The Social Dilemma: A chat with composer Mark Crawford

BY HANNAH MAY WITH STEPHANIE ESLAKE

Fake news. Algorithms. Manipulation of our perception of the world. Manipulation of our perception of ourselves.

Confronting big issues like these, it’s no wonder The Social Dilemma has sent shockwaves through the lives of social media users. The documentary was viewed 38 million times in its first month on Netflix — evidence that we want to know more about how our human experiences intersect with, and are controlled by, the technology we embrace.

Mark Crawford worked with The Social Dilemma filmmakers to communicate this narrative through music. The Emmy-nominated film composer wrote a score that merges human and machine. Here’s how he did it, and what it means for you while you watch.

Tell us a little about your story and how you became a documentary composer. Who has helped you along the way, schooled you, or perhaps challenged the way you wrote?

When I was in elementary school, I’d hang out with my older sister while she did homework and listened to film soundtracks because they didn’t have lyrics to distract her. I remember getting super excited about experiencing my favorite movies through the music by composers like Danny Elfman, John Williams, and James Newton Howard.

Around the same time, I’d also borrow my family’s VHS camera and make little movies with my friends, putting a boombox up to the microphone and creating a sort of in-camera soundtrack. This was the first time I saw the relationship between music and moving images.

I became interested in composing in general after I saw the film Amadeus. The idea that one could write down on paper what they heard in their head and have it performed was a powerful idea that has always stuck with me, and has become my way to communicate to the world.

For the documentary side of things, I had a wonderful documentary teacher in college named Jerry Aronson, who was shortlisted for an Academy Award, and made the award-winning documentary The Life and Times of Allen Ginsberg. I think I fell in love with documentaries because of how much there was to grow as an individual and empathise with the subject through the making of film.

Every documentary I’ve worked on since taking his class has changed the way I think about the world.

The Social Dilemma, your recent project, has reached so many people around the world — 38 million in its first month! It got so many of us thinking about how we use our social media — that line between being human and machine. How did it get you thinking about your own use of social networking?

I came on board The Social Dilemma very early on as a sound recordist for the interviews, so from the get-go I received a masterclass in the subject matter from listening to the interviews with experts and former Silicon Valley insiders.

Personally, I took a long hard look at how and why I use social media, and would ask myself questions, such as ‘What kind of feelings make me want to check my phone? Why was I posting this picture of myself in an adventurous location? Is it because I am lonely or wanting attention?’. I think recognising why we use this technology, and questioning what it is we’re putting out into the world, is a clue as to what’s really going on inside us.

I am honestly still conflicted about social media — hence the title of the movie. I’ve been able to connect and have great conversations about music and film through these mediums. But at the same time, I feel myself getting sucked in, and feeling that FOMO or regret or jealousy that can compound upon itself if unchecked.

This is a massive problem with far-reaching consequences, and will require systems-level change. But if you’re looking for one quick tip, try no phones in the bedroom. That one’s a no-brainer.

In the video to complement the release of your soundtrack for The Social Dilemma, you said this was one of your most “impactful” projects. What does this mean to you, and how have you felt the impact of this soundtrack on yourself or your listeners?

I think it’s been impactful in both the process of creating the soundtrack, and the weight of the responsibility to deliver something that’s honest and right for the subject matter.

The process of creating the score made me really think about the future of music, and if human creativity can be replaced by smart computers and algorithms. It’s already been demonstrated that people can be fooled by computers that can mimic the works of Bach, so I wondered if the future of music meant breaking it down into 1s and 0s. Kind of a big rabbit hole to start going down while trying to write 89 minutes of music for a 93 minute film, but it really made me look at the technology and its relationship to my own music.

Whenever you put something like The Social Dilemma into the world, about a subject matter that’s so ingrained into our culture, there’s also a good amount of ethics involved with what you’re trying to say — from the stringent fact-checking that the filmmaking team did up until its launch, to whether music complements or detracts from the sentiment of the material. I feel proud to be a part of a team that really did its best to showcase this current dilemma we are facing.

Was there a particular moment or scene that struck you and took you to a new place in your composing style?

There’s kind of a block of cues and scenes in the middle of the film where there’s a audible transition in the score from the ‘traditional’ orchestral style to a mechanical, digital style. This is where I really explored how to dehumanise the orchestral instruments and bring in a more unemotional computer influence. It includes the scene when the young girl, Isla, played by Sophia Hammons, gets sucked into her beautification apps and followed by a scene of her looking at herself in the mirror.

