Coextensive space: virtual reality and the developing relationship between the body, the digital and physical space

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Coextensive space: virtual reality and the developing relationship Coextensive space: virtual reality and the developing relationship

between the body, the digital and physical space between the body, the digital and physical space

Michael Saker

Jordan Frith

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https://doi.org/10.1177/0163443720932498

Media, Culture & Society

2020, Vol. 42(7-8) 1427 –1442

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DOI: 10.1177/0163443720932498

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Coextensive space: virtual

reality and the developing

relationship between the body,

the digital and physical space

Michael Saker

City, University of London, UK

Jordan Frith

Clemson University, USA

Abstract

Virtual Reality (VR) has traditionally required external sensors placed around a designated

play space. In contrast, more recent wired and wireless systems, such as the Oculus Rift

S (released in March 2019) and the Oculus Quest (released in May 2019) use cameras

located on the outside of these devices to monitor their physical position. Users can

now mark out a physical space that is then digitally tracked within their display. Once a

play space has been established, users are alerted if they come close to breaching this

boundary by the visual inclusion of a grid. Should this threshold be breached, the headset

display shifts to an image of the surrounding concrete environment. We contend that

physical space is increasingly being incorporated into the digital space of VR in a manner

that meaningfully differs from older systems. We build our argument in the following

way. First, the article explores how theories surrounding VR have implicated only a

limited relationship with physical space. Second, the article introduces the concept of

coextensive space as a way of understanding the developing relationship between the

physical, digital and concrete reality enacted by current VR systems.

Keywords

immersion, mobility, presence, six degrees of freedom, spatiality, Virtual Reality (VR),

virtuality, wireless VR

Corresponding author:

Michael Saker, Department of Sociology, City, University of London, Northampton Square, London EC1V

0HB, UK.

Email: [email protected]

932498

MCS0010.1177/0163443720932498Media, Culture & SocietySaker and Frith

research-article2020

Main Article

1428 Media, Culture & Society 42(7-8)

Introduction

To understand recent advancements in Virtual Reality (VR) and their wider significance,

it is important to first briefly reflect on the history of this technology because VR is a

complicated technology to discuss. From one angle, it is the ‘next big thing’, an emergent

media form supported by hundreds of millions of USD in investment from major tech

companies like Facebook, Google and HTC, which has led to the release of more com-

mercially orientated systems like Sony’s PSVR. From another angle, it is much older

than its veneer might imply, and has followed a circuitous path of hype, disappointment

and revival (Jenkins, 2019). In fact, it was not until the 1980s and early 1990s that com-

mercial VR actually began to gather pace. In 1984, for instance, Jaron Lanier – often

considered the ‘father of VR’ – created VPL Research, and produced several industry-

defining devices, including the DataGlove and AudioSphere. And while VR continued to

grow in various ways throughout the ‘halcyon days of VR culture’ (Evans, 2018: 27),

only a limited number of systems were publicly available, and these systems ranged from

US$10,000 to US$50,000. For Evans (2018), a significant reason for VR’s lack of pro-

gress is what he refers to as ‘technological lag’.

Simply put, during the 1980s and early 1990s the cultural imaginary for VR exceeded

the technical capability. Whereas, most technologies (e.g. the Internet or mobile phones)

are shaped by some degree of ‘cultural lag’ (Brinkman and Brinkman, 1997), with cul-

tures often taking many years to adapt to the impact of emerging media, VR is different.

Influential novels, such as Neuromancer (Gibson, 1984) had already imagined people

spending the majority of their time in virtual worlds, and by the early 1990s, Computing

Gaming World predicted ‘affordable VR by 1994’. Perhaps most famously, Nicholas

Negroponte (1995), reasoned that ‘[we] will socialize in digital neighbourhoods in which

physical space will be irrelevant’ (p. 8). In stark contrast to this vision, early VR was

disappointingly slow, had major lag times, and the few commercial sets on offer were

exorbitantly priced and largely impractical (Burdea and Coiffet, 2003). The technology

was just not ready.

In spite of the lack of adoption, the implicit promise of being able to inhabit a digital

space distinct from our physical environment is precisely what made VR seem like such

a radical technology. And as Evans (2018) explains, ‘[this] is still the potential of VR

today, and in this potential the claims of revolutionary medium lie – a fully alternative,

computer-generated reality that we can be fully immersed within’ (p. 7). Significantly,

the current generation of VR might finally be on the cusp of fulfilling some of this poten-

tial. In contrast to older VR technologies that require a multitude of external sensors,

such as the HTC Vive, Oculus Rift and PSVR, more recent systems, such as the Oculus

Rift S (released in March 2019) and the Oculus Quest (released in May 2019), have

cameras located on the outside of the headset that monitor their physical position. Users

can now mark out a physical space that is then tracked within their display. Once the

‘Guardian System’ has been implemented, as it is officially termed, users are instantly

alerted if they come close to breaching this boundary by the visual inclusion of a red grid.

