War and Peace - Online Community

Posted on Friday, January 09 by Jill

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I’ve been grappling of late with the concept of online community. It seems on the surface like it should be a good thing. I love the internet and community is a fine concept. Put them together and it should be excellent. Yes? No?

I can tell you some horror stories. Like what happened to Kathy Sierra author of the blog Creating Passionate Users. Here are some of her own words about what happened:

For the last four weeks, I've been getting death threat comments on this blog. But that's not what pushed me over the edge. What finally did it was some disturbing threats of violence and sex posted on two other blogs... blogs authored and/or owned by a group that includes prominent bloggers.

An online community of bloggers attacked her. Sierra, who’s blog was positive and beautiful, stopped blogging. I’m sure the impact on her non-virtual life has been enormous and long lasting.

Less dramatic, but similar in many ways is the recent Twittack on CBC producer Ira Basen. Basan was actually virtually slagged by some Twitterers while he was onstage giving a speech. An online community – of which he wasn’t a part – ganged up on him. There was a meanness to the attack. Maybe they didn’t like his ideas, but the words don’t feel like an intellectual challenge. They seem hostile.

Online communities can get vicious. And when two communities get mad at the same time, there can be a blog battle, like the one that took place after I presented Story2.OH at Case Camp last year, with the Jets/PR-types on one side and the artist/screenwriting Sharks on the other. To appreciate the scope of the virtual war, you have to scroll down on both links are read the comments, along with those below my original post on getting deleted by Facebook. It was the virtual version of a territorial war – no knives, but some colourful use of language. It certainly left lasting scars.

Speaking of wars, remember Color Wars, ze frank’s inventive collection of online community games for the Twitter community? Twitter bingo, online Rock, Paper, Scissors, Rap Battle Remix. I don’t think anyone argued with the judges or stamped their foot about losing. That was big time virtual fun. And what a great sense of community it developed. There wasn’t any bitterness between say Team Puce and the Off White Team. Color War built a sense of camaraderie.

The web has certainly created a sense of community for Canadian screenwriters. We began gathering virtually around Dead Things on Sticks, Ink Canada and Facebook, then expanded to add more blogs and Twitter to our realm as well as our non-virtual events. In my experience this is a warm, supportive, friendly, funny community that knows how to hoist a pint. This is an example of online community excellence.

But check out what smart Ivor Tossol has to say about Facebook. He says we’re all fakety-fake-fake when we’re online and there’s no room for depression in a status update.

Every status update, every comment, every little fart of consciousness that gets posted to that site sounds more or less like every other one: an attempt to look smart, sound detached, act aloof, as if life really were an endless series of caustic remarks and mild annoyances.

It's like being trapped in a nightmarish Oscar Wilde theme park, where everything is surface and snark and everybody has an animatronic smile fixed on their face. It's not what's said on Facebook that amazes me. It's what's left unsaid: Nobody is vulnerable or depressed. Nobody is on anti-depressants.

There’s extreme truth in what he’s saying.

When I interviewed Damian Kindler, creator of Sanctuary, which started out online and then became a tv series, he had plenty to say about community. A strong community had formed around Sanctuary when it launched on the web. And Damian came to hate them. He had hoped to harness their enthusiasm and turn them into ambassadors for the series. Instead they succumbed to petty in fighting and were a massive drain on his time and energy to the point that he had to close down most of his own online presence to get his life back. Online communities can be a pain in the fucking ass.

Yesterday on Twitter were all the people who noticed and tweeted #peace. We didn’t make a difference, didn’t bring any wars to an end or save lives and we probably didn’t even draw the attention of any politicians. But collectively, we called for peace. Can thinking about it, hoping for it, voicing our desire for it be wrong? Of course not. Online community can have a collective conscience; we can dream together.

Online communities take many forms, kind of like offline communities. We humans are a varied and interesting bunch. We never cease to amaze me. Individuals want different things from the web and use it differently. Sometimes we hook up with a bunch of like-minded types and our grouping takes on a personality of its own.

In some ways, being on the web is like being back in high school. There are the emo kids and the goths, jocks and preppies, the hipsters and the nerds and many many more. There are definitely some mean kids out there. Beware of them. Despite the fact that their sticks and stones are only words, they can definitely hurt you.

But there are lots of other kids in the playground. Smart ones, fun ones, the ones who know all the best toys.

Recently I had a Twitter exchange with Karen Walton that turned into a blog post about what Twitter can do for writers. I had been floundering around in the dark trying to make sense of my obsession and Karen’s thoughts on the subject had been sort of an epiphany for me. But when I blogged about it, the comment gave me even great insight.

One of the comments I loved most was from MJ Reid, a member of my virtual posse – we met on Facebook and are Twee-pals as well, but have yet to meet in person:

Members of primate groups (bands? communities?) make efforts to connect with the other members of their groups, even just with a touch or a couple of seconds of togetherness in a task. This (apparently) fosters common purpose and belonging. The same happens with human groups, and always has. Getting together at meal-time; religious and / or social events; marriages, births, funerals; sport and games; art and music - all examples of social community building.

