Hacking With Squirrels: Yeti Campus Stories

This semester our digital anthropology seminar has covered a lot of ground. We have been so busy, in fact, that I haven’t had much time to even do all of the blogging that I had planned. I hope to do some catching up at the end of the semester. We have read many interesting things, enjoyed thought-provoking conversations, and have just scratched the surface of the issues we have taken up.

We have also had some fun, so I thought I’d start with that.

During the first few weeks of the semester we examined the cultural specific expressions and practices of global social media platforms while reading Daniel Miller’s book, Tales From FacebookA few weeks later, we added issues of anonymity and privacy and mixed in the playful-seriousness of hacking while reading work from Gabriella ColemanMakenzie Wark and others. The conversations left us in part with a recognition of hacking-as-critique of the platforms and systems through which we practice and perform our digital selves.

After one of our class conversations about politics and pleasures of hacking—of bending a system or platform to one’s will in spite of its designer’s intentions—we considered how we could get a taste without harm. While we don’t have the time or expertise to hack at the level of code, was it possible to hack at the level of use—could we generate micro lulz or simulate our own version of a denial of service attack? Could we think of a case where we might use a service, platform or system in a way that would critique its normal function. And, could we do this in a way that would allow for individual innovation and creativity while also building or maintaining a sense of community among our hacker-class? Ideally it would be a real effort, but at the same time harmless.

A day or two later, with these issues buzzing in my head, I read an article about Yeti Campus Stories, a mobile app intended for college students to anonymously share images and short videos of their college lives. As one might imagine, the app was designed to be a place where students primarily share images of their social lives—shots of parties, carousing, drinking and having fun. As an anonymous platform, however, the sharing can be extreme—dipping into the dark side of campus culture. The article described how Yeti was being used for sharing sensational images of students’ guns and weaponry. Other articles have mentioned explicit images of drug use and other illegal behavior.

After installing Yeti, I held my breath and took a plunge—checking out some of the streams from various campuses around the US. Indeed, it didn’t take me long to find parties and booze and drugs and guns. It was rowdy and raw—the app itself a critique of the very idea of “higher education.” When I went to check if there was a Yeti stream from my university I wasn’t surprised to see that there wasn’t one. It was empty. Apparently the app wasn’t well known on my campus. Perhaps our school is too small for anonymity to be effective. Maybe all of our students are earnest and hardworking all the time and never party.

Nevertheless, this was an opportunity—an opportunity for our class to own our campus Yeti feed. We could take it over. We could hack it through intentional, coordinated action.

The next day in class, we decided that everyone would install the Yeti app and we would flood it with images of little fuzzy squirrels—we would fill it with all of the squirrels we could find and deny the intentions of the app developers by hacking it though use. We would change the local meaning of the platform by practicing it in a different way.

Yeti: Campus Stories would become Fluffy: Squirrel stories.

It worked. For much of the next week and continuing even until now, anonymous squirrel pics started popping up at all hours of the day and night. There were partying squirrels, masculine squirrels, squirrels in love and eating junk food. Rather than change the code of the app, we just used it differently—demonstrating that platforms are dependent on content and can be hacked through their use. Overall it was quite entertaining and did build a bit of esprit de corps among class members.

So while other students on other campuses might be using Yeti to share their lives beyond the classroom—their parties and their weed and their guns—on our campus the pictures of fluffy squirrels means The Yeti has been working for our education.


  1. Andy "SuperFly" Rundquist

    Dang it, David, once again I enter a break from teaching and I read one of your posts about what you’re doing in your class. Once again I’m defeated, depressed, dumbfounded. You do such awesome things and you build such a great community in your class. It sounds like they learned a lot from this and you were able to leverage it to help the learning in the rest of the class (through the stronger community).

    Ok, one snipe. I’m pretty sure one of my advisees is in your class this semester. When I heard he had your class I asked “isn’t it awesome?!” His answer made it seem like it was ho-hum. I tried to dig and it seems he thought this would be a coast-able class for him. I have no doubt if he put the time, he’d get a lot out. I guess my question is what is the work/attitude/whatever that they have to do to really “buy in?” It’s interesting that he’s in a class of mine right now and he’s got a lot of work to do to rise up to his potential. Sometimes I feel like shaking him and saying “you could be doing so much more!” but, on the other hand, I don’t know his whole story. Who knows what’s holding him back. In a class like yours, do you think students can see beyond the “ugh, that sounds like work” and roll up their sleaves and work?

    Great job, I’m super jealous. Keep it up! #NaBloCoMo


    • Thanks for reading, Andy. I’m sorry that anyone thinks the class is “ho-hum” as I put quite a lot of work into it and the topics have generated some very interesting discussions this semester. Clearly these topics are important to this generation of student—and all of us, really. Since this is the first time I’m teaching this topic, I haven’t pushed the students as hard as I have other classes—fewer quizzes and some shorter assignments. I hope, however, that it is still far from “coast-able.” There are some folks really putting a lot of effort, energy and pizazz into the class and I’ve had some really enjoyable moments this semester. Right now they are working on a wide variety of small final projects, and I’m looking forward to seeing how they go!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: