Ephemera: What's lost without keeping?
Digitalization's Impact on The Keepsake of Culture
Lucy Murrey (Nov 2024)
1. Introduction: Perpetual Memory
During recent stays in New York City, I was confronted with the end of an era: goodbye, my MetroCard; hello, ontological OMNY. The digitized system represents a delayed but inevitable adoption to the method through which many aspects of life are now mediated: the tap of a screen. Undoubtedly more efficient than the print version, my disappointment was hard to explain. The purpose of this zine, in essence, is to try.
Much of everyday media has now transcended the physical realm—from as ordinary as metro tickets to as encompassing as news, entertainment, and pop culture. Last year, Best Buy announced they would no longer stock their shelves with physical media—a final blow to an already fargone phasing-out of DVD, CD, VHS, and all other antiquated acronyms that once stood for media as a real commodity. By and large, society is on board with the digital revolution, as digitalization renders many aspects of life cheaper, faster, and more convenient. But, at what cost?
For some, especially collectors like myself, physical media are symbols of individual and shared experiences that, once digitized, can feel diluted or even disposable. For us, the disappearance of physical artifacts signifies more than just a shift in medium—it represents a loss of tangible connection, diminishment of personal control, and devaluation of history. Meanwhile, digitalization challenges the basic need for physicality, individual ownership or personal memory. In eliminating the constraints of physicality, digital media proposes a different vision of culture—an enduring, participatory realm—where former representations of value and identity no longer resonate.
This zine explores how the digitalization of everyday media or ephemera reshapes our relationship to culture. Confronting an ephemeral digital world—where cultural memory feels both perpetual and nonexistent—this discussion extends beyond personal collections, addressing the broader preservation of culture. This investigation critically analyzes how digitalization naturalizes cultural ephemerality, and ultimately suggests that an appreciation of physical artifacts can foster a culture of more lasting significance.
1.2. Context: Ephemeral Culture
The term “ephemera” captures a pertinent paradox in modern culture: How do we value what is inherently transitory? Derived from the Greek word ephemeros, meaning “lasting only a day,” ephemera literally describes transient prints intended for brief use, such as bills, tickets, cards, flyers, posters, or packaging labels (The World of Ephemera 2024). By the mid-19th century, the term “ephemeral” came to generically refer to print items (Garner 2021, p.245). Conceptually, ephemera reflects broader ideas encompassing “the passing of time, persistence of change, and the philosophically ultimate vision of our own existence” (Roylance 1976, p.104).
For collectors, ephemera’s capacity to capture the fleeting nature of everyday culture is what warrants their preservation. Through personal attachment, these artifacts transform from transient objects into ones of enduring significance. As archivist Rick Prelinger notes, when ephemera are preserved and valued, they are no longer considered ephemeral (Heideger and Vonderau 2009, p.51). This exemplifies how the practice of collecting is a cultural act with a particular ability for creating value. Through collection, the worth of an artifact transcends its functional purpose, becoming “talismanic,” akin to a “modern-day oracle” (Martin 2011, p.2). Scholars describe the collector’s bond with these objects as sacred, elevating them from the “secular world of mundane, ordinary commodity” (Belk 1988 via Pearce 1995, p.24). In this way, as Pearce observes, “the sacredness of collection becomes a kind of immortality” (Pearce 1995, p.26).
Today, printed ephemera increasingly exist only digitally (Deutch 2016). In fact, the whole of the internet can be seen as ephemeral, with its vast amount of fleeting images and information, vulnerable to change or deletion (Stone 1998). Where the collection of physical ephemera once allowed it to transcend its ordinariness, imbuing it with value, digital ephemera does not inspire such sacrifice—instead valued for their utility (Petrelli and Whittaker 2010). Unlike physical objects, digital ephemera are boundless, taking on lesser value due to their ease of reproduction and sharing (Atasoy 2018). Like collection, digitalization immortalizes everyday culture, but with the opposite effect of rendering it more mundane.
This shift represents a new relationship with culture focused not on safeguarding its artifacts but experiencing their transience—marking the “imminent end of a phenomenon that began with the 16th Century Curiosity Cabinet: that of collecting material objects as a means for comprehending the world” (Robertson and Meadow 2000 via Martin 2011, p.12). As digital media replicates and displaces physical artifacts, cultural matter becomes increasingly conceptual—driven by ideas, symbols, and experiences in abstract or evanescent forms which, to be discussed in the following sections, can be more difficult to personally value and remember.
