Abstract
This article looks at the unfolding smartphone app adoption culture in Yangon, Myanmar with insights from 18 informant interviews, 3 informal interviews, and nonparticipant observation. Through the domestication framework and actor-network theory, findings showed a unique overlay of actors influencing acquisition and adoption of apps, including: dependent users, “warm-gatekeepers,” mobile phone shops, and Facebook. Mediators such as Android skins, language skills, and other factors (mobile data pricing and network infrastructure) impact the relationships between these actors. Together, the impact of mediators on actor relationships highlighted a filtered means many users adopted to acquire new apps, a “two-step access” model of acquisition. This article traces how users acquire apps given this network of actors, following their journey and how they overcome challenges and limitations in their social and technological landscape.
Keywords
Introduction: Mobiles in Myanmar
Myanmar’s 1 changing social and technological circumstances present an interesting opportunity to explore behaviours in smartphone application (app) adoption. In 2013, in a rapid attempt to liberalise and develop Myanmar after global inaccessibility under military dictatorship since 1962 (Thomas & Robinson, 2013), the government issued two licenses to foreign operators to build mobile infrastructure: Ooredoo and Telenor, in addition to the state-owned MPT. With smartphones being the first experience with any form of telephony (Spotlight on Myanmar, 2016), Myanmar is an interesting country for mobile scholars in terms of unique domestication patterns and mobile culture development, devoid of Internet and mobile legacy.
This study examines how app culture is unfolding in Yangon, Myanmar among smartphone users, based on 18 informant interviews, three informal interviews, and nonparticipant observation. In this greenfield market, it is particularly interesting to analyse the ways in which users accept, normalise, and interact with new technologies. Combining domestication and actor-network theory, this study traces how app adoption culture is emerging and how mediators and actants work to engender different user behaviours in appropriation and incorporation.
This article explores the emerging field of smartphone app adoption where literature is scarce, in addition to already limited literature on greenfield markets for mobile phones. Not only does this article push forward the literature on mobility to the modern context of domestication of apps, this research explores the actants, relationships, and processes involved in the unfolding of Myanmar app adoption culture.
Myanmar and the smartphone landscape
SIM cards prices have reduced since Myanmar opened their telecoms industry, with costs decreasing from ~245,000 kyats (reported as US$250) in 2013, 2 to ~1,542 kyats (reported as US$1.50) in 2014 3 (Win, 2015). Nevertheless, smartphone use is still costly at the time of this writing. Myanmar remains a poor nation, ranking 148 (of 188) on the UNDP Human Development Index with 66.9% of the population earning less than ~2,622 kyats per day (reported as US$2.00; United Nations Development Programme [UNDP], 2015). 4 Historic and existing mobile subscription pricing models have led to specific smartphone habits, like toggling mobile data on and off to not charge phone credit (McLaughlin, 2015). Relatively expensive data costs spurred widespread use of cost-free app transfer solutions like Zapya (Mod, 2016). However, Myanmar people are willing to pay for mobiles, with over 18.1 million active SIM cards (Ferrie, 2015). It is reported only 10% of the Myanmar population owns a mobile phone (Millward, 2014) with an estimated population of 53.7 million (UNDP, 2015); shared phones with family (Min, Fife, & Bohlin, 2014) and dual SIM phones (43% of Myanmar smartphones; “25% of Android devices,” 2015) account for this discrepancy.
Myanmar also presents device-specific problems: app stores and language compatibility. The vast majority of smartphones in Myanmar are produced by Huawei, which often removes the Google Play store, restricting users to device-specific app stores (Do, 2014). To resolve this issue, people must download an Android Application Package (APK) file, accessible through third-party app stores or an app’s website (Do, 2014). Most apps are accessed in English with Myanmar-language content produced by users (e.g., messaging apps); increasingly, apps are localising to gain more users (Wu et al., 2016). Moreover, to use Myanmar language on a smartphone, the site or app must be configured for both Unicode and Zawgyi 5 character encoding, otherwise the text does not render correctly in the opposing configuration (Kyaw, 2015; Thrautwein, 2014). However, Zawgyi has historically been the dominant character-encoding system, with Unicode only recently coming into prominence (Vota, 2015), with versions of Android 4.4 and higher supporting both formats (Thrautwein, 2014). This influences users’ access and dependency on others to help install such services, and creates constraints and limitations to content.
Literature review
This review of the literature is a curated collection of the ever-growing field of mobile phone research and cannot encompass the entirety of the literature. Theoretical underpinnings guiding this study include domestication theory and actor-network theory. Further analysis is guided by market-specific mobile phone studies.
Domestication studies
Analysing changing social practices upon the introduction of new technology is the cornerstone of the British domestication framework wrought by Silverstone, Hirsch, and Morley (1992). The domestication perspective analyses “technology use in context” (Berker, Hartmann, Punie, & Ward, 2006, p. 5), examining issues pertinent to media consumption. Silverstone et al.’s seminal work on domestication offers insight into the process of domestication: appropriation, objectification, incorporation, and conversion (1992, p. 18). This domestication framework helps to examine media integration in everyday life (Ling, 2004, p. 20). Silverstone and Haddon (1996) updated this framework adding imagination before appropriation to account for users’ conception of media integration into their everyday lives before initial purchase. This analysis will primarily examine domestication in the appropriation stage—which focuses on the acquisition of technologies (Haddon, 2011)— similar to early domestication studies (Haddon, 2006), with additional analysis of app use in the incorporation phase.
