Community, part 2

I think there are two problems with choosing to affiliate yourself with like-minded people who do not necessarily share geography with you.
1) They're like-minded people
2) They don't share your geography

1) When the only people you interact with are ones that agree with you, you will never have a reason to moderate your opinions. I think this is most obvious in the case of politics and has been widely-discussed. The echo chamber effect of listening to cable channels and pundits who agree with your world view and then establishing online relationships with people who think the way you do only serves to prevent people from acknowledging the possibility that others can think differently. It's like we can now all live in a small village of close-minded people who think that everyone outside the village is wrong and evil. Somehow, I don't think that's what "global village" is supposed to mean.

2) No matter how much time you spend in virtual space, most people are going to eventually leave their rooms and interact with others in "meatspace". If we are moving towards a future where you will not necessarily have anything in common with the people that you meet each day and may even have disdain for them since they are not part of your selected micro-community, then what kind of civic discourse can you have with them? Where is the chance encounter? the random stranger on the bus, the quirky cabdriver?

It's almost like the difference between searching on Amazon and browsing in a used book store. Amazon is all about searching with laser-focus for something you want and suggesting things that are like it. Browsing in the Strand is all about your eye catching a random spine on a topic you weren't even thinking about and that you know nothing about. Are we losing the randomness that leads to eclecticism and acceptance of difference?

The Long Tail and community

Trying out this blogging by blackberry thing.

The reason why this is such a big deal to me is that what's been keeping me from blogging more frequently is time and routine.

Just so happens that I have time on my highly routinized commute home every day. I expect far more output going forward (unfortunately, that doesn't guarantee greater profundity).

So one of the points of The Long Tail is that the blockbuster is busted. No longer will we have the one TV show that everyone in the country is watching at the same time. His point is bolstered by some numbers from Nielsen. For example, the number one show in 2006 would not have made the top 10 in the 70's. And that's despite the increased number of televisions, greater population, etc... There are just many more options and the pie is split into far more slices.

So my question is: what does this do to our sense of community? Used to be one could go to work and bond at the proverbial water cooler over Archie Bunker or M*A*S*H. Now, we're all segmented and you watched american idol, but I watched korean soap operas or downloaded a video or watched youtube instead.

Does this trend, only accentuated by the rise (once again) of personal entertainment devices separate us into balkanized city-states of personal interest?

Anderson's answer is that it just redraws the community lines. Instead of connecting to that yahoo next to me on the subway who also watched the big game last night, I'll reach out to the (international) online community of passionate high school curling fans who can share my anguish over the big loss.

And that connection, possibly, will be more important. Because I am choosing it. Fighting arbitrary distinctions of geography, I have sought out and found my cohorts, however few and far flung they may be.

All well and good. But there is the niggling little human need for contact - actual physical, eye-to-eye contact. Can we really replace that with blogs and forums?

More on this later