At Twitter’s Chirp conference today, the company announced an interesting move. Currently, you can attach a location to your tweets, and not just co-ordinates either; you can boast your neighbourhood and city.
The logical extension, which Twitter will roll out this quarter, is attaching places to tweets. Hmm, sounds somewhat familiar…
Still, it’s a nice concept for someone to implement, one day. Someone who isn’t me.
Disclaimer: This post is personal opinion, the views expressed here are not those of Google, and not influenced by any relationships the poster may have with the Big G.
There have been arguments raging on and offline about paywalls, the commons, old media versus new media, and ‘information should be free’ for — well, it feels like forever now. One of the (many) components of new media under fire is the army of filthy idea-stealin’ bloggers, people who merrily subscribe to paid content and then go and paraphrase it on their free-to-view blogs (or in some cases, just copy it). Paul Carr makes an excellent point about the commoditisation of facts, the human need for information and thus the Internet hivemind’s tendency to trend towards free.
Information being free is good, for obvious reasons, unless you’re someone who wants to get paid to create it. There are plenty of arguments for well-crafted columns, investigative journalism, paid political pundits and so forth. But here’s a thought about the oft-maligned practice of reblogging, rephrasing, and retweeting.
Language is variable.
The more ways an idea or piece of information is expressed linguistically, the easier it is to find — it’ll match far more search queries, as a simple starting point. Although, in an echo of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, perhaps expressing an idea in multiple languages, or with different phrasings and words, could change the way people think about the idea. Even if this happens, the idea reaches far more people than it would have if it were confined to one site, in one language, by one author.
From Google’s point of view, if someone takes a New York Times article, paraphrases it, and links back to it, the data miners jump for joy. Beautiful, delicious data. We learn new things about the relationships between words and concepts — maybe one article said climate change but another global warming. The link-back gives us contextual data that can help too. (Linking to a climate change article with the text “This article on global warming”, for example).
Of course, paraphrasing and rewriting has been going on for years, a staple of the essay or lit review. But as with voice recognition, having the power to implement and use a feedback loop at world-scale is a mind-blowing thing. Google has the power to build an entire semantic web out of paraphrased blog posts, and that’s before we even look at contextual links in Wikipedia or Twitter link summaries. If that’s scary, just think of the magic that happens when you search for something and get a result that isn’t the exact terms you entered, but is the exact concept. With a bit of data, intelligence and an army of semantic web PhDs, it just could happen.
I loved watching this talk by Tom Scott from London’s recent Ignite 2 event. (The other talks are also online – cheers, Daniel).
On Tom’s website, he bemusedly answers the FAQ “Is this fictional?” — well, it’s utterly believable, and certainly threw today’s technology, from social media to flashmobs via 4chan, starkly into perspective for me. Excellent job, brilliantly delivered.
I’m trying to catch up on the notable talks of LeWeb — so far I haven’t seen anything revolutionary come out of it, but a few interesting things, so it’s hard to figure out what to watch (especially since my attention span for online video is absolutely terrible; I prefer transcripts 90% of the time). Still, this talk caught my eye as danah’s work is pretty awesome. It’s definitely worth a watch (and it has a transcript/crib, yay!).
There were two main themes as I understand it; firstly the concept that we all see the Internet differently, and secondly the question of whether we are looking or not. The former is something that’s fascinated me for a while. Being able to see someone else’s world through their eyes — through unedited honest life-stream social media updates, through their Facebook photos, etc — can verge on gratuitous voyeurism. It’s taking the idea of a reality celeb to a new level, in a way. Internet superstars don’t have to be A-list or royalty, they can just be the sort of people whose wry observations about daily life (be it a blog, YouTube channel or even Twitter stream) are entertaining and a form of escapism.
As well as e-stalking interesting people, the more useful (and far more voyeuristic) side of this is e-stalking people I vaguely know. Catching up on old friends’ or past acquaintances’ lives via their LinkedIn, Facebook photos, etc; it somehow seems all right to live vicariously through people if you’ve actually met them. Kinda.
The second theme is about the ugly stuff. There’s a lot of nasty things that happen in this world and increasingly, victims are talking about them online. Bullying isn’t more prevalent now than it used to be, but it is more visible, and the problem is that people assume that there’s an automatic equation between stuff being online and stuff being seen. As anyone who’s ever written a blog knows, you can often be writing for an audience of one, and even if you have a hundred Myspace friends, there’s no guarantee anyone’s listening. Or that their reports to the authorities of your accounts of mistreatment at home will ever get taken seriously.
It’s sort of a cross between Neighbourhood Watch and “eyes on the street“. We need to look out for the disturbing stuff, violence, crime, etc., and use that constructively to help people, to open up conversations rather than jump to conclusions. Because appearance is everything, and someone posting about drug use or self-harm on their Livejournal might be doing it to fit in, not as a cry for help. It’s so hard to find where the boundaries are between the projected image you want to create online, and the real self underneath. The move towards real-time stream-of-consciousness updating kind of helps, but even a simple tweet such as “Help me” needs to be taken in context.
This change, which apparently happened last Thursday along with the retweeting API and other fancy things, completely passed me by. So that’s why I’m talking about it nearly a week later. The big news? Twitter’s changed its default prompt, the question that every tweet is meant to answer, from “What are you doing?” to “What’s happening?”.
I think it’s interesting. Many tweets bear no resemblance to the ‘old’ question — conference and sporting blow-by-blow commentaries to interesting links, pieces of news and gossip, questions to the twitterverse, and random musings. Some did, of course; the almost canonical ‘eating cereal for breakfast’ and ‘in a queue behind the most annoying woman ever’ type of message, the daily commentary on one’s life that, interspersed with commentary on the wider world, is what makes Twitter so fascinating.
It’s not carefully considered and drafted news tweets or observations on the best MLM strategies that make Twitter fun, it’s the unedited stream of pure human honesty that flows from our hearts via our fingers with nary a look-in from our minds. It’s the things that annoy us, the fact that it’s wet outside, the frustration that Jedward didn’t get the boot (or the disappointment that they did). Certainly from the point of view of data-mining, heartless though it may seem, people being… well, people… is an intriguing fishbowl to glance into.
The fact that most people basically ignored the old ‘question’ means that changing it probably won’t fundamentally change Twitter. It more mirrors, rather than propels, a shift in the way Twitter is being used by citizen journalists and commentators the world over — and an attempt to get away from the dogged old ‘breakfast’ use-case that even I trot out time and again. Maybe it will make people stop and think a little when they’re about to post some banality or other, though, and that saddens me just a little.
Edit: It’s also interesting that Facebook’s question is “What’s on your mind?”, staying me-centric; this reflects the difference between the two services rather well, I think.
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