Actor-network theory (ANT)
ANT, developed by Latour (1987), Callon (1986), and Law (1992) in the 1980s, proposes the analysis of technology at its unfolding, as part of a network of human and nonhuman actors—or actants. In this network, mediators influence the relationship between actants (Latour, 2005). ANT is the “tracing of associations” to see how events become (Latour, 2005, p. 5), allowing for the examination of the negotiations, interactions, and events that lead to a formation of a relationship or power dynamic (Czarniawska, 2007).
ANT introduces the concept of scripts, whereby technologies are partially determined by their creators: designers, engineers, etcetera (Oudshoorn & Pinch, 2003). While designers can try to influence behaviour through scripts, users have an active and reciprocal role in the use of technology and technology behaviour. Focusing on the relationships between actants combats overemphasis of either actant (Oudshoorn & Pinch, 2003).
Mobile phones are a relevant subject in ANT to explore how entrenched patterns emerge. Using focus groups, Cupples and Thompson (2010) traced the development of digital foreplay culture among teenagers through text messaging. McBride (2003) analysed various mobile adoption cases in countries like Senegal, Kenya, Japan, and China, identifying types of actants in the adoption process: users, devices, operators, and pricing. Fortunati and Taipale (2014), in a quantitative analysis, also highlight groups involved in mobile phone use, citing operators, manufacturers, content providers, and users, recognising user agency as the ultimate determinant of behaviour.
Bridging theories
Scholars like Sørensen (2006), Hjorth, and Arnold (2013), and Oudshoorn and Pinch (2003) argue that British domestication studies complement ANT, proposing a combined approach. Sørensen’s (2006) method has even been described as a branch of domestication by Haddon (2011). Although they differ in their analytical point of departure—societal context (domestication) versus technological design (scripts or ANT)—Silverstone and Haddon (1996) have noted that scholars (including Callon) have sought to rectify the tension between the socially constructivist and technologically determinist approaches. Hjorth and Arnold (2013) describe a mixed ANT and domestication approach as a way to show the mutual shaping of technology, underlining the relevance of the technology itself in social behaviour.
The two approaches complement each other’s perceived theoretical weaknesses. Where domestication limits the role of technology and designers (Oudshoorn & Pinch, 2003; Sørensen, 2006), ANT addresses the larger sociotechnical context (including human and nonhuman actors). Where ANT has been critiqued for ignoring human agency (Oudshoorn & Pinch, 2003; Pickering, 1993), domestication adds more “concrete sensibilities” to the process, including a “construction of a set of practices related to an artefact” (Sørensen, 2006, p. 47).
Scholars have defended ANT’s critiques that fundamentally contradict domestication. Technological determinism has been refuted, arguing that meanings are influenced by negotiations between all actants (Akrich, 1992) and institutional structures (Silverstone & Hirsch, 1992). Moreover, human agency is recognised, as ANT also acknowledges how “anti-programmatic practices” override “scripts” in design (Latour cited in Sørensen, 2006).
The sociotechnical limitations in Myanmar make a combined approach appealing. This study examines how Yangon’s smartphone app adoption culture is emerging at the moment of appropriation, the factors that contribute and facilitate this process, and use of apps in the phase of incorporation.
Mobile cultures
Because cultures and the level of technological awareness vary across countries, many studies of mobile phones offer culturally specific analyses in terms of a society’s influence on sharing, creating unique habits, and revealing digital divides.
Lee, Trimi, and Changsoo (2013) show that national cultures can impact the rate of technology adoption, technology transfer, and personal innovativeness, noting a need for a sufficient sample size to generalise to national culture. Drawing on Hofstede’s cultural dimensions (1984), they found that collectivist societies tend to enhance imitation effects—adoption influenced by social pressure rather than self-assessment (Lee et al., 2013). In these societies, people evaluate technologies based on suggestions from “like-minded individuals who have already adopted the innovation” (Lee et al., 2013, p. 27). Also using Hofstede (1984), Rarick and Nickerson (2008) found that Myanmar was generally a collectivist culture, despite some findings detecting individualist tendencies, which they attributed to dire economic circumstances. Thus, socially oriented promotion avenues like peer recommendation and word-of-mouth influence adoption more than promotion based on function. In a documentation of ethnographic research in Myanmar, journalist Mod (2016) notes that farmers rely on the perceived expertise of phone shops to recommend apps.
Mobile phone studies have also examined ways in which users incorporate cultures and cultural needs into mobile phones, expressed in language, habits, and assistance. Technological limitations on language have also led to other “antiprogrammatic” practices to solve issues. Chinese companies created “canned” (preformed) phrases to save time for writers (Goggin, 2005) and physical SMS manuals to teach the art of texting to less literate communities (Lin & Tong, 2008). Other academics have researched mobile use postpolitical upheaval in mobile greenfield markets. Watson and Duffield’s (2016) analysis of mobiles in Papua New Guinea as a new market observed random number calling to create new friendships as a function of novelty. Following the fall of a dictatorship in Indonesia, Barendregt (2008) uncovered cost-saving strategies amid the sudden adoption of mobile phones, building upon Pertierra’s (2005) study of the Filipino cost-saving strategies and resource-pooling. Other cultural groups have shown to rely on community members to share knowledge. Bakardjieva found that information-poor users would consult “warm experts” (2005, p. 98), “immediately accessible” people with more relative knowledge of a technology to assist with adoption. Ling, Oreglia, Aricat, Panchapakesan, and Lwin (2015) witnessed similar behaviour among trishaw drivers in Myanmar in the adoption of mobile phones.
