Digital Communities

So week twelve's lecture covered crowdsourcing in times of crisis, and it completely changed how I think about those "share this post" moments during disasters.

First off, crowdsourcing is not a new idea. People have been pooling collective brainpower for centuries, the lecture mentioned the 1714 Longitude Prize, where the British government basically crowdsourced a way to calculate longitude at sea, and the Oxford English Dictionary, which relied on around 800 volunteer readers to help catalogue words back in 1884. So "ask the internet" energy has genuinely old roots.

The modern version is obviously powered by social media. A major review of research from 2008 to 2023 found that social media and crowdsourcing tools are increasingly used to support disaster risk management, with most existing research focusing on disaster preparedness and response activities (Nielsen, 2024).

One big example that came up was Ushahidi, a platform that combines SMS, social media, and web updates into a single crowdsourced map of what's happening during a crisis. It was set up just two hours after the 2010 Haiti earthquake and generated over 2,500 incident reports within two weeks, helping relief organisations share information quickly. Pretty wild that a volunteer-built tool could move that fast.

But it's not all smooth sailing, verification is a massive issue. When everyone with a phone is a potential reporter, how do you separate real, urgent information from rumours or outright misinformation? During the 2023 Turkey-Syria earthquakes, fact-checkers found a wave of irrelevant or fake photos and videos circulating online, including a falsely captioned video claiming a nuclear plant had exploded (Annie Lab, 2024). Even worse, Turkey's government briefly blocked access to Twitter during the rescue effort, citing the spread of disinformation, while also arresting dozens of people for "provocative" posts about the disaster response, which is a genuinely scary example of governments using "misinformation" as a reason to cut off the exact platform people were using to find trapped loved ones.

This connects to the bigger tension the lecture raised: traditional emergency services rely on linear, authorised information flows, but disaster footage and crowdsourced reports now circulate globally before official responders even arrive. So how do you integrate something as fast and messy as social media into systems built for control and verification?

Big takeaway: crowdsourcing during crises is incredibly powerful for visibility, witnessing, and rapid response, but it also raises real questions about trust, verification, and who gets to control the narrative when it matters most.

Anyway, going to go appreciate the fact that my biggest crisis today is deciding what to have for dinner, bye.

References

Annie Lab. (2024). An array of misinformation about earthquakes in Turkey. https://annielab.org/2023/03/24/analysis-an-array-of-misinformation-about-earthquakes-in-turkey/

Quick heads up before we get into it: this post talks about online harassment and abuse, so take care of yourselves and skip if it's not a good day for that kind of content.

So week eleven's lecture was about digital citizenship, conflict, and how social media is actually governed (spoiler: it's complicated and kind of a mess).

First, governance. Who actually "controls" social media? Turns out it's this messy overlap of commercial interests (the platforms and brands themselves), public sector research, industry standards bodies, and individual governments, all of whom have different rules and priorities. And it's not just big international laws either, governance also happens at the micro level, like how a single Facebook group or subreddit is run by volunteer moderators.

Then we got into online harassment, and honestly this is where it got heavy. Harassment covers a huge range of behaviours: being called names, threatened, sexually harassed, impersonated, having rumours spread about you, or having someone try to hurt you offline after targeting you online. And it's often not random or "just one bad apple", a lot of harassment is networked, meaning it's coordinated and organised, with tactics like doxing and image-based abuse refined during things like Gamergate.

The research on who gets targeted is sobering. Between 2013 and 2023, the share of girls and women aged 11 to 21 who experienced unkind online comments rose from 40% to 51% (Statista, 2024). And it's not just frequency that differs by gender, research has found that women consistently rate online harassment as more harmful than men do, and more strongly support things like bans and legal action in response (Freeman et al., 2023).

On the legal side, Australia's Online Safety Act 2021 was a pretty big deal, it lets the government compel platforms to remove seriously harmful content (including image-based abuse and child cyberbullying) within 24 hours of a formal notice. But legal remedies aren't the only tool. Platforms have started reporting their own enforcement numbers too, X suspended 1 million accounts and removed 2.2 million posts for abuse and hate speech in early 2024 alone, while Snapchat reported 6.6 million bullying and harassment cases in the first half of 2023.