Should this threshold be breached, users’ display changes to a monoscopic and mono-

chrome image of their concrete surroundings, which is powered through a system termed

‘Passthrough’.

Saker and Frith 1429

Regarding distinguishing characteristics between the Rift S and the Oculus Quest –

which we are positioning here as exemplifying the current generation of VR – the Quest

is the first commercially available VR system that allows users to experience six degrees

of freedom (6DOF) without requiring the headset be connected to a separate and power-

ful personal computer. ‘DOF, refers to the variation of movement that are available to

any tracked object. A tracked object is one that moves in a physical space and reports its

position and/or rotation information to the game engine’ (Pangilinan et al., 2019: 140).

6DOF, then, mirrors the physical freedom of moving in three-dimensional space. In con-

trast to the Rift S, which requires tethering to a separate machine three a small wire, the

computer system used – in this case a Snapdragon 835 – is built into the front of the

Quest’s display. Consequently, the Quest can be played anywhere that has enough open

space because it does not require a room with a specialised attachment to a gaming com-

puter (White, 2019). At the same time, and beyond its advanced graphical power, the Rift

S also has features that the Quest currently does not. For example, Passthrough can be

manually activated by users ‘on-demand’, while it can only be accessed on the Quest if

the established play space is physically breached. Consequently, Rift S users can seam-

lessly shift their display between the digitality of VR and the concrete reality of their

surroundings.

In this article, we argue that the increasing incorporation of concrete reality through

current VR systems and emerging design features presents a form of VR that conceptu-

ally differs from older systems. We build our argument in the following way. First, the

article explores how theories surrounding VR – including virtuality, immersion, and

presence – have only implicated a limited involvement of concrete space. Second, we

argue the current generation of VR may partially alter primary relationships between

digital information and physical space, which is an issue that has long been a focus of

different strands of media research (Heim, 1994; Jensen et al., 2002; Manovich, 2001).

To address this shift in direction, we introduce the concept of coextensive space as a way

of understanding the developing relationship between the physical, digital and concrete

reality that has been enacted by current VR systems. More precisely, coextensive space

describes a symbiotic relationship between physical and digital that is increasingly prox-

imate, extensive and transformative. And this relationship is twofold. First, movement

within the digital realm of VR is mirrored in the physical, and vice versa, with actual

space visually encroaching upon the digital display, should a threshold be reached.

Second, concrete reality can be included in the mediated space of VR, either in the form

of a relational grid or a monoscopic and monochrome image of the concrete surround-

ings outside of the headset. An important part of the development of VR, then, is specifi-

cally this visualised symbiosis between the physical and digital. In addition, it is also our

contention that following the release of the Quest, VR may have reached a point of fairly

widespread attention that necessitates new explorations of the theoretical and social

importance of VR.

Virtuality and the reality of the virtual

Today, the word ‘virtual’ has moved beyond esoteric ‘strategies for conveying what con-

cepts cannot say’ (Guerlac, 2006: 189) or unravelling the experience of time à la Bergson.

1430 Media, Culture & Society 42(7-8)

Instead, it is commonly employed to describe the effect of emerging digital technologies

and the renaissance of VR as a realisable possibility (Evans, 2018). Nonetheless, it

remains important to develop an appreciation of the virtual that engages with its chrono-

logical roots. In fact, discussions of the virtual stem back to the execution of Archbishop

Thomas Cranmer for heresy in 1556 (Shields, 2005). At the heart of this event ‘was a

debate in the early reformation period of the Christian Eucharist, and specifically the

transubstantiation of bread and wine into the blood and body of Christ during the perfor-

mance of the sacrament of the Eucharist’ (Miller, 2011: 32). For reformers and Protestants

like Cranmer transubstantiation should not be understood as a literal process, but instead

a virtual one. ‘In 1556, that was enough to get one hanged’ (Miller, 2011: 32).

Deliberations, then, ‘surrounding the virtual and practices of virtuality have a long his-

tory’ (Shields, 2005: 1); one that extends beyond the digital. Yet, the virtual as a ‘signifi-

cant . . . cultural category’ (p. 4) has been used to conceptualise digital technologies and

developments, such as the Internet and the recurring metaphor of cyberspace, as well as

VR (Saker and Frith, 2019).

Certainly, the rapid growth of the web made new forms of outwardly ‘disembodied’

social interactions possible. For much of the Internet’s history as a popular technology,

the term ‘cyberspace’ became the dominant metaphor for understanding this possibility.

