2014: Making Connections

0015_001Although I'm not pretending to have any real understanding of social interactions in general — in fact, as I often mention, I go through life feeling like I really do't know what to do in a lot of "everyday" social situations — I find the way little communities and cliques develop to be fascinating, both to observe from the outside, and to be a part of from within.

I have a few examples in mind. First, and most prominent, is Twitter. I've drifted from group to group a bit since I originally joined Twitter a number of years back. Originally, my use of Twitter was primarily to have a means of talking to my online friends with whom I used to interact on 1up.com. After "The Great Exodus", when 1up's specialised forums were mashed together into a NeoGAF-style monstrosity of just "Games" and "Not Games", a significant proportion of the community left the site's forums, and many of them found themselves on Twitter. Over time, people changed, moved and became involved in different things. Some gave up on Twitter altogether; others started using it for professional purposes; others still "rebranded" themselves.

I fell somewhat into the latter category. After suffering a fairly serious instance of doxxing and harassment back in 2013 — see, it's not just women it happens to, contrary to what the media would have you believe — I left Twitter, initially intending not to return, but after realising what a pile of crap Facebook is for actually interacting with people in a meaningful manner, I returned. After realising that the interminable social justice yelling on Twitter was setting off my depression and anxiety, I left again. This time when I came back (they always come back) I decided to "reinvent" myself a bit, and follow fewer of the people I felt I "should" be following, and instead focused on people who posted things I found interesting or enjoyable to interact with. Consequently, these days I find myself on the fringes of "anitwitter", a subculture on the social network that discusses, posts screencaps and generally enthuses about anime and games. I, as you might expect, fit right in.

Elsewhere on the Internet, the Discord server I mentioned the other day (which, dear reader, you're still welcome to come and join) has been developing slowly but surely, but it's our Final Fantasy XIV Free Company server that is perhaps the more interesting example. Taking cues from the in-game friend who introduced me to Discord in the first place, I added an "NSFW" (Not Safe for Work) channel to the server. It immediately became the most active channel in the place, though initially people weren't quite sure what to post in there, i.e. whether or not it was okay to post filth. (It was, though someone stumbled accidentally into it and complained a bit at being confronted with a wall of hentai, so we've since made it invite-only — community management at work!)

What's interesting about the NSFW channel is that the usual boundaries of "politeness" that are up when interacting with other people online in real time — in my experience, anyway; I tend not to hang around with the sort of people who hurl insults and abuse at one another — are nowhere to be seen. I don't mean that people are rude to one another; quite the opposite, in fact. The NSFW channel is a place where everyone can be open and honest about the things that they like, and where no-one judges one another for the things they talk about and post. (Or, if they do, they keep that to themselves.) It's pretty refreshing and liberating, actually, and makes it abundantly clear that there should probably be more places for people — particularly, it has to be said, men — to be able to talk about things like sex, fetishes and all that sort of thing without fear of judgement or anything like that. I shan't go into any further details than that, but suffice to say we're all having a jolly old time in there.

Anyway, yeah. Online communities. Just as interesting as real communities, I think you'll agree…

2011: Let's Talk!

0012_001A little while ago, I wrote about chat app Discord and how I thought it was a jolly fine piece of software that had all but replaced Skype and various other solutions for, among other things, in-game voice chat.

Besides high-quality voice chat, Discord is also pretty great for creating text chat servers with custom channels (each of which can have their own permissions set if you so desire) and various other bits and pieces here and there. The app is clearly largely designed with the Final Fantasy XIV community in mind, given its built-in commands to search sites like XIVDB and Gamerescape, but it's also a flexible, lightweight, easy-to-use and cross-platform chat app that is super-easy to get signed up for and really easy to use.

So I'd like to invite you along to come and chat! I created a server named after my other website MoeGamer, along with a bunch of channels. The server is primarily intended for people to talk about Japanese video games, anime, manga and the like, but there are a selection of other channels for people to talk about what they might be interested in. I've had a few people sign up over the course of the day, but not really much participation as yet; understandable, really, since no-one wants to be the first person to say something!

A request, then, dear reader. If you'd like to have a chat with me and hopefully some other like-minded individuals, please do two things for me.

Firstly, join the server here. (You can use Discord via the Web, but I recommend downloading the standalone app for the best and most flexible experience.)

Secondly, participate! Jump into a channel you like the sound of — the invite link I've provided will take you to a "welcome" channel that gives you a summary of what all the other channels are all about — and start talking. Even if no-one seems to be saying much to begin with, people who join the server and channels will see the conversation history when they come along for the first time, so if there are some comments, thoughts and even pictures for people to respond to when they sign up, new members will be more inclined to start participating themselves.

I'd love to build this server into a nice little community where we can chat, share stories, share pics and share our thoughts on all things anime, gaming, manga and whatnot. Discord is a great means of doing just that, and I'd love to see more people making use of it and supporting the great work the developers are doing — it's currently only in alpha, and is already a really well put together piece of software. And who knows? You might even make a few new friends or discover a few new interests in the process.

See you there!

1994: The Beginner's Guide to Twitter

Longtime supporter of this blog and regular commenter Jud joined Twitter recently, and seems to be at a bit of a loss as to what to do with it. I remember feeling much the same way when I first joined the site; it was quite some time before I got a feel for what it was all about and how it worked. So with that in mind, today's entry is dedicated to Jud and anyone else who doesn't understand what Twitter is, how it works and how to use it.

What is Twitter?