Other approaches include using humour to call out harassment (comedians like Hannah Gadsby and Amy Schumer), advocacy bodies like Australia's eSafety Commissioner, and pressure on brands to actually support the influencers and creators they work with when trolling happens, not just leave them to deal with it alone.

Big takeaway: digital communities aren't automatically "good" or inclusive, conflict online often reveals who actually holds power, over speech, platforms, and resources. And the burden of that conflict falls disproportionately on women and gender-diverse people.

Anyway, going to go hug my dog and touch grass for a bit, bye.

References

Freeman, G., Zamanifard, S., & Acena, D. (2023). Online harassment in majority contexts: Examining harms and remedies across countries. ResearchGate. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/370180304_Online_Harassment_in_Majority_Contexts_Examining_Harms_and_Remedies_across_Countries

Statista. (2024). Gendered abuse online – statistics & facts. https://www.statista.com/topics/9384/gendered-abuse-online/

Verma, R. (2025). Safeguarding women in digital spaces: Legal responses to cyber harassment and objectification on social media. Development Policy Review. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/dpr.70039

So week ten's lecture was all about gaming communities, social gaming, and live streaming, and honestly it explained so much about why I've spent more time in Discord voice calls than actual phone calls this year.

First up, what even is a game? There's this classic definition that playing a game is basically the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles, like, we choose to make life harder for ourselves for fun (Suits, 1978, as cited in lecture slides). Iconic behaviour honestly.

Games culture has historically been pretty narrow, the "typical gamer" gets imagined as young, white or East Asian, middle-class, and male, which has shaped a pretty masculine-dominated space. Despite women and girls making up an estimated 40 to 60 percent of gaming participants across all platforms, the culture is still rife with harassment, exclusionary practices, and access discrimination for people who aren't part of the "default" gamer image (Smith & Jones, 2025). And the numbers get even starker at the competitive level: in the 2022 to 2023 academic year, around 90% of intercollegiate and professional esports participants identified as men.

Then there's the whole social games thing, think FarmVille and Words With Friends, games that basically hijack your friend list to keep you (and your friends) playing. Exploded in the late 2000s/early 2010s and honestly kind of invented the "your friend just sent you a cow" era of the internet.

The lecture also got into streaming, which is now a massive industry. Twitch, YouTube Gaming, and similar platforms aren't just about watching someone play, they're about community. Research has found that viewers who feel a parasocial connection with a streamer, basically a one-sided sense of closeness, also tend to feel a stronger sense of community around that streamer (Daniel et al., 2023). Which honestly tracks, because half my "friends" are people whose voices I recognise but whose faces I've never seen.

Then there's "knowledge communities," voluntary, shifting groups that form around shared interest and knowledge exchange (think wikis, fan forums, modding communities). Modding especially stood out to me, modders aren't just consumers, they actively shape and demand new features for the games they love.

Big takeaway: gaming "communities" aren't one big monolith, they're an assemblage of smaller communities people flow between depending on what they need, whether that's competition, comfort, or just someone to scream about a boss fight with.

Anyway, going to go check if my Stardew Valley farm needs watering, bye.

References

Daniel, E. S., Orme, S., & Ferchaud, A. (2023). Why can't we be friends (with streamers): Content creators and streamer/viewer parasocial relationships. Social Media + Society. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/365860294_How_Parasocial_Phenomena_Contribute_to_Sense_of_Community_on_Twitch

So week nine's lecture was about AR filters and honestly it made me look at my camera roll very differently.

AR (Augmented Reality) filters work by layering virtual things onto the real world through your camera, think dog ears, sparkles, or that smoothing effect that magically erases your pores. They've been around since the 1960s but really exploded after Snapchat and Pokémon Go in 2016.

Here's the twist though, we think of filters as "removing" bad stuff (like a coffee filter blocking grounds), but really they're adding stuff too, new skin texture, new face shapes, new "flavours" we didn't ask for. It's less about subtraction and more about quietly rewriting the image.

The lecture focused heavily on beauty and "surgery" filters, which are apparently some of the most popular ones on Instagram and Snapchat. And they're not neutral. Research has found that recommender systems on platforms like Instagram actually promote facial homogeneity among the most recommended influencers, and exposure to this kind of facial sameness has been linked to lower body image in young women (Smith et al., 2024).

