Why Twitter? (WHY, Twitter?)

Some of you know I've had a Twitter account since 2009. I originally joined to hawk my wares on my now-defunct Etsy site, but stayed for the comments and other silliness.

And now I'm leaving.

With the changes being implemented by its new Musky overlord, Twitter shows signs of circling the drain. People are leaving in droves, and the ones who choose to stay will have to fight an uphill battle.

While Twitter is often crazy-making, I will miss it for many reasons -- one of which is the atmosphere. Every social media platform has its own peculiar atmosphere -- kind of the way every new place you move to has its own quality of light, its own sense of safety or danger, a particular scent to the air.

Facebook is being stuck in a huge room with all your family, friends and acquaintances, most of whom want to show you their photo books. There are a few "privacy" booths, but it's very easy for Gramma to accidentally meet your secret "friend" because NO COMPARTMENTALIZING ALLOWED.

Nextdoor is what happens when "Old Man Yells at Cloud" and your local paper's Letters to the Editor section have a baby. A very whiny, very entitled, often racist baby that makes you want to retroactively un-meet all your neighbors. (Can you guess it's not my favorite? Yeah.)

Instagram: BEHOLD MY GLORIOUS LUNCH. 'Nuff said.

Blogger: HAHAHAHAHA wait, people still blog in 2022? (...uh, yes. I do. So there)

I like Goodreads, if only as a place to keep track of what I've been reading (where DID that book go?), but social engagement on the site is sadly lacking. I don't even engage much on the site with the real-life friends I'm following on Goodreads. Anti-social media, maybe?

Then there's Twitter, AKA short-attention-span blogging. The character restriction leads people to scream slogans at each other rather than engaging in active discourse. The algorithm is designed to provoke anger and outrage. They keep tweaking the UI, moderation is, uh, uneven, and Elon just welcomed back Agolf Twitler.

It was kind of a hot mess even before the recent changes. So why will I miss it?

Because occasionally, Twitter did wonderful things. It would connect you with the account of a famous medieval poet who tweeted in Middle English. It would introduce you to people who shared short videos about cute fuzzy animals and humans being kind. It would put you in the way of up-and-coming comedians, famous horror writers, sassy food bloggers, Florida men whose beards ate combs for breakfast and who talked about Rule 303, amateur plumbers who'd tell you what to do about that knocking sound, and people who did their best, in 280 characters or less, to support each other and lend their strength in hard times.

Then there's the other kind of information. George Floyd's murder was shared on Twitter, and #drivingwhileblack began here too, showing how police profile black drivers. News about COVID-19 broke here, as well as the first medical strategies to fight it. And when Dolt 45 attempted a stochastic coup, Twitter (although it dragged its feet) was the first social media platform to ban him; once it set the example, others followed.

Twitter was the kind of place where you could scream a question into the void and (along with a share of random responses from bots and edgelords) you could get valid answers and links to more information from a half-dozen experts on the subject. And they didn't even have to be following you. If you let everyone reply, just about everyone WOULD reply. Some were jerks, but others were helpful, thoughtful, wise, kind. The kind of people you'd want as friends.

As with all social media platforms, your individual experience largely depended on the type of people/accounts with whom you chose to interact. But Twitter, despite its many failings, did a great job of connecting up people who might never have met otherwise. I don't know whether I'll find that particular atmosphere on Mastodon, or BlueSky, or Tribel, or any other proposed Twitter substitutes being bantered about right now. And although Twitter could sometimes make me feel crazy, I think losing its particular atmosphere is something to mourn.

Just something to think about.

P.S. - If you're interested in joining Mastodon, I can be found there at Soozcat@vmst.io.