Category Archives: friendliness

Jazz and Identity: Comment on Lydon’s Iyer Interview

Radio Open Source » Blog Archive » Vijay Iyer’s Life in Music: “Striving is the Back Story…”.

Sounds like it will be a while before the United States becomes a truly post-racial society.

Iyer can define himself as American and he can even one-up other US citizens in Americanness, but he’s still defined by his having “a Brahmin Indian name and heritage, and a Yale degree in physics.”

Something by which I was taken aback, at IU Bloomington ten years ago, is the fact that those who were considered to be “of color” (as if colour were the factor!) were expected to mostly talk about their “race” whereas those who were considered “white” were expected to remain silent when notions of “race” and ethnicity came up for discussion. Granted, ethnicity and “race” were frequently discussed, so it was possible to hear the voices of those “of color” on a semi-regular basis. Still, part of my culture shock while living in the MidWest was the conspicuous silence of students with brilliant ideas who happened to be considered African-American.

Something similar happened with gender, on occasion, in that women were strongly encouraged to speak out…when a gender angle was needed. Thankfully, some of these women (at least, among those whose “racial” identity was perceived as neutral) did speak up, regardless of topic. But there was still an expectation that when they did, their perspective was intimately gendered.

Of course, some gender lines were blurred: the gender ratio among faculty members was relatively balanced (probably more women than men), the chair of the department was a woman for a time, and one department secretary was a man. But women’s behaviours were frequently interpreted in a gender-specific way, while men were often treated as almost genderless. Male privilege manifested itself in the fact that it was apparently difficult for women not to be gender-conscious.

Those of us who were “international students” had the possibility to decide when our identities were germane to the discussion. At least, I was able to push my «différence» when I so pleased, often by becoming the token Francophone in discussions about Francophone scholars, yet being able not to play the “Frenchie card” when I didn’t find it necessary. At the same time, my behaviour may have been deemed brash and a fellow student teased me by calling me “Mr. Snottyhead.” As an instructor later told me, “it’s just that, since you’re Canadian, we didn’t expect you to be so different.” (My response: “I know some Canadians who would despise that comment. But since I’m Québécois, it doesn’t matter.”) This was in reference to a seminar with twenty students, including seven “internationals”: one Zimbabwean, one Swiss-German, two Koreans, one Japanese, one Kenyan, and one “Québécois of Swiss heritage.” In this same graduate seminar, the instructor expected everyone to know of Johnny Appleseed and of John Denver.

Again, a culture shock. Especially for someone coming from a context in which the ethnic identity of the majority is frequently discussed and in which cultural identity is often “achieved” instead of being ascribed. This isn’t to say that Quebec society is devoid of similar issues. Everybody knows, Quebec has more than its fair share of identity-based problems. The fact of the matter is, Quebec society is entangled in all sorts of complex identity issues, and for many of those, Quebec may appear underprepared. The point is precisely that, in Quebec, identity politics is a matter for everyone. Nobody has the luxury to treat their identity as “neutral.”

Going back to Iyer… It’s remarkable that his thoughtful comments on Jazz end up associated more with his background than with his overall approach. As if what he had to say were of a different kind than those from Roy Hayes or Robin Kelley. As if Iyer had more in common with Koo Nimo than with, say, Sonny Rollins. Given Lydon’s journalistic background, it’s probably significant that the Iyer conversation carried the “Life in Music” name of  the show’s music biography series yet got “filed under” the show’s “Year of India” series. I kid you not.

And this is what we hear at the end of each episode’s intro:

This is Open Source, from the Watson Institute at Brown University. An American conversation with Global attitude, we call it.

Guess the “American” part was taken by Jazz itself, so Iyer was assigned the “Global” one. Kind of wishing the roles were reversed, though Iyer had rehearsed his part.

But enough symbolic interactionism. For now.

During Lydon’s interview with Iyer, I kept being reminded of a conversation (in Brookline)  with fellow Canadian-ethnomusicologist-and-Jazz-musician Tanya Kalmanovitch. Kalmanovitch had fantastic insight to share on identity politics at play through the international (yet not post-national) Jazz scene. In fact, methinks she’d make a great Open Source guest. She lives in Brooklyn but works as assistant chair of contemporary improv at NEC, in B-Town, so Lydon could probably meet her locally.


In some ways, Jazz is more racialized and ethnicized now than it was when Howie Becker published Outsiders. (hey, I did hint symbolic interactionism’d be back!). It’s also very national, gendered, compartmentalized… In a word: modern. Of course, Jazz (or something like it) shall play a role in postmodernity. But only if it sheds itself of its modernist trappings. We should hear out Kevin Mahogany’s (swung) comments about a popular misconception:

Some cats work from nine to five
Change their life for line of jive
Never had foresight to see
Where the changes had to be
Thought that they had heard the word
Thought it all died after Bird
But we’re still swingin’

The following anecdote seems à propos.

Branford Marsalis quartet on stage outside at the Indy Jazz Fest 1999. Some dude in the audience starts heckling the band: “Play something we know!” Marsalis, not losing his cool, engaged the heckler in a conversation on Jazz history, pushing the envelope, playing the way you want to play, and expected behaviour during shows. Though the audience sounded divided when Marsalis advised the heckler to go to Chaka Khan‘s show on the next stage over, if that was more to the heckler’s liking, there wasn’t a major shift in the crowd and, hopefully, most people understood how respectful Marsalis’s comments really were. What was especially precious is when Marsalis asked the heckler: “We’re cool, man?”

It’s nothing personal.


Présence féminine et culture geek (Journée Ada Lovelace) #ald09

En 2009, la journée de la femme a été hypothéquée d’une heure, dans certaines contrées qui sont passées à l’heure d’été le 8 mars. Pourtant, plus que jamais, c’est aux femmes que nous devrions accorder plus de place. Cette Journée internationale en l’honneur d’Ada Lovelace et des femmes dans les domaines technologiques est une excellente occasion pour discuter de l’importance de la présence féminine pour la pérennité sociale.

Pour un féministe mâle, le fait de parler de condition féminine peut poser certains défis. Qui suis-je, pour parler des femmes? De quel droit pourrais-je m’approprier de la parole qui devrait, selon moi, être accordée aux femmes? Mes propos ne sont-ils pas teintés de biais? C’est donc d’avantage en tant qu’observateur de ce que j’ai tendance à appeler la «culture geek» (voire la «niche geek» ou la «foule geek») que je parle de cette présence féminine.

Au risque de tomber dans le panneau du stéréotype, j’oserais dire qu’une présence accrue des femmes en milieu geek peut avoir des impacts intéressants en fonction de certains rôles impartis aux femmes dans diverses sociétés liées à la culture geek. En d’autres termes, j’aimerais célébrer le pouvoir féminin, bien plus fondamntal que la «force» masculine.

Je fais en cela référence à des notions sur les femmes et les hommes qui m’ont été révélées au cours de mes recherches sur les confréries de chasseurs, au Mali. En apparence exclusivement mâles, les confréries de chasseurs en Afrique de l’ouest accordent une place prépondérante à la féminité. Comme le dit le proverbe, «nous sommes tous dans les bras de nos mères» (bèè y’i ba bolo). Si le père, notre premier rival (i fa y’i faden folo de ye), peut nous donner la force physique, c’est la mère qui nous donne la puissance, le vrai pouvoir.

Loin de moi l’idée d’assigner aux femmes un pouvoir qui ne viendrait que de leur capacité à donner naissance. Ce n’est pas uniquement en tant que mère que la femme se doit d’être respectée. Bien au contraire, les divers rôles des femmes ont tous à être célébrés. Ce qui donne à la maternité une telle importance, d’un point de vue masculin, c’est son universalité: un homme peut ne pas avoir de sœur, d’épouse ou de fille, il peut même ne pas connaître l’identité précise de son père, il a au minimum eu un contact avec sa mère, de la conception à la naissance.

C’est souvent par référence à la maternité que les hommes conçoivent le respect le plus inconditionnel pour la femme. Et l’image maternelle ne doit pas être négligée, même si elle est souvent stéréotypée. Même si le terme «materner» a des connotations péjoratives, il fait appel à un soi adapté et sans motif spécifique. La culture geek a-t-elle besoin de soins maternels?

Une étude récente s’est penchée sur la dimension hormonale des activités des courtiers de Wall Street, surtout en ce qui a trait à la prise de risques. Selon cette étude (décrite dans une baladodiffusion de vulgarisation scientifique), il y aurait un lien entre certains taux d’hormones et un comportement fondé sur le profit à court terme. Ces hormones sont surtout présentes chez de jeunes hommes, qui constituent la majorité de ce groupe professionnel. Si les résultats de cette étude sont valables, un groupe plus diversifié de courtiers, au niveau du sexe et de l’âge, risque d’être plus prudent qu’un groupe dominé par de jeunes hommes.

Malgré d’énormes différences dans le détail, la culture geek a quelques ressemblances avec la composition de Wall Street, du moins au point de vue hormonal. Si l’appât du gain y est moins saillant que sur le plancher de la Bourse, la culture geek accorde une très large place au culte méritocratique de la compétition et à l’image de l’individu brillant et tout-puissant. La prise de risques n’est pas une caractéristique très visible de la culture geek, mais l’approche «résolution de problèmes» (“troubleshooting”) évoque la décision hâtive plutôt que la réflexion approfondie. Le rôle du dialogue équitable et respectueux, sans en être évacué, n’y est que rarement mis en valeur. La culture geek est «internationale», en ce sens qu’elle trouve sa place dans divers lieux du Globe (généralement définis avec une certaine précision en cebuees névralgiques comme la Silicon Valley). Elle est pourtant loin d’être représentative de la diversité humaine. La proportion bien trop basse de femmes liées à la culture geek est une marque importante de ce manque de diversité. Un groupe moins homogène rendrait plus prégnante la notion de coopération et, avec elle, un plus grand soucis de la dignité humaine. Après tout, le vrai humanisme est autant philogyne que philanthrope.

Un principe similaire est énoncé dans le cadre des soins médicaux. Sans être assignées à des tâches spécifiques, associées à leur sexe, la présence de certaines femmes-médecins semble améliorer certains aspects du travail médical. Il y a peut-être un stéréotype implicite dans tout ça et les femmes du secteur médical ne sont probablement pas traitées d’une bien meilleure façon que les femmes d’autres secteurs d’activité. Pourtant, au-delà du stéréotype, l’association entre féminité et relation d’aide semble se maintenir dans l’esprit des membres de certaines sociétés et peut être utilisée pour rendre la médecine plus «humaine», tant dans la diversité que dans cette notion d’empathie raisonnée, évoquée par l’humanisme.

Je ne peux m’empêcher de penser à cette remarquable expérience, il y a quelques années déjà, de participer à un colloque académique à forte présence féminine. En plus d’une proportion élevée de femmes, ce colloque sur la nourriture et la culture donnait la part belle à l’image de la mère nourricière, à l’influence fondamentale de la sphère donestique sur la vie sociale. Bien que mâle, je m’y suis senti à mon aise et je garde de ces quelques jours l’idée qu’un monde un tant soit peu féminisé pouvait avoir des effets intéressants, d’un point de vue social. Un groupe accordant un réel respect à la condition féminine peut être associé à une ambiance empreinte de «soin», une atmosphère “nurturing”.

Le milieu geek peut être très agréable, à divers niveaux, mais la notion de «soin», l’empathie, voire même l’humanisme n’en sont pas des caractéristiques très évidentes. Un monde geek accordant plus d’importance à la présence des femmes serait peut-être plus humain que ce qu’un portrait global de la culture geek semble présager.

Et n’est-ce pas ce qui s’est passé? Le ‘Net s’est partiellement féminisé au cours des dix dernières années et l’émergence du média social est intimement lié à cette transformation «démographique».

D’aucuns parlent de «démocratisation» d’Internet, usant d’un champ lexical associé au journalisme et à la notion d’État-Nation. Bien qu’il s’agisse de parler d’accès plus uniforme aux moyens technologiques, la source de ce discours se situe dans une vision spécifique de la structure social. Un relent de la Révolution Industrielle, peut-être? Le ‘Net étant construit au-delà des frontières politiques, cette vision du monde semble peu appropriée à la communication mondialisée. D’ailleurs, qu’entend-on vraiment par «démocratisation» d’Internet? La participation active de personnes diversifiées aux processus décisionnels qui créent continuellement le ‘Net? La simple juxtaposition de personnes provenant de milieux socio-économiques distincts? La possibilité pour la majorité de la planète d’utiliser certains outils dans le but d’obtenir ces avantages auxquels elle a droit, par prérogative statistique? Si c’est le cas, il en reviendrait aux femmes, majoritaires sur le Globe, de décider du sort du ‘Net. Pourtant, ce sont surtout des hommes qui dominent le ‘Net. Le contrôle exercé par les hommes semble indirect mais il n’en est pas moins réel.

Cet état des choses a tendance à changer. Bien qu’elles ne soient toujours pas dominantes, les femmes sont de plus en plus présentes, en-ligne. Certaines recherches statistiques semblent d’ailleurs leur assigner la majorité dans certaines sphères d’activité en-ligne. Mais mon approche est holistique et qualitative, plutôt que statistique et déterministe. C’est plutôt au sujet des rôles joués par les femmes que je pense. Si certains de ces rôles semblent sortir en ligne direct du stéréotype d’inégalité sexuelle du milieu du XXè siècle, c’est aussi en reconnaissant l’emprise du passé que nous pouvons comprendre certaines dimensions de notre présent. Les choses ont changé, soit. La conscience de ce changement informe certains de nos actes. Peu d’entre nous ont complètement mis de côté cette notion que notre «passé à tous» était patriarcal et misogyne. Et cette notion conserve sa signifiance dans nos gestes quotidiens puisque nous nous comparons à un modèle précis, lié à la domination et à la lutte des classes.

Au risque, encore une fois, de faire appel à des stéréotypes, j’aimerais parler d’une tendance que je trouve fascinante, dans le comportement de certaines femmes au sein du média social. Les blogueuses, par exemple, ont souvent réussi à bâtir des communautés de lectrices fidèles, des petits groupes d’amies qui partagent leurs vies en public. Au lieu de favoriser le plus grand nombre de visites, plusieurs femmes ont fondé leurs activités sur la blogosphère sur des groupes relativement restreints mais très actifs. D’ailleurs, certains blogues de femmes sont l’objet de longues discussions continues, liant les billets les uns aux autres et, même, dépassant le cadre du blogue.

À ce sujet, je fonde certaines de mes idées sur quelques études du phénomène de blogue, parues il y a déjà plusieurs années (et qu’il me serait difficile de localiser en ce moment) et sur certaines observations au sein de certaines «scènes geeks» comme Yulblog. Lors de certains événements mettant en contacts de nombreuses blogueuses, certaines d’entre elles semblaient préférer demeurer en groupe restreint pour une part importante de la durée de l’événement que de multiplier les nouveaux contacts. Il ne s’agit pas ici d’une restriction, certaines femmes sont mieux à même de provoquer l’«effet du papillon social» que la plupart des hommes. Mais il y a une force tranquille dans ces petits regroupements de femmes, qui fondent leur participation à la blogosphère sur des contacts directs et forts plutôt que sur la «pêche au filet». C’est souvent par de très petits groupes très soudés que les changements sociaux se produisent et, des “quilting bees” aux blogues de groupes de femmes, il y a une puissance ignorée.

Il serait probablement abusif de dire que c’est la présence féminine qui a provoqué l’éclosion du média social au cours des dix dernières années. Mais la présence des femmes est liée au fait que le ‘Net ait pu dépasser la «niche geek». Le domaine de ce que certains appellent le «Web 2.0» (ou la sixième culture d’Internet) n’est peut-être pas plus démocratique que le ‘Net du début des années 1990. Mais il est clairement moins exclusif et plus accueillant.

Comme ma tendre moitié l’a lu sur la devanture d’une taverne: «Bienvenue aux dames!»

Les billets publiés en l’honneur de la Journée Ada Lovelace devaient, semble-t-il, se pencher sur des femmes spécifiques, œuvrant dans des domaines technologiques. J’ai préféré «réfléchir à plume haute» au sujet de quelques éléments qui me trottaient dans la tête. Il serait toutefois de bon ton pour moi de mentionner des noms et de ne pas consigner ce billet à une observation purement macroscopique et impersonnelle. Étant peu porté sur l’individualisme, je préfère citer plusieurs femmes, plutôt que de me concentrer sur une d’entre elles. D’autant plus que la femme à laquelle je pense avec le plus d’intensité dit désirer garder une certaine discrétion et, même si elle blogue depuis bien plus longtemps que moi et qu’elle sait très bien se débrouiller avec les outils en question, elle prétend ne pas être associée à la technologie.

J’ai donc décidé de procéder à une simple énumération (alphabétique, j’aime pas les rangs) de quelques femmes dont j’apprécie le travail et qui ont une présence Internet facilement identifiable. Certaines d’entre elles sont très proches de moi. D’autres planent au-dessus de milieux auxquels je suis lié. D’autres encore sont des présences discrètes ou fortes dans un quelconque domaine que j’associe à la culture geek et/ou au média social. Évidemment, j’en oublie des tonnes. Mais c’est un début. Continuons le combat! 😉

Social Networks and Microblogging

Microblogging (Laconica, Twitter, etc.) is still a hot topic. For instance, during the past few episodes of This Week in Tech, comments were made about the preponderance of Twitter as a discussion theme: microblogging is so prominent on that show that some people complain that there’s too much talk about Twitter. Given the centrality of Leo Laporte’s podcast in geek culture (among Anglos, at least), such comments are significant.

The context for the latest comments about TWiT coverage of Twitter had to do with Twitter’s financials: during this financial crisis, Twitter is given funding without even asking for it. While it may seem surprising at first, given the fact that Twitter hasn’t publicized a business plan and doesn’t appear to be profitable at this time, 

Along with social networking, microblogging is even discussed in mainstream media. For instance, Médialogues (a media critique on Swiss national radio) recently had a segment about both Facebook and Twitter. Just yesterday, Comedy Central’s The Daily Show with Jon Stewart made fun of compulsive twittering and mainstream media coverage of Twitter (original, Canadian access).

Clearly, microblogging is getting some mindshare.

What the future holds for microblogging is clearly uncertain. Anything can happen. My guess is that microblogging will remain important for a while (at least a few years) but that it will transform itself rather radically. Chances are that other platforms will have microblogging features (something Facebook can do with status updates and something Automattic has been trying to do with some WordPress themes). In these troubled times, Montreal startup received some funding to continue developing its open microblogging platform.  Jaiku, bought by Google last year, is going open source, which may be good news for microblogging in general. Twitter itself might maintain its “marketshare” or other players may take over. There’s already a large number of third-party tools and services making use of Twitter, from Mahalo Answers to Remember the Milk, Twistory to TweetDeck.

Together, these all point to the current importance of microblogging and the potential for further development in that sphere. None of this means that microblogging is “The Next Big Thing.” But it’s reasonable to expect that microblogging will continue to grow in use.

(Those who are trying to grok microblogging, Common Craft’s Twitter in Plain English video is among the best-known descriptions of Twitter and it seems like an efficient way to “get the idea.”)

One thing which is rarely mentioned about microblogging is the prominent social structure supporting it. Like “Social Networking Systems” (LinkedIn, Facebook, Ning, MySpace…), microblogging makes it possible for people to “connect” to one another (as contacts/acquaintances/friends). Like blogs, microblogging platforms make it possible to link to somebody else’s material and get notifications for some of these links (a bit like pings and trackbacks). Like blogrolls, microblogging systems allow for lists of “favourite authors.” Unlike Social Networking Systems but similar to blogrolls, microblogging allow for asymmetrical relations, unreciprocated links: if I like somebody’s microblogging updates, I can subscribe to those (by “following” that person) and publicly show my appreciation of that person’s work, regardless of whether or not this microblogger likes my own updates.

There’s something strangely powerful there because it taps the power of social networks while avoiding tricky issues of reciprocity, “confidentiality,” and “intimacy.”

From the end user’s perspective, microblogging contacts may be easier to establish than contacts through Facebook or Orkut. From a social science perspective, microblogging links seem to approximate some of the fluidity found in social networks, without adding much complexity in the description of the relationships. Subscribing to someone’s updates gives me the role of “follower” with regards to that person. Conversely, those I follow receive the role of “following” (“followee” would seem logical, given the common “-er”/”-ee” pattern). The following and follower roles are complementary but each is sufficient by itself as a useful social link.

Typically, a microblogging system like Twitter or qualifies two-way connections as “friendship” while one-way connections could be labelled as “fandom” (if Andrew follows Betty’s updates but Betty doesn’t follow Andrew’s, Andrew is perceived as one of Betty’s “fans”). Profiles on microblogging systems are relatively simple and public, allowing for low-involvement online “presence.” As long as updates are kept public, anybody can connect to anybody else without even needing an introduction. In fact, because microblogging systems send notifications to users when they get new followers (through email and/or SMS), subscribing to someone’s update is often akin to introducing yourself to that person. 

Reciprocating is the object of relatively intense social pressure. A microblogger whose follower:following ratio is far from 1:1 may be regarded as either a snob (follower:following much higher than 1:1) or as something of a microblogging failure (follower:following much lower than 1:1). As in any social context, perceived snobbery may be associated with sophistication but it also carries opprobrium. Perry Belcher  made a video about what he calls “Twitter Snobs” and some French bloggers have elaborated on that concept. (Some are now claiming their right to be Twitter Snobs.) Low follower:following ratios can result from breach of etiquette (for instance, ostentatious self-promotion carried beyond the accepted limit) or even non-human status (many microblogging accounts are associated to “bots” producing automated content).

The result of the pressure for reciprocation is that contacts are reciprocated regardless of personal relations.  Some users even set up ways to automatically follow everyone who follows them. Despite being tricky, these methods escape the personal connection issue. Contrary to Social Networking Systems (and despite the term “friend” used for reciprocated contacts), following someone on a microblogging service implies little in terms of friendship.

One reason I personally find this fascinating is that specifying personal connections has been an important part of the development of social networks online. For instance, long-defunct (one of the earliest Social Networking Systems to appear online) required of users that they specified the precise nature of their relationship to users with whom they were connected. Details escape me but I distinctly remember that acquaintances, colleagues, and friends were distinguished. If I remember correctly, only one such personal connection was allowed for any pair of users and this connection had to be confirmed before the two users were linked through the system. Facebook’s method to account for personal connections is somewhat more sophisticated despite the fact that all contacts are labelled as “friends” regardless of the nature of the connection. The uniform use of the term “friend” has been decried by many public commentators of Facebook (including in the United States where “friend” is often applied to any person with whom one is simply on friendly terms).

In this context, the flexibility with which microblogging contacts are made merits consideration: by allowing unidirectional contacts, microblogging platforms may have solved a tricky social network problem. And while the strength of the connection between two microbloggers is left unacknowledged, there are several methods to assess it (for instance through replies and republished updates).

Social contacts are the very basis of social media. In this case, microblogging represents a step towards both simplified and complexified social contacts.

Which leads me to the theme which prompted me to start this blogpost: event-based microblogging.

I posted the following blog entry (in French) about event-based microblogging, back in November.

Microblogue d’événement

I haven’t received any direct feedback on it and the topic seems to have little echoes in the social media sphere.

During the last PodMtl meeting on February 18, I tried to throw my event-based microblogging idea in the ring. This generated a rather lengthy between a friend and myself. (Because I don’t want to put words in this friend’s mouth, who happens to be relatively high-profile, I won’t mention this friend’s name.) This friend voiced several objections to my main idea and I got to think about this basic notion a bit further. At the risk of sounding exceedingly opinionated, I must say that my friend’s objections actually comforted me in the notion that my “event microblog” idea makes a lot of sense.

The basic idea is quite simple: microblogging instances tied to specific events. There are technical issues in terms of hosting and such but I’m mostly thinking about associating microblogs and events.

What I had in mind during the PodMtl discussion has to do with grouping features, which are often requested by Twitter users (including by Perry Belcher who called out Twitter Snobs). And while I do insist on events as a basis for those instances (like groups), some of the same logic applies to specific interests. However, given the time-sensitivity of microblogging, I still think that events are more significant in this context than interests, however defined.

In the PodMtl discussion, I frequently referred to BarCamp-like events (in part because my friend and interlocutor had participated in a number of such events). The same concept applies to any event, including one which is just unfolding (say, assassination of Guinea-Bissau’s president or bombings in Mumbai).

Microblogging users are expected to think about “hashtags,” those textual labels preceded with the ‘#’ symbol which are meant to categorize microblogging updates. But hashtags are problematic on several levels.

  • They require preliminary agreement among multiple microbloggers, a tricky proposition in any social media. “Let’s use #Bissau09. Everybody agrees with that?” It can get ugly and, even if it doesn’t, the process is awkward (especially for new users).
  • Even if agreement has been reached, there might be discrepancies in the way hashtags are typed. “Was it #TwestivalMtl or #TwestivalMontreal, I forgot.”
  • In terms of language economy, it’s unsurprising that the same hashtag would be used for different things. Is “#pcmtl” about Podcamp Montreal, about personal computers in Montreal, about PCM Transcoding Library…?
  • Hashtags are frequently misunderstood by many microbloggers. Just this week, a tweep of mine (a “peep” on Twitter) asked about them after having been on Twitter for months.
  • While there are multiple ways to track hashtags (including through SMS, in some regions), there is no way to further specify the tracked updates (for instance, by user).
  • The distinction between a hashtag and a keyword is too subtle to be really useful. Twitter Search, for instance, lumps the two together.
  • Hashtags take time to type. Even if microbloggers aren’t necessarily typing frantically, the time taken to type all those hashtags seems counterproductive and may even distract microbloggers.
  • Repetitively typing the same string is a very specific kind of task which seems to go against the microblogging ethos, if not the cognitive processes associated with microblogging.
  • The number of character in a hashtag decreases the amount of text in every update. When all you have is 140 characters at a time, the thirteen characters in “#TwestivalMtl” constitute almost 10% of your update.
  • If the same hashtag is used by a large number of people, the visual effect can be that this hashtag is actually dominating the microblogging stream. Since there currently isn’t a way to ignore updates containing a certain hashtag, this effect may even discourage people from using a microblogging service.

