Inhibition, Anonymity, & Mosh Pits

Arful Design Chapter 7

Chapter 7 of Ge Wang's Artful Design deals with the social component of design and its broader implications for technology. Thinking about anonymity and creative inhibition made me think of New York City: I love the blend of anonymity and closeness I feel there. You can hardly take the subway without seeing people playing music and strangers spontaneously dancing or cheering them on.

There is something incredibly freeing about no one around you knowing - or even caring - who you are and how you got there. People often think of NYC as full of lunatics and oddballs, but I believe the city is designed to free people of their inhibitions and allow them to be their most creative selves. Partly out of necessity, large cities force daily interaction with strangers in a way suburbia and rural life do not.

In a way, music festivals are designed around the same ethos. You may run into people you know and go with friends, but the magic lies in the sheer number of people you do not know. The same can be said for mosh pits, something I was afraid of until recently. A proper mosh pit is like a superorganism that ebbs and flows, expands and contracts, churns and bubbles but never boils over. At one venue in particular, Market Hotel, I started to understand that most mosh pits share unspoken rules: bigger people look out for smaller people, people outside of the mosh pit are left alone, and everyone keeps an eye out for people losing things or falling. It is incredibly affirming to watch a bubble instantly form around someone looking for dropped glasses or keys, strangers instinctually forming a caring community centered around enjoying live music. Of course, there are people who don't follow these unspoken rules, but they are generally sequestered to the sidelines by those with the superorganism's wellbeing in mind. I was once viciously elbowed in the head by a drunk guy, only to be immediately pulled out of the way of further harm by those around me. By the time I looked up, I had been safely shuttled to the edge of the crowd.

The magic of mosh pits comes from anonymity. I cannot imagine trying to create a mosh pit with only friends or others I know (and I don't necessarily want my friends to see me that sweaty!). All inhibition is lost in a roomful of strangers, and while not necessarily artistic, the mosh pit experience is an extremely authentic and human expression of music engagement. It makes you feel like a small cell, part of something bigger and wilder than you could make by yourself. That is how NYC works on many levels, and it is an inspiring thing to witness.