Nov 01 2009
Flashmob rule
Observer columnist John Naughton has a superb blog post today on Cyberspace and its Discontents which nails exactly the Janus face of the internet: why the net is wonderful/the net is hideous. An adept picking apart of the Stephen Fry/Jan Moir/Trafigura twitter situations.
His quotes from Stephen Fry’s blog also leave me deeply impressed by Fry, whose blog I had not followed before but will definitely follow now.
I really like this perceptive overview, which puts a shape on random thoughts I am sure many of us have had and not been able to articulate:
The pollution of the commons
It’s been fascinating to watch the growth of Twitter. In the early days, it was pure delight: a playground for geeks and early-adopters. In many ways, it still is — at least for me: it gives me a way of plugging into the thoughtstreams of people who interest me and whose ideas are worth knowing about. But once the mainstream media discovered it, the the usual things happened: companies and their PR agencies wondering how they can exploit it to ‘build’ their brands; self-publicists seeking ways of increasing their exposure; and of course spammers and malware artists seeking ways to phish and extort.
But then this is also an old story. We saw it, for example, in News Groups — the original open discussion spaces of the early Internet. Once they were places where like-minded people engaged in discussion that was usually vigorous — sometimes very vigorous — but where, by and large, the rules of civilised discourse were observed. Then the space was invaded by the redneck hordes unleased onto the Net by AOL, and then by pornographers and spammers — and suddenly it was a place where one no longer wished to be.
Blogging emerged partly as a response to the pollution of the Newsgroup space. In a blog one can have one’s say and not feel compromised or intimidated by hostility. You own your own words, as Dave Winer used to say. But then the laudable desire to use the blogosphere as a discussion space took hold, and people began to allow commenting on their blogs — and in no time at all found themselves up to their eyes in the old cesspit of vicious, anonymous, attack-dog commenting with the result that any serious blogger was faced with two options: either spend a lot of time moderating comments to weed out the crap; or devise methods of social control — like requiring that all commenters provide a valid email address and maybe other forms of identification. And then, on top of all that, came the comment spam — deluges of it.
So there is a natural history of online communications, and Twitter is now entering the middle stages of it. Of course it may be that it escapes the normal degenerative path of such virtual spaces, but if it does then it will be a first.
5 responses so far
A couple of thoughts (other than the link is a great read):
1. Its two/half thousand years since democracy was no more than mob rule and God knows that isn’t perfect yet so it may be a little early to expect the rapidly changing face of the interweb to have the answers.
2. As John points out – similar issues (maybe less amplified) have occured before in newgroups, blogs etc – but even in those media – there remain successful examples. Those that are successful become communities as a matter of course. Twitter (and whatever succeeds it) offers a ‘wild west’ experience of life outside the community but without exposure to any real danger. Once the next fad appears the thrill-seekers will move on leaving those who actually derive value from the medium to get on with it.
You might also check out what Fry has to say about Free software:
http://www.gnu.org/fry/
Actually now I’ve read the original fry post – that’s a damn good read too. I’d sympathise with Stephen:
“It is as if I own a billboard on the busiest road in Britain. Some seem to think I have a duty to relay their message. Indeed they get quite shirty if I do not, as if I am a public service to which they have every right.”
A couple of your compatriots (Arrington/Lacy) have had the same same experience.
I rowed onto Twitter around three years ago and since 2006, it has become a safe haven for some of the most articulate agressive narcissists I have ever met. Fortunately, I can mute those voices and even block their natterings from ever appearing in my browser.
Filtering certainly helps. But still, an awful lot of sad bile will live on forever in the search engines, much of it I think that people will be ashamed to be associated with when/if they grow up. It does become an endless struggle against the spammers and fraudsters on top of all that. I was in Newsgroups in the 80s and early 90s in the command line days just as communities began to get hijacked, trolled or spammed to death. There’s always someone who shows up to any community and quickly damages the environment. In under 5 years boards have gone from being virtually spam free to being inundated, as well. I run my own board fairly tightly which means a lot of work from me but nonetheless it is the largest of its kind now worldwide and I think people join because spam is controlled through several barriers and I remove people that ruin the overall atmosphere. A relatively benign dictatorship has its benefits.
I really must reply to John Naughton’s piece. It portrays (at least to me) a deep mis-understanding of the art of communication and also an elitist view on the methods of communication.
Communication is for everyone. You do not have to read or view pornography or the latest economic new if you choose not to. Or even Mr. Fry’s epigrams. It is similar to TV. The BBC is the best in the world you say. So what if millions decide to watch XFactor? 57 channels and nothing on. How many books in your local library? You can never hope to read them all.
Perhaps Mr Naughton would be better off communicating with his like-minded people in ancient Greek or better yet in heiroglyphics, keep the red-necks at bay.
I have below edited Mr. Naughton’s piece for your perusal.
The pollution of the commons
It’s been fascinating to watch the growth of west –European writing. In the early days, it was pure delight: a playground for monks and priests. In many ways, it still is — at least for me: it gives me a way of plugging into the thoughtstreams of like minded elitist people who interest me and whose ideas are worth knowing about. But once other intelligentsia discovered it, the usual things happened: other religions and their spin-offs wondering how they can exploit it to ‘build’ their brands; self-publicists such as Martin Luther seeking ways of increasing their exposure; and of course proselytisers and snake oil merchants seeking ways to scam and extort.
But then this is also an old story. We saw it, for example, in monasteries — the original open discussion spaces of the early intelligentsia. Once they were places where like-minded people engaged in discussion that was usually vigorous — sometimes very vigorous — but where, by and large, the rules of civilised discourse were observed. Then the space was invaded by the redneck hordes unleased onto the written word by Gutenberg, and then by pornographers and pamphleteers and suddenly it was a place where one no longer wished to be.
Newspapers emerged partly as a response to the pollution of the written word. In a newspaper one can have one’s say and not feel compromised or intimidated by hostility. You own your own words, as Dave Winer used to say. But then the laudable desire to use the newspaper as a discussion space took hold, and people began to allow commenting in their newspapers — and in no time at all found themselves up to their eyes in the old cesspit of vicious, anonymous, attack-dog commenting with the result that any serious newspaperman was faced with two options: either spend a lot of time moderating comments to weed out the crap; or devise methods of social control — like requiring that all letter writers provide a valid address and maybe other forms of identification. And then, on top of all that, came the freesheets — deluges of it.
So there is a natural history of communications, and Twitter is now entering the middle stages of it. Of course it may be that it escapes the normal degenerative path of such written communication, but if it does then it will be a first.