Teeing Off On Panopticism

During lecture and discussion on Chapter 3 of the Cartwright-Sturken textbook, Foucault’s “panopticon” metaphor was brought forth. This idea, derived from sociologist Jeremy Bentham's “panopticon” design of a prison, where in a guard tower is strategically placed in the center of a prison so that a guard placed in the tower can observe any prisoner at any time, but never vice-versa, is that people behave accordingly without any knowledge or evidence of being surveilled. An example of this in class was the “Homer, Lisa and the 10 Commandments” episode of the Simpsons, wherein Lisa, taking the commandment “thou shalt not steal” to heart, feels guilty about Homer using a black box to get free cable television service. A prime example of the panopticon that I put forward is the game of golf. It is a game traditionally played by the affluent members of society who are expected to conduct themselves as proper ladies and gentlemen.

Golf, a game as old as its traditional participants are wealthy, remains to this day a unique sport due to the traditional way it is conducted. For the over ninety-nine percent of competitive participants who don’t play on television, it is a game where participants are expected to govern themselves accordingly, or in some cases, themselves and a playing partner (usually under the official United States Golf Association’s Rules Of Golf): everything from knowing where and how you can play your ball, to even assessing yourself a penalty of a stroke or more. Ordinarily, especially during competitive play, there are a handful of course rangers or rules officials who drive around the course, usually stopping at higher elevation points on the course or parked in a rather foliage-thick area, to both provide shade and concealment from any ill-intended competitors who seek to take advantage of their situation on the course.

Having played the game competitively myself and with others a number of times, I have run into this struggle on occasion. The desire to post a lower score or to benefit a team oftentimes clashes with the wanting to be an honest and ethical competitor. Upon the moment of beneficial alteration of one’s situation on the course, there is always that signature three-hundred and sixty degree gaze to make sure no one is watching. The possibility of someone discovering the cheating act and the player being labeled with the stigma of a “cheater” is oftentimes too thick of a cloud to escape. It is this fear of discovery that not only keeps Lisa Simpson and prison guards in line, but virtually all people in any structured environment.

Of course, there are ends of the spectrum. These include those who unabashedly cheat while participating in the game (doing whatever it takes to post a lower score), and yet those who carry a copy of the rule book in their golf bag with the objective of playing by rules in the strictest manner, and expecting any playing partner to conduct themselves likewise. These represent vastly different reactions to Foucault's idea of panopticism. One is driven to the most rigid obedience of the rules while the other is driven to disregard authority in exchange for benefit of their score.

Panopticism in the game of golf is a factor that has remained a staple in the game as long as the golf club, golf ball and hole. It is a fascinating glance into a person’s moral fiber, at least in approaching a game that has the potential to be as rewarding as it usually is maddening. There is the age old question: if you just hit a ball in the water - and no one was watching - did it just happen?