Twitter always used to position itself as a "microblogging" platform; a means for people to express themselves in deliberately short snippets of text: no more than 140 characters. Over time, it's evolved, and can now be used for a lot of different things: as a means of staying up-to-date on topics that interest you; as a means of socialising with people who share your interests; as a means of staying in touch with friends; and as a means of yelling abuse at random strangers on the Internet.

The most important thing about Twitter is that it is a public means of communication. That means that anything you put on Twitter can be read by anyone on the Internet, and they don't necessarily have to have a Twitter account to do so. There is the option to make your account "private" — which means only people who are already following you or people you specifically grant the ability to follow you after they request it can see your tweets — but using that kind of misses part of the appeal of the site, which is coming into contact with people you may not have otherwise "met".

twitter1

The best way of thinking of Twitter in metaphorical terms is that it's a bit like being at a party, but a rather strange party where everyone present is constantly making speeches in the hope that someone will listen to them. Someone who follows you is someone who is listening to your speech; your tweets themselves make up the speech. This is the simplest possible use of Twitter; use it to express short snippets of thoughts and opinions into the world, and hope that someone, somewhere finds it interesting.

Key terms

  • Timeline: the main screen you see on Twitter, consisting of all the tweets from people you are following. The most recent tweets are at the top, and as you scroll down the page you'll see older and older tweets. The screen will keep scrolling forever in most circumstances, so don't try and reach the bottom, otherwise you'll be there all day.
  • Tweet: A single 140-character public message that may or may not include mentions.
  • Mention: A tweet that includes another user's username.
  • Direct Message: A private message between two or more Twitter users.
  • Profile: An individual user's Twitter page that shows just their tweets along with some brief biographical information they may have chosen to share. You can access any user's profile by going to http://twitter.com/username, replacing username with the username of the user whose profile you would like to see. For example, to see my Twitter profile, you'd visit http://twitter.com/AstralFireIII.
  • Avatar: (also "avi") The small image a user uses to represent themselves on Twitter. The default avatar is an egg on a coloured background. Since a lot of people habitually ignore "egg avatars" as they're a common sign of spammers, it's best to put some form of personalised image here as soon as possible; it doesn't have to be a picture of yourself.
  • Banner: The large image that appears at the top of your profile.
  • Follower: Someone who has chosen to follow you and have your tweets appear in their timeline.
  • Mute: An option that allows you to stop seeing tweets from people or that contain particular terms without outright blocking them.
  • Block: An option that prevents another user from interacting with you or seeing your tweets.
  • Retweet: An option that allows you to reshare someone's tweet onto your follower's timelines (optionally with a comment of your own), even if they aren't following the person you retweet.
  • Livetweet: A slang terms used to describe someone using Twitter to provide "live" updates on a situation that is unfolding. Most commonly used during press conferences or big news events where things can be announced, revealed or happen dramatically and quickly.

How do I interact with people?

There are several ways you can do this:

  • Mention: Also known as "@replies", mentioning someone involves including the "at" ("@") sign followed immediately by someone's username somewhere in your tweet. If you do this, the recipient will receive a notification that you have mentioned them.

    Important to note about mentions is the fact that if you put the @username at the beginning of the tweet, only people who are following the recipient of your mention will see your mention in their timeline. If you want your reply to be more "public" and visible to everyone, even if they're not the recipient, you can either put the @username elswhere in the tweet (at the end is common) or put something before the initial @username such as a full stop. The latter practice is often known as "dot-replying" and is considered bad form by some people.

    In our "party" context from earlier, this is like replying to someone's public speech and having a public discussion that other people can overhear.

  • Subtweet: I include this here only because people complain about it all the time. Subtweeting is a made-up word used to describe passive-aggressive tweets that don't directly mention someone, but which are clearly and obviously about a particular person. While it's delightfully easy to be passive-aggressive on Twitter, subtweeting is considered the height of bad form, so avoid it.

    In our "party" context, this is like making pointed comments about someone without actually mentioning them or talking directly to them. ("Someone should have looked in the mirror before coming out tonight!)

  • Direct Message: Also known as a "DM", a Direct Message is what you use if you want a private conversation with one or more other Twitter users. Direct Messages do not appear on your respective timelines, and instead appear in the Messages tab. To send a Direct Message to someone, either go to a user's profile or the Messages tab.

    In our "party" context, this is like dragging someone off to the bathroom (or room of your choice) for a private conversation.

  • Favourite: Clicking the "star" icon (it sometimes appears as a "heart" on some Twitter apps) under a tweet has a similar effect to the "like" button on Facebook. It's an interaction that basically says "I like this" or "I want to keep track of this for later". You can revisit your favourites from your own profile page, or look at other people's favourites from theirs. Favourites are public!

    In our "party" context, this is like nodding approvingly at something someone has said. Alternatively, some people use it like making a note of something someone said to revisit later.

  • Retweet: If you see a tweet you particularly like, agree with or just want to share for one reason or another, you can retweet it. This means it will appear in all your followers' timelines, even if they don't follow the person you retweeted. You can optionally add a comment to a retweet if you want to add your own thoughts on it.

    In our "party" context, this is like repeating something someone said to you earlier to someone else.

  • Hashtags: Adding the hash sign ("#") to a word (or cluster of words with no spaces) turns it into a hashtag, which your followers (and you!) are then able to click on to see other people talking about the same thing. This is most commonly used by marketers or communities who want to keep track of discussion on a given topic easily without having to follow hundreds of individual users. Some hashtags become mini-communities in their own right.

    In our "party" context, this is like all the jocks clustering in one corner and talking among themselves, all the nerds in another corner talking among themselves, and all the Game of Thrones fans sitting in another corner giving their own play-by-play commentaries of the episode that is currently on the television.

What else can I do on Twitter?