‘Portrayed as enabling a human virtuosity beyond the limits of the body or gravity’

(Shields, 2003: 15), this cyber world effectively opposed the physical and the digital by

imagining a ‘cyber’ space separate from the physical realm. Here, the idea of cyberspace

moved the emphasis away from the physicality of location and the fleshly form under-

pinning embodied communication (Benedikt, 1991; Heim, 1994). As a response to this

changing landscape, Nicholas Negroponte (1995) wrote about a ‘world of bits’ versus a

‘world of atoms’, telecommunication companies ran adverts about the circumvention of

distance, and commentators belittled relationships maintained primarily online (Baym,

2015; No More There, 1994). From the 2000s forward, however, the suggested abstrac-

tion of the virtual and the real became less popular (though still commonplace), with

scholarly interest turning to ‘the very real (lives) lived in the idealized space of the vir-

tual’ (Schreibman et al., 2015: 111).

For Baym (2015), the ‘myth of cyberspace’ shaped how we talk about the Internet, but

it was always just a myth. In reality, the Internet was increasingly woven into peoples’

everyday lives, affecting both online and offline interactions. As a result, ‘notions of the

virtual now look like exaggerated representations of certain relational potentials of com-

puter-mediated communication’ (Mackenzie, 2006: 92). The solution, however, as

Shields (2005) reasons, ‘is not to debate the reality of the virtual, but to develop a more

sophisticated theory of the real and the ways in which the virtual and the concrete are

different really existing forms’ (p. 21, italics in original). To do this, Shields follows

Proust’s account of involuntary memories as ‘real but not actual, ideal but not abstract’

– which Bergson latched onto (see De Zengotita, 2018: 259) – by making a distinction

between ‘the real’, ‘the actual’ (or ‘concrete’), and ‘the virtual’, which provides a more

tempered appreciation of this latter category’s potential. While the virtual might not be

‘concrete’, it can nonetheless still be ‘real’. In other words, the ‘real’ should not be lim-

ited to something tangible. Take the example of a child playing make-believe (Miller,

2011). On the one hand, the world of make-believe clearly is not concrete. On the other

Saker and Frith 1431

hand, it would be incorrect to suggest the reality of this world is not experienced as being

real by the child at play. One only has to witness the seriousness of a child at play to

appreciate the veracity of this point.

In a similar vein, it would be incorrect to suggest that an understanding of the virtual

solely relates to the digital, which is what commonly occurs within current discourse.

Yet, it would be inaccurate to suggest that VR does not – in part at least – problematise

the relationship between ‘the real’, ‘the actual’ (or ‘concrete’), and ‘the virtual’ in ways

that exceed other media, and for the following reason:

The physical space of VR is almost entirely (though never completely) superseded by the

virtual world displayed through the headset . . . Symptomatic of this physical and digital

rapport, and the ensuing regulation of space, the user is potentially more able to become

myopically immersed in the digital space of VR. (Saker and Frith, 2019: 10)

Modern VR systems simulate a semblance of physicality that feigns the materiality of

actual space, even though the spaces mediated through VR are not concrete per se. The

ability to visually simulate something physical separates this technology from the virtual

sensibility of a child at play. And the experience of being placed in a virtual space that

ocularly appears disconnected from the physical environment is precisely the phenome-

nological effect of this technology, and what makes it feel distinctive from other media.

As Evans (2018) puts it, ‘[being] immersed in a VR world might just be the most intense

media experience we can have’ (p. 5). Owing to this intensity, VR has the potential to

simulate experiences that are simply not possible with other media. While the virtual

should not be conflated with the digital, then, it is our contention that this does not mean

the digital cannot configure new virtualities that require scholarly attention. As Drotner

and Schrøder (2014) note, ‘[the] virtual . . .is not necessarily a digital place (although it

may be)’ (p. 29).

In the next section, we further develop our understanding of the virtual outlined ear-

lier, by examining surrounding notions of immersion and presence that are commonly

understood as being vital phenomenological dimensions of the VR experience (Shin,

2018; Slater, 2018).

Immersion, presence and ‘being there’ in VR

For Slater and Wilbur (1997), immersion is ‘a description of a technology that describes

the extent to which the computer displays are capable of delivering an inclusive, exten-

sive, surrounding and vivid illusion of reality to the sense of a human participant’ (p.

606). From this vantage point, immersion is ‘simply what the technology delivers from

an objective point of view’ (Slater, 2003: 1, cited in Grimshaw, 2014). The technological

properties of the medium are understood as determining the users’ experience. However,

while the technology involved is, of course, important in the context of related under-

standings and experiences of immersion, ‘[this] conception of media technologies does

not give enough importance to the key role that interpretation and agency play in creating

a sense of presence’ (Calleja, 2011: 20). From a Heideggerian position, our understand-

ing of any given environment, and thus, how we act in an environment, involves an

1432 Media, Culture & Society 42(7-8)

implicit and internalised knowledge of the said environment (Evans, 2015). When we are

faced with environments we do not understand, our phenomenological mode of being

changes (Heidegger, 1962). In other words, while the notion of immersion is commonly

associated with the environmental form, presence is often understood as being more

cerebral in nature. Attending to these terminological differences will provide a clearer

understanding of the suggested experience of VR.

