Human No More

7 Avatar

A Posthuman Perspective on Virtual Worlds

Gray Graffam

When paraplegic Jake Sully takes virtual form in the film Avatar, he enters the world of the Na’vi, where he assumes the fully functional physical form of an alien humanoid species and falls in love with the young, attractive, and highly spirited Ney’tiri. At the end of the film, struggling and dying, he succeeds in transferring his life essence into his avatar form and completes his transformation to a living being in an alien world.

For those who have played Second Life or World of Warcraft, the film Avatar is a powerful allegory for life experience in an online virtual world (Graffam 2011). For some, the idea of being an avatar on a regular and continual basis is a powerful attraction for entering such online worlds. Taking the form of an avatar represents—however fleeting—a means of seemingly overcoming a number of inadequacies in real life. For some, it embraces love, passion, and an overwhelming sense of heartfelt emotion, filling a void of loneliness and longing. For others, it represents a wholeness of being, allowing a sense of movement, re-creation, and fulfillment and a release from pain and suffering and, at times, physical disability. Still for others, it represents a form of entertainment and social interaction, at times embracing the exotic and experimental and relieving a sense of loneliness and boredom. It can also be a means of staying in touch and maintaining real-life friendships and family relationships at a distance. In essence, taking the form of an avatar allows people to interact in new and novel ways that push the boundaries they encounter in real life and to derive a sense of enjoyment and fulfillment in ways that may be denied them in the real world.

DOI: 10.5876/9781607321705.c07

Of course, all of this begs the question of whether we, as a species, are quite ready to embrace the virtual. The growing body of posthuman research and theory suggests that perhaps we are not, at least not completely and not without serious consideration of how virtuality can alter our sense of family, sociality, and psychological well-being. But research also reveals that people are indeed experiencing the virtual more and more and that some are spending inordinate amounts of time in such worlds, so much in fact that a virtual world can form a primary means of communication and social interaction.

The research foundation for my work comes from having spent more than 2,000 hours in Second Life and World of Warcraft over the past two years, plus a number of hours on Skype, Ventrilo, Facebook, YouTube, Yahoo Messenger, and texting platforms of various sorts. I have interacted via computer, cell phone, and tablet, and I have been fully immersed (some might prefer to say addicted), interacting with hundreds of people and, in the case of World of Warcraft, also joining one of the oldest guilds in the game and attaining a level 85 ranking (currently the highest in the game).

Can views on the posthuman help us to understand the cultures and people who “live” within such worlds? I believe so, in particular because such views allow us to frame our research in ways that acknowledge how fiction, illusion, and reality can blend together in ways that fashion computer-mediated experience and craft online performance. They provide a perspective on virtuality and materiality within which to reflect and interpret actions and behaviors in modern context. They allow us to address such topics as imagination, disembodiment and re-embodiment, courtship and romance, identity and social identity, gender and sexuality, sociality, materiality, performance, and performative mastery, among a great many others. Moreover, such views force us to look at the intricacies of human behavior and the dynamics of culture as they are shaped and heavily influenced by virtuality. As mentioned by Whitehead at the outset of this volume, such views force us continually to ask how the “human subject” is best viewed when it comes to online agency.

By “posthuman,” I am referring to that growing body of literature and theory that deals with computer-mediated human interaction, where imagination and sensation extend beyond the reach of the human body. Along with others (see Whitehead 2009, this volume; Cool, this volume; Hayles 1999), I argue that the term serves as a useful concept for reflection on those aspects of humanity that concern us here, particularly in terms of computer-mediated space. I disagree with those who deny its utility or seem to lack an understanding of its theoretical underpinnings, breadth, and scope (Boellstorff 2008, 29). But to return to the central question, is humankind ready to embrace virtuality? Are we prepared for what virtuality on a regular, routine, and immersive basis means to us? As will be shown below, some appear to be achieving just that end within Second Life, and surviving quite well, but others are less successful.

