In her recent critique of Twitter, Emily Johnson '12 appropriately laments the narcissistic nature of most posts ("Twitter Me This," April 6). She complains that Twitter is "like a Facebook where all you can do is update your status -- no wall posts, photo albums, bumper stickers or poking." OMG Emily, you are completely right. What you are missing, however, is that Twitter is much more than a fad for middle-aged parents.
Twitter is designed as a platform for the easy exchange of current ideas in a shorter format than traditional blogs. Its users should think of themselves as "micro-bloggers;" unfortunately, most don't.
Very few people use the site effectively, choosing instead to post updates about how great their sandwich tastes on a given afternoon. Sandwich experts aside, no one cares. This vocal majority of self-obsessed users fills Twitter with the kind of flotsam that Johnson has, quite understandably, become so disgusted with.
Yet if we lift our noses at a new platform for communication without learning its intricacies, we would, as Johnson clearly fears, become like our digitally ignorant parents.
Facebook, likely realizing the stupidity of bumper stickers and poking, has brilliantly adopted Twitter's update-centric format within the past few weeks. The site also granted users the option to "block" (now "hide") updates from uninteresting friends. Hiding 80 percent of my update list was an illuminating process; I recommend you try it. One can only take in so much information, and Facebook's blatant emulation of Twitter hints that the format is not only useful, but setting a new standard in information exchange.
Despite Johnson's simplistic declaration, Twitter has more "interactive features" than you could want. Directly replying to Yoko Ono is strangely satisfying, because there's a chance she'll actually read your message. The search feature found on the site allows one to peruse a list of relevant sites selected by humans with actual thoughts and opinions, rather than a commercialized algorithm. Google replaced in our lifetime? Maybe. The real draw is being able to follow what the right people are thinking. Twitter and identi.ca are tools with which you can build a network of relationships based purely upon the ideas of others and the trade of information. I'm currently following Snoop Dog, Cory Doctorow and Warren Ellis, among others. Twitter provides current, valuable ideas to anyone who bothers to look (yes, Snoop is always being Snoop, a fact I find highly inspiring).
While very few people care about how you're feeling, quite a few more might be curious about what you're thinking. Even more might like to know why. The thing is, if you can garner enough followers on Twitter, your opinions become a publicly recorded commodity. Having the ability to converse with people who are legitimately interested in your idea instantaneously is a good idea. Hell, it's why we came to Dartmouth.
Yet a few issues might present themselves over the long run. Is Twitter just a place for people to steal these thoughts? Timestamps might be all the credit you need. Everyone on Twitter is looking for something, but are enough people giving? A model I like is the "90-10 rule" (90 percent of posts should be adding information to the pool: links, comments or information. Ten percent can then be requests for help or links to a personal blog post). Doctorow often asks for tech help, while Snoop uses Twitter to rally people to events. One Twitter elite, a social media Ayn Rand, recently hinted at the site's true pitfall: "Chrisbrogan: Feed the system as long as you're getting value back. Be wary of the system feeding off you."
Johnson is correct in declaring that some smug "young adults have drawn a line at Twitter," but those who realize the abilities that micro-blogging services can offer, and skillfully filter out the garbage, will find themselves with a distinct informational advantage over the masses who can't see past sandwich updates. To dismiss a new communicative technology because we do not have the patience to explore its potential would be to cripple ourselves as a generation; to become as "lame" as our parents are. Our less pretentious younger siblings will assuredly be willing to experiment where we are not.