Besides following people and interacting with them via the means listed above, you can also group people (including those you aren't following) into Lists, each of which then gets its own individual timeline — this is useful for collecting together things that you might want to keep track of, but don't want to clutter your main timeline with.

There's also a powerful search function that lets you look for users, hashtags, topics and even specific things people have said.

What should be the first things I do on Twitter?

  • Update your profile. Make sure that you can be found (assuming you want to be found!) by including your name (or a known pseudonym you use) and some biographical information, optionally including your location.
  • Add an avatar. Egg avatars are habitually ignored, so put a new picture in as soon as possible. Go to your profile and hit the Edit button and it's simple to do.
  • Follow some people. Twitter is made for socialising, so follow some people you find interesting or want to stay in touch with. Don't feel obliged to follow all the people they follow, because you may have different interests. Instead, over time, gradually curate your following list until your timeline looks the way you want it to.
  • Interact with people. People won't follow you back unless you give them a reason to. Interact with them, talk with them, engage with the things they're saying.
  • Try not to get into any fights. Twitter's brevity is a blessing and a curse; the 140-character limit protects against waffling somewhat (though many people get around this by simply chaining long strings of tweets together by replying to themselves) but this also means that, on occasion, certain nuances can be lost. Discussions on contentious subjects can escalate quickly!
  • Gratuitous self-promotion. Twitter is used by a lot of people as an important means of getting their work in front of as many people as possible. Don't be afraid to link to things you've written or otherwise produced that you particularly want people to take a look at.
  • Enjoy! Twitter can and should be fun and useful. If it's not, though, don't worry! Some people simply don't get along with it as a means of communication and happily go about their lives without it. Follow the tips above, though, and you should be getting the most out of it in no time.

1991: Reddit in Trouble?

I find online social networks a fascinating thing to observe and sometimes participate in. Twitter is the main one I'm a part of, and over my time using it I've been part of a number of different subcultures that make use of the site as a means of talking to one another about common interests, regardless of geographical location.

In this sense, social networks are a bit like real life; you tend to gravitate towards people with whom you have common interests, and you drift away from people you find objectionable or simply don't mesh well with. It's exactly the same online; I know exactly the sort of people I'm likely to get along with, and exactly the sort of people I want to avoid at all costs. The nice thing about online interactions is that you can — for the most part — take a lot more control over your experience than you can in reality. You can't, for example, choose the people that you work alongside, so if you dislike, say, your manager or another member of your team, you can't get away from them. You can, however, mute or block people you don't gel with online; while there's an argument that this can lead to an "echo chamber" effect in which people are unwilling to have their viewpoints and opinions truly challenged, for the most part I find this a good way of minimising the stress that social interactions (be they real or virtual) can sometimes cause me.

One social network that I've never quite managed to integrate myself into is Reddit, and that's simply because Reddit as a whole is such a hugely sprawling entity that it's difficult to know where to start. There are popular subreddits for pictures, jokes, games and all sorts of other things, as well as highly specialised subreddits for niche interests or simply running jokes. Effectively, each subreddit is like a forum with message threads and discussions that follow on from an original post, but there's also a sort of "metagame" aspect to the site, where you earn points for posts and comments according to the community's overall reaction to them. This metagame doubles as the site's main means of automatic "curation" — high-rated content shifts to the top and becomes more visible, perhaps even hitting the front page of Reddit (which often describes itself as "The Front Page of the Internet", though Facebook might like to believe differently) if it's really popular and transcends its original context.

Reddit's an interesting site to browse even if you don't actively participate, though. It's the birthplace of a number of now-commonplace Internet memes and jokes, and the community as a whole can usually be relied on for some highly entertaining, quick-witted responses as well as scathing takedowns of stupid, ignorant or bigoted people. Assuming the subreddit you're in isn't specifically designed for stupid, ignorant or bigoted people, of course.

Now, this latter aspect is where things have got a little bit interesting recently. Reddit has traditionally positioned itself as being a bastion of its interpretation of "free speech" online, trusting individual subreddit moderators to set the rules for their individual communities and enforce them accordingly, while at the same time ensuring that nothing actually outright illegal is posted, and if it is, that it is removed quickly. To date, it's worked pretty well; while there are some subreddits that are the online equivalent of a notorious dark alley you probably wouldn't wander into alone if you didn't have a very good reason to be there, for the most part each individual community has kept itself to itself, content with its own little space of the Internet for its discussions, even when said discussions might not be welcome elsewhere on the Internet. ("Gamergate" subreddit "KotakuInAction" is a good example of this, and there are plenty of others along the same lines.)

But there have been Happenings recently. As someone who isn't an active participant in Reddit, I haven't really been following the whole drama, but so far as I can make out, Reddit brought on a new CEO recently known as Ellen Pao, and she has not been a popular "leader" for the site. The popular conspiracy theory is that she's attempting to "clean up" Reddit prior to selling it off to the highest bidder — likely Facebook, who would doubtless very much like to get their hands on "the front page of the Internet" — and in the process is ruffling a whole lot of feathers of people who have traditionally found Reddit to be a good home for their discussions and activities.

Pao's actions coupled with a widely-criticised lack of communication between the overall Reddit administrators (who run the site as a whole, and have the power to ban and "shadowban" users according to their behaviour) and the firing of a number of Reddit employees for seemingly questionable reasons have been causing rumblings of discontent for some time, but it seems that today, for whatever reason, was the tipping point; a number of popular subreddits, including front-page, "default" subreddits that are automatically included in a new Reddit user's list of subreddits, have "gone dark" in protest against Pao's management, the aforementioned lack of communication, a very inconsistent application of the "rules" for the site as a whole and, in some cases, a rather opaque sense of what the "rules" actually are. These subreddits have "gone dark" by setting themselves to "private" mode, meaning that only users who are already approved to post there (usually just subscribers to that particular subreddit) can see what is going on and being discussed; casual browsers, those who are not logged in or those who are not subscribed, meanwhile, are simply shown a default page explaining that the sub is private, and the reasons for it.