And it gets wilder. There's a term called "Snapchat dysmorphia" (also called "filter dysmorphia") where people bring filtered selfies of themselves, not celebrities, to cosmetic surgeons as their reference photo. Researchers describe filter dysmorphia as a possible branch of body dysmorphic disorder, where patients already preoccupied with their appearance use idealised beauty filters and then come to believe cosmetic procedures can make them look like their filtered selves (Sadati et al., 2023). And the stats back it up: a 2021 survey by the American Academy of Facial Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery found 75% of surgeons reported patients seeking procedures specifically to look better in selfies, up 18% since 2018.

There's also the whole "Instagram face" thing, that eerily similar look with big eyes, plump lips, sharp cheekbones, "ethnically ambiguous" but somehow always centring the same narrow beauty ideal. Studies analysing popular Instagram beauty filters have found that the beautification process homogenises faces, making them more similar to each other, while preserving the same underlying canon of beauty (Pena et al., 2022).

What stuck with me most is the idea of "technological empowerment" versus just... repackaged pressure. Are filters a fun way to explore identity, or just a shortcut into the same old impossible beauty standard with extra steps? Asking for a friend (me).

Anyway. Going to go squint at my selfies and wonder what's "real" now, bye.

References

Pena, A., Morales, A., Fierrez, J., Serna, I., Ortega-Garcia, J., Puente, Í., Cordova, J., & Cordova, G. (2022). Racial bias in the beautyverse. arXiv. https://arxiv.org/pdf/2209.13939

Sadati, M. S., Mokmeli, S., & Vasigh, M. (2023). "Filter dysmorphia": An emerging phenomenon in cosmetic dermatology. Journal of Cosmetic Dermatology, 22(2), 412–413. https://doi.org/10.1111/jocd.15483

Smith, R., Wang, P., Salge, C., & Shin, B. (2024). Instagram face and the algorithm: How popularity-integrated recommender systems homogenize beauty standards and lower user well-being. SSRN. https://ssrn.com/abstract=4964322

okay so this week's lecture broke my brain a little (in a good way??) so let me ramble. 🧵

We talked about "aesthetic templates", basically the unspoken rulebook for how you're supposed to pose, dress, edit and present yourself on Instagram to look attractive/successful. The lip pout, the hip tilt, the jawline shot, the "candid" mirror selfie that took 47 tries. you know the ones.

it's tied to "microcelebrity", regular people turning themselves into a brand for visibility, often doing this unpaid promo work without even realising it. Recent research on micro-influencer marketing has found that followers' pursuit of self-branding is driven by self-consciousness, social consciousness, credibility and a sense of social presence (Chen et al., 2024). Honestly, dystopian when you say it out loud.

Then the gendered side: women get pushed toward a hyper-sexualised "porn chic" look — yep, "pornification" is a real academic term, while men get the strong jaw, dominant athletic vibe. and the body image stakes are real: a 2023 Flinders University study found that viewing sexualised influencer content increases negative mood and body dissatisfaction in young women, with researchers calling for stronger regulation of influencer advertising (Prichard et al., 2023).

And for queer men specifically? Using more "feminine" pornified poses gets way less mainstream reach because of how the algorithm favours heteronormative content. Duffy and Meisner (2023) interviewed 30 social media creators from marginalised and stigmatised backgrounds about their experiences with algorithmic (in)visibility, finding that groups like trans creators often self-censor just to stay visible.

The public health angle, constantly comparing your real body to these "templates" can fuel body dysmorphia and push people toward cosmetic procedures, since no surgery closes the gap between online-you and offline-you. A 2024 systematic review found social media's emphasis on visual aesthetics fosters body dissatisfaction and appearance anxiety, with growing acceptance of cosmetic surgery as a result (Alkhalaf et al., 2024). nih

Big takeaway: this isn't an individual problem, it's systemic. maybe think twice before reposting that "glow up" content 👀

Going to go stare at my camera roll and have an existential crisis now, bye!