I think my favorite example of this mechanising of the music is when Ben, played by Skyler Gisondo, is pacing in his bedroom after he gives up his phone. It feels like the score just breaks apart.

Grammy-winning artists Brandi Carlile and Renée Elise Goldsberry jumped into the deconstructing of I Put a Spell on You. How was it working with them, and what made you decide to work with this particular song?

I Put a Spell on You is one of those songs that has a simple set of lyrics and structure, but its meaning changes depending on who sings it and the context it’s put up against.

When Davis Coombe, the editor, put this song over the montage of Ben falling under the spell of his phone, it felt like a new stage of evolution to this classic song. I wanted to explore this musically through a cover, and even add some new elements to elevate the film’s message.

I was so incredibly honoured and humbled to work with Brandi Carlile and Renée Elise Goldsberry on this project. Their vocals give the song and movement so much power. Brandi’s singing during the classic sections of the song hold so much emotional depth, and Renée’s vocals create an haunting urgency with the additional lyrics about this issue. It was really a dynamic team, and such an incredible experience working with them.

In this age where it appears that ‘live musicians’ are being used less — and so much of composition and recording is now done ‘in the box’ through production — why did you feel it was important to bring both sides of composing into this project? Can this teach us more about that idea of human versus machine?

Ah, the great existential question for musicians and composers.

This contrast between live musicians and computer instruments is a dilemma I think a lot of composers face, because computer instruments can work well in some instances. Though, there is something very powerful about hearing real instruments played by humans.

I worked with my local music studio here in Longmont, Wind Over the Earth; and Mark Venezia, the recordist and mixer on the score. The auditory depth they create through their approach of recording with real instruments, real musicians, using traditional analogue techniques and machinery, translates to an emotional depth in a score, and dare I say a human element.

There’s also a different approach to my music when I know I’ll be finishing it at the studio. I feel like I slow down, understand what really makes my music tick, and remove all the fluff, and think more critically about the sound I’m trying to achieve with each instrument. I use technology and in-the-box production techniques to quickly find a musical instrument palette and test it against picture. However, for this project that was so deeply about humanity versus machine design, when it came to the final score, I wanted to make it as ‘handmade’ as possible in some parts, to contrast the machine elements.

Beyond the arrangement of this song, you also worked with orchestral music and vintage synthesisers. You said in a statement this creates ‘a dilemma in musical form, pitting humanity and technology against one another’. But do you feel this may also — with optimism and hope — symbolise a way for humanity and technology to live in harmony?

What a question! Having worked recently on three documentaries about existential crises — Chasing Ice, Chasing Coral, and The Social Dilemma — I think it’s allowed me to step back in terms of my role, which is just part of a bigger story. Technology has the potential to fix a lot of problems on our planet, but it has to be designed with humanity at the core, otherwise it won’t be aligned with our best intentions.

In The Social Dilemma, one of the subjects talks about how the pessimists are the true optimists because they see a better world is possible. I think the role of artists and composers is to hold on to, and remind others, what makes us humans more than just lemmings living out our days on this planet.

I wanted to demonstrate this ‘return of humanity’ to the film score in the the final cue Shut it Down, when we realise we humans built this technology, which means we have the ability to change it. The human-played orchestral elements surge back into the score and play in harmony with lush synth elements. However, when Tristan Harris is asked the question ‘Will we get there?’, and he answers, ‘We have to’, the music does not resolve — and that question hangs in the air along with the last note of the score.

We have a long way to go, and making music keeps me hopeful.

In the era of COVID-19, artists nevertheless need to engage in social networking, every day, to build their profile and brand. If they don’t, they’re simply not meeting the competition. As a successful composer, what do you feel is the role of social networking in a professional sense — as something essential, or damaging, to the artist?

I’d like to think that social networking isn’t the only way to build a profile and brand, but it certainly is the dominant and easiest route these days. I think it’s important for every artist to find their own path, their own voice, and not fall victim to the often-overwhelming barrage of expectations and criticism that comes from these new technologies.

Personally, I’m still trying to navigate this world of social media, using the values and morals I’ve developed over the years as a compass to simply try to share my music, and hopefully inspire someone to follow a similar path that’s been fulfilling for me over the years.

What key message would you like your listeners to take away from what you’ve done through your score to The Social Dilemma?

I feel like I put a lot of thought, energy, and a bit of my soul into making this score, and the score itself tells a story. If we put down our phones and listen carefully, a score like this may reveal someone else’s influences, memories, fears, and joys.

This score is a piece of me, and that’s what I call real magic.