There are multiple solutions to these issues, of course. Some of them are surely discussed among developers of microblogging systems. And my notion of event-specific microblogs isn’t geared toward solving these issues. But I do think separate instances make more sense than hashtags, especially in terms of specific events.

My friend’s objections to my event microblogging idea had something to do with visibility. It seems that this friend wants all updates to be visible, regardless of the context. While I don’t disagree with this, I would claim that it would still be useful to “opt out” of certain discussions when people we follow are involved. If I know that Sean is participating in a PHP conference and that most of his updates will be about PHP for a period of time, I would enjoy the possibility to hide PHP-related updates for a specific period of time. The reason I talk about this specific case is simple: a friend of mine has manifested some frustration about the large number of updates made by participants in Podcamp Montreal (myself included). Partly in reaction to this, he stopped following me on Twitter and only resumed following me after Podcamp Montreal had ended. In this case, my friend could have hidden Podcamp Montreal updates and still have received other updates from the same microbloggers.

To a certain extent, event-specific instances are a bit similar to “rooms” in MMORPG and other forms of real-time many-to-many text-based communication such as the nostalgia-inducing Internet Relay Chat. Despite Dave Winer’s strong claim to the contrary (and attempt at defining microblogging away from IRC), a microblogging instance could, in fact, act as a de facto chatroom. When such a structure is needed. Taking advantage of the work done in microblogging over the past year (which seems to have advanced more rapidly than work on chatrooms has, during the past fifteen years). Instead of setting up an IRC channel, a Web-based chatroom, or even a session on MSN Messenger, users could use their microblogging platform of choice and either decide to follow all updates related to a given event or simply not “opt-out” of following those updates (depending on their preferences). Updates related to multiple events are visible simultaneously (which isn’t really the case with IRC or chatrooms) and there could be ways to make event-specific updates more prominent. In fact, there would be easy ways to keep real-time statistics of those updates and get a bird’s eye view of those conversations.

And there’s a point about event-specific microblogging which is likely to both displease “alpha geeks” and convince corporate users: updates about some events could be “protected” in the sense that they would not appear in the public stream in realtime. The simplest case for this could be a company-wide meeting during which backchannel is allowed and even expected “within the walls” of the event. The “nothing should leave this room” attitude seems contradictory to social media in general, but many cases can be made for “confidential microblogging.” Microblogged conversations can easily be archived and these archives could be made public at a later date. Event-specific microblogging allows for some control of the “permeability” of the boundaries surrounding the event. “But why would people use microblogging instead of simply talking to another?,” you ask. Several quick answers: participants aren’t in the same room, vocal communication is mostly single-channel, large groups of people are unlikely to communicate efficiently through oral means only, several things are more efficiently done through writing, written updates are easier to track and archive…

There are many other things I’d like to say about event-based microblogging but this post is already long. There’s one thing I want to explain, which connects back to the social network dimension of microblogging.

Events can be simplistically conceived as social contexts which bring people together. (Yes, duh!) Participants in a given event constitute a “community of experience” regardless of the personal connections between them. They may be strangers, ennemies, relatives, acquaintances, friends, etc. But they all share something. “Participation,” in this case, can be relatively passive and the difference between key participants (say, volunteers and lecturers in a conference) and attendees is relatively moot, at a certain level of analysis. The key, here, is the set of connections between people at the event.

These connections are a very powerful component of social networks. We typically meet people through “events,” albeit informal ones. Some events are explicitly meant to connect people who have something in common. In some circles, “networking” refers to something like this. The temporal dimension of social connections is an important one. By analogy to philosophy of language, the “first meeting” (and the set of “first impressions”) constitute the “baptism” of the personal (or social) connection. In social media especially, the nature of social connections tends to be monovalent enough that this “baptism event” gains special significance.

The online construction of social networks relies on a finite number of dimensions, including personal characteristics described in a profile, indirect connections (FOAF), shared interests, textual content, geographical location, and participation in certain activities. Depending on a variety of personal factors, people may be quite inclusive or rather exclusive, based on those dimensions. “I follow back everyone who lives in Austin” or “Only people I have met in person can belong to my inner circle.” The sophistication with which online personal connections are negotiated, along such dimensions, is a thing of beauty. In view of this sophistication, tools used in social media seem relatively crude and underdeveloped.

Going back to the (un)conference concept, the usefulness of having access to a list of all participants in a given event seems quite obvious. In an open event like BarCamp, it could greatly facilitate the event’s logistics. In a closed event with paid access, it could be linked to registration (despite geek resistance, closed events serve a purpose; one could even imagine events where attendance is free but the microblogging backchannel incurs a cost). In some events, everybody would be visible to everybody else. In others, there could be a sort of ACL for diverse types of participants. In some cases, people could be allowed to “lurk” without being seen while in others radically transparency could be enforced. For public events with all participants visible, lists of participants could be archived and used for several purposes (such as assessing which sessions in a conference are more popular or “tracking” event regulars).

One reason I keep thinking about event-specific microblogging is that I occasionally use microblogging like others use business cards. In a geek crowd, I may ask for someone’s Twitter username in order to establish a connection with that person. Typically, I will start following that person on Twitter and find opportunities to communicate with that person later on. Given the possibility for one-way relationships, it establishes a social connection without requiring personal involvement. In fact, that person may easily ignore me without the danger of a face threat.

If there were event-specific instances from microblogging platforms, we could manage connections and profiles in a more sophisticated way. For instance, someone could use a barebones profile for contacts made during an impersonal event and a full-fledged profile for contacts made during a more “intimate” event. After noticing a friend using an event-specific business card with an event-specific email address, I got to think that this event microblogging idea might serve as a way to fill a social need.


More than most of my other blogposts, I expect comments on this one. Objections are obviously welcomed, especially if they’re made thoughtfully (like my PodMtl friend made them). Suggestions would be especially useful. Or even questions about diverse points that I haven’t addressed (several of which I can already think about).



What do you think of this idea of event-based microblogging? Would you use a microblogging instance linked to an event, say at an unconference? Can you think of fun features an event-based microblogging instance could have? If you think about similar ideas you’ve seen proposed online, care to share some links?


Thanks in advance!

I Am Not a Guru

“Nor do I play one online!”

The “I am not a ” phrase is often used as a disclaimer when one is giving advice. Especially in online contexts having to do with law, in which case the IANAL acronym can be used, and understood.
I’m not writing this to give advice. (Even though I could!) I’ve simply been thinking about social media a fair deal, recently, and thought I’d share a few thoughts.

I’ve been on the record as saying that I have a hard time selling my expertise. It’s not through lack of self-confidence (though I did have problems with this in the past), nor is it that my expertise is difficult to sell. It’s simply a matter of seeing myself as a friendly humanist, not as a brand to sell. To a certain extent, this post is an extension of the same line of thinking.

I’m also going back to my post about “the ‘social’ in ‘social media/marketing/web'” as I tend to position myself as an ethnographer and social scientist (I teach anthropology, sociology, and folkloristics). Simply put, I do participant-observation in social media spheres. Haven’t done formal research on the subject, nor have I taught in that field. But I did gain some insight in terms if what social media entails.

Again, I’m no guru. I’m just a social geek.

The direct prompt for this blogpost is a friend’s message in which he asked me for advice on the use of social media to market his creative work. Not that he framed his question in precisely those terms but the basic idea was there.

As he’s a friend, I answered him candidly, not trying to sell my social media expertise to him. But, after sending that message, I got to think about the fact that I’m not selling my social media expertise to anyone.

One reason is that I’m no salesman. Not only do I perceive myself as “too frank to be a salesman” (more on the assumptions later), but I simply do not have the skills to sell anything. Some people are so good at sales pitches that they could create needs where they is none (the joke about refrigerators and “Eskimos” is too much of an ethnic slur to be appropriate). I’ve been on the record saying that “I couldn’t sell bread for a penny” (to a rich yet starving person).