2. Constructs of Value
Although society has quickly become digital-first, many of us recognize there remains something to be said for the physical—the question is, what? Upon closer examination, it becomes evident that many of the reasons we come to value physical artifacts (i.e., materiality, ownership, and scarcity) are lost in digital translation, fundamentally differing from the reasons we value digital artifacts.
2.1. Materiality / Metaphysicality
The most obvious distinction between physical and digital ephemera is materiality. Researcher Anastasia Varnalis-Weigle describes materiality as the ability of physical objects to “elicit experiential, meaningful, and affective responses” which comprise an artifact’s authenticity or “reality” (Varnalis-Weigle 2016, p.17). This authenticity allows physical artifacts to act as talismanic symbols—transcending functional value to embody esoteric or sentimental significance (Petrelli and Whittaker 2010). The permanence of physical artifacts reify and contextualize an individual’s existence, enabling them to “marshal, harness, and conjure up the past as a renewal of the collector's own world” (Martin 2011, p.2). Summarized by Kirk and Sellen, theorists agree that “artifacts of sentimental value are used to mediate both our actual and articulated memories of the past” (Kirk and Sellen 2010, p.1).
In contrast, digital artifacts are typically seen as unstable and ephemeral (Atasoy and Morewedge 2018). This perception of digital ephemera is rooted in their mutability—digital media can be endlessly edited, reprogrammed, and redistributed, giving them an “ambivalent ontology” (Kallinikos et al. 2013). Without the permanence of their physical counterparts, digital artifacts often lack the same inherent value of authenticity (Varnalis-Weigle 2016). Instead, they are viewed as representational “quasi-objects” and fail to transcend their utilitarian function (Kallinikos et al. 2013, p. 358). It is for this reason that a physical concert ticket may hold sentimental value, while a digital version lacks the same resonance. Theories like Heidegger’s Gestell critique this representational quality of digital media, suggesting they transform reality into artifice in making representation the dominant mode of experience (Emmelhainz 2021). Rather than invoking permanence or inherent authenticity, the value of digital artifacts is contingent upon dynamic and mutable relations within ever-shifting networks of meaning.
2.2. Ownership / Access
Underpinning this distinction is the concept of psychological ownership—an essential factor influencing the value of physical goods, which has been profoundly altered in the digital era. Physical goods can be literally possessed, offering a sense of control; this perceived control establishes a “possession-self link,” whereby the object becomes incorporated into the self-concept (Atasoy and Morewedge 2018, p.7). This dynamic underscores the deep relationship between ownership and identity, where physical belongings have historically played a critical role in shaping self-concept (Jarrett 2013).
Digital artifacts, by contrast, are accessed rather than owned. Instead of purchasing individual movies or albums, for example, audiences now subscribe to streaming platforms. On one hand, this shift increases consumer value by embracing convenience, affordability, and expanded access to vast content libraries at a lower cost than individual ownership. However, as access expands, the perceived value of individual pieces of media often diminishes. The focus shifts from the unique qualities of specific works to the sheer volume of content available, making the whole greater than the sum of its parts.
Research shows that digital goods are ascribed lower value than physical goods even prior to acquisition, largely because they lack the capacity for psychological ownership that physical objects provide (Atasoy and Morewedge 2018). The same research suggests that when ownership is not expected—such as with rented or streamed goods—the psychological ownership and, consequently, the perceived value of the good is significantly reduced (Atasoy and Morewedge 2018). A study by Cushing (2012) found that younger participants regard their digital possessions as extensions of themselves, but with the understanding that these possessions lack the permanence or self-affirming value of physical items. Over time, this weakened attachment may foster a culture where the emphasis on breadth and access overshadows the cultural and emotional significance of individual media objects. This shift in perceived value is not only a psychological phenomenon but also has real-world consequences, particularly in how creators are compensated for their work.
The struggle to fairly compensate creators within this access-driven model has defined much of the streaming industry. Just last year, a historic dual strike by the WGA and SAG-AFTRA stalled Hollywood for over four months, in protest of how the growth of streaming has led to a significant reduction in average residuals, leading to a net loss of real income for many working creatives (National Research Group 2023). In the streaming model, creators often receive fixed residuals based on subscriber counts rather than revenue generated by individual works (Writer’s Guild of America West 2024). This shift highlights how the normalization of shared access, rather than individual ownership, calls for a redefinition of how cultural artifacts are valued and compensated, with their worth increasingly determined by its role in sustaining the broader ecosystem rather than by their intrinsic qualities.
