A long-time open secret

This week: Links returns! Also: robots, Instagram giveaways, challah, pandemic puppies and anxious influencers

May 28, 2021

I don’t particularly like social media. That’s a long-time open secret. I’ve been paid to write about the internet on and off for 10 years, and I enjoy that, but I derive little real pleasure from personally existing on the internet. I tweet because it’s expected; I Instagram because I’m bored. And while I’ve joined many online “communities” in order to write about them, I have not myself felt a real sense of belonging in any such group since … Livejournal, circa 2007. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That changed during my recent hiatus. (Thanks, by the way, for waiting it out.) In the days after Dory died, I flailed around looking for some kind of comfort: chocolate, Xanax, a “pet grief hotline” manned by very pitiable veterinary students.

Then, in the more desperate throes of my Googling, I found a Facebook group for people whose dogs had died, nominally administered by the American Kennel Club. I have not yet seen evidence that they moderate or participate in the group … but I have seen many, many paintings of a mournful Jesus cradling different breeds of dog. (Further Googling determined these are the works of one artist, a very prolific man named Shawn!)

Now, for at least 30 minutes each day, I comment and post in this sad little group. I tell strangers their dogs lived long, happy lives. I send “thoughts” and “good vibes” and “warm wishes.”

Not so long ago, I asked Dr. Casey Feisler, a scholar who studies online fandoms, why women in Peloton Facebook groups — who presumably joined for workout tips or instructor gossip — often end up spilling their guts about their marriages or children. Easy, she said: Humans bond when they share things in common. And a shared affinity for a pricey workout program (or a sports team, or a dog) is, under the right circumstances and on the right platform, pretty damn powerful.

I wish my shared affinity had proved slightly less tragic, if we’re being honest. But I’m grateful to understand all the fuss. Hoping you all find your online homes, if you haven’t already — and, for my American friends, have a hell of a Hot Vax Memorial Day weekend.

P.S. Many of you sent beautiful notes in response to my last email. Thank you, sincerely. I read and appreciated all of them.

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If you read anything this weekend

“Heat Listed,” by Matt Stroud in The Verge. Just in case you thought I was getting soft with all that ~online community~ talk, here are two reminders that we do in fact live in a grim digital dystopia. First up: Minority Report, but make it racist. (Also, real). Second: Behold the aggressive, “delightful,” blissfully un-self-aware creep of an AI-powered insurer.
“The Anxiety of Influencers,” by Barrett Swanson in Harper’s. I think I’m contractually obligated to share this, even though it published a week ago and falls into the fabled “Great Man among the youth” genre, which we usually eschew. But I found this … generally non-sneering! Also, riveting! In fact, I will probably read it more than once.
“What Robots Can—and Can’t—Do for the Old and Lonely,” by Katie Engelhart in The New Yorker. This story is, at its face, about old people, and a fascinating pilot program one county south of mine (!), but it’s also about human connection and loneliness more generally, and the holes tech can’t — or unexpectedly, can — fill in our lives.
“Status Anxiety as a Service,” by Noah Smith in Noahpinion. For anyone who has ever clicked on a celebrity’s tweet and wondered at the psychology that prompts eggs to respond.
“Who wins Instagram giveaways? An investigation,” by Allie Jones in Vox. Admit it: You also want to know. (But this raises more questions than it answers.)