Tender Digitality, published by Germany-based Slanted Publishers, is a collection of texts and visuals compiled cohesively in a book and edited by Charlotte Axelsson, Head of e-learning in the Learning & Teaching dossier at the Zurich University of the Arts (ZHdK). With contributions from 18 different authors, the book introduces the aesthetically oriented concept of tender digitality, which was developed at ZHdK, in Zurich, Switzerland.

However, the uncommon term, utilised as the book's title, begs the question: What exactly is Tender Digitality?

An understanding of the perplexing term greets the reader quite early on in the book, particularly in the introductory chapter by Charlotte Axelsson, eponymously titled Tender Digitality. Axelsson initially defines tenderness as “a deeply serious and aesthetic moment that shows us the contours of the in-between, of that which is hardly tangible.”

Further, she describes all kinds of navigatory motions in a non-digital, analogue space, as ones that proceed in a more or less linear fashion. “We travel through time, move from one place to another, we are born to die,” she exemplifies in her essay. Hence, some of the most fascinating and impactful bodily processes that occur are almost always nonlinear and chaotic. These are experiences that often also occur as a result of the brain’s multi-dimensional experience of an extrinsically linear occurrence.

However, whilst surveying digital navigation, one finds a person’s additional reliance on their senses, essentially because the navigation in such spaces is “bodyless.” Consequently, the ‘linear, analogue physicality’ in physical spaces manifests itself through an ‘aesthetic, digitalised physicality’ in digital mediums. Since technology today continues to evolve in a manner that encourages multidimensionality—in the user interface and user experience—and operates in contrast to the aforementioned linear pattern, its impact manifests amongst learners and users in the form of reduced attention spans and a general sense of overwhelm that makes it difficult to not only navigate through digital mediums, and by extension, physical spaces but also reduces the scope and space to practise empathy.

Thus, it becomes essential to mindfully apply tenderness in the digital domain, to explore and understand the sentiments and nuances that pervade the nooks in such overwhelming spaces. “This tenderness in the digital domain is important, as we tend to focus so much on technology that we forget to act like a human being,” Axelsson asserts.

The following chapters in the book, by various multidisciplinary creatives, guide the readers through varying perspectives about human interaction with digital mediums, often conflating common human experiences with their complementary manifestations in the digital space. The experimental chapters, pivoted on the methodologies of play, experiential learning, interrogative inquiry and visual prompts, excerpt suggestions and propositions for practising tender digitality.

The first in line, Sascha Schneider, in the chapter Castle, delves into the exploration of how one learns through digital mediums and how they support and disrupt this didactic process. Appending his experimental approach, referred to as the Cognitive-Affective-Social Theory of Learning in Digital Environments (CASTLE), Schneider presents the chapter in an atypically formatted mein—that of a table maze that charts the different means in the digital world through which ideas and expressions are communicated, and their corresponding retention in the human brain—as sensory memory, working memory or long-term memory.

When discussing the subject of digital mediums and the development of an interpersonal connection with them, it is implausible for gamification processes to not make it to the list. In the third chapter, Playification. The Recall on Gamification, Mela Kocher presents a game-based essay, wherein the reading sequence can independently be decided by readers—much like the science fiction film Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)—in order to experience alternate narrations, junctions and ends. Kocher’s essay also, in a way, presents a way of gamifying that extends beyond the typical ‘points, badges and leader-board formula.’ The patterns designed as part of the game present an opportunity for individuals to take disparate paths, all of which are coherent. The sequence they are read in, however, does impact one’s perception and understanding of the said topic. In the digital space, where multimodal sequences can often confound or perplex the user, an understanding of and familiarity with gamified systems can help append agency, consequently reducing the extent to which one might get overwhelmed in non-linearly designed digital systems.

In place of the desire to implement tenderness in digital spaces, concerning acquired and owned data and entities, Hannah Eßler’s Back And Beyond seeks to cultivate and implement a thoughtful approach to managing one’s archive, via the writer’s story about her grandmother’s process of discarding and archiving entities for a residential move and conflating and comparing this tale against her own experience of managing her digital data. Concluding the essay, she asks: “How do digital archives reshape epistemic practices of collecting, organising and archiving?” The comparison between the two incidents essentially lends a humane perspective to the task of personal archiving.

Keeping up with the rich visual and aural dimension of digital mediums, Marcial Koch, in his chapter Can You Hear It Splashing?, takes the readers through an AR sound experience, via an imprinted QR code that one must scan from their phones; and Friederike Lampert’s Dance Score Weave is a visual essay that showcases different digital and (analogue) woven patterns emulating the essence of dance scores, steps and choreographies. “The resulting pattern or texture is a transformation of the thoughtful, tender act of (inter)weaving and composing,” Lampert shares.