References

Alkhalaf, Z., et al. (2024). Social media influence on body image and cosmetic surgery considerations: A systematic review. Cureus. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC11350482/

Chen, J., Zhang, Y., Cai, H., Liu, L., Liao, M., & Fang, J. (2024). A comprehensive overview of micro-influencer marketing: Decoding the current landscape, impacts, and trends. Behavioral Sciences, 14(3), 243. https://doi.org/10.3390/bs14030243

Duffy, B. E., & Meisner, C. (2023). Platform governance at the margins: Social media creators' experiences with algorithmic (in)visibility. Media, Culture & Society, 45(2), 285–304. https://doi.org/10.1177/01634437221111923

We've all been there, buying a RM20 top from Shein, wearing it twice, and then watching it fall apart in the wash. That's fast fashion doing exactly what it was designed to do. Week 7 introduced us to slow fashion as both a movement and a digital citizenship issue, and honestly? It hits different when you see the numbers.

The global fashion industry produces 10% of the world's carbon emissions, more than international flights and maritime shipping combined. The textile industry also contributes up to 20% of global industrial water pollution (lecture slides, 2026). And brands like Burberry and H&M have literally been caught burning unsold clothes just to protect their brand image. This is not sustainable. This is not okay.

So what is slow fashion exactly?

Slow fashion is the direct opposite of fast fashion. Instead of cheap, disposable, trend-chasing clothing, it prioritises quality, ethical labour, environmental responsibility, and long-term relationships across the supply chain (lecture slides, 2026). It's linked to eco fashion, sustainable fashion, thrifting, and circular fashion all different names pointing to the same idea: consume less, consume better.

Where does digital citizenship come in?

This is where it gets interesting. Social media has turned everyday consumers into slow fashion advocates. Ariestya et al. (2024) studied slow fashion communication on Instagram in Indonesia and Malaysia and found that educational, rational content, sharing information about sustainable lifestyles is the most effective strategy for shifting consumer awareness and behaviour online. Influencers like Venetia La Manna and Tiffany Ferguson have built entire digital communities around these values.

In Malaysia, the slow fashion scene is genuinely growing. Brands like Biji Biji upcycle discarded materials into fashion accessories, and Kloth Circularity has over 350 textile recycling bins across the country diverting fabrics from landfill one donation at a time (Onn, 2023). Skinner (2023) found that sustainable fashion hashtag communities on Instagram actively connect like-minded consumers, creating real digital publics around shared environmental values.

Being a digital citizen means using your online presence responsibly and choosing to share, support, and shop slow fashion is exactly that.

References

Ariestya, A., Koudelkova, P., Stephani, N., Elmada, M. A. G., & Dube, B. (2024). Slow fashion communication on social media: Educating consumers through rational content in Indonesia and Malaysia. Plaridel, 21(1), 267–288. https://doi.org/10.52518/2024-02arstya

Onn, N. (2023, April 7). The state of sustainable fashion in Malaysia. FASHINFIDELITY. https://fashinfidelity.com/the-state-of-sustainable-fashion-in-malaysia/

You follow the news. You share petitions. You've subtweeted a politician. Congrats — you're participating in digital citizenship. But what does that actually mean, and why does it matter?

Week 6 broke down digital citizenship, basically how people use the internet responsibly and ethically to participate in society. It's not just about avoiding scams or not cyberbullying (though yes, those too). Suing et al. (2024) define digital citizenship as people's participation in managing their rights and civic engagements online but they also point out that definitions often clash with reality due to limited digital literacy skills and unequal access to technology. So being a digital citizen isn't as simple as just being online.

It covers six key elements: contributing positively online, political participation, activism outside elections, responsible social media use, ethical behaviour, and having the skills and access to use digital tools. In Malaysia, this is actively guided by MCMC's Klik Dengan Bijak campaign, which promotes safe and responsible internet use nationwide (Malaysian Communications and Multimedia Commission [MCMC], 2024).

Platforms aren't neutral — that's where platformisation comes in.

Platformisation describes how digital platforms have become so embedded in daily life that they now dominate public discourse, shape access to information, and influence political content (Fischer & Jarren, 2024). In other words, when TikTok or Instagram decides what you see, they're not just running an app, they're shaping what society thinks and talks about. Fischer and Jarren (2024) warn that journalistic values relevant to democracy are being replaced by platform-driven, attention-seeking business models. That's a serious problem.

And then there's hashtag activism.