As Calleja (2011) explains, ‘[presence] is derived from telepresence, a term coined by

Marvin Minsky (1980) in his paper “Telepresence”’ (p. 18, italics in original). Here,

Minsky reflects on the phenomenological practice of inhabiting a distant space through

remotely operated machinery:

This sense of presence is created through a combination of the operator’s actions and the

subsequent video, audio, and haptic feedback. A term was needed to account for the awareness

of the potential to act within two spaces: the physically proximal and the physically remote.

(Calleja, 2011: 18)

The term presence has gradually extended beyond referring to virtual environments

(Sheridan, 1992), and is now frequently used to indicate ‘experience in both virtual and

actual environments’ (Calleja, 2011: 19). As Calleja (2011) continues, ‘[these] differ-

ences are not merely terminological, but ontological’ (p. 19). This terminological and

ontological shift implicitly intimates an equivalence of sorts between sensations experi-

enced in both virtual and physical environments, which circuitously suggests something

meaningful about the very real potential of the virtual (Shields, 2005), and in the context

of this article, the very real status of VR. As a feature of this parity, rather than simply

being the experiential outcome of a certain technology, presence is comprehended as

indicating a state of consciousness (Slater and Wilbur, 1997: 607) that establishes a cer-

tain mode of being.

At this juncture, an argument could be made that if presence is predicated on a par-

ticular psychical sensibility, or mode of being, there is no reason to suggest this sensation

is necessarily bound to VR. And to a certain extent, this is a reasonable assertion. Other

media can, of course, facilitate various forms of immersion and presence. The physical

setup of the cinema, for instance, explicitly limits the awareness an audience has of its

concrete surrounding, while redirecting physical sensibility to the action taking place on

the screen. Consequently, it is now taken as a given that presence can be experienced in

both media that requires and does not require ‘non-trivial’ effort to ‘traverse’ (Aarseth,

1997: 1). Aarseth defines the former category as being representative of ergodic media

(see also Calleja, 2011; Grimshaw, 2014; Lee, 2004; Marsh, 2003; Schubert and Crusius,

2002; Witmer and Singer, 1998). This is not to suggest, however, that VR is not distinct

from ‘non-interactive narrative texts’ (Waggoner, 2013: 117), like reading a book, for

example. Just as gamic environments can provide a level of agency that is markedly

absent from, say, film (see Calleja, 2011), traditional VR has the potential to create a

form of presence that is outwardly ‘dislocated’ from its physical setting (Saker and Frith,

2019). And this phenomenological effect is rooted in the sensorial configuration of the

technology. ‘A VR headset provides an enclosed visual field for the user; headphones

cancel out the sound of the outside world; haptic devices can provide sensory feedback

Saker and Frith 1433

loops of touch, pain, heat or cold’ (Evans, 2018: 5). In the context of VR, then, a more

nuanced understanding of presence is required since it is precisely this experience that

facilitates the simulated transgression of place, which has long been a key feature of the

technology (Manovich, 2001).

A recurring description of the kind of experience commonly associated with VR is the

‘feeling of being present in an environment’ (Schroeder, 2010: 25; see all Rubin, 2018).

More succinctly, in much of the literature surrounding this technology, the elicited feel-

ing is defined as ‘being there’ (Saker and Frith, 2019; Bailenson, 2018; Evans, 2018;

Schroeder, 2010; Schubert, 2009; Slater and Wilbur, 1997). Helpfully, Bailenson (2018)

provides a vivid account of precisely what this sensation looks like when he describes

Mark Zuckerberg’s visit to the multisensory room in the Virtual Human Interactive Lab

(VHIL) at Stanford University in March 2014. As is common practice with new users,

Bailenson started Zuckerberg off on ‘The Plank’. This involved him experiencing the

sensation of ‘standing on a small shelf about 30 feet in the air, connected by a narrow

plank to another platform about 15 feet away’ (Bailenson, 2018). At the moment,

Zuckerberg’s legs began to buckle and he raised his hands to his heart, Bailenson (2018)

indicates he was experiencing ‘a taste of “presence”, that peculiar sense of “being there”

unique to virtual reality’ (n.p.) – which is also a ‘critical aspect of [its] commercial

appeal’ (Evans, 2018: 49). The presence VR can facilitate, then, is very much positioned

as being a ‘dimensional construct’ (Strack et al., 2016: 86; see also Botella et al., 2009;

Diemer et al., 2015; Slater and Wilbur, 1997). VR users are effectively transported to a

dislocated space (Saker and Frith, 2019) that is visually and audibly distinct from the

space outside of their headset.