Extensive literature has addressed the issues of digital divides (DiMaggio, Hargittai, Celeste, & Shafer, 2004; Norris, 2001; van Dijk, 2006). These studies, often situated in the context of developing nations, stress how the Internet and mobile devices, while heralded for their emancipatory capacity, also further enhance existing social, economic, and knowledge divides. Sassi (2005) underscores the limitations in technocratic analysis of digital divides (with emphasis on “access, competence, and content”), emphasising the analysis of structural problems enduring and manifesting themselves in digital issues. She contends that the issue of access to devices and knowledge is not simply one of availability, but reflects deeper socioeconomic and structural issues.
While there is a wide breath of literature on mobile cultures stemming from theoretical methods like domestication and ANT separately, few studies have focused on the burgeoning field of smartphone app acquisition, and fewer from the combined theoretical perspective. Two studies focusing on app adoption have used a consumption and marketing framework (Shen, 2015) and the technology acceptance model (Cho, Quinlan, Park, & Noh, 2014). Previous studies from Watson and Duffield (2016) and Barendregt (2008) have also investigated mobile phone adoption in greenfield markets, contributing to the wide breadth of literature on mobile phones; however, literature remains scarce on greenfield markets and mobile apps.
Research questions
This study seeks to fill this gap, investigating the network of human and nonhuman actants that influence app acquisition, and the processes negotiated and preserved within this developing network:
R1: How is the Myanmar mobile app culture unfolding?
R2: How do the motivations of actants affect the network?
R3: How do Myanmar people acquire and use apps, and what implications does this have?
As one of the few countries to get smartphones as their first entry point to telephony (“Spotlight on Myanmar,” 2016), Myanmar offers a unique opportunity to observe an unfolding smartphone app culture, attempting to be rendered durable during this time of rapid change.
Research design and methodology
This research stems from semistructured interviews, informal interviews, and observation of English-speaking and Myanmar-speaking informants in Yangon in February–March, 2016. Pilot interviews conducted in 2015 guided later interview topics. Yangon has been recognised as a high-density locale for mobile phone users and thus a suitable location for research (Min et al., 2014).
Mobile informants
English-speaking informants were randomly selected from people seeking English-language practice on bulletins, with the requirement that they were smartphone users. Additional users snowballed from onlookers who also wanted to be interviewed and practice English, and word-of-mouth from interviewees. Myanmar-speaking informants were recruited at local hangouts (assisted by an interpreter), including roadside food stalls and open-air dining areas. Some interviews were conducted in pairs to put interviewees at ease.
Interviews ranged from 30 to 120 minutes in length, and notes were taken for additional analysis. Signed consent was obtained from all interviewees under the stipulation that names were anonymised.
Themes were identified initially through the interview process and debriefing with the translator, then through the process of transcription. Interviews were recorded, transcribed, and coded using Dedoose Version 7.0.23, a qualitative analysis software. While conducting formal coding of transcripts, noted themes were identified in addition to new themes emerging through recoding and secondary review.
Smartphone informants are anonymised in Appendix A, with participant code “M” denoting male and “F” denoting female. “E” and “I” indicate whether the interview was conducted in English (E) or through an interpreter (I). Age has been included for future research, although it was not used in this analysis.
Other human and nonhuman actors
In addition to interviews, it was important to look at other human and nonhuman actors (actants) in the network.
Informal interviews were conducted with three local phone shop operators mentioned in interviews where locals would acquire new apps and language compatibility. The interviews were conducted with Myanmar-speaking phone shop operators and were not recorded as they had reservations over competition and information sharing. Notes were, however, permitted and taken during and after the interview (with the interpreter). This included gathering SIM card and publicity materials.
By following the actants based on interviews and nonparticipant observation at mobile phone stores, actor-networks were recorded “in the very instances of their ‘weaving’” (Dimitrievski, 2013, p. 23). This provided insight into the discussions, locations, and artefacts (advertisements, packaging, devices) that informed users’ understanding of smartphones and apps, and thus influenced the Myanmar smartphone app adoption culture.
Methodological limitations
This is an exploratory study to offer insight into the range of opinions of 18 Myanmar adults in Yangon. Thus, this study is not nationally representative, cannot be generalised to the greater population, and is not necessarily applicable to rural regions. It does, however, make relevant some dynamics in an intricate social configuration, as recurring themes reached a point of saturation from interviews (Bowen, 2008).
Cross-cultural interviewing also presents limitations and challenges. In addition to interviewer bias, response hindrances, and coding bias, being a foreign interviewer creates ethnic and class divides that could compromise the interview process (Deacon, Pickering, Golding, & Murdock, 2007), possibly amplifying the possibility of participants giving socially desirable answers (Sudman & Bradburn, 1983). An interpreter both heightens and mitigates the problem, allowing for conversation with an insider, though as a mediator. There also exist both researcher bias and translation bias in the double reinterpretation of discussion (Gaskell, 2000).