THE INCREASING POPULARITY OF VIRTUAL WORLDS

What constitutes a virtual world? One definition that seems workable from an anthropological perspective is an environment that enables people to interact in virtual form as avatars as part of a computer-mediated environment, such as an MMO (massively multiplayer online) or MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game). For the most part, all virtual worlds have the same basic components: (1) the capacity to adopt avatar form, that is, to represent oneself in a digitized human, humanoid, animal, or other shape that is graphically represented to others; (2) the capacity to communicate through various forms of synchronous and asynchronous communication, that is, to send messages via e-mail clients, to text via chat utilities, to talk via VoIP applications, and to make visual gestures; (3) some form of virtual map in which localities and geography are represented and some means by which teleportation may occur; (4) some way in which an avatar may interact with world objects, that is, to pick up or animate various represented forms such as horses, winged mythical beings, or various bits of clothing and equipment, to name just a few; and (5) the virtual world continues to exist whether the individual avatar is logged in or not. As such, virtual worlds differ from computer-mediated space, such as Facebook, YouTube, and eHarmony, which may be regarded as communities in their own right but differ considerably in how they represent and facilitate human behaviors and interactions.

As of this writing, World of Warcraft and Second Life are two of the most popular virtual worlds accessed on the Internet today. There are upward of 12 million active players of World of Warcraft worldwide, roughly equal to the current population of Greece, and there are approximately 800,000 active players of Second Life, roughly today’s population of Cyprus. Together they represent a combined annual revenue of more than $300 million, or just over 1.2 percent of the total annual US video game spending of $27.4 billion (Newzoo, cited by Gamasutra, December 20, 2010). Considering that neither of these virtual worlds existed until recently—World of Warcraft launched in 2001 and Second Life in 2003—it seems that 3-D fantasy worlds have sparked imaginations the world over and also dramatically changed what might be called “playscape” in a rapid explosion of the posthuman (Graffam 2010).

There is little sign that the popularity of such worlds is abating. World of Warcraft continues to release its updates to its virtual world, and its number of players has steadily increased over the years. Furthermore, Second Life continues to hover at 800,000 players and just recently announced the highest earning quarter in the company’s history (Linden Labs 2011). These two worlds have continued to thrive in a context in which there has been growing interest in virtual worlds (Table 7.1).

Table 7.1. A list of virtual worlds and their release dates

Virtual World	Launch Date
Active Worlds	1997
Cybertown	1995
Disney’s Toontown	2003
Dreamville	2004
Kaneva	2004
Lord of the Rings	2007
Muse	2002
Papermint	2010
Second Life	2003
The Sims Online	2002
There	2003
Virtual Ibiza	2002
Virtual Magic Kingdom	2005
World of Warcraft	2001

Over the past decade, the number of adult players online has increased substantially. According to Park Associates (Shack News 2007), the percentage of adult US Internet users who play online video games on a weekly basis was 34 percent in 2007. Others, such as the NPD Group (Shack News 2008), have estimated a similar percentage. And that percentage more than doubles for the population ages six to forty-five. In that year, the rate of online gaming adoption actually exceeded that of social networking. Furthermore, Comscore estimated the total number of online gamers worldwide at 217 million in 2007 (Comscore 2007). Various sources indicate that online gaming is one of the most rapidly growing areas of interest among adults, and that the percentages of men and women games are roughly 60 and 40, respectively (Flew and Humphreys 2005; Plunkett Research 2010; Entertainment Software Association 2011).

Of course, these statistics are somewhat difficult to compile and may be subject to disagreement and some degree of fluctuation. The point remains, however, that it is reasonable to conclude that online gaming’s popularity is not diminishing and appears to have growing adult interest and participation. Thus, there is a growing need for anthropologists and other social scientists to engage in the study of online gaming activity.

