Twitter and the Crystal Goblet

, , , , — Rebecca Cottrell on April 3, 2008 at 9:28 pm

Twitter is the closest thing I’ve seen to the “crystal goblet” idea applied to social networking. ‘The Crystal Goblet’ was an essay on printing by Beatrice Warde which discusses the idea that printing should be invisible; that printed words should do their best to communicate the information instead of standing in the way of it, so that the “vintage of the human mind” isn’t spoiled by swirling ampersands and looping descenders.

Ideas printed in a book and means of networking with people online are entirely different things, but I really like the idea that some of the principles in Warde’s essay could be applied to social networking. Most basically, online services should be as transparent and camouflaged to human need as much as possible. Search is a good example: Google has become like the Helvetica of the internet.

Twitter’s character limitation has endowed each character you type into the box with extra value, as there are only 140 you could use. Twitter is naturally integrated into life, being very location-centric. In the past week I could have joined a friend in a cafe, an impromptu picnic, or a party, based on information shared on Twitter. Twitter is basically transparent to conversation, limited to 140 characters. 140 characters is the perfect length: long enough for a sentence or a question, and anything longer belongs somewhere else (which is why Twitter hasn’t completely replaced my need to blog).

The social dynamics are different from instant message, if you bring followers into consideration. It’s a hybrid forum-im-social network, which gives it a lot of power, and a lot of potential. The main problem for Twitter is that at the moment it seems to appeal mainly to geeks, while Facebook has wide appeal for everyone. Maybe it’ll take longer for its appeal to spread, and it’s still in an early adoption period…

Twitter vs Facebook, people vs facts

, , , — Rebecca Cottrell on March 5, 2008 at 10:17 pm

I’ve been trying Twitter for a couple of days (I’m eclat), after failing to see the point the first time I used it.

I now “get” Twitter and think I’ll be using it frequently in the future. It’s great for feeling connected to the people I know, to see which of my friends are around, and what they’re doing and thinking about. I’ve found I prefer to read tweets from people I know, rather than people I don’t know — though I’ve added a few bloggers because I’m interested in their updates. I also added a twittering plant which recently enjoyed media attention.

So far, I really like Twitter. I also really like Facebook, so I’m going to briefly compare my loves.

When I log in to Facebook, I like to see which of my friends have updated their information, photos, status, posted items, etc. Interaction via comments and messages goes on, but that’s not the focus of Facebook, and that’s not what I chiefly follow on Facebook.

One focus is on building a social network out of existing relationships. Another focus is on gathering and presenting information and facts about people. Photographs (visual facts, I guess), interests, favourite music, bio, etc.

Facebook has a Twitter-like status feature, but there is no way to reply directly to status updates. For that reason, status updates read as a monologue; they’re not part of a dialogue. Status updates feel lonely, somehow — they don’t invite longer conversations.

I realise now that this is why I feel uncomfortable about updating my status on Facebook. Self-consciousness; but also: who am I talking to? Who do I think is interested in what I’m doing or thinking about? Shouldn’t this invite or provoke a longer conversation? Perhaps it’s intentional that status updates are stand-alone, but I often find myself wanting to comment on a status update.

On Twitter, the focus is on people, stories, conversation. Facts get revealed through conversations on Twitter, rather than served up on a self-edited webpage, as they are on Facebook.

So far, I really like Twitter. I don’t think it can replace or compete with Facebook, because they’re good for different things.

© Rebecca Cottrell 2007–2010