety, and although I implied that there is not much we can do, I don’t believe we are helpless. We are only helpless if we allow the status quo to continue—the status quo needs to be interrupted. People need to speak up about their anger toward big tech companies. People need to make their voices heard, vote for candidates who will crack down on these corrupt corporations, and not give up if their votes don’t work. Speak to your representatives. If they don’t listen, don’t stop. We’ve seen these kinds of actions employed by pro-Palestinian advocates across the world. Fax them thousands of messages. Call them. Call them again. We need to start fighting for our rights; it is utterly disheartening to watch society roll over and take it instead of doing something about it.

I did end up falling asleep on two or three different occasions while watching this documentary, which perhaps says something. I found it frustrating to have all the different actors with different (and unclear) agendas. Throughout, I kept thinking about how punchable a face Brittany Kaiser has, but I was glad to see that she was able to kind of turn for the better at the end and continue to advocate for these issues.

Overall, I still found the documentary to have great information and to portray the issue in an interesting way, getting interview footage from all sorts of parties involved from different sides. My frustrations were less with the documentary itself and more with the people and events, but I am glad I watched it. I did have a thought that I appreciated the style of Citizenfour and how uncut it was compared to The Great Hack. This highly edited medium made it more difficult for me to follow and was a little overwhelming.

Laura Poitras’ Citizenfour captures the immense weight of Edward Snowden’s decision to leak classified NSA documents, exposing a vast global surveillance system operating without public knowledge or consent. The documentary follows Snowden as he collaborates with journalists Glenn Greenwald and Ewan MacAskill, carefully strategizing how to reveal the extent of government overreach. In typical American fashion, this government overreach is protected by a law written before computers were invented. What really stood out to me was how much Greenwald truly listened to Snowden and the other journalists involved took everything so seriously, respecting Snowden’s insights, concerns, and wanting to portray his motivations in the proper light, ensuring that the leaks and stories remained faithful to his intent and were not sensationalized. Snowden’s approach is framed not as reckless but as deeply considered, driven by his beliefs that the public had the right to understand what is being done in its name.

One of the most unsettling aspects of the documentary is the sheer scale of surveillance. The scale and magnitude of the information being exposed, as well as the situations the parties involved were in, is incomprehensible. It is not just a case of intelligence agencies tracking criminals, but an indiscriminate, all-encompassing data collection system affecting millions of people across the world. As a Canadian, I can not help but wonder to what extent we are being tracked by these kinds of agencies, foreign governments, or our own government. While some of the revelations might not feel entirely surprising, it is shocking to the extent to which government observation and surveillance occur. As much as there has always been suspicion of government overreach in surveillance, knowing for certain, with concrete data, makes it much harder to ignore.

The framing of the whistleblowing by the different parties was also unsurprising but still a bit shocking. Hearing the perspectives of Snowden, how he chooses and hopes to frame things; seeing how Greenwald decides to drip the rounds of information and stories and how he frames each story; and hearing President Barack Obama speak against Snowden in a very politician-like way was frustrating and fascinating. I found the section where they frame increased surveillance as having less liberty and freedom to be an effective way to make this reality hit harder for those who may not be as invested or interested in these kinds of stories otherwise. The documentary suggests that the idea of balancing security and privacy is misleading (a sentiment Dr. Chris Schneider discusses at length in his Police Organization and Management in a Democratic Society course), as what is framed as “security” often comes at the cost of fundamental rights. This is not to say that this is always a bad thing, but who actually decides what level of surveillance is acceptable and what kind of protections are in place for individual citizens? 

It was so fascinating to see an average person demonstrate the idea of “knowledge is power.” Snowden had an overwhelming amount of knowledge and was able to use that knowledge to contribute to meaningful action that he felt was for the betterment of society. Sure, there may be many people who hold this type of knowledge, but his move to act on it not only contributed to change but also helped him garner support and protection to escape the retaliation of the United States government. As brave as Snowden’s actions were, we are left to wonder what action was taken to address these concerns, as the documentary does not continue for another hour to explore the outcomes of this event. I would not be surprised if nothing changed, but at the very least, this hopefully brought greater awareness to the general public about privacy and digital safety issues.