None of this means that I haven’t had any influence on any purchasing pattern. In fact, that long thread in which I confessed my lack of salesman skills was the impulse (direct or indirect) behind the purchase of a significant number of stovetop coffee devices and this “influence” has been addressed explicitly. It’s just that my influence tends to be more subtle, more “diffuse.” Influence based on participation in diverse groups. It’s one reason I keep talking about the “social butterfly effect.”

Coming back to social media and social marketing.

First, some working definitions. By “social media” I usually mean blogs, podcasts, social networking systems, and microblogs. My usage also involves any participatory use of the Internet and any alternative to “mainstream media” (MSM) which makes use of online contacts between human beings. “Social marketing” is, to me, the use of social media to market and sell a variety of things online, including “people as brands.” This notion connects directly to a specific meaning of “social capital” which, come to think of it, probably has more to do with Putnam than Bourdieu (PDF version of an atricle about both versions).

Other people, I admit, probably have much better ways to define those concepts. But those definitions are appropriate in the present context. I mostly wanted to talk about gurus.

Social Guru

I notice guru-like behaviour in the social media/marketing sphere.

I’m not targetting individuals, though the behaviour is adopted by specific people. Not every one is acting as a “social media guru” or “social marketing guru.” The guru-like behaviour is in fact quite specific and not as common as some would think.

Neither am I saying that guru-like behaviour is inappropriate. I’m not blaming anyone for acting like a guru. I’m mostly distancing myself from that behaviour. Trying to show that it’s one model for behaviour in the social media/marketing sphere.

It should go without saying: I’m not using the term “guru” in a literal sense it might have in South Asia. That kind of guru I might not distance myself from as quickly. Especially if we think about “teachers as personal trainers.” But I’m using “guru” in reference to an Anglo-American phenomenon having to do with expertise and prestige.

Guru-like behaviour, as noticed in the social media/marketing sphere, has to do with “portraying oneself as an expert holding a secret key which can open the doors to instant success.” Self-assurance is involved, of course. But there’s also a degree of mystification. And though this isn’t a rant against people who adopt this kind of behaviour, I must admit that I have negative reactions to any kind of mystification.

There’s a difference between mystery and mystification. Something that is mysterious is difficult to explain “by its very nature.” Mystification involves withholding information to prevent knowledge. As an academic, I have been trained to fight obscurantism of any kind. Mystification seems counterproductive. “Information Wants to be Free.”

This is not to say that I dislike ambiguity, double-entendres, or even secrets. In fact, I’m often using ambiguity in playful manner and, working with a freemasonry-like secret association, I do understand the value of the most restrictive knowledge management practises. But I find limited value in restricting information when knowledge can be beneficial to everyone. As in Eco’s The Name of the Rose, subversive ideas find their way out of attempts to hide them.

Another aspect of guru-like behaviour which tends to bother me is that I can’t help but find it empty. As some would say, “there needs to be a ‘there’ there.” With social media/marketing, the behaviour I’m alluding to seems to imply that there is, in fact, some “secret key to open all doors.” Yet, as I scratch beneath the surface, I find something hollow. (The image I have in mind is that of a chocolate Easter egg. But any kind of trompe-l’œil would work.)

Obviously, I’m not saying that there’s “nothing to” social media/marketing. Those who dismiss social media and/or social marketing sound to me like curmudgeons or naysayers. “There’s nothing new, here. It’s just the same thing as what it always was. Buy my book to read all about what nonsense this all is.” (A bit self-serving, don’t you think?)

And I’m not saying that I know what there is in social media and marketing which is worth using. That would not only be quite presumptuous but it would also represent social media and marketing in a more simplified manner than I feel it deserves.

I’m just saying that caution should be used with people who claim they know everything there is to know about social media and social marketing. In other words, “be careful when someone promises to make you succeed through the Internet.” Sounds obvious, but some people still fall prey to grandiose claims.

Having said this, I’ll keep on posting some of thoughts about social media and social marketing. I might be way off, so “don’t quote me on this.” (You can actually quote me but don’t give my ideas too much credit.)


A topic which I’ll revisit, to be sure. But while I’m at it…
I tend to react rather strongly to a behaviour which I consider the intellectual equivalent of schoolyard bullying.
Notice that I don’t claim to be above this kind of behaviour. I’m not. In fact, one reason for my blogging this is that I have given some thought to my typical anti-bullying reaction. Not that I feel bad about it. But I do wonder if it might not be a good idea to adopt a variety of mechanisms to respond to bullying, in conjunction with my more “gut response” knee-jerk reactions and habits.
Notice also that i’m not describing individual bullies. I’m not complaining about persons. I’m thinking about behaviour. Granted, certain behaviours are typically associated with certain people and bullying is no exception. But instead of blaming, I’d like to assess, at least as a step in a given direction. What can I do? I’m an ethnographer.
Like schoolyardb bullying, intello-bullying is based on a perceived strength used to exploit and/or harm those who perceived as weaker. Like physical strength, the perception of “intellectual strength” on which intello-bullying is based needs not have any objective validity. We’re in subjectivity territory, here. And subjects perceive in patterned but often obscure ways. Those who think of themselves as “strong” in intellectual as well as physical senses, are sometimes the people who are insecure as to their overall strengths and weaknesses.
Unlike schoolyard bullying, intello-bullying can be, and often is, originated by otherwise reasonably mature people. In fact, some of the most agressive intello-bullying comes from well-respected “career intellectuals” who “should know better.” Come to think of it, this type of bullying is probably the one I personally find the most problematic. But, again, I’m not talking about bullies. I’m not describing people. I’m talking about behaviour. And implications if behaviour.
My personal reactions may come from remnants of my impostor syndrome. Or maybe they come from a non-exclusive sense of self-worth that I found lying around in my life, as I was getting my happiness back. As much I try, I can’t help but feel that intello-bullying is a sign of intellectual self-absorption, which eventually link to weakness. Sorry, folks, but it seems to me that if you feel the need, even temporarily, to impose your intellectual strength on those you perceive as intellectually weak, I’ll assume you may “have issues to solve.” in fact, I react the same way when I perceive my own behaviour as tantamount to bullying. It’s the behaviour I have issues with. Not the person.
And this is the basis of my knee-jerks: when I witness bullying, I turn into a bully’s bully. Yeah, pretty dangerous. And quite unexpected for a lifelong pacifist like yours truly. But, at least I can talk and think about it. Unapologetically.
You know, this isn’t something I started doing yesterday. In fact, it may be part of a long-standing mission of mine. Half-implicit at first. Currently “assumed,” assessed, acknowledged. Accepted.
Before you blame me for the appearance of an “avenger complex” in this description, please give some more thought to bullying in general. My hunch is that many of you will admit that you value the existence of anti-bullies in schoolyards or in other contexts. You may prefer it if cases of bullying are solved through other means (sanction by school officials or by parents, creation of safe zones…). But I’d be somewhat surprised if your thoughts about anti-bullying prevention left no room for non-violent but strength-based control by peers. If it is the case, I’d be very interested in your comments on the issue. After all, I may be victim of some idiosyncratic notion of justice which you find inappropriate. I’m always willing to relativize.
Bear in mind that I’m not talking about retaliation. Though it may sound like it, this is no “eye for an eye” rule. Nor is it “present the left cheek.” it’s more like crowd control. Or this form of “non-abusive” technique used by occupational therapists and others while helping patients/clients who are “disorganizing.” Basically, I’m talking about responding to (intello-)bullying with calm but some strength being asserted. In the case of “fighting with words,” in my case, it may sound smug and even a bit dismissive. But it’s a localized smugness which I have a hard time finding unhealthy.
In a sense, I hope I’m talking about “taking the high road.” With a bit of self-centredness which has altruistic goals. “”I’ll act as if I were stronger than you, because you used your perceived strength to dominate somebody else. I don’t have anything against you but I feel you should be put in your place. Don’t make me go to the next step through which I can make you weep.”
At this point, I’m thinking martial arts. I don’t practise any martial art but, as an outsider, I get the impression this thinking goes well with some martial arts. Maybe judo, which allegedly relies on using your opponent’s strength. Or Tae Kwon Do, which always sounded “assertive yet peaceful” when described by practitioners.
The corrolary of all this is my attitude toward those who perceive themselves as weak. I have this strong tendency to want them to feel stronger. Both out of this idiosyncratic atttude toward justice and because of my compulsive empathy. So, when someone says something like “I’m not that smart” or “I don’t have anything to contribute,” I switch to the “nurturing mode” that I may occasionally use in class or with children. I mean not to patronize, though it probably sounds paternalistic to outside observers. It’s just a reaction I have. I don’t even think its consequences are that negative in most contexts.
Academic contexts are full of cases of intello-bullying. Classrooms, conferences, outings… Put a group of academics in a room and unless there’s a strong sense of community (Turner would say “communitas”), intello-bullying is likely to occur. At the very least, you may witness posturing, which I consider a mild form of bullying. It can be as subtle as a tricky question ask to someone who is unlikely to provide a face-saving answer and it can be as aggressive as questioning someone’s inteligence directly or claiming to have gone much beyond what somebody else has said.
In my mind, the most extreme context for this type of bullying is the classroom and it involves a teacher bullying a learner. Bullying between isn’t much better but, as a teacher, I’m even more troubled by the imposong authority structure based on status.