Over the course of the day, more and more subreddits have "gone dark" in protest, effectively crippling Reddit's traffic as a result. It's been absolutely fascinating to see, and while I don't 100% understand the reasons for the protest at this time, I think it's a potent reminder that when you create something as sprawling as a social network, as much as you'd like to think you can stay in complete control of it, ultimately the site it made or broken by its users. Without users, the site is completely useless, so if you piss off those users then you're going to have a big problem.

It remains to be seen whether Reddit will pull through this debacle, or whether a young pretender like Reddit clone Voat is ready to pick up the baton and try not to make the same mistakes. (I mention Voat specifically because they have reported record amounts of traffic since the controversy really exploded today.) This isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened, after all; Reddit originally grew to prominence thanks to the once-popular Digg fucking itself up beyond all recognition, so while it may seem dramatic to contemplate that this might be The Beginning of the End for Reddit, it's certainly not beyond the realms of possibility.

Basically, the lesson from all this appears to be pretty simple: don't think you know better than your users. Because you probably don't.

1971: don't bully!!

Here's a curious paradox for you: how much of the supposed epidemic of "bullying" and "harassment" going on on the Internet these days is down to people bringing it upon themselves?

This isn't a question of "victim blaming", as the buzzword has it, but it's an actual phenomenon that I've observed — and, in my younger days, even engaged in myself. I can't explain why I did such a thing, but I know I did it, I know that I was aware I was doing it even at the time, and yet I simply couldn't stop myself.

I suffered dreadfully at the hands of bullies in primary school. I'm not sure what it was about me — my hair, my accent, the fact my ears appeared quite large in comparison to my head (I've since "grown into" them, I think) or some combination of all of the above and a few other things besides — but I was a regular target for some of the schools more notorious troublemakers. And it wasn't to do with my friendship group, either, as on a number of occasions my supposed "friends" actually sided against me in an attempt to win favour points with the bullies (who, inevitably, were the "cool" kids). Perhaps it was self-preservation, perhaps they'd really had enough of me; either way, it was a betrayal, and it hurt.

But I know that I was partly to blame for some of the incidents that happened. I recall deliberately goading the bullies on more than one occasion — swearing at them, insulting them, trying to attack them — and inevitably being knocked to the ground, winded and crying. The teachers on duty would do their usual "come over and look concerned" bit, but then nothing would ever happen to the people who had assaulted me. And so the cycle would repeat, over and over again.

Perhaps it was an attempt to claw my own little bit of "power" on the playground, because I was very much at the bottom of the food chain. Perhaps it was an attempt to let out my frustration about what I now recognise as social anxiety and difficulty interacting with some people. Perhaps I was just a little cunt. I honestly don't know the reason. But what I do know is that despite the fact I was the "victim", I was also genuinely to blame for a goodly proportion of those incidents — not all of them, mind, but a fair few of them.

And I'm reminded of this as I watch interactions on social media today. Mr Brandon Orselli, the chap who runs NicheGamer, an independent games site that I've become quite fond of, regularly has to fend off people who start attacking him, his work and his staff without any sort of provocation. Their reasoning? His site has, at times, been sympathetic to the consumer revolt known as "GamerGate", which has now been raging for some ten months and, despite a considerable amount of evidence to the contrary, is still regarded as a "hate group" of "misogynists".

Now, I'm not here to talk about GamerGate and whether or not it's right (largely because I know it's a topic of discussion that tends to become irrational very quickly — both "sides" are very much at fault in this regard, and frankly I want nothing to do with the perpetual arguments and finger-pointing) but one glance at the front page of NicheGamer will tell you that it's absolutely not any sort of GamerGate propaganda rag. Rather, it's an up-and-coming independent site with a clear focus, a staff that is obviously passionate about their work — including some highly knowledgeable specialist writers — and an editor-in-chief who is not afraid to stand up for himself, his work and his site.

Orselli does admittedly, at times, come across as a little arrogant on social media — but you know what? I understand the pride he takes in his work, and the pleasure he feels when things go well for his site. And I very much respect his choice to take the bull by the horns and engage these "critics" in an attempt at conversation even as they are, at times, spreading information that simply isn't true.

Why am I reminded of my own playground experiences? Well, the sort of people who are attacking Orselli and his staff remind me of the young me. They poke and they poke and they poke and they goad and they goad and they goad… and then they call foul (or, more accurately, "harassment") when the person they've been poking and goading bites back. (It has to be said, mind you, that it's not quite the same situation: Orselli is not a "bully", has shown admirable self-restraint and civility in these interactions, and has been a lot more calm and collected about them than I probably would be!) In other words, observing from the outside and recognising this behaviour as something I once did (as a child!) makes it seem very much like those attacking Orselli, his site and others like them are specifically going out and looking for trouble so they can further their "harassment" narrative.

Certainly nothing I've seen of NicheGamer's output — and since I've pretty much stopped following big games sites as they don't cover many of the games I'm interested in these days, it's one of the few sites I do check in on semi-regularly — warrants the sort of unpleasantness I've seen hurled at Orselli and his team on a seemingly daily basis, whatever your feelings on GamerGate (which, as previously noted, is not the same thing as NicheGamer). If anything, NicheGamer should be applauded for trying something different in a world of identikit big magazine-style or blog-type games sites, and catering to a specific audience rather than casting a very wide but very shallow net.

