Category Archives: technology

Twalden

Henry David Thoreau wished to separate himself from community and society and live, for a time, alone. Not because he did not enjoy, appreciate, or benefit from his participation in it. He did so because he knew the only way to best evaluate his place within it was to live and observe it from the outside. So he built a small cabin in the woods, a brief walking distance from town, on a small pond called Walden. The land on which it was built was actually owned by his friend and contemporary Ralph Waldo Emerson. I consider both literary and intellectual heroes of mine.

It is through this lens that I have been putting a lot of (read: way too much) thought into Twitter, and my place within it, lately. For months and, perhaps, years now something about it has not felt right with me about it. I’m beginning to understand that it is not just one thing but many, many, things that have led me to feel this unease. Here are some of the few I have identified.

“What are you doing?” (A Brief History)

From the beginning, Twitter was a place to post a personal status update and nothing more. It was modeled on Jack Dorsey’s long time fascination with the way New York City taxi cab services transmitted their status and location (Here is a fascinating interview about this early history). The question asked by Twitter, at the top of the post text field was, “What are you doing?”. This was great for a while and, in the early days of Twitter, this is how most people used the service. Seeing a tweet that was simply “@ lunch” or “Coding” was commonplace and such simple updates were the majority.

As more users poured into the service and big companies, activists, governments, and more began to use it, the way this new majority used the service began to morph. It became a place to communicate, organize, and report — thanks in no small way to replies and hashtags, both of which were community created and then later adopted as features by Twitter. In this new usage, revolutions were supported, stars were made, news was broken. There was power in the new communication paradigm that this new usage and these new features allowed. It was through this new use case for the service that Twitter also likely began to see the power and possible business model for the service. As such, they changed the question…

Ask A Different Question, Get A Different Answer

In November of 2009, they changed the question to “What’s Happening”, thus, the role the company expected users of the service to play. It was arguably their first not-so-subtle communication of intent. They no longer cared to ask about you, or what you were doing. They wanted you to take the role of reporter. No longer a participant, but a spectator. And, let’s be honest, the fact that you are having lunch is important to a very small few and likely only you. The concert, or story, or brand, or movie, or revolution, or whatever else is “happening” is important to many.

More to the point, they can build a business around making certain brands, stories, movies, concerts, etc. seem more important than others. They can sell these “promoted” topics as a form of advertising. They can insert them into your timeline. They can give them more to say than they give you. If you want to know “What’s happening?”, just ask them and they will be more than happy to tell you. In fact, they would prefer it.

Who am I? Why am I here?

The header above is a quote by Vice Admiral James Stockdale from the 1992 Vice Presidential Debate. He had been picked as Ross Perot’s running mate just a week before appearing. He was a decorated war veteran, former POW, a true American hero. Yet, most people watching the debate had no idea who he was. He was hoping that by leading with these questions, he would have a chance to tell them. Instead, he was widely ridiculed. Why? Because no one really cared…

It was terribly frustrating because I remember I started with, “Who am I? Why am I here?” and I never got back to that because there was never an opportunity for me to explain my life to people. It was so different from Quayle and Gore. The four years in solitary confinement in Vietnam, seven-and-a-half years in prisons, drop the first bomb that started the … American bombing raid in the North Vietnam. We blew the oil storage tanks of them off the map. And I never—I couldn’t approach—I don’t say it just to brag, but, I mean, my sensitivities are completely different.

I, too, would like to get back to that. My sensitivities seem completely different from what I see on Twitter today.

What am I doing?

Whenever I look at the “Trends” or the popular hashtags, an aggregate of millions of users combined with businesses that have paid for those spots, I don’t see anything I am even remotely interested in there. I don’t care about what they are telling me is happening. My timeline is filled with lots of interesting things to read or think about, but at the cost of my own ability and time to do so. Twitter is rattling sabers that indicate they are going to restrict the ability of third-party clients to filter and access the service in ways that I find sane and sustainable.

Ultimately, I don’t know if what Twitter has become is for me, or the people I care about, or the conversations I wish to have. The things I want to know are “happening” — like good news about a friend’s success, or bad news about their relationship, or even just the fact they are eating a sandwich and the conversation around such — I wish to have at length and without distraction. Such conversations remain best when done directly, and there are plenty of existing and better communication methods for that.

So, therefore, I must take my own sabbatical from it so I can decide if there remains a place for me there and, if so, where and why.

First Contact

Many of us tend to mark our relationships based upon a place, experience, or time period they began. For instance, I have friends I have known since high school. Others that began at past jobs. Still others are tied to events. For instance, I met my wife when her computer broke through a mutual friend who called on me for help.

These marks also infer a relative timeline for the length of the relationship and, sometimes, even its depth. If I tell you about my friend Dan who I have known since high school, that automatically tells you I have known him for a fairly long time. You might even infer that the relationship was a close one if we are still friends after all these years.

If I tell you about a guy I used to work with a particular company, and you also know that this company closed in the late 1990’s, you now know I have known him for a bit more than 10 years and, once again, if we are still in touch it must have been a relationship of some meaning.

We have so many more places we are now. For example, I have friends on Twitter that I have known since we met on Jaiku. I can use that now departed social network as a place – a point of first contact – as any other. Saying this, you know roughly how long I have known them in that context. And what does the fact that we remain friends infer? Perhaps one might guess that we followed each other to this new network after the other one died to maintain that connection.

I’m sure some of us have a few friends that we know from, say, Facebook that are not on Twitter so we maintain a presence on both. Still other relationships can blossom in online forums or blogs that we frequent and comment on.

I wonder if will one day, many years from now, I’ll be able to say, “I’ve known her since Twitter” and have that impart the same sort of immediate understanding of length and importance as high school does?

All of this is to say that these virtual places are as much a point of beginning and ending as those we have long-held in the real world. And, just like school or business or events, these virtual places begin and end, open and close, occur and stop. Yet, as well, the connections and relationships are what remain and the strongest transcend.

Nesting

I installed a Nest Learning Thermostat in our principle home today. I have to say that I am really impressed all around. In fact, it is one of the most impressive technology experiences I have ever had. I think, one reason for this is the same as one found in most Apple products — magic.

Installation was a breeze for me. I’m normally one of those people who are intimidated by such things. That said, in preparation for its arrival I watched the very clear instruction videos on their support page and it eased any fear I had considerably. It made it look so straight forward and easy. It seemed like magic.

Then, initial setup was equally simple and intuitive. There was help exactly where you needed it and clear simple language to guide your way in the few places it was. Every single step had an element of “A Ha!” that is rare these days in most things. And the fact that things just worked provided the “Ta da!” that magic requires.

Then, in the few hours of use, seeing how it operates and begins to learn, is the prestige. We left out for a couple of hours this evening, and arriving home, it was clear it had noticed and began to cool the house down. We arrived home and, in just a few minutes, the heat kicked on and it was back up to temperature within just a few minutes. Magic.

It remains to be seen how well it will be able to “learn” from us. We are an edge case. Both my wife and I keep irregular schedules that take us in and out of the house often many times a day. We do not have a pattern. Thus, even trying to “teach” it would likely not work. So, I suspect, this will be an interesting real world test. Even if it is not able to “learn” our home and away patterns, the ability to turn the heat down when we are away for a few hours and up in advance of our return will likely be pleasure enough alone.