PERSONHOOD AND IDENTITY

Personhood and identity are two major themes that emerge from the study of virtual worlds. Both Boellstorff (2008, 118–150) and Nardi (2010, 158–166) discuss the importance of taking avatar form, as do a number of others (Bessière, Seay, and Kiesler 2007; Huh and Williams 2010). From my experience in both World of Warcraft and Second Life, the idea of virtual personhood varies substantially among different virtual worlds. For example, many men currently play female characters in World of Warcraft and Second Life. Indeed, my character in World of Warcraft is a female Draenai shaman, which as of this writing is at level 85, that is, an avatar that has just reached the current top level in the game. I also play a female avatar in Second Life, although she is not my main one. I use her to test just how difficult it is to be an attractive female form in Second Life. In neither instance did I engage in voice with my female avatar but relied on texting only. From my research and experience, the nature of engagement is strikingly different between these worlds and their associated behaviors.

In World of Warcraft (WoW), being identified as a woman often carries a negative association, which is drawn from a male misconception that “women can’t play WoW.” In fact, some women prefer to keep their gender when playing “publicly,” in random dungeons, or elsewhere without their guildmates. For example, Nikita (a pseudonym) relates her experience when she was “outed” as a female player playing a female avatar. She saved the dialogue (now several years old) and shared it with me:

[Meg]: Are you telling people that you’re a girl, btw?

[Nikita]: Well, it’s kind of obvious that I’m Mick’s gf, and they’ll hear me eventually so . . .

[Meg]: It’s not obvious yet!

[Meg]: Kind of unavoidable

[Meg, switches to guild chat to announce to the group.]

[Meg]: Guys, just FYI

[Meg]: Nikita has a uterus

[Meg]: Just wanted to make sure you all knew

[Quin]: Kill it with fire!

[Troy]: Is there anything inside?

[Camp]: That’s awesome!

[Meg]: There, now it’s out there

[Troy]: I thought Mick had the uterus

When asked about her concerns at the time, Nikita related that she had been fairly nervous about being revealed to be a woman in Warcraft, as her previous guild had engaged in a great deal of female bashing that annoyed her. She stated that it is often worse to be identified as a real-life woman in Warcraft. Men may be teased about playing a girl, but they are usually taken seriously in terms of play if they are good. Women, however, may find that being identified as a woman in real life means that other players will not listen to your suggestions or follow your lead, even if you are more experienced and a better player than many others. I did play with Nikita to gain some insight on how well she played Warcraft and found that she was indeed one of the most knowledgeable and skilled players I had encountered. Hence, it seems fair to interpret her conclusion as being fairly accurate. If once she was identified as a woman in the game she was ignored and her ideas not listened to, it is fair to consider this an example of gender bias in game play. Men, on the other hand, when identified as playing a female avatar are often simply teased about the choice.

[Agile]: Why do you play a female char, if you’re a guy?

[Gray]: Oh, I started as a male, but I had a sex change ... lol

[Agile]: Hehe. Really?

[Gray]: Well, the male Draenai is kinda ugly and all, and I just couldn’t stand looking at him

[Gray]: So I changed.

[Agile]: ROFL

[Agile]: Well, enjoy watching the wiggle

[Agile]: LOL

The above exchange follows closely what Nardi (2010, 159) has also observed about men playing female characters. It reflects more what men prefer to watch on-screen while playing the game than some deep-seated aspect of sexuality. In my case, being identified as a man playing a female character had no consequence in my game play. In fact, people were much more concerned about my ability to undertake a given task, and appreciative when I could achieve it. When leveling with Agile, he never once was concerned about my sexuality, nor was I for that matter, and he was simply happy when I was able to save him from one catastrophe or another. Indeed, the subject was never mentioned again.

Gender switching in Second Life, however, is a different experience. There is a tendency, as noted by Boellstorff (2008, 141), for people to experiment with gender roles, cross-dressing, and other aspects of sexuality and gender. This experimentation is highly meaningful given some of the main motivations and drivers for playing Second Life, namely dating, romantic relationships, companionship, and cybersex. Playing the other sex in Second Life greatly affects game play, dramatically changing the context and the potential meaning behind gender play. Boellstorff (2008, 142) discusses these matters and states that taking avatar form provides the opportunity for sexual exploration and transmutability of gender. It is a key aspect of this virtual world. Gender play in Second Life, however, is not limited to playing the other sex in avatar form. Experimentation with, for example, gay genders, transvestism, and cross-dressing takes place in this virtual world. Comments from those who frequent gay and transgendered space in Second Life often reflect how it lets them relax and feel comfortable among those “who accept them for who they are, and do not judge.” In this instance, Second Life is like the Lesbian Café bulletin board written over a decade ago (Correll 1995). A space in which people interact takes on a special attachment that facilitates symbolic meaning. It fires the imagination and creates a context for role play, and in so doing transcends the fictional and embraces the real.