As a by-product of this process, it is often assumed that the more sophisticated the

technology is the better able it is to simulate a ‘highly presence inducing’ (Slater, 2003)

experience. Certainly, ‘[the] unique selling point (USP) of VR is that this feeling of fidel-

ity with media is a part of the experience of VR’ (Evans, 2018: 50). And there is evidence

that the technology involved is implicated in the level of immersion experienced, and

therefore, the degree of presence felt, in a manner that exceeds non-VR based technolo-

gies. As Diemers et al. (2015) explains,

[although] some researchers have failed to find an effect of immersion on presence, in

general, research indicates that more sophisticated simulations (higher immersion) result in

increased presence, especially in virtual environments not designed to induce particular

emotions. (p. 89)

The suggestion, of course, that the more realistic an environment appears, the more

likely it is to ‘greatly influence the level of mental immersion experienced by the partici-

pant’ (Sherman and Craig, 2018: 383), as well as the ‘the presence experienced by the

user’ (Salen and Zimmerman, 2004: 450), is reasonable. For Calleja (2011),

[at] times immersion seems to be seen as something of a holy grail within the game industry

because of its connection with an engagement that draws players so deeply into the game world

that they feel as if they are part of it. (p. 25)

1434 Media, Culture & Society 42(7-8)

To be clear, however, this longing to create seemingly unmediated–mediated experiences

is not necessarily unique to VR. As François Laramée points out, ‘[all] forms of enter-

tainment strive to create suspension of disbelief, a state in which the player’s mind for-

gets that it is being subjected to entertainment and instead accepts what it perceives as

reality’ (cited in Salen and Zimmerman, 2003: 450).

A significant trope running through much of the literature on presence is ‘the percep-

tual illusion of non-mediation’ (Lombard and Ditton, 1997). Likewise, in the context of

virtual environments, Bolter and Grusin (1999) propose that the logic of transparency is

a salient feature of immersion. ‘Transparency erases the interface and offers the viewer

or user as direct an experience of the represented space as possible’ (Calleja, 2011: 23).

Regarding the experience of VR, then, the experience of presence can be understood as

the extent to which ‘one feels present in the mediated environment, rather than in the

immediate physical environment’ (Biocca and Levy, 2013: 36). Through this feeling of

presence, ‘[the] medium becomes invisible’ (Grau, 2003: 349). It is precisely this notion

of transparency, of physical removal, that is increasingly seen as being a desirable qual-

ity, particularly for game designers. Accordingly, the potency of VR lies in its ability to

create experiences that ostensibly transcend the concrete realm – albeit fleetingly – and

feel real to the extent that an awareness of their mediation is concealed. For Bailenson

(2018), recent developments in VR means that ‘the gap between “real” experience and

mediated experience is about to get a whole lot smaller’ (n.p.).

Yet, even if ‘immersion as absorption’ (Calleja, 2011, italics in original) were achiev-

able or desirable, the concrete setting would still frame the ensuing experience (Saker

and Frith, 2019). To be clear, just because physical space is not an explicit part of the

mediated display of VR, does not mean that it does not affect how any given VR applica-

tion is experienced. ‘If the same VR system and application are placed in two different

venues, such as an entertainment arcade versus the Guggenheim Museum, there will be

a significant difference in the way the experience is perceived’. At the same time, and

importantly, in the context of this article, it is equally our contention that the current

generation of VR involves a relationship between physical and digital space that has

moved beyond the implicit effect of the former on the latter, as well as its concealment.

More specifically, we argue that the balance between concrete space and the mediated

space of VR is subtly changing, as presence within virtual environments increasingly

involves physical space being aesthetically and coextensively woven into the experience

through the development of recent design features.

In the next section, we introduce the concept of coextensive space as a way of under-

standing the emerging relationship between the physical, digital and concrete reality

being enacted by current VR systems.

Wireless VR

Older forms of VR, such as the Oculus Rift, HTC Vive and PSVR, have necessitated a

reasonable sized room dedicated to the ‘dimensional construct’ (Strack et al., 2016) that

underpins the application of this technology (Karpathy, 2017; Kumparak, 2016). These

systems have also required that various sensors be placed around established play areas

for users to experience the full 6DOF within three-dimensional space. Because of these

Saker and Frith 1435

requirements, ‘traditional VR [has] necessarily [been] bounded and physically demar-

cated’ (Saker and Frith, 2019: 10) – and not particularly comfortable (Jenkins, 2019).

Consequently, the phenomenology of VR has been firmly hinged on the separation of the

physical from the digital. By focusing their primary senses on the mediated space of VR,

users are partially able to forget about the physical setting surrounding them. The role of

VR, then, has often been to transport users to a separate virtual environment that fleet-

ingly creates the illusion of difference by removing the visual inclusion of concrete real-

ity. As Manovich (2001) prophesised, ‘we are one step away from VR, where physical

space is totally disregarded, and all “real actions” take place in virtual spaces’ (p. 114).