The big difference with Twitter and the like is it allows community building to be intentional and non-local. You’re not constrained by physical proximity. You can add and remove members of your intentional community at will. You can connect faster, wider, and more powerfully than ever before. Heady stuff.

That’s one of the things I love most about my online communities, how they’ll apply their minds to the problems that challenge me. Collectively, I have confidence we’ll figure it all out.

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  1. By Robbo January 09, 2009 @ 10:45 PM
    That was an incredibly thoughtful post, Jill. Thanks for that. I've been in and out of wars, battles, skirmishes, school yard brawls and drunken shouting matches - and, yes, I am speaking of my online life - all of which create the same visceral hurts and damages as any "real life" confrontation would have. In some ways the anonymity of the web allows us to hide behind funny names like masks on Halloween and in behaving with these reduced social constraints we tend to reveal more about ourselves - not in proclaimed "status updates" but in our behaviour. It doesn't take long on Twitter to figure out who's bogus, who's lame and who is actually worth spending time with. The attacks by strangers - or communities, groups or gangs of strangers - is a different story. When we place ourselves out "there" in the trackless void of the net we stand exposed before the world. Some of us, as professional performers or writers, are more used to that than others might be - but it makes us no less vulnerable to any unanticipated assault on our personae. As in the real world, there will always be assholes who delight in destroying rather than creating. There will always be sociopaths who are incapable of grasping how anyone other than themselves feel. And there are fucktards. Despite pervasiveness of bullying, insults and threats I don't see it as being worse than hat we find in our day to day lives. The difference is in the real world our reach to a wider community is usually limited to our physical reach - we design our communities and families based upon our real world experiences - oft times hard won through those early socializing years whilst learning to abide by the laws of the jungle gym. But I am heartened by how *little* of it I see online - when the opportunity for cruelty is perhaps more vast than on the streets, in our homes and at our places of work. You mentioned Ze Frank and his community building activities on Twitter. His earlier effort, The Show, drew together a varied and dedicated group of people bound up in their mutual affection and respect for Frank and his work. The forum for the Show would, on occasion, have some knob come in and try to slap their dick around and piss everyone off. The response was enlightening. Frank was very good at being a fair and thoughtful moderator but what really struck me was how the community always banded together in defense of Frank and each other. I've seen this happen in other forums, chat rooms, web casts and more - where the community rises to meet the needs of each other and, without acting in a mob justice fashion, manage to calmly insist upon and maintain the level of discourse and respect they have all mutually agreed to. No stated rules, no charters, no police and often with the worst punishment being simple banishment - just being ignored. It's always gratifying to see how quickly the bullies fade away when they are so pointedly ignored and given no power over others. But it ain't easy. If it were easy we'd all be living in a far better real world right now. The optimist in me likes to see these online quarrels and attacks as a necessary exercise in actively figuring out just what kind of monkeys we can become. MJReid had it right: when you sit with someone just to chat, have a drink, share a meal and share your lives - you become friends, you become family - and those bonds are worth creating, reinforcing and never backing away from. I'm looking forward to hearing what others have to contribute to this conversation. It's a big world and a small village all at the same time - and we all have to learn to live in it. Cheers.
  2. By Diane January 09, 2009 @ 11:55 PM
    Great post. I don’t know what to think about Ivor Tossel’s article because I’ve had almost the opposite experience, and yet I don’t exactly disagree with his conclusions. Maybe I have particularly grandpa-ish friends, but I find I’m inundated with online updates telling me that people are tired/sick/frustrated/etc., and often-cryptic cries for attention, and people do respond rather than shun, as opposed to what Tossel seems to think. And yet some of that seems like careful posing, too, an attempt to get people to react to them. It seems like we’re all trying to be heard, to feel a little less invisible, to only connect, and it’s maybe easier by going negative, whether it’s “feel sorry for me, dammit” or tearing something down. I know what he’s saying about the ironic attitudes, but I have fun with the people who try to entertain with their updates and comments, and I try to do the same, because I can’t imagine anyone cares what I had for lunch or if I’m tired. But I think personality often shines through. Plus, I guess more importantly, I don’t want to live my entire life online. I want to preserve a one on one relationship with my closest friends that’s distinct from what I’d tell a casual acquaintance via Facebook, or a stranger via Twitter. I don’t think it’s necessarily a good thing that I found out via Facebook that my cousin was getting married or my friend’s dad died. It’s distancing to be part of a group message about something so profoundly life changing from people close to me, and what’s the response? Write congratulations/condolences for all to see, in keeping with the way the info was delivered? It seems wrong. And yet it is definitely a good thing that I feel more connected with people I otherwise wouldn’t hear from as often, and a way of building relationships and feeling closer in offline interactions. My online experiences have been extremely positive, no question, even