For the most part, my experience in Second Life has been as a male avatar, and what I have witnessed and experienced in terms of identity pertained primarily to group culture. This is by far one of the key differences between Second Life and World of Warcraft. In Second Life, appearance is much more malleable, both in terms of physical characteristics, such as shape, skin, and hairstyle and color, and also in terms of clothing, such as biker gear, flowing ball gowns, or punk wear. Although fictive races also present in Second Life, such as Night Elves, Werewolves, and Vampires, most avatars are presented as human. The ability to alter fine details of facial appearance, the height and musculature of the body, or the details of one’s clothing, all far exceed the ability to modify appearance in World of Warcraft or other programs. Moreover, the ability to alter one’s appearance for purposes of affecting social identity is very high in Second Life. You can easily appear as a lover of country and western music and horse rancher wearing western boots and a cowboy hat or as an urban youth, a Goth, a BDSM slave, a biker, a martial arts Ninja, or any other number of social identities that define group culture. Thus, identity is exceedingly personal in Second Life and much less so in World of Warcraft. Not only does this affect role play and point to differences between these two worlds, but it also shapes the very basis of social interaction in these two worlds. In Second Life, you craft and adapt your appearance to fit into the group culture that you wish to join; in World of Warcraft, you accept more limitations. Symbolic representation is much more active in Second Life primarily because symbols are easily adopted and worn, such as a Hell’s Angels “support crew” jacket that marks you as part of the biker world or the “ownership” collar that represents an association with the dominant-submissive culture of BDSM clubs.

FORMING AND MAINTAINING RELATIONSHIPS IN VIRTUAL WORLDS

Virtual worlds are considered by many to be first and foremost a form of entertainment. People play and interact in them primarily to have fun. Within World of Warcraft and Second Life, various relationships are created and maintained. For the most part, such relationships can be classified as forms of friendship. Between World of Warcraft and Second Life, the nature of these friendships varies considerably. The former are primarily based around teasing and joking camaraderie focused on game play (Chen 2008; Williams et al. 2006). The latter are mostly centered on social relationships, dating, and courtship with rules that are defined by the role-play of the participants (Boellstorff 2008). Immersion in virtual worlds governs reality in the sense that virtual environments often guide interaction, discussion, and the general sense of virtual being.

In both World of Warcraft and Second Life, and for that matter undoubtedly all virtual worlds, players engage the world using their imaginations. Here, one’s ability to visualize and project oneself provides a foundation in terms of disembodiment and re-embodiment—two key aspects of virtuality. All virtual worlds contain aspects of movement and fantasy that are decidedly unreal and fictive, for example, flying on creatures’ backs, engaging in mock battles, and shape-shifting into other forms. Most players suspend disbelief when they enter these worlds, much like they do when reading a novel, watching a play, or going to a movie. In so doing, they allow their imaginations to flow freely and they engage in aspects of fantasy and role-play as they interact with others. Although they are actively engaged in a fictive sense, they undertake virtual actions and activities from which real emotions and a sense of emotional satisfaction (or dissatisfaction) is drawn.

The more time they spend in virtual form, the more emotionally attached they become to their avatar, as well as to the creation and sharing of memories and a recollection of a mutual past with others. Space, place, and virtual actions are recognized as having “happened,” and imagination and projection, which triggered the setting in the first place, allow players to draw emotions from such virtual occurrences. Of course, for this to happen, there is also a large amount of “in-filling” that happens, as all virtual worlds tend to diminish some senses and heighten others. For example, vision (as illusion) is embraced, as is hearing, whereas touch (other than the illusion of touch), smell, and taste are all lacking. But the suspension of disbelief tends to overcome this, which is at times reflected in texting, for example, when someone mentions the smell or someone’s hair or the taste of a certain food. At some level, therefore, all virtual worlds share a means of facilitating posthuman experience, whereby imagination facilitates experience that enables real emotions, feelings, and passions (Figure 7.1).