2.3. Scarcity / Ubiquity
This leads to a discussion of scarcity, which drives the value of physical artifacts, as seen in collectibles whose market value increases as they become harder to find. This principle, foundational to classical economics, ties value to the limited availability of goods (Ricardo 1817; Smith 1776). For example, a rare 1952 Mickey Mantle baseball card sold for $12.5 million in 2022, up from $60,000 in 1992 (Otis 2022), illustrating how scarcity, ownership, and authenticity combine to elevate the value of physical items.
In contrast digital cultural artifacts, more often accessed than owned, accrue value less through scarcity than they do through regeneration—the new contexts they create, their adaptability, and how they are reinterpreted over time. This shift resembles a transition from classical to neoclassical economics, where value is more subjective, influenced by consumer preferences and marginal utility (Marshall 1890). As Henry Jenkins (2006) suggests via “the spreadable model,” the value of digital media is not fixed but dynamic, driven by user engagement and contextual re-creation. Shifman (2013) investigates this adaptability as pertinent to memes, which gain cultural value via their ability to evolve, be remade, and circulated across diverse social environments. Thus, shared digital artifacts are valued less for their fixed properties, like scarcity, than for their context-dependent qualities–continuous transformation and circulation.
While digital scarcity is not impossible, the challenge lies in making it culturally valuable. Blockchain technology has sought to address this by offering verifiable authenticity, scarcity, and security in the digital world—qualities that were previously unattainable in digital environments (McGimpsey 2024). This led to the rise of digital collectibles, i.e., non-fungible tokens (NFTs), which have, despite initial excitement, experienced significant declines in value. Recent reports state that over 95% of NFT collections are now dead (Yang 2023); “the short lifespan of NFTs suggests that the market may not be the golden goose many had hoped for,” NFT Evening concluded (NFT Evening 2024). This volatility highlights the precariousness of a value system driven by market dynamics rather than intrinsic quality, utility, or cultural relevance. As McGimpsey has suggested, blockchain’s greater potential may be in capitalizing upon the utility of the digital realm—such as authenticating digital identity and monetizing creator content (McGimpsey 2024).
3. (Re)Collection
Each of the aforementioned constructs of psychological value have an important underlying relationship to temporality, suggesting that the shift from physical to digital ephemera has significant implications for personal and cultural history. As explained, physical artifacts, by their material nature, offer a sense of fixed temporality and continuity that inspires preservation. Explained by philosopher and collector Walter Benjamin, “to renew the old world–that is the collector's deepest desire when he is driven to acquire new things” (Benjamin 1931, p.16). However, atemporal digital ephemera, continuously renewed, struggle to replicate these associations, not only diminishing the sentimentality of collection but challenging the very need to remember.
While digital mementoes can engender memories of relationships and events, researchers found they seldom support personal reminiscence (Petrelli and Whittaker 2010). Research consistently demonstrates that physical artifacts are more memorable than digital ones. Studies conclude that real-world objects evoke stronger memories than their photographic representations, and people better recall what they read from a page than a screen (Snow et. al 2013; Baron 2021). Petrelli and Whittaker (2010) posit that physical mementoes are complex symbols, whereas digital mementoes are “simple triggers” that are “too impersonal to fully express the richness of memories” (p.11). These effects suggest that the collection serves a much different purpose for physical vs. digital artifacts—the former as a means for creating worlds of meaning, the latter literally archiving.
By unbinding artifacts from space and time, the persistent nature of digital ephemera further undermines the sacredness of collection. While physical media offer tangible links to personal or cultural history, digital media prioritize a perpetual present. In the digital ecosystem, memory becomes synonymous with immediacy, as past, present, and future collapse into a continuous “new” or “now.” As explained by scholar Wendy Hui Kyong Chun (2008), “new media, like the computer technology on which it relies, races simultaneously towards the future and the past, towards what we might call the bleeding edge of obsolescence.” This perpetual renewal, compounded by the weakened capacity for reminiscence, renders digital media “enduring ephemera”—so relevant that they approach irrelevance (Kyong Chen 2008).