But anyway. It hopefully goes without saying that this isn't any attempt to diminish any instances of genuine harassment that actually goes on on social media — after all, I've dealt with it myself, so I know how shitty it is. But this sort of behaviour — deliberate provocation — just rubs me up the wrong way, particularly as I've suffered at the hands of bullies many times over the years, both by bringing it on myself and through no fault of my own. So in the words of Twitter's favourite anti-bully ranger:

https://twitter.com/antibullyranger/status/609751052125016064

Or, to put it another way, don't be a cunt.

1888: Put the Phone Down

I'm coming to detest my phone, not necessarily for what it is, but for what it's done to me.

I don't specifically mean my actual phone, either; more the general concept of smartphones and the "always-connected" nature of modern existence.

I don't even specifically object to the "always-online" nature of modern society, more the habits — or, more accurately, compulsions — that it tends to instill in people. I've become very conscious of my own compulsions in this regard recently, and I'm making an effort to try and change my habits.

Here's the problem for me: picking up a phone and fiddling with it (usually checking Twitter and/or Reddit) has become a default thing to do if no better activity is available. Phones are great for that; with the wide variety of apps available these days, there's something sure to distract and entertain even the most attention-deficient individual, even if only for a few seconds. That "even if only for a few seconds" thing can become a problem, though; the fact a phone can fill an empty few seconds easily means that it's easy to reach for it while you're in the middle of something else, breaking your concentration and perhaps immersion.

I became particularly conscious of it while I was playing Criminal Girls the other day. (Side note: I've now completely finished that, so expect a comprehensive writeup on MoeGamer very soon.) I noticed that even mid-battle, I was reaching for my phone and fiddling with it while animations were playing, or sometimes between turns. There was no good reason for it, either; I wasn't particularly interested in what Twitter had to say at that moment, and I was genuinely enjoying the game. It was just a nigh-uncontrollable compulsion to reach for it and look at it.

It happens in the night sometimes, too. I can't get to sleep, so I pick up the phone and look at whatever vapid nonsense social media is spewing at any given hour. There's rarely anything meaningful — although there's occasionally an enjoyable late-night conversation with some of my friends in other timezones — and it doesn't really have any value; it certainly doesn't help me get to sleep when I find myself mindlessly refreshing for minutes at a time instead of putting the damn thing down, closing my eyes and trying to disconnect from the stimuli of the outside world.

So I'm trying to stop myself from doing these things. When I'm sitting down to play a game, unless I'm specifically intending on "liveblogging" my experiences as I play, I've started putting my phone out of reach or, at the very least, covering it over so I can't see the notification light and screen. When I go to bed, I've started switching my phone off altogether rather than just leaving it in standby mode. And while a phone is a convenient thing to fiddle with to stave off social anxiety when dealing with other people face-to-face, I'm going to try and make an effort to keep it in my pocket unless it becomes clear that I really am surplus to requirements in a particular social situation. (Not necessarily in a negative way; I may just be along for the ride while others are discussing making arrangements for something or other that doesn't directly involve me, for example.)

I feel like smartphones have done serious damage to our collective concentration spans over the last few years. And I'm quite keen to get mine back.

1883: Social Justice, Public Shaming and Why I Want My Friends Back

I'm probably going to upset a few people with this post, but this is something that has been festering inside me for quite some time; something that I need to release by talking about it. I hope doing so will help me feel a little better, as well as make the people who care about me aware of the way certain increasingly prevalent attitudes in popular culture make me — and, I'm sure, others like me — feel.

I'll kick off with an immediately contentious statement: I completely understand why the term "social justice warrior" is used as a pejorative.

I will immediately qualify this by saying that I do not think the concept of social justice is unimportant, nor that it is something that should be swept under the carpet and ignored. There are still problems with attitudes towards marginalised groups in society. There are still groups out there whose sole reason for existence is an irrational, burning hatred of certain people. There are subsets of passionate fans in all interest groups — be it video games, sports, movies, books, anything — who do not have a positive influence on the community as a whole.

However, I believe that for the most part, human beings are fundamentally decent people. I've met my share of assholes, sure, and seen evidence of people being mistreated, insulted and even threatened online — although, on that note, I will also say that we're collectively a little hasty to jump to the descriptor "death threat" when it isn't always particularly accurate. But I've also met enough decent people in my time in this world and on the Internet to find it difficult to believe that the world is the seething morass of hatred and prejudice that the most passionate advocates of social justice — the aforementioned "social justice warriors" — believe it is.

Let me clarify my earlier statement. The term "social justice warrior", as I see it — and as many others see it, too — does not simply apply to anyone who believes in social justice, otherwise there would be no need for it; it would simply be a means of describing pretty much everyone who isn't an asshole. Rather, it describes, as noted above, a particularly passionate and outspoken advocate for social justice — and someone who is not above using particularly unpleasant tactics to try and get their point across. Tactics like public shaming; insulting; "othering"; discrimination; ignoring opinions based on socioeconomic, ethnic, gender or sexuality groups; dogpiling… the list goes on, and, you'll notice, these are all things that anyone who truly stands for social justice should really be against the use of, regardless of who they're aimed at. A "social justice warrior" would discount my opinion on all this, for example, because I'm a white, straight, heterosexual, cissexual male: the very definition of the concept of "male privilege" that many of them cling to so very desperately.

