A while ago I had a twitter-exchange with someone that ended with his observation that perhaps we are using Twitter in different ways. You see, he’d stopped following me, and although I’ve never met him in person, I felt (and still feel) a little lost without him.
Like an actor on a community theater stage, frozen in the middle of a scene, slack-jawed, lines forgotten as an audience member leaves. Time stopped as I wondered why and resisted the urge to chase after him.
How is it that Twitter brings to mind so many aspects of school yards and cafeterias and gym periods and locker rooms? Fundamentally, we want people to like us. Following me on Twitter is an indication that you like me, and that you’re interested in what I have to share.
The investment in follower-relations is low. I follow you, you follow me. I don’t have to pay more for the service. It seems courteous to follow back, like a handshake or a friendly wave. Relationships can be awkward if one-sided. For the most part, I’m looking for mutual commitment.
When, after we’ve been together for a while, you quietly ease out the back door, I find myself fretting over what I might have said or done to offend you. It’s silly, really; I know that. I don’t expect everyone to like me, and, when all is said and done, I am not sure what I’m looking for in our relationship anyway. But, why did you leave me?
The next time it happened, I asked. I’m not that good with social graces, and I really wanted to know. Talk about awkward! The poor soul was 100% gracious about it and followed me again, blaming an overzealous clean-up of his account.
There are random occasions when Twitter haphazardly unfollows people. I’ve been on both ends of that bug, and it’s no fun either way. But, that anomaly aside, I’m fascinated by the dynamics of social media friendships. Particularly in a realm where people can follow and unfollow me in the span of an unplugged vacation.
In the past weekish, one friend posted a great piece about the interactions of silence, experienced in person but lacking online. Another friend posted on “Five Ways to Make Yourself Interesting Online,” which I found relevant to life, not just the “online” aspects. Yet another friend tweeted a link to an article on the foibles of social media. It shouldn’t be surprising that my analytical mind kicked into overdrive and I’m forced to crunch on my thoughts and spill them forth so I can get back to work on the million other things I have to do today.
How do I use Twitter?
- Communication with my network: Sharing of myself (i.e. “Hey! Here are some interesting thoughts and activities I’m involved in, if you’re interested.”)
- Communication with my network: Learning about others (i.e. “… and what are you up to?” caught in snippets, when I’m able to devote a few minutes to a quick scroll through the folks I follow)
- Developing friendships: engaging in back-and-forth exchanges of conversation
Although in large part I play the follow-me/follow-you game, if I think you’re just a marketer, or you’re responding to something random I tweeted, I don’t follow back. If I do, and after some time you consider me firmly on your hook and you unfollow me, I unfollow you. Quid pro quo. I doubt we’ve developed much depth in our relationship, anyway.
If, by chance, I followed you because of some connection (which turns out to be the case for *most* of the Trifecta and 100 Word writers) and after a few months I realize you’re never going to follow me back, I have to cut the cord. I mean really? You’re all that?
The notable exceptions have broken through Twitter, crossing over into the *other* social media: Facebook, and occasionally e-mail.
It’s a lot like life with just the social, no media. I have plenty of casual acquaintances, particularly through work. At the broadest level are the people I know by sight, but not by name. We smile and nod in passing, and can strike up a conversation in the lunch line, but we don’t really know each other. Then, of course, there are those I’ve spent more time with, and I might ask about the little ones or the latest project efforts.
Closer still are the people of mutual interest and respect. Most of these people are linked via Facebook, so the bridge from Twitter to FB puts people I’ve never met face-to-face in good company. And in that circle, there are always opportunities for greater intimacy and deeper sharing, through other venues (in person or private messaging). These are the people that beckon me, drawing me in, creating a desire for a shared meal, pitcher of beer or pot of coffee. Maybe someday.
There is one other Twitter-group: those I follow simply because they are interesting, or produce content I find relevant. These are not my friends, but they are “all that.” The cool kids. I don’t mind being a follower, if the leadership is worthy.
In the end, I manage my network by choosing who I’ll follow, passing on folks like 革命姑娘, because even though she’s followed by five people that I’m following, she tweets in Chinese and I’m not likely to get much out of it (and I’m tempted to unfollow the five who are following her, because clearly these acquaintances are not too discerning). This is the same way I manage all of my relationships. I don’t consider a face-to-face meeting a requirement for friendship, and Twitter connections are part of my real life.
So, I’d love to know… how are YOU using Twitter?
I have pretty much given up on Twitter. So many links and so little time. And to prune at this point would take more time. I do post there when I write a blog post or take an interesting Instagram picture, and I do occasionally open it up and spend a bit with the back and forth. But so much gets lost and I am finding it taxing.
I see Twitter as taking a shot in the dark. Someone might see it and respond, but likely not. It moves too fast for me. One thing about it is how it is seldom filtered. Unless someone is using a list, they see everything. Sometimes, something sticks, but most times it just ends up way down the screen, gone to Twitter heaven.
No doubt that I’ve made some valuable connections there, though. And I’ve taken those elsewhere, where the content means more.
Funny that you used Neil’s post as a springboard for one of your own. I just did that very thing. He’s something else . . .
I love Twitter more than I ever have, and I use it in a variety of ways. I have people that I consider genuine friends — either we know one another IRL, or we’ve spent enough time together online that it’s gone beyond a casual acquaintance (like you). I have people I think of as “mutual followers” — we each give something and we each get something. It’s not constant, but there’s quality there, nonetheless. Then I have people I might never actually interact with, but I’m interested in what they tweet for one reason or another, usually because they’ve shown themselves to be reliable sources of information that either interests me or informs my business. All of this fits under one private list, called “Real Twitter” (subdivided into more specific lists, but that’s not important here). Everyone else gets a follow-back if they’re not a bot, link spammer or pR0n star, but I never see a thing they tweet.
What I keep in mind above all is that Twitter, like anything else I spend my time on, should be exactly what I want it to be. If it causes me stress, drama, or negative feelings, I do what I can to eliminate the causes — whether that means unfollowing someone, removing them from “Real Twitter,” or both. At the end of the day, the time I spend on Twitter is time I’m choosing not to spend on something or somewhere else, so it had better be worthwhile, enjoyable, informative, thought-provoking, and fun.
This post brings up so much that I want to say, but I don’t want to steal the spotlight from your post, and beside, it is hard for me to verbalize well. I am always fretting about social media because it makes me uneasy. We are all there for different reasons, with different agendas, and it is hard to find your place. I follow you. I follow the New York Times. I follow Steve Martin. I follow good friends. I follow intelligent journalists who never follow back. It all becomes one big mess, partly forum and partly promotional. You need a bit of a thick skin to succeed in Twitter, because you rarely get the personal attention you would demand in real life. I don’t know how many times I have seen a friend tweet, “My mother just died.” and this thought quickly gets lost in the stream as others argue about some TV show or political idea. It’s as if every 140 character statement is a blip for a second, to immediately fade away. My solution to enjoying Twitter is always remember that — that while it has the illusion of real conversation, it isn’t. It is more of a 24 hour cocktail party in a crowded room. I’m discovering that IM — or even Facebook, is a quieter place to connect.