The main drivers that motivate people to enter a virtual world seem to be somewhat world-specific, and there is a striking difference between Second Life and World of Warcraft. Many who choose to enter Second Life are searching for a relationship of friendship, love, romance, virtual sex, or some combination thereof, perhaps accompanied by a sense of sexual exploration, for example, BDSM. Many who play World of Warcraft, however, are searching for a sense of accomplishment and a relief from boredom. How satisfied someone is in real-life relationships seems to be a vital factor for many in Second Life, but it is much less of a concern with those playing World of Warcraft.

FIGURE 7.1.

Modeling virtuality of the posthuman

I encountered many people in Second Life who had experienced one or more failed romantic relationships in the virtual world, but I encountered few in World of Warcraft. The main drivers and desires that lead a person to engage in one type of virtuality over another seem to be based on their needs, hopes, and wants in real life. Of course, these worlds overlap, particularly where friendship and interaction are the desired goals. The difficulty seems to concern expectations. In Second Life, relationships often evolve along romantic and sexual lines. This is usually not the case in World of Warcraft, because most WoW players are not playing the game to facilitate romantic and sexual relationships. Even when couples play WoW together, the game is not a vehicle for exploring love, passion, or sex. Second Life with its dance animations, portrayal of sex acts, and emphasis on romance is decidedly different.

From my own experience, fantasy is a powerful force driving immersion in virtual worlds and has the potential for dramatic real-life consequences. In World of Warcraft, leveling my character and developing a top-level ranking in several professions took approximately 800 hours of play time, and along the way I was fortunate to join one of the oldest and longest-lasting WoW guilds. Doing this in a matter of months meant that I spent a lot of time in this virtual world—and not participating in real life. At around level 50 in World of Warcraft, my wife began to comment on my daily absences. A daily commitment of three to four hours of gaming is noticeable, and your partner needs to be a gamer, very tolerant, or both. Around level 70, my teenage son said to me, “Dad, you’re playing computer games too much,” and at level 80 my family celebrated my top ranking (only later did Cataclysm “up” the top level to 85), hoping that now I would finally stop playing WoW. However, as anyone playing the game knows, “life begins at 80” means that only at that level do you have access to a number of dungeons, can participate in raids, and acquire the highest performance gear. When the game opens up at this level, play changes from leveling up to facing some of the game’s greatest challenges with others in your guild. For me, attaining level 80 was my first opportunity to really play with some of my guildmates, who had attained that ranking years ago.

When Cataclysm was released in 2010, there was a resurgence of interest in leveling to the highest level in the game, and in beating the game itself—the ultimate task, which frustrates many players and guilds, because beating the game requires the coordinated efforts of many. The desire to support the group and not let them down in reaching a goal, and eventually beating the game, is a powerful driver governing play. It led to my full immersion in WoW, which came at the expense of engaging in real-life activities. The sense of responsibility and moral obligation to those you are playing with online conflicts with real-life duties and responsibilities. The potential consequence, of course, is that immersion in this world causes you to disconnect from reality, potentially harming relationships with friends and family.

When asked if it was important that a partner also play World of Warcraft, Rich (a pseudonym) responded: “We have a lot of friends that have wives now that don’t play games ... They’ll pop on to play for a little, and then all of a sudden they’re like, we can’t play this, we don’t have the time, so they’ll cancel their accounts. Since me and Sarah are married, of course, and we both like gaming, it’s definite ... we both play games constantly, whether it’s WoW or something else.” And according to Steve (also a pseudonym), “It only works cause my wife plays.” Indeed, she is member of the same guild. The investment of time in World of Warcraft—over the long term—is often a barrier to play when a significant other appears on the scene, unless that person also enjoys online gaming.