In Tactile Media, Oliver Ruf enunciates upon the concept of tenderness in digital media. He details how tenderness can be used as a tool for uncovering unseen gestures—by the simple gesture of touching and holding certain icons—and finding concealed beauty and imperceptible qualities in various mediums. Placing tactility at the centre of tender gestures, Ruf shares, “Regardless of the specific focus of gestural control, one thing is clear: all these implications of gesture—whether centred on a physical gesture alone (such as hand movements) or explicitly tied to digital interfaces—revolve around the concept of tactility in general and, more specifically, the tactility of tenderness [...] it is only through touching and feeling our way that we gain a sensory understanding of our environment, that we establish adaptive relationships.”

Marie-France Rafael, in her essay, Take Care - Thoughts on Tenderness in the Digital Age examines how the gestures made while interacting with a smartphone often open up routes to practise tenderness—through a photo, a message or a reminder. However, Rafael also pertinently draws attention to the difference between experiencing tenderness via digital mediums and implementing it in the real world. Oliver Bendel visually articulates his poems via codified multicoloured montages in The Loneliness of the Female Astronaut.

Francis Müller’s Transitions and Thresholds speaks of digital mediums infiltrating not only our daily lives but also an individual’s last days and death, as well as the subsequent grieving and remembrance. Müller’s description of the all-encompassing nature of the digital permeating all stages of life, including death and all that follows, reminds one of the utopian vision of creating the desired afterlife, as televised on the third season of the series Black Mirror, in the episode San Junipero. In a similar vein, Leoni Hof, in his autofictional writing project The Night Remains, reflects on her search for her father in online spaces after the latter’s death. Yet again, the narrative posed by Hof appears to conflate the emotional surge showcased in the Black Mirror episode Be Right Back. Such parallels serve as determinants of the universality of such emotions through time and space, and of the scope of practising tenderness, empathy and regard in digital spaces and via digital mediums, in an attempt to emulate practices and aspirations evident in the physical world.

While Marisa Burn’s Empty and Space comprises a photo series conceptualised intending to connect spots and spaces that, despite ubiquitous connectivity, remain unconnected as of yet; Alexander Damianisch’s The New Research Program speaks of the potential of tenderness to bring new relevance to canonical digital discourse. “Tenderness is a value of open circumspection, prudent openness, respect and empathy. If this tenderness succeeds, then I can imagine a digitality that, as an instrument, finds fewer weaponised mouths than mouths of resonance, and more open than closed missions,” Damianisch asserts.

Léa Ermuth’s Traces of a Lost Relationship details how technology can often help cultivate intimacy that defies geographical distances or even proximity to the person. It allows one to be ever-present in each other’s lives, sometimes blurring the line between real and virtual, at other times reducing the importance levied to such means of communication, whilst also relaying the contents of a relationship to continue existing as a digital archive.

Relate to Someone brings a conversation—between Barbara Getto and Charlotte Axelsson—on the concept of culture in education, and focusing on togetherness and collaboration in the quest for a tender digital culture. In contrast to preceding chapters, Grit Wolany’s Synthetic Tenderness poses several questions, with regard to the sentience of artificial intelligence mediums and the impact of human behaviour on AI. Through these questions, she seeks to emphasise thinking, feeling, processing and understanding, instead of exploring digital mediums via clicks and likes, especially in tandem with AI-generated visuals and text.

Gunter Lösel, a theatre scholar, actor and psychologist, asserts, in the chapter Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, that he can estimate the personality and intent of a person if they share their preferred chatbot with him. This assertion showcases both, the ease with which such technological provisions can be developed, and the impact of such a phenomenon on society. Concluding the discourse on tender digitality, Dana Blume, in her essay Reflecting on Oneself, explores the integration of self-reflection and self-interrogation using analogue pinhole photography and digital prompting to create images and questions for systemic self-inquiry.

As technology inordinately inundates all spheres of life, it is essential now, to adapt and configure this novel location in a manner such that it can append efficiency, lend support, and offer space for tenderness to persist and comfort users as well as for critical contemplation to ensue. For these digital nooks to remain unencumbered by overwhelmingly fraught erratic occurrences, it is essential to gain inspiration from the physical world to learn how to navigate the digital terrain. In essence, the past must inform and enhance the ways of the future.