Most people define democracy as freedom, but this is only partly correct. True democracy isn’t the freedom to do anything but rather a structure built on core values. The strength and presence of these values determine whether a state can truly be called democratic.
In my work, these values are represented by words embedded in keyboard letters. The selection of values is inspired by the Democracy Index from the Economist Intelligence Unit. These 12 values include:
Transparency, Press Freedom, Trust, Tolerance, Equality, Free Speech, Civil Rights, Literacy, Personal Freedom, Security, Fair Elections, and Human Rights.
In transitional democracies, political powers often alter these values, shifting them to meet other agendas, sometimes justified as “protective” measures. However, even when such changes appear necessary, a reduction in citizens’ rights often signals a weakening of democracy. Leaders in some states manufacture invisible threats, allegedly to protect the public. They then justify restrictions on the press, limit free speech, and erode civil rights. These changes may take decades to accumulate, gradually transforming a society towards authoritarian control. By the time citizens become fully aware of what’s happening, it’s often too late to reverse the process peacefully.
In this piece, I explore the systematic erosion of democratic values. Around each core word, additional keys—such as DELETE, CONTROL, and SHIFT—suggest how these values can be transformed or distorted. While viewers may see only democracy’s core principles on the surface, the hidden functions around them reveal a darker undercurrent: democracy under manipulation.
The title of the work, The Human, reflects the transformation of society in the digital age. The robot figure, made from computer parts, spews keyboard letters as a metaphor for how technology influences our understanding and engagement with democratic values. This figure hints not only at humanity’s potential loss of agency but also at the ways technology shapes our perceptions of freedom and rights.
The online world, though new and fast-evolving, has already become a fundamental part of civilisation. However, it has also created an unprecedented generation gap. In the realm of information technology, the top experts aren’t always those with formal degrees. This distinction is often invisible to the average user, who may not understand the extent to which technology has reshaped the world.
In relation to democracy, politics and companies alike now recognise that people are informed—and often influenced—online. Unlike traditional media, online interactions are a two-way street; digital platforms gather data on our age, gender, interests, and more. Everything we see online is personalised—news, ads, and even our social feeds. This customisation can create a distorted reality, as we all construct individual versions of the world based on what we search and consume. If I can infer the interests of my online friends from public posts, how much more insight must providers—and possibly even governments—have about us?
This piece, represented by the robot, is a call to reflect on humanity’s relationship with technology. We must recognise what remains to be improved and better understood to ensure our values are not “reprogrammed” by the systems we use.
Art practice
Exhibition in Surface Gallery
‘Our ever-evolving definition of nature perpetuates the unattainability of arcadia. In the same way that a bird’s nest is a technology employed by birds to protect their young, our own technologies can become naturalized if our perception of it allows us to consider it as a nature. Here we present artefacts from a multiverse that explores different timelines of lost civilisations or environments, all attempting to reach an arcadia of their own design. These arcadias are a reflection of the individual artist’s interests in ideas of utopia and dystopia, relating to science-fictional worlds, digital landscapes or reflecting on modern society.’
Exhibition setup
Plaque of exhibited artwork