The commitment to spending time in a virtual world is also shared in Second Life. In this world, although it is less structured and the rules of play are defined by those in world, people want to spend time together and to stay “up” with occurrences and friends. Indeed, some activities in Second Life demand the same kind of attention as real-life activities. For example, raising horses involves feeding and breeding them on a daily basis, which can easily take an hour, depending on the size of the virtual herd. But even when role-play is more flexible, many spend hours immersed in this virtual world on a daily basis. This is not dissimilar from visiting friends in real life, and it stems from the true desire to spend time with friends.

From my research, relationships appear to be governed primarily by subculture and group culture. Particularly significant is the way that support and governance are crafted and how they define groups and behavior. Few people actively engage in Second Life alone. They form groups of friends, sometimes share residences, and role-play as “family” to one another (fictive kin relations), where a player will ask another to play the role of, for example, sister, mother, daughter, or brother. By defining relationships in these ways, the players impose expectations of behavior. In Second Life, one’s “family” acts as a form of governance and provides support and guidance, particularly during times of emotional need, whether in the virtual world or out. Moreover, it serves to define the nature of group culture and subculture in terms of beliefs, values, and interests.

In both World of Warcraft and Second Life, one can easily find people who have fallen in love in the virtual world and who have then subsequently formed a long-lasting relationship in real life as well. Being immersed in the same virtual world appears to be important for the long-term success of a real-life relationship. What surprised me most in World of Warcraft was the number of couples in my guild, that is, the number of players who have a significant relationship in real life with another player in the guild. Of the guild’s thirty-five players, there were at least four couples, meaning that almost a quarter of the guild was romantically involved. This seems high for guild statistics and may be a result of the age—and the long-term stability—of this particular guild. With the exception of one, all women in the guild were attached to another player. Of course, falling in love and maintaining romantic relationships seem more common in Second Life than in any other virtual world, primarily because romantic activity is fostered through dance, gesture, and avatar animation. For many, maintaining a relationship is why they play Second Life, and they engage in hours of online interaction daily as a form of sharing, building, and maintaining their relationships.

But maintaining such virtual relationships, whether in World of Warcraft or Second Life, is not easily done through the virtual world alone. Difficulties are encountered, particularly because virtuality lacks key senses, as mentioned above. As a result, many use Skype or a similar program to video chat, share photos, or also interact as friends on Facebook. Some get together in real life to establish meaningfulness in a relationship that they then carry back into the virtual world, as they rely on personal intimacy to help maintain the virtual. In this way, memory of the real is drawn into the virtual, where it helps to overcome the sensory deprivation of the virtual environment.

OVERCOMING DISABILITY

People in virtual worlds occasionally engage in represented actions they can no longer do in real life, given personal disabilities, age, illness, and so forth, drawing a sense of renewal and emotional happiness from these actions. For some, this ability forms the primary motivator for their immersion in virtual environments. In my experience in both worlds, I encountered a number of people who stated they were suffering in real life, from people who were terminally ill to those who were bedridden or confined to a wheelchair. There is no doubt that people who are experiencing pain in real life are engaged in virtual worlds for reasons that go beyond entertainment or relief from boredom. These players often spend an inordinate amount of time in the virtual world, where they are able to escape the pain of real life.

In my experience, there is a difference between Second Life and World of Warcraft with regard to these players. Some in Second Life talk openly about their pain and disabilities, and they may also take up specific actions to provide an experience that they miss in real life. For example, a woman who loves to dance but can longer do so in real life enjoys the experience through virtual representation, and the disabled male athlete, who can no longer walk, virtually re-creates the sense of taking part in the sport he loves. In World of Warcraft, this manner of virtuality is not as individually tailored, but even there it seems to relate strongly to the sense of a personal past and a desire for rejoicing virtual performance.