Hashtags like #BlackLivesMatter, #MeToo, and #ClimateChange don't just organise content — they build communities. Theocharis et al. (2023) found that social media has reshaped political engagement entirely — sharing petitions, following political figures, commenting, forwarding news — these are now all legitimate forms of political participation. Political engagement is shifting from long-term party membership to flexible, issue-based action online.

Being online IS being a citizen now. The question is what kind.

References: Fischer, R., & Jarren, O. (2024). The platformization of the public sphere and its challenge to democracy. Philosophy & Social Criticism, 50(1), 200–215.https://doi.org/10.1177/01914537231203535

Malaysian Communications and Multimedia Commission (MCMC). (2024). Klik dengan bijak. https://www.komunikasi.gov.my/en/program-semasa/23446-klik-dengan-bijak-main-peranan-penting-pastikan-keselamatan-rakyat-malaysia-terjamin-semasa-berada-di-dalam-talian

Suing, A., Alarcon-Llontop, L.-R., & Bizberge, A. (2024). Appreciations and practices of digital citizenship in the Andean community. Frontiers in Communication, 9, Article 1336528. https://doi.org/10.3389/fcomm.2024.1336528

Okay so we all know someone (maybe it's us) who says "I don't watch reality TV" but then somehow knows everything about every MAFS season. And according to Week 5's lecture, that guilty pleasure is actually doing something sociologically significant.

Here's the thing, reality TV is the most hated and most watched genre at the same time. Studies show that nearly half of viewers hold an unfavourable view of it, yet it consistently wins ratings. Lindemann (2022) argues this contradiction reveals something deeper. Reality TV taps into real social anxieties about fame, class, gender, and who gets to be visible in public life. That paradox alone tells you something interesting is happening.

So why does it matter academically?

Reality TV creates what we've been calling digital publics. When you're in a heated Twitter/X thread about whether someone on Survivor deserved to get voted out, you're not just gossiping, you're participating in public discourse. Ngcongo (2024) studied the #DateMyFamily hashtag community and found that these spaces reflect genuine cultural values, norms, and social attitudes, things like gender roles, race, and relationships all get debated through the lens of who behaved badly on a dating show.

Two things are happening simultaneously:

🎬 Multiplatform expansion — Reality TV no longer lives just on TV. Stars are incentivised to generate their own content across Instagram, TikTok, and podcasts, extending drama well beyond the episode. As Ngcongo (2024) notes, social media affordances allow audiences to form virtual communities that exist and thrive entirely outside the broadcast itself.

💬 Digital publics for political talk — Fan engagement with reality TV has become as much a part of the entertainment as the show itself, and that engagement often crosses into real social commentary about power, privilege, and everyday life (Lindemann, 2022).

Tumblr communities, #MAFS threads, #RuPaul debates — these are not just fandoms. They are digital publics where everyday political and social conversations happen, often without people even realising it.

Reality TV is low-key one of the most interesting things to study in media right now.

References

Lindemann, D. (2022). True story: What reality TV says about us. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Before you say anything, yes, Tumblr is still relevant. And yes, we studied it this week. And honestly? It makes total sense why.

Tumblr launched in 2007 as a microblogging platform with short posts, images, GIFs, videos, links, basically a creative diary that anyone could stumble onto. It sits somewhere between a personal blog and a social network, and that in-between space is exactly what makes it interesting.

Here's what sets Tumblr apart from every other platform:

✨ Reblogging — instead of just sharing, you reblog and add your own thoughts. Ideas travel across communities while crediting the original creator. Bussoletti (2022) found this is how Tumblr fandom communities stay connected globally even across language barriers.

🎭 Anonymity — no real name required. This one feature changes everything. People feel safer to express opinions, explore identity, and be weird without it following them on LinkedIn.

🏳️‍🌈 Identity exploration — Tumblr has historically been a safe space for LGBTQ+ youth, feminist communities, and marginalized groups to find community and information (Prins, 2025). It's not just content, it's belonging.

🎨 Creative culture — memes, fan art, personal essays, niche obsessions. Tumblr rewards authenticity and creativity over follower counts or viral metrics. Refreshing, honestly.

Academically, Tumblr matters because it shows us how platform design shapes community behavior. Its anonymity, reblogging system, and lack of a heavy-handed algorithm create a very different kind of digital public compared to TikTok or Instagram.