A limitation of ANT methodology is the role of the researcher selecting the network path: whom to include and what to include (Amsterdamska, 1990). Recognisably, this can influence the shape of the analysis and findings. However, as informants revealed the actants, this has been slightly mitigated.
Findings and discussion
After conducting 18 interviews, three informal interviews with phone shop workers, and analysing point of sale locations and packaging materials, salient themes emerged in smartphone user behaviour, as well as influences and problems shaping app adoption culture.
Background knowledge of the mobile phone acquisition process allowed for a basic tracing of the process. However, interviewing informants allowed for a broader understanding of the actor-network, revealing additional mediators and actants. Results proved similar to previous research from McBride (2003), and Fortunati and Taipale (2014) who highlighted actants such as device manufacturers, network operators, and content providers (e.g., apps), among others. Tracing the actor-network resulted in the complementary method of multisited ethnography to “assemble the narrative” (Geiger & Ribes, 2011, p. 3).
In the following findings and discussions, ANT and domestication will be used to look at the mediators and actants that include and exclude smartphone users from procuring apps in the appropriation phase of domestication, and the use of apps in everyday life in the incorporation phase of domestication. See Appendix B for a visual representation of this journey. First, discussion will centre on mediators that affect the strength of the connections and translations between actors:
Android skins
Language
Other (pricing and network infrastructure)
Then, this study will follow a single actant as a starting point (Callon, 1986), examining three key relationships of smartphone users:
Smartphone users and warm gatekeepers
Smartphone users and phone shops
Smartphone users and apps
These social and technical factors—be they mediators or actants— necessitate a “two-step access” model of acquisition, leading to an indirect and filtered means of collecting apps. In reverse to the “two-step flow” model of communication (Katz & Lazarsfeld, 1995), informants highlighted the use of “opinion leaders” or filters to access apps, “pulling” information and technology rather than information being “pushed” upon them.
Mobile mediators
Before examining relationships between actants, it is important to investigate mediators that guide this “two-step access” interaction. Haddon (2011) highlights the phase of appropriation in the domestication framework as a series of considerations and negotiations in acquisition, which aptly fits mediators and actants, respectively. No single mediator necessarily forges a path between two specific actants—as unpredictability is one of their characteristics (Latour, 2005)—but certainly can work against specific routes and patterns. Informant data show that Android skins and language ability were major factors to be considered that influenced app access. Informant access to certain app stores (based on device type) and English proficiency are considerations before embarking on a specific acquisition route with another actant.
Android skins
Android device type can impact a user’s ability to acquire apps, particularly in Asia where device selection is vast. ANT helps to understand the device properties that affect the acquisition landscape in a social context.
While Android devices dominate the smartphone market in Yangon, with penetration of 95% of users (“Myanmar: The final frontier,” 2014), the specific device types (e.g., Huawei, Samsung, Sony, Oppo, Vivo, Xiaomi, etc.) impacted user behaviour according to informants. On Device Research (“Myanmar: The Final Frontier,” 2014) also reported, among 600 surveyed users in Myanmar, 71% used Huawei and only 14% used Samsung, relating this to disposable income availability. Android device manufacturers can modify the Android “skin,” which modifies user interface, features, and apps included on their devices in different markets (Dennis, 2014). Thus, certain devices, including some Huawei devices, do not have access to the Google Play store, and these users must find alternative routes through friends or mobile phone shops. People who have and don’t have the Google Play app would begin to know their place within the acquisition network:
“Most Google Play people send to people.” (M1-E, 23) “My tablet is Samsung so I download.” (F7-E, 25)
When interacting with friends and family, knowledge of devices was prominent. Informants were aware of the operating systems of their friends (mostly Android), and the types and models of phones. Intimate knowledge of phones in Myanmar has been noted previously (GSMA, 2015), although inconsistent to Ling et al.’s findings (2015), where users didn’t know their mobile number. However, this could be an issue of rural/urban and socioeconomic differences that impact findings. Among this study’s informants, this seemed normal, as smartphone relationships and interactions are contingent upon device systems. All informants except for F1-E were able to go through their phones and identify the majority of their friends’ handsets.
Language
Language (character encoding and English fluency) shaped connections between actants, influencing the ability and motivation of users to use apps.
Language is a mediator that impacts both smartphone users and apps. When experiencing technological constraints on language, studies (Goggin, 2005; Lin & Tong, 2008) showed Chinese users leveraging antiprogrammatic solutions (Latour cited in Sørensen, 2006) to improve communication. Early technology users experienced similar issues in Myanmar, when Unicode standards neglected Myanmar language. Developers created their own “antiprogrammatic” character-encoding system called Zawgyi to rectify this issue. Unicode now supports Myanmar language, but the existence of Zawgyi creates problems of legacy effects, switching costs, and cross-compatibility between character systems (Hotchkiss, 2016). While new phones offer Myanmar language in Unicode for Android Version 4.4 and later, people continue to root 6 their phone to enable Zawgyi character encoding, particularly if mobiles are old and cannot support newer Android operating system versions. Therefore, apps as actants are also constrained by language, in terms of technical remediation of language issues, because app developers must offer compatibility in English, Myanmar Unicode, and Myanmar Zawgyi. It is possible in some apps to transmit messages in Zawgyi while the app is not localised to Zawgyi. Facebook, for instance, has Unicode Myanmar (Kham, 2015), but users without Unicode access can access Facebook in English and transmit messages and posts in Myanmar Zawgyi.