DISCUSSION

How can views on the posthuman help us to understand virtual worlds and the cultures and people that occupy them? According to Hayles (1999, 3), “the posthuman subject is an amalgam, a collection of heterogeneous components, a material-informational entity whose boundaries undergo continuous construction and reconstruction.” Moreover, Cool (this volume) discusses the posthuman in terms of “digital intermediation” that serves to “reconfigure experiences and imaginaries of place, identity, and embodiment without dematerializing these as sites of subjectivity or rendering them obsolete as sources of anthropological insight.” In this discussion of World of Warcraft and Second Life, we see that, indeed, there is a multifaceted blend of real and virtual, fueled by genuine desires, transformed by the imagination into virtual forms that interact with others in virtual space, and experienced in terms of real emotions, passions, and feelings that are reinterpreted as actual experience. It is not surprising, given this sense of posthuman transformation and interaction, that those who spend an inordinate amount of time in a virtual world experience something akin to culture shock when they leave that world. The power of such fantasy is at times overwhelming, decidedly disorienting, and often completely thought absorbing.

Such virtual worlds clearly embrace the posthuman. The World of Warcraft and Second Life are two excellent examples of this kind of virtual environment and of the activities that typify online behaviors. Avatars engage in a wide range of activities in virtual space, occupy fictive landscapes, and actively employ the imagination in the creation and celebration of virtuality. From killing fictive beasts in World of Warcraft to engaging in BDSM sexual role-play in Second Life, the range of possible experiences substantiate that many people enjoy a rich posthuman fantasy life. But how much is fantasy and how much is real? Where is the dividing line between what is objectively human and what is decidedly computer-mediated illusion? It seems that the line is most clearly defined on an individual basis. Some people maintain a clear sense of being when in avatar form and resist the temptation to enter a fictive world. Others easily become “lost in the moment” and find that the line between fictive and real can be elusive.

Are we ready as a species for posthuman virtuality? Perhaps we are, but if this is the case, we need to understand that virtuality is not as simple as being online and texting the voice of an avatar body; it goes well beyond such a literal understanding of representation. In many ways, posthuman virtuality embraces the work of Butler (1993) and others (Fausto-Sterling 1997; Martin 1997) on a theoretical level, where scripting on to the body enables both representation and the filter through which our interpretation of actions and consequence takes place.

In this chapter, the topics of identity and personhood, forming and maintain relationships, and overcoming disability have all touched on the posthuman. These themes reveal that there is much more to understanding virtual environments than many recent scholarly works have touched on (Ducheneaut and Moore 2005; Ducheneaut et al. 2006a, 2006b, 2007; Malaby 2007; Golub 2010; Pace, Bardzell, and Bardzell 2010; Bainbridge 2010; Chen and Duh 2007; Castronova 2002; Ito 1997; Moore, Ducheneaut, and Nickell 2007). I have tried to demonstrate that an anthropological study of the World of Warcraft and Second Life requires a researcher to invest a great deal of time in virtual environments to develop performative mastery or to engage with others in understanding the nature of virtuality and experience as part of building an overarching ethnographic perspective. This necessity, of course, condemns those disciplines that do not embrace an ethnography (e.g. psychology), making their research in this arena dubious at best (Bessière, Seay, and Kiesler 2007; Levene and Dickins 2008; Longman et al. 2009). You cannot study World of Warcraft or Second Life from the sidelines anymore than you can understand the Cuckoo Nest through Nurse Ratched’s eyes; better that you become the inmate if you want to truly understand virtual behavior. It is imperative to become fully immersed in these fictive worlds to study them. Researchers need to develop a fully competent understanding of what virtuality and materiality mean to fully understand these worlds. As Whitehead (this volume) states, such concerns over human behavior pose a major challenge for anthropology today and a need for us to reflect on how we are, in fact, posthuman.

Do people online in virtual environments emulate the world of Jake Sully in Avatar, spending inordinate amounts of time online in the pursuit of virtual existence, happiness, and fulfillment? The answer for some is yes; indeed, this is the world they have embraced and the kind of posthuman experience that typifies their daily world. Desires fuel motivations for entering virtual environments like World of Warcraft and Second Life, and imagination, aided by computer-mediated technology, transforms the body through disembodiment and re-embodiment into avatar form. All of this is not fictive, however, or even fictional fantasy, because the emotions, passions, and feelings that result from the interaction with others in virtual worlds while undertaking virtual activities are drawn back into real-life awareness, enjoyment, and perception.