when I’ve retreated from the aspects of it that make me crazy. For example, there are many reasons I stopped doing House reviews, but one was the constant interaction with the crazy contingent of the online fans. I can’t even imagine being someone like Damien Kindler, trying to harness the power of the online community. I’ve seen blogs and discussion groups I loved, that had great discussions, devolve into infighting and inanity. And yet I’ve met some great people, in reality and virtually, from my online participation. I think like most life experiences, we get out of our online experiences what we put in to them. If we’re negative or combative or whatever, that’s going to affect how others respond to us. If we continue to participate in a community that’s turned ugly, that’s a reflection on us. We can’t control anyone else’s behaviour, never mind an entire community’s, so we keep sending out our comments and status updates, like little beacons calling for like-minded souls to gather, and if it’s using our authentic voice, I think that resulting community will always be a largely positive experience. Sorry, long rambling comment. But I guess I’m authentically rambly.
  3. By MJReid January 10, 2009 @ 02:01 AM
    :chuffed: Thanks for the props! Beware, lengthy pseudo-scholarly comments to follow. Ivor Tossol makes a minor logical error in projecting his FB experience into a general maxim, but I can forgive that. The larger problem with Tossol's article is that it misses an important aspect of human interaction: we're almost ALWAYS 'fake'. By virtue of our individual existences, we're not able to directly experience another's thoughts or emotions. All our interactions have to be mediated somehow, be it written, verbal, or body language. When you see a friend on the street, and that friend has just (for instance) lost a beloved pet, do they immediately collapse on your shoulder in tears? Well they might, I don't know about your friends, but I doubt it. We all wear a mask in every-day life, and filter / structure our utterances based on the audience and situation we are in at any given time. Does this make us fake-fakey-fake? No. It makes us human. With our closest intimates we can usually speak and act more authentically and deeply from the heart, but the translating medium is still there. Online anonymity affords the opportunity to try on other masks and filters with minimal risk. For some, that unfortunately leads to John Gabriel's Greater Internet F*ckwad Theory: http://is.gd/8vD. For others, it allows the real them to shine through, and unfortunately the real them is petty, vindictive, nasty, brutish, and (possibly) short. This isn't always the case! I think the community that has grown around the people, blogs, and apps you mention is vibrant, supportive, heterogeneous, and deeply authentic. It's an example of the good side of online communities, as I alluded to in my comments you commented on. (Which I am now commenting on. Ouroboros much?) Everything has good and bad sides. Both Mozart and Hitler were born in Austria. Does that make Austria good, or bad? Neither: Austria merely is. Nuclear theory gave us the atomic bomb, and nuclear medicine. The internet is the same. By acting from the best part of ourselves, we make the lives of those we touch better, and hopefully allow them the same freedom. It's not easy, but it's important, rewarding, and often a bucketload of fun.
  4. By Heather Yaxley January 11, 2009 @ 11:20 AM
    There is also the immediacy of online that causes these issues - in the real world, you are able to take time and use space to reflect normally before communicating. And, like online, when you don't (eg in an argument), you may say things you regret. But online, those thoughts are recorded - in words that often read much more harshly than the person would ever say them, particularly to a stranger as most of us are online. Online communities are probably much like those we've always formed in their main aspects, but their reach, anonymity, immediacy etc bring negatives as well as positives. I suppose a sense of proportion is what is most needed, but if you are at all vulnerable, cyberbulling can be devastating. I also worry about the impersonalisation aspects invading closer relationships - where people think it is okay to dump a partner via Facebook, for example. These are communications tools, but should never replace the benefits of talking with people, particularly in person.
  5. By Jill January 11, 2009 @ 03:21 PM
    Thank you for these comments. They are each incredibly insightful. I find I am in a cyberworld of sharp dichotomies. Here I have met the best and worst of people. The experience is simultaneously intimate and anonymous. We are free to create our fakest/idealized selves and at the same time pursue our truest voices. It is a village and the entire globe. But one thing is sure, this is never boring.
  6. By lethe January 16, 2009 @ 05:40 PM
    Really enjoyed this post, especially the quote about the "Oscar Wilde theme park". The online world is an instantaneous conversation, more static and claptrap than clear signals, but the vast epidemic of networking is fascinating in itself. Let me give you an example. One year ago I began blogging my novel, that is, I began using wordpress as my publishing platform. I started to look around and I found that others were doing this too and it seemed like they were beginning to do this right around the time I was. I found a site called novelr.com where people were gathering to talk about online publishing and then a review site, called Web Fiction Guide, where editors were writing reviews of online novels. Gradually I developed a relationship to this niche culture. Just recently I wrote a review for an online novelist in Chicago and had he pleasure to meet him in person shortly after. What I'm saying is, yeah it's a lot of static, sure most conversation is knee-jerk banality, but there's an underlying theme to this digital revolution--connectivity. We are reaching a point where isolation is impossible, where connection is a matter of fact.
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