On the latest iteration of FB’s “vision”

John Naughton in The Guardian has a few choice words on Mark Zuckerberg’s recent “Memo to All”:

Dearly beloved, our reading this morning is taken from the latest Epistle of St Mark to the schmucks – as members of his 2.3 billion-strong Church of Facebook are known. The purpose of the epistle is to outline a new “vision” that St Mark has for the future of privacy, a subject that is very close to his wallet – which is understandable, given that he has acquired an unconscionable fortune from undermining it.

The rest of the story here.

I read John’s blog assiduously. You might enjoy it too.



The blind side of networks

Twitter will suggest that you listen to people who listen to each other. Amazon will suggest that you read something very much like what you just read. Even your search engine will try to make sure that you get results that are similar to the ones you clicked on last time. If you go with the flow, you’ll end up hearing the same narrow view recycled repeatedly – yet you’ll think you did your due diligence.

Don’t fool yourself.

Gather information from those who do not communicate with one another. In fact, you want to gather information from entire networks that do not communicate with one another. Truly rich and diverse information comes only when you hear, separately and independently, from “worlds” that do not overlap: from different parts of the earth, different economic sectors, different social demographics, different religions, languages, ideologies and cultures.

via Think You’re Well Connected? Stop Fooling Yourself.

Social networking – a shared anxiety

What I want is to be creative. I want the tools to serve me, not the other way around.

I’m getting absolutely nothing significant done, but I’m supposedly “busy” all the time. And it’s all driven by a shared anxiety: if we don’t keep up, we’ll be left behind; if we don’t flock over here with the Crowd, we’ll lose our audience and no one will talk to us or listen to us anymore.

We’re not so sure they’re listening now…maybe we’d better issue another Tweet or Post or Dent and make sure they’re there.

(Source: cassandrapages.com)

To kill or not to kill my Facebook account

Most people struggle to kill their accounts permanently. Like a bad high school romance, we break up with Facebook, only to flirt and make up, and then break up again.

This begins to make sense when we realize that Facebook has become a prosthetic of our memory.

But not just a prosthetic of memory in general, a simple list on a scrap of paper is that much; it is a prosthetic of our autobiographical memory. It’s a part of our identity, and it is very difficult to kill off a part of one’s self.

via Social Media, Social Memory

Nunca más acompañados, ni más solos

¿A cuánta gente estamos dejando de conocer ahora que tenemos a todo el mundo al alcance de un clic? Nunca hemos estado más conectados, y desconectados. Nunca hemos tenido más amigos, y menos. Nunca hemos sabido de tantas personas, tan poco.

En el mundo virtual que he creado soy simpático, me lo paso en grande, viajo a lugares fascinantes y tengo cientos de amigos a quienes al parecer gusta lo que hago, quizá porque ya no tienen que hacer el esfuerzo de decírmelo. Basta con un clic.

Internet nos permite presentar una versión mejorada de nosotros mismos. La cuidamos cada día, la exponemos en el escaparate virtual y esperamos que se paren a admirarla. ¿Por qué arriesgarse a ponerla bajo la prueba del contacto directo y real?

Nunca estuvimos más acompañados. Ni más solos.

via davidjimenezblog.

Facebook generation gap

I belong to a cohort–the 40-somethings–that has a peculiar relationship with Facebook. It is a cohort that is entirely comfortable with computers, but which also has a memory of the courtesies and languor of the pre-computer age. We read a lot online, but also have newspapers delivered to our homes. We write e-mail as if we were born with the skill to do so, yet we wrote letters by hand until we were well into our 30s.

We don’t take Facebook for granted the way our children do, with their unthinking postings on each others’ walls, their casual use of the F-word on what is effectively a quasi-public forum, their postings of their own photographs in varying states of sobriety and decency. Facebook is a forum that we wish we’d had when we were much younger; so now that we have it in our 40s, we treat it with a certain self-conscious formality, a calibrated theatricality.

When we update our status, we don’t just toss off the update with a casual hack-hack-hack of the keyboard; we think before we type, pondering the effect of the status update on its potential readers, and pondering, also, its impact on our image. This is solipsistic, yes; but it is also consciously gregarious–or, better, consciously non-misanthropic.

via Forbes.