The film felt grounded and almost casual in an anxiety-provoking and unsettling way. Everyone was so calm about everything, but they were confident in what they were doing and how they were doing it. This documentary, I feel, succeeds in avoiding sensationalizing Snowden and letting the information speak for itself. As with all political science classes and politics-related things, this film has left me uneasy, concerned, and increasingly pessimistic. I think, importantly, it does highlight how it only takes one person to stand up and do what they believe is the right thing, and others will follow. Systems and institutions will not change on their own, so we have to be the change we want to see.

The documentary Reel Injun explores the deep-rooted issue of Indigenous representation, misrepresentation, and erasure in Hollywood. The central conflict in the documentary is found between Hollywood’s stereotypical portrayal of Indigenous peoples and the reality of their diverse cultures, identities, and histories. Hollywood has long perpetuated a narrow, pan-Indigenous image that distorts and homogenizes many distinct groups across an entire continent. This portrayal has shaped many different cultures, groups, and identities in their being, understandings, and worldviews.

The “Injun” image portrayed in Hollywood films draws from a number of different groups, mostly from around the Great Plains region. Regalia, like the headdress, is treated as a generic costume and refuses to acknowledge its cultural and ceremonial significance. The stereotype is typically one of two extremes: the “savage” warrior or the wise elder, with little nuance in between. This stereotype is often represented with painted skin, scant buckskin clothing, long flowing hair, and a stoic demeanour. Missing from the film is the third representation of the warmly dressed Inuit who live in igloos and ride polar bears. These one-dimensional depictions reduce Indigenous characters to primitive enemies, romanticized objects, or silent brutes, as seen in characters like Chief Bromden from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

Rather than drawing from authentic sources, Hollywood recycles and distorts its own distorted portrayals, further twisting the image over time, much like the game of Telephone. The studio executives, producers, and directors stand as gatekeepers to the film industry, deciding who will play who and what stories are told. Historically, these gatekeepers are all white men who benefit from maintaining these colonial narratives and not platforming true Indigenous voices or faces. With the industry monopolized by major studios, Indigenous creators have faced barriers to funding and exposure. These misrepresentations reinforce colonial interests by justifying past and ongoing oppression, depicting Indigenous peoples as relics of the past rather than as members of contemporary, thriving communities.

In Canada, where American media is a dominant force, these portrayals have serious consequences. Misrepresentations, such as the “lazy and drunk” Indigenous stereotype, permeate throughout society, seeping into public perception, shaping biases, and influencing systemic issues like policing. In the U.S., black and brown communities face targeted policing; in Canada, the communities targeted by police are often Indigenous communities, where Indigenous folks are disproportionately criminalized or disregarded by law enforcement. Would the response to missing and murdered white men and boys be the same as that to Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls? The history of colonial oppression and biased media narratives suggests otherwise.

Overall, the documentary Reel Injun was an engaging and thought-provoking film. I appreciated the dry humour and the ability of the filmmaker to just listen, even when somebody is saying or doing something I would have a hard time being quiet about. Sitting and observing the behaviours of the children’s camp or the cowboy guys without interjecting or pushing back made for an eye-opening experience. Rather than just simply criticizing Hollywood, the film highlights Indigenous storytellers, actors, and other important voices working to reclaim Indigenous storytelling and representation in film. It challenges its viewers to critically analyze the media they consume and understand how these misrepresentations go beyond the screen, shaping social attitudes and policies in the world.

As I write this review of Noam Chomsky’s film, Manufacturing Consent (1992), I am also following the contemporary events of the world in 2025: Donald Trump’s inauguration and actions, the explosion of blatant propaganda in social media apps, and the media’s coverage (or lack thereof) around Israel’s continued actions against Palestinians and other Muslim countries in the Middle East.

As an informed, politically engaged, and active citizen, I know where to look for media sources I can trust, though that trust is always subject to change. Chomsky highlights the issues with media outlets—particularly mainstream media—showing how capitalistic desires have the power to corrupt or manipulate media and bend to the will of shareholders or advertisers. When a newspaper or news station makes its money from selling advertising space or time, its focus shifts away from distributing the news and toward capturing an audience to sell things to them.

