Exploring the “Creep” in Technology: Alumna Nassim Parvin Publishes "Technocreep and the Politics of Things Not Seen"
Book Cover Image “Ineffable Freedom"; Courtesy of Darya Fard
When Dr. Nassim Parvin (PhD Design ’11) set out to explore what makes a technology “creepy,” she and collaborator Neda Atanasoski discovered much more than an uneasy feeling of being watched. Their new book, Technocreep and the Politics of Things Not Seen, dives into the cultural, political, and ethical implications of how we label and understand technologies that unsettle us.
“When they open the book, readers will see the images of a robotic headless cat and a tooth sensor for measuring food intake,” said Parvin, who is currently a Professor in the Information School at the University of Washington, where she also serves as Associate Dean for Inclusion, Diversity, Equity, Access & Sovereignty. “These technologies help foreground the questions that the book opens with: ‘What makes a technology creepy? What is at stake when a technology is deemed creepy? And could a deeper theoretical understanding of creep and creepiness as concepts serve as a starting point for imagining and enacting better relations with and through technology (i.e., those that are anti-racist and feminist)?’”
From Smart Homes to Smart Forests
The book emerged during the COVID-19 pandemic, a time when digital technologies became ever more intertwined with the intimacy of home life. Parvin recalls that the project’s focus shifted dramatically during that period.
“We were thinking about the problem of defining or assessing intelligence in smart technologies, and then COVID hit,” she explained. “There was the uneasy feeling that we were being watched and listened to without knowing or consenting; in other words that these technologies were creepy!”
From that realization grew a larger inquiry into how the term creepy operates—socially and politically. “We identified several meanings of creep that became illuminating when applied to technology—beyond the usual sense of being watched without knowing,” Parvin said. “We were struck, for instance, by how people or things that fall outside the norm are often dismissively labeled as creepy, and we wanted to challenge that impulse.”
The book’s four chapters—Smart Dust, Smart Homes, Smart Desires, and Smart Forests—invite readers to reconsider familiar binaries such as good and bad, or surveillance and privacy. “Technocreep introduces a framework as an analytical starting point for apprehending—and potentially redirecting—the subtle and often contradictory dynamic between people, technologies, and values,” Parvin said. “The collection challenges dominant narratives of control and efficiency, instead inviting feminist, decolonial, and creative approaches to imagining more just and livable futures.”
Collaboration Across Boundaries
Working across disciplines with Atanasoski and a diverse group of contributors was both challenging and rewarding. “Sometimes we were struck by how we thought in similar terms even though grounded in different theoretical discourses; and sometimes, we had to reconcile our differences in understanding in a way that was enriching and helped build nuance into the project,” Parvin shared. “Putting all these voices in conversation to build a broader argument was both a practical and intellectual challenge, but also deeply rewarding.”
The book itself embodies what Parvin calls an “undisciplined” approach to scholarship, integrating theory, art, and design. “The book is both philosophical and methodological theorizing—centered on a long-term interdisciplinary collaboration that we see as integral to understanding the complexity of technological changes including their historical trajectories,” she said. “Integrating scholarly, artistic, and creative modalities enables new ways of thinking about technology, design, and criticism, offering imaginative possibilities for how technology might be otherwise.”
Rooted in Design Education
Parvin credits her education at Carnegie Mellon’s School of Design for deeply shaping her research and teaching. “Whether I’m designing my courses and assignments, putting together a PowerPoint presentation, forging a connection with a colleague or community member for co-design, or thinking about institution building and creating pathways for the success of our students, faculty, and staff, I’m always using what I learned at design school,” she said. “I have both a strong theoretical foundation and framework to draw upon, as well as deeply rooted experiences that continue to shape how I think about research and education.”
Reflecting on her time at CMU, Parvin cites many influential mentors and moments, from the pluralistic philosophical depth of Dick Buchanan’s teaching to the feminist ethics courses of Professor Indira Nair, who she calls “a role model for me as an educator and leader.” She fondly recalls interdisciplinary experiences that integrated art, science, and ethics—an approach that clearly continues to inform her work today.
“In a way, all of the influences above manifest in the book and my trajectory as a scholar, educator, and leader,” Parvin said. “I am deeply grateful.”
Technocreep and the Politics of Things Not Seen is available now from Duke University Press and other major booksellers.