I put “cyber-bullying” as a tag because, in my mind, cyber-bullying (like trolling, flamebaiting and other agressive behaviours online) is a form of intello-bullying. It’s using a perceived “intellectual strength” to dominate. It’s very close to schoolyard bullying but because it may not rely on a display of physical strength, I tend to associate it with mind-based behaviour.
As I think about these issues, I keep thinking of snarky comments. Contrary to physical attacks, snarks necessitate a certain state of mind to be effective. They need to tap on some insecurity, some self-perceived weakness in the victim. But they can be quite dangerous in the right context.
As I write this, I think about my own snarky comments. Typically, they either come after some escalation or they will be as indefinite as possible. But they can be extremely insulting if they’re internalized by some people.
Two come from a fairly known tease/snark. Namely

If you’re so smart, why ain’t you rich?

(With several variants.)

I can provide several satisfactory answers to what is ostensibly a question. But, as much as I try, I can’t relate to the sentiment behind this rhetorical utterance, regardless of immediate context (but regardful of the broader social context). This may have to do with the fact that “getting rich” really isn’t my goal in life. Not only do I agree with the statement that “money can’t buy happiness” and do I care more about happiness than more easily measurable forms of success, but my high empathy levels do include a concept of egalitarianism and solidarity which makes this emphasis on wealth sound counter-productive.

Probably because of my personal reactions to that snark, I have created at least two counter-snarks. My latest one, and the one which may best represent my perspective, is the following:

If you’re so smart, why ain’t you happy?

With direct reference to the original “wealth and intelligence” snark, I wish to bring attention to what I perceive to be a more appropriate goal in life (because it’s my own goal): pursuit of happiness. What I like about this “rhetorical question” is that it’s fairly ambiguous yet has some of the same effects as the “don’t think about pink elephants” illocutionary act. As a rhetorical question, it needs not be face-threatening. Because the “why aren’t you happy?” question can stand on its own, the intelligence premise “dangles.” And, more importantly, it represents one of my responses to what I perceive as a tendency (or attitude and “phase”) associating happiness with lack of intelligence. The whole “ignorance is bliss” and «imbécile heureux» perspective. Voltaire’s Candide and (failed) attempts to discredit Rousseau. Uses of “touchy-feely” and “warm and fuzzy” as insults. In short, the very attitude which makes most effectively tricks out intellectuals in the “pursuit of happiness.”

I posted my own snarky comment on micro-blogs and other social networks. A friend replied rather negatively. Though I can understand my friend’s issues with my snark, I also care rather deeply about delinking intelligence and depression.

A previous snark of mine was much more insulting. In fact, I would never ever use it with any individual, because I abhor insulting others. Especially about their intelligence. But it does sound to me like an efficient way to unpack the original snark. Pretty obvious and rather “nasty”:

If you’re so rich, why ain’t you smart?

Again, I wouldn’t utter this to anyone. I did post it through social media. But, like the abovementioned snark on happiness, it wasn’t aimed at any specific person. Though I find it overly insulting, I do like its “counterstrike” power in witticism wars.

As announced through the “placeholder” tag and in the prefacing statement (or disclaimer), this post is but a draft. I’ll revisit this whole issue on several occasions and it’s probably better that I leave this post alone. Most of it was written while riding the bus from Ottawa to Montreal (through the WordPress editor available on the App Store). Though I’ve added a few things which weren’t in this post when I arrived in Montreal (e.g., a link to NAPPI training), I should probably leave this as a “bus ride post.”

I won’t even proofread this post.


Apologies and Social Media: A Follow-Up on PRI’s WTP

I did it! I did exactly what I’m usually trying to avoid. And I feel rather good about the outcome despite some potentially “ruffled feathers” («égos froissés»?).

While writing a post about PRI’s The World: Technology Podcast (WTP), I threw caution to the wind.

Why Is PRI’s The World Having Social Media Issues? « Disparate.

I rarely do that. In fact, while writing my post, I was getting an awkward feeling. Almost as if I were writing from a character’s perspective. Playing someone I’m not, with a voice which isn’t my own but that I can appropriate temporarily.

The early effects of my lack of caution took a little bit of time to set in and they were rather negative. What’s funny is that I naïvely took the earliest reaction as being rather positive but it was meant to be very negative. That in itself indicates a very beneficial development in my personal life. And I’m grateful to the person who helped me make this realization.

The person in question is Clark Boyd, someone I knew nothing about a few days ago and someone I’m now getting to know through both his own words and those of people who know about his work.

The power of social media.

And social media’s power is the main target of this, here, follow-up of mine.


As I clumsily tried to say in my previous post on WTP, I don’t really have a vested interest in the success or failure of that podcast. I discovered it (as a tech podcast) a few days ago and I do enjoy it. As I (also clumsily) said, I think WTP would rate fairly high on a scale of cultural awareness. To this ethnographer, cultural awareness is too rare a feature in any form of media.

During the latest WTP episode, Boyd discussed what he apparently describes as the mitigated success of his podcast’s embedding in social media and online social networking services. Primarily at stake was the status of the show’s Facebook group which apparently takes too much time to manage and hasn’t increased in membership. But Boyd also made some intriguing comments about other dimensions of the show’s online presence. (If the show were using a Creative Commons license, I’d reproduce these comments here.)

Though it wasn’t that explicit, I interpreted Boyd’s comments to imply that the show’s participants would probably welcome feedback. As giving feedback is an essential part of social media, I thought it appropriate to publish my own raw notes about what I perceived to be the main reasons behind the show’s alleged lack of success in social media spheres.

Let it be noted that, prior to hearing Boyd’s comments, I had no idea what WTP’s status was in terms of social media and social networks. After subscribing to the podcast, the only thing I knew about the show was from the content of those few podcast episodes. Because the show doesn’t go the “meta” route very often (“the show about the show”), my understanding of that podcast was, really, very limited.

My raw notes were set in a tone which is quite unusual for me. In a way, I was “trying it out.” The same tone is used by a lot of friends and acquaintances and, though I have little problem with the individuals who take this tone, I do react a bit negatively when I hear/see it used. For lack of a better term, I’d call it a “scoffing tone.” Not unrelated to the “curmudgeon phase” I described on the same day. But still a bit different. More personalized, in fact. This tone often sounds incredibly dismissive. Yet, when you discuss its target with people who used it, it seems to be “nothing more than a tone.” When people (or cats) use “EPIC FAIL!” as a response to someone’s troubles, they’re not really being mean. They merely use the conventions of a speech community.

Ok, I might be giving these people too much credit. But this tone is so prevalent online that I can’t assume these people have extremely bad intentions. Besides, I can understand the humour in schadenfreude. And I’d hate to use flat-out insults to describe such a large group of people. Even though I do kind of like the self-deprecation made possible by the fact that I adopted the same behaviour.



So, the power of social media… The tone I’m referring to is common in social media, especially in replies, reactions, responses, comments, feedback. Though I react negatively to that tone, I’m getting to understand its power. At the very least, it makes people react. And it seems to be very straightforward (though I think it’s easily misconstrued). And this tone’s power is but one dimension of the power of social media.


Now, going back to the WTP situation.

After posting my raw notes about WTP’s social media issues, I went my merry way. At the back of my mind was this nagging suspicion that my tone would be misconstrued. But instead of taking measures to ensure that my post would have no negative impact (by changing the phrasing or by prefacing it with more tactful comments), I decided to leave it as is.

Is «Rien ne va plus, les jeux sont faits» a corrolary to the RERO mantra?

While I was writing my post, I added all the WTP-related items I could find to my lists: I joined WTP’s apparently-doomed Facebook group, I started following @worldstechpod on Twitter, I added two separate WTP-related blogs to my blogroll… Once I found out what WTP’s online presence was like, I did these few things that any social media fan usually does. “Giving the podcast some love” is the way some social media people might put it.

One interesting effect of my move is that somebody at WTP (probably Clark Boyd) apparently saw my Twitter add and (a few hours after the fact) reciprocated by following me on Twitter. Because I thought feedback about WTP’s social media presence had been requested, I took the opportunity to send a link to my blogpost about WTP with an extra comment about my tone.

