See 30 Stunning Abandoned Towns

A dear friend and colleague, Doug “Blue Skunk” Johnson, sent me a column to read. It was Charles M. Blow‘s article, Seven Months on a Strict Twitter Diet. In it, Charles writes:

Seven months ago, with the first rumblings that Elon Musk might buy Twitter, I made the decision to pull back from the site, and use it only to alert people to things like the publication of my column or my television appearances.

I stopped checking every day. I stopped publishing original thoughts there. I stopped responding to other accounts. Twitter went from an integral part of my life to a tool I hardly used.

Now that Twitter is teetering, it seems worthwhile to let my readers know what the experience of walking away has been like.

Cutting back on Twitter changed my life … for the better.

Twitter engagement, and most likely social media engagement writ large, changes behavior and maybe even the brain.

It took weeks for me to stop worrying that I was missing out on “the conversation,” thinking that I had irrationally removed myself from “the town square.” These were, in fact, classic withdrawal symptoms. I had been addicted. But because so many of the people around me shared that addiction, it felt completely normal.

Of course, one takeaway from the article is that Twitter users are addicted. You could probably say the same of Tik Tok, Instagram, Facebook users, who peer at their smartphones or computer screens day in and day out, moment to moment, waiting for that share-able piece of content that will titillate friends, family, and acquaintances. 

With Charles’ piece in mind, I thought I might share my journey to the point I’m at now.

Why Social Media?

Having spent my own time on social media, my fascination has been in how quickly it is to reach a lot of people. For many writers, the thought of someone reading their writing is impossible to ignore. It’s the same feeling a teacher gets when standing up to share a great idea in front of colleagues…a little trepidation tinged with excitement at seeing their work known. 

For me, that was what got me writing and publishing my work. But there were other motivations. When I first started out, it was writing to get paid. Those checks were small ($150 or so), but allowed me to take my wife and kids out to dinner. As my day job paid more, it got to be more fun to write to publish, to make work known.

Another wonderful motivating factor? To craft something that was of genuine use to someone else. And, as I reach the age when retirement looms large, being of use takes on more importance than anything else. That’s probably why I’ve clung to Around the Corner…it’s my online space to share what I’m learning as I’m learning it. 

Withdrawing from Social Media Outlets

Somewhere along the line, I thought it was important to stake my claim, to plant my flag on all the “major” social media outlets. That’s why you’ll find me, or a vestige, at many social media accounts. I didn’t want anyone to take over my username. 

Now, years later (I joined Twitter in May, 2007), I came to a realization, slow in dawning, that I don’t really care anymore. I’m indifferent to the photo, video sharing, what Charles Blow calls the “performance.” While I think everyone should have a space to share their ideas in written, audio, or video format if they want to, it’s really if they want to.

With that realization, I started to shut down my accounts. I abandoned them, leaving them standing like ghost towns of the Old West. Railroad tracks that lead off to a dead end.

That’s why, when Elon Musk took over Twitter, I was irritated. Who the heck was this dunce (albeit, a rich billionaire) to screw things up so badly? Twitter was my place, a space to connect and read what others were doing.

The Echo Chamber

Unfortunately, Twitter had turned into an echo chamber where few connected or even responded to questions. You’d think, with over 13K followers, a handful could respond to a question. Instead, I found that they simply repeated what others were saying, like a flock of gulls echoing each other’s cries. I attempted to cull out the repeaters, to lock down the followers who shared original ideas. In the end, it was impossible.

So, when the opportunity arose to avoid nut cases using Twitter to amplify their double-eight message of hate and anti-semitic speech, I jumped over to Mastodon.

While it took some exploration, I re-discovered a lot of what I had joined Twitter for so many years ago, and what I had hoped social media would yield.

“The first service one owes to others in a community involves listening to them.” -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

The Gift of Listening

One of the neat things about being a part of Mastodon community is that the smaller size allows listening to happen. Where listening didn’t really happen in Twitter, it does in Mastodon. I was reflecting on this on my drive to work this morning. My takeaway? That the longer responses on Mastodon allow us to interact more. And, as a result, we read more and respond because we have the space to do so.

When I watched my 13K accounts on Twitter slip under water, I didn’t feel sadness, disappointment. Rather, a relief that I no longer had to pretend that this big network actually yielded anything more than an unending cacophony of information unrelated to me.

Mastodon has been a bit smaller community, less performative, more interactive as people rediscover the value in conversation. To me, it feels like a return to the days of electronic Bulletin Board Systems (BBSs), that I served as assistant SysOp and SIGOP on. 

My role on those BBSs of yesteryear? To stir up trouble and encourage conversations. With over 630 people in the EduTooters group, and wonderful conversations on a variety of topics, I’m feeling that interaction and excitement.

Bill Ferriter (@plugusin) wrote:

Speaking for myself – I found a lot of the sharing in Birdville to be more self-promotional than shared for the purposes of engagement/feedback/discussion/implementation. IMO, the slower pace of this app is perfect for deep engagement around resources – as a place to get feedback on that which is incomplete and a place for people to extend and use that which is complete.

My thoughts on the topic agree with Bill’s point:

Let us converse and trot out our curios and such. Escape the echo chamber, mix in new voices, learn something new and find people who talk, not just brand build.

A veteran of many virtual spaces, ever since I was 13 years old, I can say that Mastodon offers a different experience. Whether it will be your experience, only you can say.