Communication apps in Myanmar have found success due to user-generated content, as use is predicated on communication exchange, with little need explain how the app functions (in Myanmar language), requiring little knowledge of English (Wu et al., 2016). Basic English is sufficient for use when involving simple communication, but apps that rely on English comprehension within the interface may prove more troublesome.
Most people here are reluctant to speak English, but they know English. We do not have the subtitles [translations of apps] in Burmese. Since we start using the mobiles we are very much, we used to using the English version . . . Especially in Yangon. (M3-E, 34) They’re only using Facebook in Myanmar language [typing] since they don’t understand English very well. (F1-E, 25)
Informants with poor English often relied on friends, family, and phone shops to teach them how to use an app. Some informants noted a lack of need for applications beyond Facebook, stating mobile applications were not relevant to their lives (M8-I, M9-I, F3-I, F4-I, F5-I, F6-I). When asked if English was a barrier to them understanding and using apps, all six informants said yes.
English is one of the reason I am not using apps that often. (M9-I, 23) Sometimes I have difficulty using the applications in English. And also the main reason I think is because I haven’t much interest in use. (F5-I, 28)
They could not, however, determine whether English understanding would make application use more relevant to their lives. Further ethnographic analysis of communities and peer groups would provide a deeper understanding of the impact of language on perceived app relevance.
Sources of app education were also lacking. Packaging of SIM cards at local shops had scarce information on additional apps. Phone shop employees expressed difficulty for shops to provide information on all apps, explaining that owners relied on their employees as sources of education. For many informants, peers were the most reliable sources of information.
Other mediators
Telecoms pricing and Wi-Fi availability are two other mediators that shape the relationship between actants. If pricing seems expensive or Wi-Fi is unavailable or poor in strength, users resort to other means to acquire new apps. Ling et al. (2015) noted price sensitivity among rural informants. In this work, pricing also repeatedly came up as a factor among urban dwellers. Many factors can coincide: pricing can change, offers expire, mobile data strength can worsen, and Wi-Fi can be elusive. Thus, these mediators are also unpredictable at times for users.
Mobile actants
The following findings examine two moments of appropriation in the domestication framework, whereby apps are in the midst of exchange (Silverstone et al., 1992) between two actants. These moments simultaneously describe the motivations of users who adopt a “two-step access” model of acquisition. It is important to analyse the origins of any power within those relationships (Czarniawska, 2007; Law, 1992). Within the context of apps, this study will then delve into the crux of the incorporation phase of domestication to analyse “why we use [technologies] in certain ways” (Haddon, 2011, p. 317), and some of the technological factors that influence this.
Users and “warm gatekeepers”
Informants revealed dependent or relatively independent positions in their relationships in app adoption. Dependent users had specific considerations regarding the aforementioned mediators, which rendered them reliant upon other users who possessed these advantages. While similar to Bakardjieva’s concept of a “warm expert” (2005, p. 98), the nature of the dependencies in this study differed. Because the less knowledgeable user was challenged with a problem (e.g., access to apps, affordable Internet, English language proficiency), these experts became gatekeepers—or perhaps, “warm gatekeepers.” Users may be dependent on first-level filters, or “warm gatekeepers” (nearby friends and family), to provide them with new apps, new versions, and more in this model of “two-step access.” For price sensitive informants, “warm gatekeepers” acted as cost-savings (Barendregt, 2008) and resource-pooling methods (Pertierra, 2005). As Ling et al. (2015) also observed “warm experts” among trishaw drivers, a pattern of social dependencies of users on knowledgeable friends seems to emerge in Myanmar. Most “warm gatekeepers” in this study were not Huawei users except M10-E, who was a former mobile shop employee. This is a possible area for further study, but the sample in this study was not significant enough to draw conclusions.
M2-E, a Huawei-user, would frequently consult M1-E, a Sony-user, for apps, since Sony phones had access to the Google Play store. Notably, this behaviour was conscious among gatekeepers M4-E, M10-E, and F7-E, and dependent users M2-E and F8-E. These informants vocalised an explicit dependency dynamic within peer group formations:
So I have to learn them how to use the application, how to go into, how to upgrading version. So I learn for some friends. (M4-E, 38) Because they usually ask me which apps is better which is good. And they usually don’t update their application because of data and we don’t have much Wi-Fi. Usually we use data to download application. I am on a package. (M10-E, 22)
Dependent user M2-E even expressed knowledge of the Android skin dynamic that affects app access:
I have a Huawei, so my friend shares to me. (M2-E, 21)
Although other informants discussed the nature of sharing, they hinted less at power dynamics, and more towards a culture of sharing among friends:
When our friend or family together in one place. I look his phone. He look my phone. We see what his phone has, what are new application. I see one application, this the new. (M1-E, 23) Usually ask new applications from very close friends. One, two . . . three of them. (M5-I, 35)
Many of these “warm gatekeepers” were early adopters, as English-language knowledge provided them with more access and opportunity to explore applications. They, in turn, shared new app information with friends and family, or are sought out to share this knowledge. These findings and patterns are consistent with Lee et al.’s (2013) assessment, arguing that collectivist cultures rely on social networks to influence adoption and knowledge sharing.