The design features of the current generation of VR, however, go some way towards

reshaping this relationship between the physical, the digital and concrete space. Exploring

this development forms the exigency of our article.

Recent wired and wireless systems, such as the Oculus Rift S (released in March

2019) and the Oculus Quest (released in May 2019) differ from older VR systems when

it comes to establishing virtual environments, which is precisely why we have focused

on these headsets. As detailed earlier, both the Oculus Rift S and Oculus Quest enable

users to implement a play space without the need for external sensors, which has long

been a feature of this technology. The Rift S and Quest do this with the assistance of

several wide-angle cameras located on the outside of the headsets. Through the ‘Guardian

System’, as it is officially termed, users employ their hand controllers to mark out a

physical area that is then tracked within their display. Accordingly, both systems require

an acknowledgement of physical space and are similarly limited by the available space

of users. When a new user places the headset on, they are presented with the message to

draw their boundary. Oculus recommends the boundary be at least 6.5 ft

× 6.5 ft

, which

is a sizable space to carve out in one’s living area. Once a play space has been set up,

users are instantly alerted if they come close to breaching this boundary by the visual

inclusion of a red grid. Should this threshold be breached, users’ display quickly changes

to a monoscopic and monochrome image of their concrete surroundings, which Oculus

refers to as Passthrough.

To reiterate, while these systems exemplify the current generation of VR, there are

notable differences. The Oculus Quest is the first commercially available VR system that

allows users to experience 6DOF without needing the headset to be connected to a sepa-

rate and powerful personal computer (White, 2019). Consequently, this device can be

played practically anywhere (White, 2019), just as it can be used pretty much straight out

of the box. In contrast, the Rift S needs to be tethered to a Personal Computer that meets

the necessary specifications to run VR applications. This does mean, however, that the

Rift S can support more graphically intensive experiences. Likewise, while Passthrough

is only activated on the Quest when users breach their play space, Rift S users can manu-

ally activate this ‘on-demand’. It is our contention that this current generation of VR

implicates a relationship with concrete reality that markedly differs from older under-

standings of the phenomenological experience of VR; understandings that have previ-

ously been contextualised with surrounding notions of virtuality, immersion and

presence, alongside the implicit separation of the physical from the digital. More specifi-

cally, in this article, we suggest that modern VR systems are forging an altered relation-

ship between the physical, the digital and concrete space, through the mediated inclusion

1436 Media, Culture & Society 42(7-8)

of concrete reality. The work of Saker and Frith (2019) is helpful in beginning to unpack

this conceptual shift.

Saker and Frith (2019) examine emerging uses of Mobile Virtual Reality (MVR) sys-

tems in outdoor environments. In particular, their analysis focuses on the employment of

related headsets (such as the Oculus Go) in public spaces, like a crowded subway on the

way to work. Here, the employment of MVR effectively permits users to temporarily

remove themselves from their concrete surroundings and inhabit a different, digital

domain. It would be wrong, however, to suppose the ‘dislocated space’ this practice is

predicated on is exempt from the effects of concrete reality. As they explain,

our conceptualization of MVR as dislocated space is not a straightforward return to earlier

conceptualizations of mobile media use as ‘separate’ or ‘absent’ from the physical. Rather, the

shared norms of actual space dislocate the user, but remain a constraint upon actions in the

virtual space. (Saker and Frith, 2019: 10)

What changes with the current generation of VR, then, is that recent systems do more

than simply implicate physical space in a manner that remains either implicit and outside

of the mediated experience or limited in its relational dynamism. Significantly, the MVR

Saker and Frith (2019) discuss involved headsets limited to three degrees of freedom

(3DOF). Only ‘the rotation of the tracked object is being reported to the software, but the

position is not’ (Pangilinan et al., 2019: 140). In other words, while users might experi-

ence the digital simulation of ambulation, actual physical movement beyond the rotation

of the headset is not mirrored in the display of their headset. In contrast, the development

of 6DOF coupled with the design features of current systems (exemplified by the

Guardian System and Passthrough outlined earlier) means that the actual space envelop-

ing the use, and indeed user, of VR is integrated into the digital space of VR in a manner

that differs from the spatial practice of MVR. To be clear, these differences equally

extend to older forms of tethered VR.