To which the @worldstechpod twittername replied with:

@enkerli right, well you took your best shot at me, I’ll give you that. thanks a million. and no, your tone wasn’t “miscontrued” at all.

Call me “naïve” but I interpreted this positively and I even expressed relief.

Turns out, my interpretation was wrong as this is what WTP replied:

@enkerli well, it’s a perfect tone for trashing someone else’s work. thanks.

I may be naïve but I did understand that the last “thanks” was meant as sarcasm. Took me a while but I got it. And I reinterpreted WTP’s previous tweet as sarcastic as well.

Now, if I had read more of WTP’s tweets, I would have understood the “WTP online persona.”  For instance, here’s the tweet announcing the latest WTP episode:

WTP 209 — yet another exercise in utter futility! hurrah! —

Not to mention this puzzling and decontextualized tweet:

and you make me look like an idiot. thanks!

Had I paid attention to the @worldstechpod archive, I would even have been able to predict how my blogpost would be interpreted. Especially given this tweet:

OK. Somebody school me. Why can I get no love for the WTP on Facebook?

Had I noticed that request, I would have realized that my blogpost would most likely be interpreted as an attempt at “schooling” somebody at WTP. I would have also realized that tweets on the WTP account on Twitter were written by a single individual. Knowing myself, despite my attempt at throwing caution to the wind, I probably would have refrained from posting my WTP comments or, at the very least, I would have rephrased the whole thing.

I’m still glad I didn’t.

Yes, I (unwittingly) “touched a nerve.” Yes, I apparently angered someone I’ve never met (and there’s literally nothing I hate more than angering someone). But I still think the whole situation is leading to something beneficial.

Here’s why…

After that sarcastic tweet about my blogpost, Clark Boyd (because it’s now clear he’s the one tweeting @worldstechpod) sent the following request through Twitter:

rebuttal, anyone? i can’t do it without getting fired. —

The first effect of this request was soon felt right here on my blog. That reaction was, IMHO, based on a misinterpretation of my words. In terms of social media, this kind of reaction is “fair game.” Or, to use a social media phrase: “it’s alll good.”

I hadn’t noticed Boyd’s request for rebuttal. I was assuming that there was a connection between somebody at the show and the fact that this first comment appeared on my blog, but I thought it was less direct than this. Now, it’s possible that there wasn’t any connection between that first “rebuttal” and Clark Boyd’s request through Twitter. But the simplest explanation seems to me to be that the blog comment was a direct result of Clark Boyd’s tweet.

After that initial blog rebuttal, I received two other blog comments which I consider more thoughtful and useful than the earliest one (thanks to the time delay?). The second comment on my post was from a podcaster (Brad P. from N.J.), but it was flagged for moderation because of the links it contained. It’s a bit unfortunate that I didn’t see this comment on time because it probably would have made me understand the situation a lot more quickly.

In his comment, Brad P. gives some context for Clark Boyd’s podcast. What I thought was the work of a small but efficient team of producers and journalists hired by a major media corporation to collaborate with a wider public (à la Search Engine Season I) now sounds more like the labour of love from an individual journalist with limited support from a cerberus-like major media institution. I may still be off, but my original impression was “wronger” than this second one.

The other blog comment, from Dutch blogger and Twitter @Niels, was chronologically the one which first made me realize what was wrong with my post. Niels’s comment is a very effective mix of thoughtful support for some of my points and thoughtful criticism of my post’s tone. Nice job! It actually worked in showing me the error of my ways.

All this to say that I apologise to Mr. Clark Boyd for the harshness of my comments about his show? Not really. I already apologised publicly. And I’ve praised Boyd for both his use of Facebook and of Twitter.

What is it, then?

Well, this post is a way for me to reflect on the power of social media. Boyd talked about social media and online social networks. I’ve used social media (my main blog) to comment on the presence of Boyd’s show in social media and social networking services. Boyd then used social media (Twitter) to not only respond to me but to launch a “rebuttal campaign” about my post. He also made changes to his show’s online presence on a social network (Facebook) and used social media (Twitter) to advertise this change. And I’ve been using social media (Twitter and this blog) to reflect on social media (the “meta” aspect is quite common), find out more about a tricky situation (Twitter), and “spread the word” about PRI’s The World: Technology Podcast (Facebook, blogroll, Twitter).

Sure, I got some egg on my face, some feathers have been ruffled, and Clark Boyd might consider me a jerk.

But, perhaps unfortunately, this is often the way social media works.


Heartfelt thanks to Clark Boyd for his help.

Éloge de la courtoisie en-ligne

Nous y voilà!

Après avoir terminé mon billet sur le contact social, j’ai reçu quelques commentaires et eu d’autres occasions de réfléchir à la question. Ce billet faisait suite à une interaction spécifique que j’ai vécue hier mais aussi à divers autres événements. En écrivant ce billet sur le contact social, j’ai eu l’idée (peut-être saugrenue) d’écrire une liste de «conseils d’ami» pour les gens qui désirent me contacter. Contrairement à mon attitude habituelle, j’ai rédigé cette liste dans un mode assez impératif et télégraphique. C’est peut-être contraire à mon habitude, mais c’est un exercice intéressant à faire, dans mon cas.

Bien qu’énoncés sur un ton quasi-sentencieux, ces conseils se veulent être des idées de base avec lesquelles je travaille quand on me sollicite (ce qui arrive plusieurs fois par jour). C’est un peu ma façon de dire: je suis très facile à contacter mais voici ce que je considère comme étant des bonnes et mauvaises idées dans une procédure de contact. Ça vaut pour mes lecteurs ici, pour mes étudiants (avant que je aie rencontrés), pour des contacts indirects, etc.

Pour ce qui est du «contact social», je parlais d’un contexte plus spécifique que ce que j’ai laissé entendre. Un des problèmes, c’est que même si j’ai de la facilité à décrire ce contexte, j’ai de la difficulté à le nommer d’une façon qui soit sans équivoque. C’est un des mondes auxquels je participe et il est lié à l’«écosystème geek». En parlant de «célébrité» dans le billet sur le contact social, je faisais référence à une situation assez précise qui est celle de la vie publique de certaines des personnes qui passent le plus clair de leur temps en-ligne. Les limites sont pas très claires mais c’est un groupe de quelques millions de personnes, dont plusieurs Anglophones des États-Unis, qui entrent dans une des logiques spécifiques de la socialisation en-ligne. Des gens qui vivent et qui oeuvrent dans le média social, le marketing social, le réseau social, la vie sociale médiée par les communications en-ligne, etc.

Des «socialiseurs alpha», si on veut.

C’est pas un groupe homogène, loi de là. Mais c’est un groupe qui a ses codes, comme tout groupe social. Certains individus enfreignent les règles et ils sont ostracisés, parfois sans le savoir.

Ce qui me permet de parler de courtoisie.

Un des trucs dont on parle beaucoup dans nos cours d’introduction, en anthropologie culturelle, c’est la diversité des normes de politesse à l’échelle humaine. Pas parce que c’est une partie essentielle de nos recherches, mais c’est souvent une façon assez efficace de faire comprendre des concepts de base à des gens qui n’ont pas (encore) de formation ethnographique ou de regard anthropologique. C’est encore plus efficace dans le cas d’étudiants qui ont déjà été formés dans une autre discipline et qui ont parfois tendance à ramener les concepts à leur expérience personnelle (ce qui, soit dit en passant, est souvent une bonne stratégie d’apprentissage quand elle est bien appliquée). L’idée de base, c’est qu’il n’y a pas d’«universal», de la politesse (malgré ce que disent Brown et Levinson). Il n’y a pas de règle universelle de politesse qui vaut pour l’ensemble de la population humaine, peu importe la distance temporelle ou culturelle. Chaque contexte culturel est bourré de règles de politesse, très souvent tacites, mais elles ne sont pas identiques d’un contexte à l’autre. Qui plus est, la même règle, énoncée de la même façon, a souvent des applications et des implications très différentes d’un contexte à l’autre. Donc, en contexte, il faut savoir se plier.

En classe, il y en a toujours pour essayer de trouver des exceptions à cette idée de base. Mais ça devient un petit jeu semi-compétitif plutôt qu’un réel processus de compréhension. D’après moi, ç’a un lien avec ce que les pédagogues anglophones appellent “Ways of Knowing”. Ce sont des gens qui croient encore qu’il n’existe qu’une vérité que le prof est en charge de dévoiler. Avec eux, il y a plusieurs étapes à franchir mais ils finissent parfois par passer à une compréhension plus souple de la réalité.

Donc, une fois qu’on peut travailler avec cette idée de base sur la non-universalité de règles de politesse spécifiques, on peut travailler avec des contextes dans lesquelles la politesse fonctionne. Et elle l’est fonctionnelle!