Dependent users have an obvious motivation to seek and rely upon “warm gatekeepers,” lacking skills and access to services. “Warm gatekeepers” seemed to act through a sense of kinship obligation and goodwill. None of these “warm gatekeepers” identified themselves as key components of their social group; however, they were cognisant and aware of themselves being the primary information givers. Thus, while power dynamics existed, app sharing was benevolent and, among interviewed informants, not an exploited dynamic. This also meant, however, that they were aware of their role to help their friends both to download new apps and update existing apps through Zapya. Zapya is an essential app to help circulate apps in the smartphone ecosystem. By leveraging a smartphone’s private wireless hotspot capabilities, Zapya creates peer-to-peer sharing, bypassing mobile data fees and Wi-Fi requirements (“Zapya: The Future,” n.d.). One informant, F7-E, downloaded as many apps as possible onto her tablet through her office Wi-Fi to share with friends and family:
I download it because my office is good at Wi-Fi and always download what I want, so I don’t to take apps from others, I want to share. (F7-E, 25)
Her tablet became a vehicle of benevolence and sharing. F7-E, F1-E, M10-E, and M4-E felt an obligation and onus to educate their friends and family on how to use apps properly (i.e., regarding Internet security and privacy issues).
As economic issues are slow to change, this relationship within the network is seemingly stable. However, a decrease in mobile pricing or overall increases in wealth could alter this relationship.
Users and mobile phone shops: Digital divides in action
Informants reported another filter in the “two-step access” model in the app acquisition and adoption ecosystem, highlighting the role of mobile phone shops and the tensions arising from the exchange process. Mobile shops play an important role for “warm gatekeepers” and dependent users alike, providing many of the services like rooting phones for Zawgyi installation, general set up services (email set up, Facebook set up, etc.), and app installation, ranging from 1,000 to 3,000 kyats (~US $0.83–$2.44 7 ) on Android devices, depending on the need for account set-up. The cost of app installation in the iPhone market was reportedly higher, with F2-I reporting ~36,900 kyats (reported as US$30) in charges; shops in this study evaded this question. Like findings from Mod (2016), no mobile phone shop admitted to accepting money from app companies for this service—despite a potential for monetisation (and abuse). None of the interviewed shops advertised apps (e.g., via posters or booklets), necessitating communication with employees. Mobile phone shops are an interesting actant, as many of their interests in the actor-network are unaligned with those of smartphone users. Mobile phone shops capitalise upon the constraints presented by mediators in the network. However, their durability as actants is in question, as mediators can change their relevance (Law, 1992). In many ways, mobile shops are an institutionalised representation of inequality, in terms of knowledge, income, and linguistic education. In discussion with informants, shops highlighted issues present in digital divide literature (Sassi, 2005) like knowledge, disposable income, and social capital.
Informants used mobile phone shops to acquire more apps, for Zawgyi installation, account creation, and app recommendation. Shops play a significant role for informants without a “warm gatekeeper” to help recommend and suggest apps, and consequently hold power:
Most of the people, they don’t understand the application or update new. They don’t actually know. Only they have to, they have to check the news only. They don’t understand the applications or whatever, so they cannot do the upgrade also how to do that, they don’t understand. . . . They have to go to phone shops. (M4-E, 38)
Dependent users that have the Google Play app store still may need the assistance of phone shops to create an email to use the app, to set up Facebook, and for guidance on how to use general email services. From then onwards, they may return to the phone shop or use the Google Play store on their own. Dependent users with other devices may require the mentioned services in addition to app download services. Thus, dependent users often relied on intermediaries—both “warm gatekeepers” and phone shops—to not only acquire apps, but also to show them how to use apps and even to set up an email account on their phone to create accounts on apps, as many apps are not yet localised to Myanmar language (neither Unicode nor Zawgyi). Strangely, users often said they did not have email, but Gmail. It was unclear if users believed the native app on their mobiles called “email” to be a different email brand from the Gmail app, or a different app/concept altogether.
Cost for many respondents was a motivating factor to become a customer of phone shops instead of downloading apps on their data plans. Mobile data price, although increasingly low, still remains expensive for some. This impacts users’ ability to explore the web for new information. Phone shops become both a download and recommendation service. Phone shops reported many Huawei users frequenting their shops to get apps. Interviews with M8-I, F4-I, F5-I, and F6-I showed that phone shops were important support channels to acquire more apps if lacking social networks—in the rare cases they felt they needed them. However, knowledge of how to learn about new apps and disposable income to explore the web are connected issues.
