I first connected with Simone via email a couple of years ago and then re-discovered his blog thanks to a link in someone’s blogroll. The blogroll on his site is excellent btw, definitely worth checking out and the reason why I’m going to rewrite mine.Manuel Moreale
No matter how I approach social media, at its core there is a simple truth: in the long term it gets to a point where I stop enjoying it. The fact is, I loved Mastodon when it seemed content with being a nieche. I found amazing people there, a few of which have now become friends.
When broadcasters — the ones with a huge following and near zero reciprocity — started arriving, they brought a massive increase in posts about controversial topics, with no thoughts given to the use of content warnings. I’ve seen discussions tentatively kickstarted by clickbaits, and brilliant comments annihilating initial insipid posts. All of this was okay: without ever following the self-appointed influencers, I just built better filters, ignored the crap, and moved on.
Until something very different happened. The other day I checked my timeline, stumbling on a post by someone I’ve been following on the Fediverse for a long time. Even though we have rarely interacted, I’ve always enjoyed his takes on things. One of those persons with whom I feel a human connection without the need of becoming closer. He was complaining about a verbal aggression, describing the huge disappointment of having to face something like that on Mastodon.
A few hours after checking on him in private, I looked for the thread to see first-hand how it developed. The nasty pile-on of people united like an actual fascist mob, insulting someone who was simply trying to have a respectful debate, was awful to read. Unfortunately, the vicious attacks got to the point where Twitter-like death threats were dropped.
No level of controversy can justify this. It’s always possible to disagree, even vehemently, while remaining civil. I thought I left cowards and keyboard warriors behind when I deleted my Twitter and Facebook accounts. Wrong.
My conclusion is simple: I think we solved the need of an online social media long ago, when instant messengers and email allowed both quick and in-depth communication among people, whether one to one or in groups. Blogs and RSS feeds added even more. We didn’t need anything else.
Whether centralised or not, when social networks grow beyond a certain level they end up exposing the same flaws in human beings. I suppose this is the beginning of the end — unless I manage to strictly limit my involvement to musicians and a few friends, there is very little point in investing time there.
Stumbled on a “video podcast”1 by the people who call themselves The Minimalists. They were debating with Cal Newport about social media. I’ve noticed once again how almost everything that comes from the United States seems to be carrying a not-so-veiled specific patina. The push to self promote and sell looks relentless to me, like a prepared script. I watched the podcast and sometimes nodded in agreement — however, before I realised, I was struck with the indisputable fact that the ultimate goal seemed to package a product, or whatever that is, that could be later sold for a price.
Minimalism is an old concept, and it’s something that I’ve been practicing for a long time in a way or another, both in the daily life and in my work. Not the set of quasi-cultish rules these modern hipsters have carved in stone. Growing up in a poor family, I learned not to waste things, save money, reuse old stuff out of necessity, thus I’ve never approached minimalism from a privileged point of view. Being immersed in hyper consumeristic rituals has never been my experience.
The American modern version is clearly fixated on decluttering, but it also comes with a specific aesthetic. Their Instagram-perfect shots of big empty houses, proudly showing very few objects in the obligatory subdued palette, promote a way of life that looks unrealistic and fake. The fabricated social media friendly “free-in-exchange-for-your-email-address” PDF of 16 Rules to Declutter Your Life preaches on valid principles, while seemingly reducing them to a bourgeois vision through capitalist lenses.
Such lifestyle is not attainable by normal people. I mean the regular folks who need to go to work, cook their food, do the laundry, maybe some gardening or else — they can’t afford to spend buckets of money on few hyped products, buy coffee beans from a remote region in South America that cost half a salary at the point of sale. Above all, they cannot keep their place within a spotless private hospital aesthetic, because they actually live in there. They don’t usually give TED talks either, especially not to promote some other form of inspirational American Dream that’s great to sell another book.
I’d like to understand how and why I’ve been having this disconcerting feeling for so long. Am I that biased? When I have an exchange with someone living in the US, and I feel like the other person is not trying to sell me something, or subtly talking about money, their career, or ways to build up wealth, I’m positively surprised. I assume it’s not a malicious behaviour, surely many Americans do that without realising. However, I think that the trend must come from an ingrained cultural root.
Supposedly, the entire Western civilisation is to blame, I just happen to have noticed this behaviour from a specific geographic area. For sure I’ve grown tired of listening to rich privileged people who can’t see how transparent is their push to commercialise and make money off anything. I’ll close with a quote.
In a documentary about the [minimalist] movement, “bad” consumption is portrayed by masses of people swarming into big box stores on Black Friday, rushing over one another for the best deals. They are, we’re led to understand, slaves to material goods, whereas the people who stay away from mass consumption are independent thinkers, free to enjoy the higher planes of life.
But those people flocking to Walmart and other stores don’t necessarily see things that way. To go out and purchase furniture, or an entertainment set, or a television bigger than an average computer monitor are all beyond my means. That those major sales bring the unattainable items to a level of affordability is what drives all of those people to line up and storm through doors on Black Friday.
Those are people teetering on or even below the poverty level, desperate for comfort in their homes. To point to them as a reason to start an anti-consumerism movement is just another form of social shaming. Those aren’t the people who would benefit from a minimalist life. They can’t afford to do with less.
Ayumi Takahashi
Not sure what that is, sounds like “TV radio” to me. ↩