Fríða Ísberg’s novel The Mark was published in English (translated from Icelandic into English by Larissa Kyzer) in April 2024. I feel that this book has mainly flown under the radar in Australian literary scenes, which, in my humble opinion, is a travesty. The novel is set in a not-so-distant future in Iceland and follows four main characters as they navigate a campaign leading up to a national referendum that would see an extremely controversial ’empathy test’ made mandatory for all Icelandic citizens. It is not a futuristic novel by any means, and the events and setting of the novel actually feel like they could be happening right now – making it all the more unsettling as a reader.

The novel is dystopian and political, addressing issues related to technology, freedom, community, and mental health. The idea behind the empathy test is such that citizens would have to take the test every 12 months, and it is an advanced ‘psycho/psychiatric’ test that can allegedly measure people’s empathy and mental health well-being. Those who pass the test are free to go about their lives unbothered. They are, as the test has deemed them, ‘marked’ and therefore ‘safe’. Those who fail the test, for whatever reason, require psychiatric interventions that range from as minor as seeing a psychologist to being medicated and, in extreme cases, being hospitalised in a psychiatric facility until they are able to pass the test. The novel is set in a time when the test has been voluntary. This, however, has created a harsh divide in society where people are categorised as ‘marked’ and ‘unmarked’. Neighbourhoods become exclusive for ‘marked’ residents only. Certain shops no longer allow unmarked people to shop inside the store. Companies begin requiring staff to take the test, and those who fail it lose their jobs (despite having no other work-related issues).

The people behind the campaign in favour of the empathy test, like the psychologist Óli, have good intentions. And just like the expression – the way to hell is paved with good intentions – so, too, is the path for instigating the empathy test. The polarisation in the population is enormous and the effects of worry and concern from both sides (those in favour of the test, and those against) causes violence, crime rates to rise, depression and social anxieties to increase, and a general feeling of mistrust amongst citizens.

On the surface, it seems simple – if you have no issues, have done nothing wrong, and have nothing to hide, why wouldn’t you just take the test? And this notion of having nothing to hide is often used to justify surveillance measures across the globe to varying degrees. The rebuttal to such an idea poses the question of “Who gets to decide, and under what guidelines, if you have done something wrong?” Which is what makes this novel such an important literary piece for our times.

Shoshana Zuboff’s book The Age of Surveillance Capitalism is what I would call the academic companion to Ísberg’s novel. Zuboff is an academic with many well-derserved acalades. Her book surveillance capitalism has been an international best seller, and my copy of the novel claims that it was “A Barak Obama Pick of 2019” (honestly, the meta irony of that is not lost on me). For those wanting something a little meatier than The Mark, I would strongly suggest Zuboff’s works.

For the purpose of discussing The Mark, I want to look at what Zuboff’s definition of surveillance capitalism and how it applies to not only Ísberg’s novel, but our current circumstances.

At the very beginning of Zuboff’s book, she opens with a definition which states that surveillance capitalism is:

“1. A new economic order that claims human experience as free raw material for hidden commercial practices of extraction, prediction, and sales; 2. A parasitic economic logic in which the production of goods and services is subordinated to a new global architecture of behavioral modification; 3. A rogue mutation of capiatlism marked by concentrations of wealth, knowledge, and power unprecedented in human history; 4. The foundational framework for a surveillance economy; […] 8. An expropriation of critical human rights that is best understood as a coup from above: an overthrow of the people’s sovereignty.”

Zuboff, iii.

I haven’t listed every point that Zuboff writes for her definition, but have highlighted the main ones that directly link with Ísberg’s novel. Firstly, in her opening statement, Zuboff discusses the use of human experiences as ‘free raw material’ that can be used for ‘extraction, prediction, and sales’. The empathy test in The Mark, is linked with the idea that it will help improve people’s mental health and general well-being which will, in turn, make society a safer, better place. The reality is that the empathy test is indeed mining people’s human experiences, collecting the data, and then creating a specific societal hierarchy that limits people’s movements and potential. Tristan, one of the four main characters in the novel, has run away from home and is desperately trying to make enough money, whatever way he can, to buy an apartment so that he will have a place to live once the empathy test becomes mandatory. Rumours spread throughout Reykjavík that people who are unmarked, or who fail the test will not be able to buy homes because their personal data will be used in predictive models by banks to assess the risk of defaulting on a mortgage loan. This is just one example of how the raw materials are used for commercial practices despite the empathy test having seemingly nothing to do with mortgage markets.

Secondly, Ísberg rather cleverly discusses and exemplifies the ways that surveillance capitalism, and more specifically, how something like the empathy test can be used for what Zuboff calls ‘behavioral modification’, which is another way of describing a self-disciplinary tool. The fear, hope, concern, worry, and anxiety around the empathy test and whether it will become compulsory has strange and overarching effects on the Icelandic population. Some citizens voluntarily take the test, then move themselves into ‘marked neighbourhoods’, and then also increase their surveillance measures like using facial recognition tools, alarms, personal tracking devices, and other A.I. tools. Sound familiar?

Thirdly, the power imbalances that are caused by the empathy test also reflect what Zuboff calls the ‘concentrations of wealth, knowledge, and power unprecedented in human history’. When people start to voluntarily take the test, it casts a shadow on those who have not, making everyone else questionable and possibly deviant. Those who have access to who is marked, who is not, and who has failed the test creates a social hierarchy built around the outcomes of one specific test – and this, in turn, creates wealth, education, and power divides.

Fourthly, the empathy test becomes the foundational element for all other political, social, and cultural decisions and policies in Iceland. This idea of a ‘foundational framework’, as Zuboff argues, is a means for creating more and more surveillance tools, frameworks, and markets. What unfolds throughout Ísberg’s novel is exactly this – the knock-on effects of how the empathy test begins to distort and invade all other social, economic, and political realms making it a powerful and extremely dangerous tool.

Lastly, what is arguably one of the most powerful ideas put forth by Zuboff and Ísberg is how surveillance capitalism can ‘overthrow […] people’s sovereignty’. Sovereignty is often discussed with regard to nation states and their autonomy, which is indeed an element in Ísberg’s novel. However, it is also important to think about this on the individual level. The authority to govern oneself, the ability for agency over one’s life, and access to self-determination is what is truly at stake when we talk about what we have to lose under surveillance capitalism. Zuboff’s book outlines real world examples of how different countries are already implementing these kinds of surveillance regimes, and Ísberg’s novel looks like the simulation model of what would happen if surveillance capitalism was left unchecked.

The Mark is a particularly moving novel, and it has given me so much to think about since I finished reading it. There is so much to unpack and so much to reflect on. Far too much to fit into one single review. If you read this book, please comment below and let me know what you thought of it.

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