Through the interviews, the importance of social capital became apparent. Haddon (2004) observes that failed adoption or limited use is attributed to a lack of support from “appropriate social networks.” Without these “appropriate social networks,” dependent users must rely on phone shops to provide them with information, without ulterior motives. Notably, without a knowledgeable friend or relative, some users without such social capital will be reliant on phone shops to act in their best interest to download apps. Informant M3-E recognised the two actants as two avenues to secure apps:
When they have problems, they just go to the phone shops and ask for the help. Sometimes they maybe ask each other. I have my little brother, he is very much, he knows very much about the applications. When I have problems, I also ask my little brother. (M3-E, 34)
This poses a larger issue for nonurban areas, as shops must be easily accessible geographically to allow access. Individuals in rural areas must travel to phone shops which are mostly in urban areas like Yangon. Thus, geographic proximity can also be a constraint. Goggin (2006) notes that there is a “lack of recognition and analysis of how power relations and structures shape cell phone culture” (p. 5). This analysis illustrates the way in which power relations become constructed within the network of mediators and actants: Android skins, language, pricing, among others. In fact, the market for app downloading services in phone shops is symptomatic of the microlevel power relations that influence the everyday lives of smartphone users.
Smartphone users and apps
By tracing associations through ANT, informants revealed their motivations to use the Facebook search bar, to make “friends” requests, and use Zapya to acquire apps. Users acquire technology during the app appropriation phase. Therefore, discussion focused on the relationship between users and apps, and the motivations involved in the maintenance of stable translations.
Facebook is an omnifarious product in Myanmar, acting not only as a social network, but also as a search engine, as shown in the participants’ answers regarding their use of Facebook. Facebook is such an essential product that phone shops have capitalised on the installation and set-up of Facebook on phones. A remarkable finding among informants was the use of Facebook as a search engine like Google. Only five of 18 informants clearly articulated a difference between Facebook and Google, while others likened the two products:
Facebook and Google: same thing. If I want to know anything, I go to Facebook and search. (M2-E, 23) I try to learn my friends [teach my friends] Google but they are not interested. They have Facebook. (M3-E, 38)
Nevertheless, all users made extensive use of the Facebook search bar similarly to how users in Western nations use search engines. Google was only cited for work-related search purposes, international news, and technical information, but was described as complicated, with an overabundance of information:
Also no Google, but Google is a little difficult and more steps to reach what I want. (M6-E, 35)
As the Chrome browser is an app, the Google search engine was often discussed as an app, in comparison to Facebook. Facebook, conversely, was singled out for domestic/Myanmar search purposes, with an easier user interface.
Informants then explained the use of the Facebook’s search bar in both English and Myanmar. Currently, Facebook offers Myanmar language in Unicode (Kham, 2015), however, many users continue using Facebook in English while typing Zawgyi-encoded posts. English-set smartphones that enable special English-only functionalities yield search results of (trending) news articles, posts, and public figures’ Pages personalised to the user (Stocky, 2015). M2-E was excited to show how accessible and easy a Facebook search was. He searched for “Manchester United” and a series of news articles and public posts would appear. Such behaviour was so ingrained that, for many informants, asking about Facebook as a search engine seemed strange. Mod (2016) comments that “Facebook was not dissimilar to how many of us in the West see and think of Twitter: as a source of news, a place where you can follow your interests.” Like Twitter (“Using Twitter Search,” 2016), Facebook is an inward-facing application that points to links already posted within its network, letting you search “people, posts, photos, places, Pages, Groups, apps and events on Facebook” (“What Can I Search,” 2016). Google, in contrast, is outward-facing, using “web crawlers” to find publicly available webpages (“Crawling and Indexing,” 2016). Thus, the knowledge that exists in Facebook is contingent upon its existence in Facebook, conflating and confounding (problematically so) conceptions of online and on Facebook. Despite following the ANT process, it was, unfortunately, not possible to discern how this phenomenon unfolded. Informants could not recall if this came about naturally or was taught. Users with lower English proficiency would simply search Facebook in Myanmar language (likely Zawgyi). Arnaudo (2016) postulates that part of Facebook’s dominance in Myanmar is attributed to their early embrace of Zawgyi character encoding, making search engines more difficult to manoeuvre. Wu et al. (2016) also note an increased use of Google after the Zawgyi system was introduced.
Facebook’s friend request function was used to maintain connections and gather information. Among informants, the concept of “friends” on Facebook in Myanmar was almost unanimous: friends consisted of known and unknown contacts. Most unknown contacts had a one- or two-degree connection to a known friend. These unknown friends would be found in various ways: through informants’ friends’ Timelines, liked posts on their Newsfeed, and through the “People You May Know” function and open posts found in their general searches. This behaviour is akin to the random number calling noted by Watson and Duffield (2016) by mobile users in Papua New Guinea in the early days of mobile phone introduction, although the practice differed in intentionality. Many Myanmar users would add unknown friends they believe share interesting information. Informants noted that Facebook was their primary news source. To this extent, informants curated their own news through Facebook to encompass a breadth of sources, including political and technology news. The responsibility of news sharing seemed natural to many of these informants, supporting Lee et al.’s (2013) finding that social recommendation is highly important for adoption: applications, devices, and in this case, news.
High mobile data costs motivated informants to seek lower cost app acquisition avenues, including the app Zapya 8 for Android users. The relationship between users and “warm gatekeepers” features Zapya as a tool. However, Zapya as an actant accentuates the unaligned interests and limited durability of a translation. Like mobile phone shops, Zapya is dependent upon high mobile data costs and poor Wi-Fi infrastructure to remain relevant. The relationship between users and Zapya is a precarious one (Law, 1992) as their future can be impacted by changes in the aforementioned factors. Although the function of Zapya is to transfer files between friends, users also inadvertently use it as a means of discovery. As Zapya requires the physical copresence of users to share apps, M6-E, M2-E, and F8-E would all peer into their friends’ phones to discover more apps. If peer recommendation continues to hold high value in Myanmar society (Lee et al., 2013; Rarick & Nickerson, 2008), the relationship between users and Zapya may endure.