Why is this a problem, though? It's easy enough to ignore and filter out other bile-spewing groups based on hatred — when was the last time you accidentally stumbled across neo-Nazi ravings without deliberately going looking for them, for example? — so why not just tune out these people? Well, the answer to that is simple: unlike other hate-spewing groups, these loudmouths are increasingly infiltrating mainstream popular culture having positioned their approach as being "correct" from a moral perspective. My experience of them has largely been in the video games sector, but from what I understand, they've had a fair crack at numerous other communities over the last few years, too.

Let me explain why they bother me so much, and hopefully, my dislike of their tactics will become a little clearer.

A few years back, a games journo friend of mine — Jeff Grubb of GamesBeat — wrote a news story. I forget the exact details of the story (and can't seem to find the original since GamesBeat's numerous refreshes over the last few years), but it involved, as I recall, Twisted Metal creator David Jaffe making some contentious statements that involved the hypothetical punching of a woman in the face. Jaffe wasn't advocating for violence against women, of course; doing something like that directly would be tantamount to career suicide; if I remember correctly, the context was something to do with playing multiplayer games and reactions to winning and losing. The details of the story itself are somewhat unimportant, anyway; what I'm really concerned with here is the reaction to it.

Jeff wrote the piece on Jaffe's statements from a factual perspective — as a reporter, without editorialising. Different publications approach this sort of thing in different ways: more blog-style sites like Kotaku have no problem with their authors saying exactly what they think about a particular issue, whereas GamesBeat's parent site VentureBeat is more of a business-centric publication that is less concerned with drama and more with simply reporting what has been going on.

Because Jeff didn't condemn Jaffe's statements in the article, however, he attracted the ire of an early incarnation of the "social justice warriors". The situation became worse as he attempted to defend himself on Twitter; as time passed, more and more people, including high-profile games journalists with large followings, started attacking him — rather than Jaffe, who arguably should have been the subject of their ire, though even that's debatable, given what I recall of the context surrounding his comments — and publicly shaming him, denouncing him as an "example of white male privilege" and effectively setting hordes of followers on him. I became seriously worried for his safety and wellbeing while this was going on.

This wasn't an isolated incident, either. Numerous times over the last few years we've seen outspoken members of the industry with social justice leanings adopt the tactic of publicly shaming and bullying, even going so far as to threaten people with ending their career. Most recently, we've seen Polygon's Ben Kuchera attacking a member of EA's customer engagement team over the latter's concern over community-made Twitter "blacklists"; in previous months we've seen the widely celebrated writer Leigh Alexander threatening to end people's careers, feminist critic Mattie Brice throwing a hissy fit when someone called her out on a sexist joke and all manner of other atrocious behaviour. It simply isn't acceptable.

All this isn't to say that these people can't voice their concerns. What I do find myself violently disliking about this culture of public shaming that has been growing over the last few years, however, is that there's little to no "right of reply" in most cases. Once someone is branded as a misogynist, sexist, transphobe, racist or whatever by these self-appointed crusaders of morality, there's no recovery from it. They have no opportunity to say "well, hang on a minute, here's why you're not quite right there…" and no opportunity to criticise the arguments being levelled against them. More often than not, critics of Kuchera, Alexander et al are swiftly blocked, silenced and/or mocked, simply because the "social justice warrior" position has been successfully positioned as the "correct" attitude. The same thing happens when anyone attempts to start a conversation surrounding feminist critic Anita Sarkeesian's Tropes vs Women video series; while she does attract plenty of hate-filled bile — and that, let's be clear, is always unacceptable — she and her team appear unwilling to engage with or discuss legitimate criticisms of her work, and often post deliberately provocative statements seemingly with the sole intention of drawing the trolls out to point and laugh at them.

Now, I've been standing on the sidelines throughout all of this. I have, thankfully, never been attacked by these people, even when I was working in the mainstream games press on GamePro and USgamer, even when I was writing about notoriously provocative and controversial games such as Senran Kagura and other titles from Japan. Perhaps I was just too small fry for industry "megaphones" (as Alexander calls herself) to bother with, and I'm not complaining; the fact I made a point of remaining positive while acknowledging these titles weren't for everyone helped me build up a decent audience who appreciated the work I did, particularly as it was in stark contrast to the majority of other sites out there.

So why does all this bother me so much? Well, because it's deeply, deeply frustrating, and because the culture of fear that these people are perpetuating online makes me very nervous about speaking on certain topics for fear of being ostracised. More important than that, however, is the feeling that it's driven a wedge between me and a number of friends whom I no longer feel particularly comfortable talking to because I know they've drifted more towards the social justice side of the fence — or, in some cases, become outright zealots. I miss those friends greatly, and it makes me extremely sad that I can't talk to them any more simply because I don't share their ideological viewpoint — or, rather, I do, but I fundamentally disagree with the methods through which they go about expressing that viewpoint.

What should people do instead? Simple. Champion the things that you're fond of and believe in, without putting down other people for what they enjoy. Diversity isn't just about creating experiences that "everyone" can enjoy, though that's part of it. Diversity is also about creating experiences that appeal to specific audiences. There's nothing wrong with that; in fact, it makes for more interesting, more focused pieces of entertainment that feel personal and relatable. Cater to men, women, heterosexual people, homosexual people, cissexual people, transgender or transsexual people, white people, black people, Asian people, anyone you like. Accept that some things are not "for" you — though that doesn't need to stop you from finding enjoyment in them, as the number of otome games I've enjoyed over the last few years will attest — and celebrate the things that are. If you believe that there aren't enough works catering to the groups you consider yourself to fall into, throw your support behind those that do or even make your own. Just, for God's sake, don't ever position yourself as The One Correct Attitude and point the finger of shame at anyone who doesn't fall within your own specific worldview, because that's where the majority of this nonsense is coming from.

