A guest blog entry by Ike Pigott

Recently, Geoff asked a bunch of us to help him out with a social media exercise. His call for the creation of a Social Media Syllabus was answered quickly and efficiently, in exactly the manner you’d expect. The nature of social nets had already allowed him to sift through his universe of acquaintances in a non-intrusive way. It was an impressive list, and those who plugged in through any number of channels took away a patchwork of reading that is very likely to be related to the pieces they knew before. Except for one book.

“Who in the hell put FSTR on a Social Media Reading List?” Well, that would be me. And in the space below, I’ll explain why it belongs.

Our oldest notions of how the internet impacts our lives are very young, indeed — and our modern notions are not fully-formed; we’re still too close to our change. The “grandfather” of blogging has been at this for what, a whole decade now? And most internet users are just now catching up? There hasn’t been enough time to get a real grasp of what changes technology hath wrought on our individual and collective psyche, even if a crowd of self-proclaimed experts is spitting wisdom like wine at a tasting.

Enter James Gleick - award-winning correspondent and essayist for Discover Magazine. A talented writer, Gleick turned his eye on an important subject: the flattening of time. (I could make the case that Thomas Friedman took Gleick’s dimension of time, used it to distort space, and made the Earth Flatter for his best-seller. I could make another case that his previous book “Chaos” is even better, but I’m a sucker for non-linear math and unintended consequences.)

The book is “FSTR” - vowels removed because they take too much time. At the time it was written, “online social networks” were no more developed than AOL chatrooms and bulletin boards; people were still using Compuserve e-mail addresses; and the world was already going too fast.

FSTR’s a Good Read, and Relevant, Too

FSTR will be the easiest book to read on the entire list because it feels like you’re reading a blog. If it were written today, it would be as a blog and published as an afterthought. Its small chapters are focused lasers, then skip to the next meme. You can read them in just about any order - it’s encouraged.

While some of the individual observations seem overtaken by events, others take on an even more haunting timeliness (and timelessness) today. Much in the same way that our attention spans and expectations have radically quickened in the last century, so have the nature of our relationships. Back when it took actual time to reach, meet, converse, and get to know someone, there was a far different dynamic. You invested in a small circle of friends, and you valued them, because there was a finite pool of people in your potential sphere. Compatibility was a big issue.

Today - I can sign up for the Social Network du Jour, and be linked to a dozen people within a day. The expectations for such relationships are few, the threshold is low. Those signing up and binding electronically do so with the knowledge that others may render the entire affair disposable. Nothing gained, no more ventured. We can do this because massive pools of users allow us to reach the level of the trivial and superficial before asking any big questions. We can shift and realign allegiances literally issue by issue, and moment by moment.

The debate is already underway about Social Media Fatigue, or Overload, or Syndrome. In perhaps a harbinger of the times, instead of just naturally allowing a membership to die on the vine, Geoff tossed responsibility to the community: “Which networks should I ditch: Pownce, Twitter, or Jaiku?” It’s not enough that one or more must go - but Geoff is trying desperately to save time by disposing of one now! And he’s asking his loose web of blog visitors, feed subscribers, e-mail recipients, Twitterites, Powncers, Jaikutes, and their collective nets.

He seemed surprised when one Jaikute linked it deep enough in that community to violate the spirit of the original question. The deeper question is “How does it feel to be a disposable connection?” Sure, I’ve got Geoff’s e-mail and his cell number - but I don’t get Pownce behind the firewall at work. In this instance, the network is the thing - the people are just ingredients.

FSTR is a reminder that all of this is nothing new. Gleick’s prophetic vision of our obsession with slivers of instants is overshadowed by the recording and reportage of our past. The evidence that we’ve always been accelerating our time, each generation rocketing beyond the past. (Doctors during the early days of railroads predicted that rail travel would be impossible, as people would asphyxiate at speeds over 15 mph.)

As you pick and choose among the bright and shiny books on the list - dn’t gve shrt shrft t th 1 wtht vwls. It will likely save you a lot of time internalizing the philosophical change as we ponder the tomorrow’s burning question of the minute.

Ike Pigott has no business on a list of social media experts. He’s a former television news reporter who lives to help people communicate better and tell the story that matters. He works for the American Red Cross in Birmingham, Alabama, placing his squarely in the last profession and location where you’d expect to learn anything about anything. He blogs at Occam’s Razr, which is not nearly as colorful or well-read as the Buzz Bin. In his spare time, Ike teaches Kung Fu and writes self-deprecating bios in the third person.

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