To account for this shift, we introduce the term coextensive space as a useful way of

understanding the changing relationship between the physical, digital and concrete real-

ity enacted by current VR systems. Coextensive space describes a symbiotic relationship

between physical and digital that is increasingly proximate, extensive and transforma-

tive. This relationship is twofold. First, movement within the digital realm of VR is mir-

rored in the physical, and vice versa, with actual space visually encroaching upon the

digital display, should a threshold be reached. Second, concrete reality can be included

in the mediated space of VR, either in the form of a relational grid or a monoscopic and

monochrome image of the concrete surroundings outside of the headset. An important

part of the development of VR, then, is specifically this visualised symbiosis between the

physical and digital. The purpose of this assimilation, which moves beyond the contigu-

ous and interstitial, is not so much to deny the concrete setting outside of the system, as

might have been the case with older VR, as well earlier forms of MVR predicated on

3DOF, but to incorporate concrete surroundings into the digital site of play. And the

development of coextensive space has a number of implications for theorising the phe-

nomenological experience of this technology.

On a macro level, the fluid connection between the physical and the digital can be dem-

onstrated by the various VR experiences (e.g. Zero Latency) that are now available in

Saker and Frith 1437

many major cities around the world. These experiences (which include zombie out-

breaks, escape rooms and space explorations) are often termed location-based VR (Sag,

2019) and commonly offer warehouse-size spaces for small groups of users to play in.

As Jenkins (2019: n.p.) explains,

[these] are brick-and-mortar venues where participants use virtual reality in custom-designed

spaces freely moving alongside a small group of fellow participants who appear to each other

as avatars when wearing VR headsets manufactured by Oculus, HTC and others.

Importantly, the advancing freedom of VR means that players are not restricted to a

limited environment but can physically roam a much broader, coextensive space. Of

course, the scope of this extension is further accentuated through the advent of wireless

VR systems that allow 6DOF. In the context of location-based VR, then, concrete reality

is an integral part of the experience, with progression through certain gamic experience

explicitly centred on physical mobility and freedom within three-dimensional space.

Here, the gap between actual reality and mediated experiences, which is notably reduced,

fractures with the restricted experience of older VR systems.

Similarly, but albeit on a smaller scale, it is also our contention that this shifting rela-

tionship between the physical and digital through coextensive space can also be identi-

fied within the private sphere. As a result of the physical freedom of current VR systems,

multiple play spaces can readily be established in the setting of the home. Users’ aware-

ness of their physical environment, therefore, necessarily shifts depending upon what

experience they choose. Watching Netflix in a virtual log cabin, for example, might be

relaxing, but it is not physically demanding, nor does it necessitate a large play space. In

stark contrast, a boxing game like Thrill of the Fight, which can be experienced within a

400

ft game space, requires a much higher degree of mobility and interaction with the

physical surroundings. And the incorporation of concrete space here is more dangerous

because of the increased risk users have of accidentally injuring themselves (White,

2019). The developing nature of VR, then, means that users might think more critically

about the relationship between their physical setting and the gamic environment.

Accordingly, the visual integration of concrete reality through coextensive space is not

necessarily actioned to materialise its involvement per se but can also be included to

limit unwanted physical intrusions (White, 2019). In other words, the establishment of a

play space safeguards the digital from unexpectedly assuming a more tangible form.

However, in other instances, the inclusion of concrete reality is not undertaken to limit

its impact, but to allow it to seep into the game space of VR. Indeed, another important

facet of the transformative potential of coextensive space, and the higher degree of phys-

ical freedom it permits is the ability to instigate a different kind of relationship with the

social, which has always had a fragmented and tortuous relationship with the virtual, as

a result of the solipsistic nature of this technology. The experience of ‘being there’,

which is unique to VR, as explicated earlier, has conventionally implicated a ‘being

there’ that has heavily leaned on the digital side of this partnership and divide. As Saker

and Frith (2019) put it, ‘[corporeality] is not circumvented but rather incorporated into

the digital space contained within the headset’ (p. 9). Consequently, through the headsets

relying on external sensors, users’ dominant senses have been siloed into the digital

1438 Media, Culture & Society 42(7-8)

space of VR, which has meant the social connections outside of headsets have remained

on the outside. With coextensive space, this situation changes.

Concrete reality beyond the headset can now be incorporated as a monoscopic and mon-

ochrome image displayed within the mediated realm of VR. This is particularly the case

with current systems like the Rift S, which allows users to activate the Passthrough mecha-

nism ‘on-demand’, without physically breaching the established play space. As Oculus

(2019) states, ‘you’ll be able to check your surroundings without removing the headset any

time you want’. Through this mechanism users can quickly move between the virtual space

of VR and their concrete surroundings without needing to remove their headset. Equally,

users can socialise with those outside of the headset, who have been mediated into the digi-

tality of the display. In the context of the Quest, this also means users can navigate beyond

their established play space to undertake action in concrete space without needing to leave

the virtual realm of VR. While this might sound relatively insignificant and perhaps imma-

terial, this progression alludes to the developing relationship between the physical and the

digital, and the increasing inclusion of concrete reality in the digitality of VR. This is note-

worthy given the theoretical understandings of the virtual outlined earlier (Shields, 2003).