Basically, Tumblr is the introvert of social media platforms. Quietly doing its thing, deeply misunderstood, and more interesting than people give it credit for.

References

Hot take from this week's reading: the internet did NOT completely revolutionise society. I know. Controversial.

Ralph Schroeder's Social Theory after the Internet (2018) basically argues that scholars have been overcomplicating and over-hyping what the internet actually does. Here's the breakdown.

The problem? Most communication theories were built for either mass media (TV, newspapers — one to many) or interpersonal media (phone calls — one to one). The internet does BOTH simultaneously, so old theories just… don't fit anymore (Schroeder, 2018).

Schroeder looks at three big theories and explains why each falls short:

Castells' network theory — ignores how different countries (China, Sweden, Malaysia) have completely different media systems.

Mediatization theory — useful but too vague; doesn't distinguish between politics, culture, and the economy.

Actor-network theory — so focused on individual contexts that you can't generalize anything useful.

Instead, Schroeder (2018) proposes we look at the internet's role across three separate social orders:

🏛️ Politics — the internet lets leaders bypass traditional media gatekeepers (hello, politicians going live on TikTok), but it also fuels populism and disinformation. Dobber et al. (2022) found that micro-targeted political ads online can directly influence how people vote. Scary.

📱 Culture & Everyday Life — Schroeder (2018) calls this "tethered togetherness", we are constantly connected to people and information via our phones. Not revolutionary, just… more intense. The anxiety of leaving your phone at home? That's tethered togetherness.

💰 Economy — big data allows companies to target us with disturbing precision. Every ad that feels like your phone was listening? That's the economic internet at work.

The key takeaway: the internet intensifies existing social patterns, it doesn't replace them. It's a powerful tool shaped by the society it operates in.

References

Dobber, T., Fathaigh, R. Ó., & Borgesius, F. J. Z. (2022). The regulation of online political micro-targeting in Europe. Internet Policy Review, 11(1). https://doi.org/10.14763/2022.1.1614

Schroeder, R. (2018). Social theory after the internet: Media, technology and globalization. UCL Press. https://doi.org/10.14324/111.9781787351226

You ever scroll TikTok for "5 minutes" and suddenly it's 2am? Yeah. There's actually a whole field of social theory dedicated to explaining why that happens and what it means for society.

Week 2 lecture introduced us to social theory as a tool to understand how power, behavior, and communities work online. Think of it as the glasses that help you actually see what's going on beneath the surface of your For You Page.

Here are the theorists you genuinely need to know:

Rheingold said online communities create real social bonds, no physical presence needed. Reddit users raising money for strangers? That's his whole point.

Castells argued modern society runs on digital networks, information and power flow through them globally and instantly. One viral tweet can shift a news cycle. That's network society.

Danah Boyd introduced "networked publics", social media spaces that are shaped by the platform's own design. TikTok's algorithm decides what kind of "public" you're even part of (Ojala & Ripatti-Torniainen, 2024).

Henry Jenkins gave us participatory culture, users aren't just consumers, they're creators. Every meme you've remixed? That's participatory culture in action.

Axel Bruns called it produsage, you produce AND consume at the same time. Wikipedia editors and TikTok creators who also doom-scroll. That's all of us (O'Boyle, 2022).

Papacharissi pointed out that online spaces blur public and private life. Posting your 3am thoughts publicly? She predicted that.

Now here's the big question, is social media actually a public sphere where everyone can speak freely? Spoiler: not really. Surveillance, unequal access, and corporate algorithms all get in the way (Staab & Thiel, 2022). Especially in Malaysia, where social media shaped the GE15 election but also spread disinformation (Tapsell, 2023).

Social theory isn't just for textbooks. It explains your entire online life.

References

O'Boyle, N. (2022). Produsers: New media audiences and the paradoxes of participatory culture. In Communication theory for humans (pp. 175–204). Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-02450-4_7

Ojala, M., & Ripatti-Torniainen, L. (2024). Where is the public of "networked publics"? European Journal of Communication, 39(1), 3–18. https://doi.org/10.1177/02673231231210207

Staab, P., & Thiel, T. (2022). Social media and the digital structural transformation of the public sphere. Theory, Culture & Society, 39(4), 1–19. https://doi.org/10.1177/02632764221103527