Other findings in this study are topics for further research, like app discovery. While some users would explore the “Top Charts” and “Recommended” sections in Google Play, this was limited to those who had access to the app. Exploration of apps via news articles and technology news was seldom noted. Interestingly, the term “app” was not well understood among English-speaking informants, preferring the term “application”; the term “new app” was also widely understood among English-speaking informants as app upgrades. The ability of apps to retain and engage users is another issue, as cheap smartphones have little storage space and users delete unnecessary apps. Viber was another frequently used app, but informants remarked it had little impact on their app acquisition. Other apps mentioned in interviews can be seen in Appendix B in the App column.
Conclusion and future work
This study sought to uncover how the mobile app culture is unfolding in Myanmar, how actants work within their relationships, and the implications for the acquisition and use of apps. Crucially, the “two-step access” model highlights the problematised relationship (e.g., power of a digital divide) that leads to filtered access. Combining the domestication framework and ANT, this study found a complicated system of app acquisition media (mobile shops, app stores, and “warm gatekeepers”), generally built upon personal “appropriate social networks” (Haddon, 2004) and institutionalised mechanisms in mobile shops. Currently, socioeconomic and technological factors influence actants to reinforce the need for acquisition dependencies (social networks or shops) rather than independent serendipitous discovery online, which creates instabilities in the network. Some of the cultural tendencies mirrored trends exhibited in nations new to mobile technology, like cost-cutting (Barendregt, 2008) and resource-pooling strategies (Pertierra, 2005). Others showed similar yet different behaviours as those found in other markets: creating a second character-encoding system instead of creating solutions within the existing encoding framework (Goggin, 2005; Lin & Tong, 2008), depending on “warm gatekeepers” over a period of time instead of “warm experts” for a moment (Bakardjieva, 2005), and befriending random people for information instead of relying on actual friends/acquaintances (Watson & Duffield, 2016). Watson and Duffield (2016) assert their studies offer universalistic insights into a phase of rapid adoption of mobile telephony; this study similarly offers such insights, supporting and furthering existing literature on greenfield markets and the introduction of new technologies. However, previous analysis did not examine motivations of all actants and the ways they affect relationships in the phase of domestication.
The use of ANT in the adoption phase of the domestication framework allowed for this analysis to trace the complexity of the relationship between actants and the mediators that enabled and disabled the ability of smartphone users to acquire apps. By tracing, collecting, and analysing narratives surrounding the entire acquisition and adoption process, this study was able to understand how these relationships evolved over time, are negotiated, and attempt to maintain stability. Concentrating on one stage of domestication led to a focused analysis of a complex system, allowing for a rigorous implementation of ANT. Particularly for a new field of study, this approach facilitated a comprehensive gathering of information from all the relevant actants. While mobile phone adoption has been extensively researched, app adoption literature remains scarce and this study sought to fill this void and advance the literature. A relationship between mobile phones and apps exists, but they are not equivalent. Thus, this study aimed to provide new findings in the evolving field of smartphone apps.
Further research could investigate multiple facets of Myanmar’s tech ecosystem, including the evolution of app adoption and Internet policy. This study aimed to evaluate the app appropriation and incorporation phases; future analysis could delve deeper into insights generated from this study: social capital and “warm gatekeepers,” age implications on app culture, and the application of the findings in this study to rural environments. Internet policy and app regulation among device distributors is another salient topic, with implications for net neutrality and new market penetration for apps. A lack of policy and regulation could impact users’ app use, which then in turn could influence the type of news media they consume and their understanding of the world. As infrastructure, income, and technological knowledge change in Myanmar society, so too will the relationships between actants. These are crucial areas to study in order to understand what forces influence and impact the dynamics between users and their means of access.
Footnotes
Appendix
Interview informants.
| Participant | Employment | Age | Influencer/gatekeeper? | Phone type |
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
|
Mechanical Engineering student | 23 | Yes | Sony |
|
|
Mechanical engineer | 21 | No | Huawei |
|
|
Medical doctor | 34 | No | Samsung |
|
|
Taxi driver | 38 | Yes | Samsung |
|
|
Nurse | 35 | No | Samsung |
|
|
Medical doctor | 35 | No | Samsung |
|
|
Medical officer | 30 | Yes | Samsung |
|
|
Goldsmith | 29 | No | Huawei |
|
|
Seeking employment abroad | 23 | No | Huawei |
|
|
Student public university | 22 | Yes | Huawei |
|
|
Development manager | 25 | Yes | iPhone |
|
|
Housewife | 34 | No | iPhone |
|
|
Shop owner (fashion) | 35 | No | Huawei |
|
|
Accountant | 26 | No | Huawei |
|
|
Government accountant | 25 | No | Huawei |
|
|
Financial officer | 28 | No | Huawei |
|
|
IT consultant | 25 | Yes | Xiaomi, Samsung |
|
|
Sales assistant | 25 | No | Xiaomi |
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