A good example of combating this issue is the consistent Canadian government funding of the CBC. While it is true that the funding rates can fluctuate between parties and leaders, this funding helps ensure the sanctity of news and reduces the potential for control by external forces, like the wealthy class.

Critics claim Chomsky oversimplifies his argument, disregarding the independence of journalists, the diversity of viewpoints, and the agency of the public to critically analyze the media they consume. Chomsky righteously refutes this, arguing that it should not be the job of the public to put in the hours and years required to research, debunk, and analyze everything in front of them. While I believe media literacy is an essential skill to develop and teach to both younger and older generations, there should also be protections in place to keep news and media accountable and truthful.

Media manipulation of the public is not only possible but an everyday reality. A primary example of this is in the reporting language used around Israel’s occupation and attacks on Palestinians, as well as attacks in Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, and Iran. There is a clear agenda being pushed to dehumanize the attacked groups and countries, while sympathy is disproportionately given to the Israeli side.

Looking at the United States, it is equally concerning to see how corporate tech billionaires control the media. Non-American platforms are essentially forced to sell their companies to American corporations. Social media apps are being bought and acquired by billionaires and monopoly-holding corporations—META/Mark Zuckerberg owning Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp; Elon Musk acquiring Twitter/X. News media is not safe from billionaire predators either, as seen with former Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos’ 2013 acquisition of The Washington Post.

When three of the most powerful and wealthy men—who own a large majority of the media or services we use—not only control what we can access or see but also become central actors in a presidential cabinet or wield influence in high places with interests directly opposed to the rest of society, how can we trust the media or services they supply us?

While the internet has democratized much of the acquisition and dispersion of information in the present day, it also provides far more opportunities for the ignorant spreading of misinformation and disinformation. When corporations or billionaire oligarchs get to decide what content is pushed to us or allowed on their platforms, the platforms become tools to serve their interests. Rather than solely relying on advertisers, they can bypass those influences and make their platforms wholly serve their self-interests.

Paradoxically, this has led to a backsliding of democracy. While people have louder voices and larger platforms, those platforms are moderated by individuals or groups with sway over who sees what or what is allowed. Foreign interference on vulnerable platforms, such as Russian interference in U.S. elections, is a clear issue that threatens democratic integrity. Claiming that such breaches are “necessary illusions” is a blatant excuse for undemocratic control and societal manipulation. Democracy only works when the public has all the information to make informed decisions. Based on trust, democracy cannot be truly democratic unless the barriers or perversions of information cease to exist.

The film, while slow at times, was compelling and thought-provoking. Its strong message does not sugarcoat or simplify anything—the words spoken are deliberate and meant to be taken as they are. Misinterpreting the message, or misunderstanding the position from which it is being said, risks drawing the same flawed conclusions as Chomsky’s critics or detractors, who accused him of supporting a Nazi sympathizer when that was not true.

As an educator, I recognize that while words and phrasing may have specific intentions, they can also be misrepresented or misunderstood. There should be caution when addressing contentious areas such as the defence of free speech brought up in the documentary. It is admirable of Chomsky to be so steadfast in his beliefs and stand by them to the extent he does. However, it is hardly surprising that people would find the things he says or stands his ground on controversial, and it seems naïve to act as though such a reaction could be unexpected. I would never suggest compromising on your morals or values, but exercising greater caution and care in these kinds of actions could better navigate the political landscape and garner more support than criticism. In conclusion, Manufacturing Consent forces us to reckon with the influence that media has on shaping our worldviews. Chomsky’s argument about the power of corporate media to manipulate public opinion feels even more relevant today, with tech giants and billionaires controlling the flow of information on the internet and social media. While it’s crucial to be aware of these forces and cultivate the ability to critically analyze the media we consume, there’s also a need for greater protection around how news is delivered to us. Democracy can’t thrive when the information people receive is shaped by those with interests in keeping the status quo. As a society, we need to push for more accountability in our media systems—only then can we truly say that democracy is working as it should.