I'm not a misogynist. I'm not a sexist. I'm not a racist. I'm not a transphobe. I'm not even an anti-feminist or a men's rights advocate. I just want these "social justice warriors" to understand that what they are doing is not, in fact, championing diversity; it's stifling conversation and creating a culture of mistrust between developers, players and press — and between friends.

I hate it. And I wish it would go away. And I want my friends back.

1774: Last Chance, Twitter

I know I've been very anti-Twitter and very anti-social media in general recently, but an unfortunate side-effect of "going dark" is, to be perfectly frank, loneliness.

It kind of sucks that social media is the default means of people communicating with one another today. I'll grant that it's a convenient and easy means of people to talk to each other without sharing completely "personal" details like email addresses or phone numbers, but I sort of miss the days of sending lengthy emails back and forth with people. I know the option is still there to do that, but how many people would actually respond, I wonder?

This is a preamble to the fact that I have rejoined Twitter in an attempt to reconnect with the people I effectively severed social ties with when I went dark a while back. I don't regret doing that — remaining clear of some of the most ridiculous Internet drama in years has been thoroughly pleasant, and it makes me glad to have the close friends I do have who have stuck by me even as I was harder to get hold of — but I have found myself somewhat wanting for conversation at times.

And so we come to this, then: an attempt to recapture whatever it was that attracted me to Twitter in the first place, and kept me as an avid user for a long time until I became thoroughly disillusioned with the whole thing.

The temptation with Twitter is to follow everyone and everything. A follow isn't the same as a friendship request on other forms of social media: it's not reciprocal. You can follow someone and they remain completely unaware of your existence. This isn't necessarily as harsh (or creepy) as it sounds, since many Twitter users make use of the social network primarily as a broadcast medium for keeping people up to date on the latest happenings or pointing them in the direction of posts, forums and articles that are a better place to hang out and talk in detail. Twitter is, after all, shit for nuanced discussion, as anyone who has ever attempted to discuss anything deeper than how nice the sausage you're currently eating is will have undoubtedly discovered.

I'm not going to do that this time, though. I'm not going to use Twitter as the noisy, messy hodgepodge of microblogging tool, text messaging service and RSS reader that it once was: the emphasis for me now is on the thing I always enjoyed using it for most: talking to people from all over the world.

I'm not going to follow hundreds of people. I'm not going to feel obliged to follow people who follow me unless I find them interesting. If people start retweeting things that upset or annoy me, I'll simply turn off their retweets — retweets, after all, are by far the most irritating feature of Twitter in my experience since it's a means of someone shoving a third party's opinion in your face — and if they remain annoying or upsetting after that then, well, maybe I don't really want to be following them after all.

My account is public at present, but once I have a nice little collection of followers gathered once again, I'm turning my account back to private, which means my tweets won't be public and people will have to request to follow me rather than just being able to do so. My professional life is now completely separate from my online existence, and as such I have no need to "network" online by sucking up to "important" people and trying to make them aware of my existence by building up as much "social capital" (to co-opt a phrase that means something else) as I can.

I can instead concentrate on using Twitter as a means of talking with friends and — hopefully, anyway — having a bit of fun. And with any luck, this will help at least partly deal with the feelings of isolation and loneliness I've been feeling recently.

1772: Around the Virtual World

Page_1I find Internet culture endlessly fascinating and, at times, more than a little terrifying.

One of the most interesting things about Internet culture is how small it makes the world seem at times. I recall when online connectivity was just starting to become a thing — beyond the old-school world of direct-dial bulletin board systems, that is — and as well as the obnoxious phrase "information superhighway" being coined, a second, lesser-known but rather accurate phrase came into brief usage: "global village".

The concept of the Internet — or, perhaps more accurately, the Web — as a global village is an interesting one, and if you spend some time wandering around online, you'll come to recognise the village's various haunts. There's the village hall that hosts everything from coffee mornings to neo-Nazi rallies (Facebook). There's the pub where everyone is always talking over everyone else and no-one's really listening to one another (Twitter). There's the deceptive village shop that looks small but actually carries a frighteningly comprehensive array of products of all descriptions (Amazon). There's the coffee shop where socialites of all descriptions like to hang out and have in-depth discussions about everything from literature to their sexual conquests (Reddit). And there's that dark, unlit back alley that very few people go down, but down which you'll find either an army of like-minded outcasts or a horde of terrifying monsters, depending on your outlook (4chan and its successor 8chan).

There's far more to the Internet than this, of course; the global village has become more of a town over the years, but it's never really lost that sense of having "landmarks" around the place: easily recognisable places from which you can easily get your bearings and which, should you choose to make them your regular hangouts, provide a sense of comfortable (or sometimes uncomfortable) familiarity.

They've all evolved over time, too. Take Facebook; when it originally launched, it was designed for college students. Then it expanded to take in young, cool people in general, and allow them to keep in touch with their close personal network of friends easily. Then it expanded again to become more public and open. And today, of course, almost everyone is on Facebook to some degree or another, regardless of age, gender, interests and even level of computer literacy.

Change hasn't always been for the positive, of course — although how you regard these changes, positive or negative, is partly down to your own individual feelings and how you want to communicate online. Twitter and I, for example, parted ways when it was becoming increasingly apparent that the microblogging service was being used by a lot of people more as a broadcast medium — and sometimes an echo chamber — than a means of communicating effectively. Its inherent limitations started to strain at the seams as people, for some inexplicable reason, started to think that it was an appropriate medium for having in-depth debates about complex issues. (It really isn't.) Then the marketers found it, trying to encourage us to tweet using the hashtags for their products seen on adverts or TV shows — who does this? And over time the noise built and built and built until, much like Facebook, it was not what it once was. For some people, it's still fun; for me, it had lost much of the charm that caused me to use it a great deal in the first place.

