For all the talk of the Internet being open and free, there are quite a few rules to follow, both explicit and implicit, as well as some serious binding consequences with which to contend:
Conversation -- Chat room etiquette is often subtle and rarely consistent across communities; what is acceptable behavior in one conversation is anathema in another, though ignorance or abuse of etiquette is rarely tolerated within any group. Complex, mostly unwritten rules of conduct guide who, what, and when posts should be made on someone else's Facebook wall, while published rules dictate whom can be contacted directly by email and met out punishments for violating those limits (as on LinkedIn). Oh, and every conversation could be made public, so remember thatever you say or show now walks a fine (and undefined) line between sharing and the chance of utter embarrassment.
Content -- The rules for managing what content is appropriate on your own profile, wall, or web site pages are many, as are the short and long-term implications for your actions. Photos are meant to be shared with certain friends and hidden from others (especially if they're parents, insurers, or future employers). Declarations can be misconstrued and return to haunt the poster once circumstances have changed, as what once seemed innocently devious can later appear cruelly foolish or unkind. Some social platforms have their own language, like Twitter, which can seem utterly incomprehensible to the uninitiated. Search is a locator tool, not a fact-checker, so good luck discovering the truth.
Platforms -- The technology platforms and services responsible for hosting online conversation and content have their own secretive, ever-changing, and often times incomprehensible rules managing what's shared, with whom, and how it's used or repurposed. Users are encouraged to stay apprised of these circumstances but it's a complex etiquette with which to contend, and which is easy to run afoul (including or simply experiencing the consequences without understanding the causes). Individuals can also feel quite pressured and challenged by the unwritten requirements of keeping friends updated, choosing whom to update with what, etc.
Just last week danah boyd (a thinker who contributed to my first book) published a detailed explanation of her upcoming "email vacation" including the many steps necessary to do so appropriately.
Interestingly, none of this reality of ours -- all of the requirements of being networked, ambiently aware of one another, and facing the chance and frequent occurrence of impromptu engagement 24/7 -- makes its way into popular descriptions of online social phenomena. Sure, there are articles and blog posts that note various aspects of how difficult and sometimes constraining it is to participate in it (like people struggling to manage tweets, though there's an app for that, conveniently enough). But the takeaway concept or position is that our newfound connectedness has not only freed us, but improved the quality of our lives.
I'd like to offer a different take on it based on history: our connectedness has enveloped us in a complex set of rules and ritual...and yet indeed improved the quality of our lives. We shouldn't credit our imaged digital freedoms but recognize the restorative aspects of our New Victorianism.
You just said "huh," right? Hear me out:
The Victorian Era in the UK lasted for as long as Queen Victoria reigned, which was from 1837 to 1901. It was a time of massive, conflicted change in every aspect of life...economic, technological, and cultural innovations and crises were the norm, not exceptions, as the very experience of living in that century sped up to kick off the even faster and scarier 20th century. People started the 1800s living in primarily agrarian communities that resembled those of not just a hundred years prior but almost a thousand; by the time 1900 arrived, they were living in a future that bore little resemblance to a past that was still a living memory for many.
Yet in spite of all that change, one of the qualities for which the Victorian Era is best remembered is conformity.
Detailed rules of social behavior guided almost any and every individual or group action. There were broad ranges of actions, ranging by degrees from what was encouraged and celebrated to what was expected, through to things that were frowned upon and then some that were totally rejected and the cause for near-certain social death. Clothing styles were as uniformly known as they were regularly uncomfortable, yet the rules were followed in fear of the greater pains of social judgment. Individuals at every level of society had to comport themselves in near-constant recognition of the laws that explicitly and implicitly managed their every social action. No secret could be shared without at least some risk of it being forwarded and revealed.
For instance, etiquette ruled even the smallest details of conversation, noting the proper way to address someone across the room (you shouldn't) and establishing initial recognition (a head bow was preferred over lowering the eyelids). Visiting someone -- "calling" on them -- required specific introductions depending on whom was being called upon, who else was home, and the social/martial status of the caller. A women's hat or men's tie worn askew would surely be noted with disapproval, as violation of these rules was frowned upon, at best, and could get someone a bad reputation or ostracized outright, worst case.
Victorians were as networked as we are, though in an analog way. Many newspapers competed for readers and their journalistic integrity would make some of today's bloggers seem quaintly careful. WOM was the driver of communication, though, as members of the community made sure every slight and success was well-known through it (or across them, as various communities overlapped).
The similarities yield an intriguing conclusion: Since the world of the Victorians was as dynamically changing and challenging to them as ours is to us, it makes sense that both eras would see the creation of rules of conduct (etiquette) to provide a sense of order on qualities of experience that might be otherwise threatening or chaotic. The requirements of etiquette override fears of how to behave and what to expect. Where the similarities break down is in the ways we describe our new rules as freedom, and the limitations or trailing consequences of our social behavior as open.
Why lace ourselves into tight and constraining electronic corsets, and then pretend that we're not wearing anything at all?
If we look at the inherent conflict between what's happening and how we describe it, and then add the historic outcomes of Victorian society over it, there are a few intriguing suggestions worth discussing:
Why not tell the truth? Providing order isn't inherently bad, so why not change the theology behind social media activism to at least acknowledge the many rules and requirements of its experience? I sometimes worry that participants are being purposefully misled, especially when it comes to the control and use of their participation data; ultimately, those entities that control and direct such information are the only truly empowered beneficiaries of online openness. Perhaps the uncomfortable dynamic of the privacy debate would be easier if users were no longer told otherwise? Their experience already suggests the truth (at least for some of them). It's only going to become more obvious over time, irrespective of what the propaganda says.
It might lead to different approaches. Acknowledging the strictures of online engagement could suggest new ways to approach issues like identity, disclosure, and even the very purposes of participation. Much of the content that's propagated and shared these days has minimal substance or lasting value, which I'd argue is a result of our presumption that engagement is driven by delivering entertainment anonymously. Maybe brands (and public institutions) would share different stuff if there were a more visible and reliable statement of who is getting it and what they're doing with it? Wouldn't that be true transparency? Ditto goes for the implicit encouragement individuals get for sharing their personal information; could it provide a model (actionable by platforms and services) for defining who gets what, and what they're allowed to do with it?
The digital corset is impermanent. Even if the Victorian comparison is only somewhat valid, it still strongly suggests that all the requirements and dictums of online social engagement will go the way of the dodo and, if the time periods are comparable, it'll happen for us within the next decade or so. The 20th century replaced Victorianism, giving humanity a connectedness of information combined with a comfortable anonymity (in large part because mass media technology couldn't replace the controls that local WOM had once commanded). Could a similar transition happen for us? What could make all of Facebook's privacy issues and the drudgery of posting Twitter updates evaporate? A new technology device? Maybe some social reaction to the first two points in this list? I have no idea. But I'd put some serious money on the likelihood of it happening.
Now, an alternate future could be one like that created by sci-fi writer Neal Stephenson in his brilliant and under-appreciated novel The Diamond Age. In it, social classes operate as de facto tribes and the story's protagonist, John Percival Hackworth, is a member of the neo-Victorians...who have purposefully chosen to wear high collars, hoop dresses, and embrace the social etiquette requirements of polite society (while using nanotech and other cool sci-fi stuff). Maybe well go more Victorian, not less?
Are today's digerati are helping create such a future? I'd like to ask them, but I'm not sure of the appropriate etiquette for calling cards these days.