Furthermore, it is equally plausible that current systems might introduce new VR experi-

ences that are explicitly predicated on the ability of VR to move between these spaces. In

the near future, there might be additional opportunities for concrete reality to be more

purposely incorporated into the digital world of VR.

In sum, then, coextensive space establishes the conceptual advancement of VR. The

visual incorporation of concrete reality within the space of VR effectively transforms the

physical setting into a digital representation that is then aesthetically incorporated into

the physical–digital assemblage of the technology. Following this inversion, the virtual

is not limited to the realm of the real but can also encircle the realm of the actual. This

fluidity challenges previous understandings of presence in the context of the virtual

(Manovich, 2001), which have conventionally been measured by ‘the extent to which

one feels present in the mediated environment, rather than in the immediate physical

environment’ (Biocca and Levy, 2013: 36). With the introduction of recent design fea-

tures, the separation between ‘the mediated environment’ and the ‘immediate physical

environment’ is increasingly lessened (Bailenson, 2018). In the context of the current

generation of VR, then, concrete reality is no longer a problem to be transcended, but

rather blended and traversed within the coextensive space of VR.

Conclusion

VR has long been hyped as the next big thing. Yet, the technology failed to gain wide-

spread acceptance through the 1990s and 2000s, and it was not until the 2014 Oculus

Kickstarter campaign and Facebook’s later purchase of Oculus that we began to see a

possible VR renaissance (Evans, 2018). That renaissance is now in full swing, and the

2019 releases of the Oculus Quest and Rift S may be a watershed moment in the develop-

ment of the next generation of VR.

This article examined how this new generation of VR may subtly shift the relationship

between the body, the digital and physical space. We did so through a concept we termed

coextensive space, which captured some of the potentials of the new camera capabilities

Saker and Frith 1439

of newer VR systems. We argued that coextensive space conceptualises what happens

now that the physical and digital are dynamically intertown in new ways that move

beyond the contiguous, predicated on the ability of current systems to enact a pseudo-

camera view through the VR headset. This subtle shift in how the virtual and physical

relate may impact conceptualizations of VR and open up opportunities to blur the physi-

cal and digital in novel ways as the technology continues to advance.

At the same time, this concept also resonates with other media technologies that effec-

tively blur the boundaries between the physical and the digital aspects of daily life. This

kind of blurring can readily be identified with locative media (Frith and Saker, 2017;

Saker and Frith, 2018). And this is, especially, the case with early location-based social

networking sites (LBSNs). Though this kind of physical and digital blending has been

deftly conceptualised through De Souza e Silva’s (2006) seminal notion of ‘hybrid

space’, we would argue coextensive space has the potential to provide a complementary

approach to comprehending the nuanced phenomenology underpinning recent hybrid

reality games (HRGs), such as Pokémon Go. As surrounding research demonstrates, this

HRG can readily impact experiences of place, and reshape concomitant mobilities

(Woods, 2019). In the main, these contours coalesce around the augmented reality (AR)

functionality of this HRG. As Mäyrä (2017) explains, ‘[the] “augmented reality” . . .

component of Pokémon GO relies firstly on the (optional) use of camera and gyroscope

that are used to visually overlay available Pokémon to the actual physical surroundings’

(p. 2). Because of this, players are visually presented with a coextensive space where the

relationship between the physical and digital is similarly proximate, extensive and trans-

formative. Equally, concrete reality is effectively included in the mediated space of

Pokémon Go, as it precisely physical space that forms the visual foundation underpin-

ning the digital architecture of the game. While the sensorial implication of HRGs neces-

sarily differs from VR, we would nonetheless suggest that the relationship between the

physical and digital aspects of these games coextend in a manner that exceeds the limited

experience of early LBSNs. As a corollary, then, coextensive space can be applied to the

phenomenology of technologies beyond VR.

In conclusion, for a technology that has only recently begun to be widely adopted,

VR has a large body of academic theory that focuses on its impact. This article engaged

with that theory, particularly concepts of the virtual, presence and immersion. Part of

our argument is that future VR research should both rely upon extant research dating

back more than 20 years, while also examining how recent technological shifts may fit

within – and sometimes shift – the way we understand VR. This is just one early exam-

ple of one of those shifts, and with the massive investment from major corporations

such as Facebook in the VR space, we can expect to see additional developments in

future years that may further implicate the relationship between the virtual and physical.

It is, therefore, our intention that this article may serve as a primer for future discussions

about this advancing relationship.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this

article.

1440 Media, Culture & Society 42(7-8)

ORCID iD

Michael Saker https://orcid.org/0000-0002-7414-2840

Note

1. It should be noted that this feature is coming to the Quest in early 2020.

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