Yesterday’s Falcon Heavy launch:
And here’s a stream of a car, in space, in a wide orbit around Earth and Mars for the next billion years:
This is exciting on a lot of levels.
Maunderings of a Digital Self
Yesterday’s Falcon Heavy launch:
And here’s a stream of a car, in space, in a wide orbit around Earth and Mars for the next billion years:
This is exciting on a lot of levels.
Over at the New York Times, Early Facebook and Google Employees Form Coalition to Fight What They Built. The article is mostly a press release for some of the efforts the new Center for Humane Technology is doing, but I wanted to call it out because (as may be clear from some of my recent posts in the past few months) it’s a topic I care about.
There’s been several recent articles about loneliness lately, spurred at least in part by the UK’s recent creation of a Minister of Loneliness to help cope with what’s been called an “epidemic of loneliness.” There are a lot of reasons why the surge in both quantity and severity of loneliness is a bad thing (aside from the mental and emotional impacts, it ends up having physical ramifications as well), and while I’d say it’s too broad a topic to point specific fingers at the causes, I do think modern society certainly isn’t helping. It’s sort of telling that (pulled from the above Medium article):
Research on young people’s loneliness isn’t abundant. But what does exist suggests loneliness might not go away anytime soon as a health crisis: A UCLA Berkeley study published last year found that even though adults between 21 and 30 had larger social networks, they reported twice as many days spent feeling lonely or socially isolated than adults between 50 and 70.
In other words, the generation portrayed as savvy, socially connected people are actually feeling the most alone.
A good book to read on the subject of the role technology has in all these (and I do definitely think it has a role) is Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together. When it first came out a few years ago, I didn’t want to agree with her, but as time goes on, I fall more in alignment with her observations. (Here’s her related Ted Talk, which gives a good summary of the problems we’re talking about.) A quote from the Ted Talk that seems particularly relevant (emphasis mine):
We expect more from technology and less from each other. And I ask myself, “Why have things come to this?”
And I believe it’s because technology appeals to us most where we are most vulnerable. And we are vulnerable. We’re lonely, but we’re afraid of intimacy. And so from social networks to sociable robots, we’re designing technologies that will give us the illusion of companionship without the demands of friendship. We turn to technology to help us feel connected in ways we can comfortably control. But we’re not so comfortable. We are not so much in control.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m advocating becoming a Luddite or something. We live in an age of technology, and it’s unrealistic (and ill-advised) to imagine that’s going to change. But I do think we need to change our relationship with that technology. I think we need to foster and teach empathy and emotional intelligence, and help people work through the anxieties of trying to communicate with others and meeting new people.
I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about this subject (both loneliness in general, and our current social climate). I need to ponder some more about how best to express it.
Via Kottke.org, I’ve been diving into another film analysis Youtube channel that I’ve been really enjoying, called Nerdwriter. Some of the videos I’ve enjoyed, as a sampler:
My month-long hiatus from Facebook and Twitter are officially up at this point. Overall, I think it was a worthwhile exile: I wrote and shared a lot more here, and felt less stressed in general. It’s not some magic cure-all for stress or unhappiness, and I definitely still got into funks, but I do think it moved the needle on my general wellbeing.
I do think I’m not going to bother reinstalling either app on my phone, and frankly I’m not feeling particularly compelled to log in otherwise — though I wouldn’t say I’m officially “done” with either service, nor do I plan to delete my accounts any time soon.
So, yeah. If you’re on the fence about getting off social media (or at least drastically reducing your footprint there), I’d recommend it.
Anil Dash breaks down some of the most common myths about online abuse. The solutions aren’t always easy, but there are solutions to a lot of it.
We are accountable for the communities we create, and if we want to take credit for the magical moments that happen when people connect with each other online, then we have to take responsibility for the negative experiences that we enable.
In one of the Slacks I’m part of, we were discussing Cracked’s recent decision to pivot back away from video, which led to sharing some favorite videos. One of the videos linked to was an episode of People Watching (fair warning, if you’ve ever dealt with depression and modern dating, this is a goddamn punch in the gut):
That left me floored, and was politely informed that the writer for that also does a rad webcomic called Subnormality, which I proceeded to seek out and devour. It can get a little weird and a little wordy at times, but it’s really, really good. You should check it out sometime.
Continuing with the topic of the revival of blogging, emailed newsletters and small communities, Warren Ellis also recently commented:
I miss that long moment when the web seemed full of people doing the same thing, or thinking in public. It happens in the Republic Of Newsletters, now. But it was nice to have all those little radio stations broadcasting in the night.
And later stated:
I’ve seen the idea circulating for a while: come off the streams, own your own platform for your own voice and your own complete statements. It seems like a reactionary step, from some angles. But maybe that great river, The Conversation, was, like every river followed to its source, a dead end. The resurgence of the Republic Of Newsletters may be one aspect of a return to the ocean, dotted with little pirate radio stations broadcasting through the night again.
I like this metaphor (or combination of metaphors), and I agree. I’ve got a few newsletters I’m subscribed to at the moment, and I really appreciate them, particularly the ones that are a little more human, sharing a bit of the personal alongside whatever other interesting things they’re wanting to share. The same can be said for my favorite blogs, the ones I read without fail and never gloss over.
To Ursula Le Guin: You were an astounding writer, and by all accounts an equally astounding human being. I’m grateful for your stories and your thoughts, and what you brought to this world. Rest well.
In John Scalzi’s piece on Le Guin’s passing, he said it quite aptly:
Look at the top tier of writers in science fiction and fantasy today — names like Jemisin and Gaiman and Jeff VanderMeer and Catherynne Valente, as well as rising stars like Bo Bolander and Amal El-Mohtar and Monica Byrne — and you see the unmistakable traces of Le Guin in their work. Multiple generations of her spiritual children, making the genre more humane and expansive, and better than it would have been without her. And all with stories of her.
[…]
The speaking of her name and of her words goes on, and will go on, today and tomorrow and for a very long time now. As it should. She was the mother of so many of us, and you should take time to mourn your mother.