There's a lot going on behind the scenes in a lot of places, too. Take Wikipedia, for example; at face value, it appears to be a perfectly reputable source containing a vast array of information about pretty much anything you would care to name. Ostensibly being a reference work, much of it is written in an impartial, unbiased manner — though there are exceptions. And it's in those exceptions you start to see that yes, this is something that is put together and constantly maintained by humans, many of whom are doing it simply because they enjoy doing it. Dig further and take a peek at the inner workings of Wikipedia and you'll see that it's far from a solo effort; teams of editors are constantly discussing, debating, arguing and even fighting over the most peculiar of topics; in order to deal with such situations, the site has formed its own quasi-government to arbitrate disputes, with unfortunate instances going through strict, formal procedures managed not by Wikipedia creator Jimmy Wales, but by councils of users. It's fascinating to observe.

There are billions of people on the planet, a significant proportion of whom now have some form of access to the Internet. With that in mind, it's kind of crazy how small the Internet feels sometimes. That "global village" really is a thing and, while just like any other village, not everyone gets along with everyone else, the virtual world we've all helped build together is a fascinating thing indeed.

Just be careful if you venture into some of those dark corners. You might not like what you find… but on the other hand, there's always the possibility of being pleasantly surprised, too. Explore at your own risk!

1747: I Still Don't Care

Page_1Just slightly over two years ago (really quite surprisingly close, now I look at the dates), I pondered the subject of how I Don't Care about certain social issues.

That particular rant — kind of shocked how little things have changed in two years, to be honest — was inspired by the amount of time certain people spent pontificating on Twitter about how awful certain groups were towards other groups. Whether it was racism, sexism, ableism or any of the other bad -isms, there was always someone on hand to loudly denounce anyone who displayed one or more of these traits as The Worst Person Ever.

I've tended to find over the years that the more I find myself seeing the same things said over and over — and the more hyperbolic those things are — the less I'm inclined to care about them, until eventually you cross some sort of apathy event horizon and find yourself feeling completely and utterly unmoved by even the most tragic of human suffering. Desensitisation is very much a real thing — although I'll qualify that at this stage by saying that I am by no means desensitised to things like violent imagery or things happening to those who are close to me and that I care about.

I was reminded of this feeling today when a friend got in touch and told me about some dude I'd never heard of supposedly sexually assaulting a whole bunch of people, the dodgy things he'd said on Facebook and the rather specific, creepy details that his alleged victims had said independently of one another. Now, I knew that I was probably supposed to feel outraged about this apparent miscarriage of justice, but the fact is, I just couldn't bring myself to care even a little bit about it. I couldn't bring myself to Google who this dude I'd never heard of was; I couldn't bring myself to look at the news stories; it just didn't matter to me.

And, you know what? I don't actually think that's necessarily a bad way to be thinking about things. While it would be nice if all the good people in the world could wave their respective magic wands and make all the bad people's dicks fall off (where applicable), we all know that isn't the way things work. And it's all very well and good and probably morally admirable to get upset on other people's behalf, but there are an awful lot of bad people out there and only so many hours in the day. I know I'd much rather be concentrating on my own life and the wellbeing of those immediately around me (in social, not necessarily geographical terms) than wasting time — yes, I do think it is a colossal waste of time — getting angry on behalf of people I've never met, will likely never meet and have absolutely no means of relating to, helping or indeed having any impact on the lives of whatsoever.

Why do I say this is a good thing? Doesn't that make me some sort of woman/ethnic minority/disabled person-hating narcissist? Well, no, of course not — although a woman/ethnic minority/disabled person-hating narcissist would say that, wouldn't they? The simple fact is this: very few people are real "heroes". Very few of us have the power to make a true difference in the lives of people we've had absolutely no contact with whatsoever. And it's not good for one's mental health to continually get upset and angry on behalf of everyone who is wronged in the world. I've seen one friend go down that road, and frankly they became rather insufferable as a result. More than that, though, it seemed impossible for them to ever be happy, because there was always something new to get upset and angry about; they were perpetually in a state of anguish and fury, because there was no way to fix this broken world we live in. It was heartbreaking to see, and there was nothing I could do to help them.

Ultimately all most of us do is try to be the best people we can be to the people who do matter to each of us: family, friends and the acquaintances we come into contact with on a regular basis through work or other activities. If everyone simply tried to be a bit more excellent towards one another in their own social circles, the world would probably be a much more pleasant place overall.

Unfortunately some people simply appear to be hard-wired to be as un-excellent as possible to the people around them. And that's not at all cool, but if you have nothing to do with those people, harsh as it may sound, they're not your problem. They have to either recognise the problems they have themselves and do something about it, or the people who are close to them and care about them have to take action. You, as some random stranger on the Internet, have no influence, no power and, moreover, no real right to interfere with that person's life. Concentrate on dealing with your own issues, because everyone's got them to varying degrees, and if you're one of the lucky few to be in a place of relative contentment? Enjoy it, for fuck's sake; don't go looking for trouble.

So, to sum up: I Still Don't Care. And, I have to say, ditching social media has made it a whole lot easier to do just that. While my own issues mean that I'm still a way off feeling truly, completely 100% happy and content with my own life, I sure feel a lot closer to that ambition than I once was. And, should I ever reach it? I'm damn well going to enjoy every minute of it.