Chun's notion of "enduring ephemera" aligns with theorist Thomas Metzinger’s critique of how the internet, as integral to our lives and self-conceptions, has radically altered conscious experience. As Metzinger posits, digital culture blurs traditional anchors of memory and identity, creating a state resembling “a mixture of dreaming, dementia, intoxication, and infantilization” (Metzinger 2009, p.235). Andrew Hoskins concurs that “forgetting—or perhaps a new careless memory has become our default condition,” asserting how the social function of memory is instead carried out by digital networks and prostheses (Hoskins 2011, p.19). Together, these perspectives suggest that the immediacy of digital media disrupts the processes by which we preserve and derive meaning from personal and cultural history, encouraging a dependence on digital mediation. The digital representation of everyday culture mirrors the digital representation of ourselves.
4. Implications: Disposable Culture
The digitalization of everyday media signifies a paradigm shift reshaping the ways we engage with and remember culture. It prioritizes consumption over commemoration, as digital media, valued for their ability to be continuously renewed rather than their enduring significance, foster a preoccupation with immediacy and novelty. This preoccupation shapes a range of other modern overconsumption habits from “doom scrolling” and “binge-watching” to fast fashion and microtrends. Indeed, research shows a positive correlation between social media usage and conspicuous consumption (Pellegrino 2022). While digitalization is often heralded as a sustainable alternative to materialism—eschewing physical goods as wasteful and resource-intensive—it paradoxically contributes to a disposable culture.
These trends suggest a place for materialism in addressing overconsumption. Despite common conflation, materialism and consumerism are, by definition, polar opposites. As Richard Denniss explains in Curing Affluenza: How to Buy Less Stuff and Save the World, materialism fosters an appreciation for the intrinsic value of objects, cultivating meaningful connections between artifacts and self-concept. Consumerism, by contrast, centers on consumption for its own sake (Denniss 2017). Reintroducing materialism—with its focus on preservation and intentionality—could counteract conspicuous consumption. Denniss warns, “If people continue to embrace the benefits of ‘convenience’ and pursue the symbolic appeal of novelty, then, as billions more people emulate the consumption patterns of today’s middle-class culture, the impact on the natural environment will be devastating” (Denniss 2017).
This paradigm shift also reflects a major redistribution of power. Cultural artifacts once owned and curated by individuals are now embedded in systems of access controlled by corporate entities like streaming platforms and social media. In this model, the value of media is inextricable from the medium through which it is accessed, leading to a deflation of latent value for consumers. As individuals lose the ability to imbue cultural artifacts with greater personal or historical significance, corporations gain cultural influence by controlling access and further encouraging passive engagement through algorithmic personalization.
Tiqqun’s concept of the cybernetic episteme (2000) frames this dynamic as an enclosure or externalization of experience, a process that, as Irmgard Emmelhainz explains, “is inextricable from colonialism” (Emmelhainz 2020). Ariella Azoulay underscores this critique, describing “the shutter” as the mechanism by which individuals are rendered both worldless and objectless—“a synecdoche for the operation of the imperial enterprise altogether on which the invention of photography, as well as other technological media, was modeled” (Azoulay 2019, p. 2). Emmelhainz argues that the cybernetic episteme naturalizes corporate control by fostering passive engagement under the guise of connectivity. This “ideology of connection” neutralizes democratic demands for agency, turning media into commodified representations controlled by extractivist systems (Emmelhainz 2020). Altogether, the digitalization of everyday culture diminishes consumers’ ability to shape personal and cultural identity, reinforcing dependency on corporate platforms.
5. Conclusion: Preservation or Immortalization?
Cultural matter grows so conceptual and fungible that it can seem futile. A passing thought. As the value of cultural media becomes intertwined with the utility of its medium, we risk devaluing the tangible, emotional, mortal aspects of heritage and memory that define our humanity. Taking lessons from the practice of collecting everyday physical prints, we can aim to engage with digital environments in ways that uphold the pertinent values of our physical one, like autonomy, intentionality, and enduring connection. In doing so, we may not only enrich our everyday experiences, but also rekindle a cultural mindfulness that cherishes our legacy.
For these reasons, I have come to view my impulse to preserve my MetroCard as a kind of religious act, rooted in a belief in the significance of our own mortality. It is an assertion that the tangible aspects of life today hold intrinsic value to be appreciated. An act of sustainability, it is an effort to hold onto the world as it slips through our fingers. If nothing else, it begs the question: If left with essentially software updates and viral moments to define our existence, how will we cherish our lives? Or, perhaps more profoundly: Do we seek to be immortalized?