Mes «conseils d’ami» et mon «petit guide sur le contact social en-ligne» étaient à inscrire dans une telle optique. Mon erreur est de n’avoir pas assez décrit le contexte en question.

Si on pense à la notion de «blogosphère», on a déjà une idée du contexte. Pas des blogueurs isolés. Une sphère sociale qui est concentrée autour du blogue. Ces jours-ci, à part le blogue, il y a d’autres plates-formes à travers lesquelles les gens dont je parle entretiennent des rapports sociaux plus ou moins approfondis. Le micro-blogue comme et Twitter, par exemple. Mais aussi des réseaux sociaux comme Facebook ou même un service de signets sociaux comme Digg. C’est un «petit monde», mais c’est un groupe assez influent, puisqu’il lie entre eux beaucoup d’acteurs importants d’Internet. C’est un réseau tentaculaire, qui a sa présence dans divers milieux. C’est aussi, et c’est là que mes propos peuvent sembler particulièrement étranges, le «noyau d’Internet», en ce sens que ce sont des membres de ce groupe qui ont un certain contrôle sur plusieurs des choses qui se passent en-ligne. Pour utiliser une analogie qui date de l’ère nationale-industrielle (le siècle dernier), c’est un peu comme la «capitale» d’Internet. Ou, pour une analogie encore plus vieillotte, c’est la «Métropole» de l’Internet conçu comme Empire.

Donc, pour revenir à la courtoisie…

La spécificité culturelle du groupe dont je parle a créé des tas de trucs au cours des années, y compris ce qu’ils ont appelé la «Netiquette» (de «-net» pour «Internet» et «étiquette»). Ce qui peut contribuer à rendre mes propos difficiles à saisir pour ceux qui suivent une autre logique que la mienne, c’est que tout en citant (et apportant du support à) certaines composantes de cette étiquette, je la remets en contexte. Personnellement, je considère cette étiquette très valable dans le contexte qui nous préoccupe et j’affirme mon appartenance à un groupe socio-culturel précis qui fait partie de l’ensemble plus vaste auquel je fais référence. Mais je conserve mon approche ethnographique.

La Netiquette est si bien «internalisée» par certains qu’elles semblent provenir du sens commun (le «gros bon sens» dont je parlais hier). C’est d’ailleurs, d’après moi, ce qui explique certaines réactions très vives au bris d’étiquette: «comment peux-tu contrevenir à une règle aussi simple que celle de donner un titre clair à ton message?» (avec variantes plus insultantes). Comme j’ai tenté de l’expliquer en contexte semi-académique, une des bases du conflit en-ligne (la “flame war”), c’est la difficulté de se ressaisir après un bris de communication. Le bris de communication, on le tient pour acquis, il se produit de toutes façons. Mais c’est la façon de réétablir la communication qui change tout.

De la même façon, c’est pas tant le bris d’étiquette qui pose problème. Du moins, pas l’occasion spécifique de manquement à une règle précise. C’est la dynamique qui s’installe suite à de nombreux manquements aux «règles de base» de la vie sociale d’un groupe précis. L’effet immédiat, c’est le découpage du ‘Net en plus petites factions.

Et, personnellement, je trouve dommage ce fractionnement, cette balkanisation.

Qui plus est, c’est dans ce contexte que, malgré mon relativisme bien relatif, j’assigne le terme «éthique» à mon hédonisme. Pas une éthique absolue et rigide. Mais une orientation vers la bonne entente sociale.

Qu’on me comprenne bien (ça serait génial!), je me plains pas du comportement des gens, je ne jugent pas ceux qui se «comportent mal» ou qui enfreignent les règles de ce monde dans lequel je vis. Mais je trouve utile de parler de cette dynamique. Thérapeutique, même.

La raison spécifique qui m’a poussé à écrire ce billet, c’est que deux des commentaires que j’ai reçu suite à mes billets d’hier ont fait appel (probablement sans le vouloir) au «je fais comme ça me plaît et ça dérange personne». Là où je me sens presqu’obligé de dire quelque-chose, c’est que le «ça dérange personne» me semblerait plutôt myope dans un contexte où les gens ont divers liens entre eux. Désolé si ça choque, mais je me fais le devoir d’être honnête.

D’ailleurs, je crois que c’est la logique du «troll», ce personnage du ‘Net qui prend un «malin plaisir» à bousculer les gens sur les forums et les blogues. C’est aussi la logique du type macho qui se plaît à dire: «Je pince les fesses des filles. Dix-neuf fois sur 20, je reçois une baffe. Mais la vingtième, c’est la bonne». Personnellement, outre le fait que je sois féministe, j’ai pas tant de problèmes que ça avec cette idée quand il s’agit d’un contexte qui le permet (comme la France des années 1990, où j’ai souvent entendu ce genre de truc). Mais là où ça joue pas, d’après moi, c’est quand cette attitude est celle d’un individu qui se meut dans un contexte où ce genre de chose est très mal considéré (par exemple, le milieu cosmopolite contemporain en Amérique du Nord). Au niveau individuel, c’est peut-être pas si bête. Mais au niveau social, ça fait pas preuve d’un sens éthique très approfondi.

Pour revenir au «troll». Ce personnage quasi-mythique génère une ambiance très tendue, en-ligne. Individuellement, il peut facilement considérer qu’il est «dans son droit» et que ses actions n’ont que peu de conséquences négatives. Mais, ce qui se remarque facilement, c’est que ce même individu tolère mal le comportement des autres. Il se débat «comme un diable dans le bénitier», mais c’est souvent lui qui «sème le vent» et «récolte la tempête». Un forum sans «troll», c’est un milieu très agréable, “nurturing”. Mais il n’est besoin que d’un «troll» pour démolir l’atmosphère de bonne entente. Surtout si les autres membres du groupes réagissent trop fortement.

D’ailleurs, ça me fait penser à ceux qui envoient du pourriel et autres Plaies d’Internet. Ils ont exactement la logique du pinceur de femmes, mais menée à l’extrême. Si aussi peu que 0.01% des gens acceptent le message indésirable, ils pourront en tirer un certain profit à peu d’effort, peu importe ce qui affecte 99.99% des récipiendaires. Tant qu’il y aura des gens pour croire à leurs balivernes ou pour ouvrir des fichiers attachés provenant d’inconnus, ils auront peut-être raison à un niveau assez primaire («j’ai obtenu ce que je voulais sans me forcer»). Mais c’est la société au complet qui en souffre. Surtout quand on parle d’une société aussi diversifiée et complexe que celle qui vit en-ligne.

C’est intéressant de penser au fait que la culture en-ligne anglophone accorde une certaine place à la notion de «karma». Depuis une expression désignant une forme particulière de causalité à composante spirituelle, cette notion a pris, dans la culture geek, un acception spécifique liée au mérite relatif des propos tenus en-ligne, surtout sur le vénérable site Slashdot. Malgré le glissement de sens de causalité «mystique» à évaluation par les pairs, on peut lier les deux concepts dans une idée du comportement optimal pour la communication en-ligne: la courtoisie.

Les Anglophones ont tendance à se fier, sans les nommer ou même les connaître, aux maximes de Grice. J’ai beau percevoir qu’elles ne sont pas universelles, j’y vois un intérêt particulier dans le contexte autour duquel je tourne. L’idée de base, comme le diraient Wilson et Sperber, est que «tout acte de communication ostensive communique la présomption de sa propre pertinence optimale». Cette pertinence optimale est liée à un processus à la fois cognitif et communicatif qui fait appel à plusieurs des notions élaborées par Grice et par d’autres philosophes du langage. Dans le contexte qui m’intéresse, il y a une espèce de jeu entre deux orientations qui font appel à la même notion de pertinence: l’orientation individuelle («je m’exprime») souvent légaliste-réductive («j’ai bien le droit de m’exprimer») et l’orientation sociale («nous dialoguons») souvent éthique-idéaliste («le fait de dialoguer va sauver le monde»).

Aucun mystère sur mon orientation préférée…

Par contre, faut pas se leurrer: le fait d’être courtois, en-ligne, a aussi des effets positifs au niveau purement individuel. En étant courtois, on se permet très souvent d’obtenir de réels bénéfices, qui sont parfois financiers (c’est comme ça qu’on m’a payé un iPod touch). Je parle pas d’une causalité «cosmique» mais bien d’un processus précis par lequel la bonne entente génère directement une bonne ambiance.

Bon, évidemment, je semble postuler ma propre capacité à être courtois. Il m’arrive en fait très souvent de me faire désigner comme étant très (voire trop) courtois. C’est peut-être réaliste, comme description, même si certains ne sont peut-être pas d’accord.

À vous de décider.