What Would I Say?
This week you might have noticed a certain “status creator” meme popping up all over your Facebook feed. What Would I Say is reminiscent of the earlier cleverbot, except it takes your past status updates and “predicts” (read: creates) a new one you can post directly to your own timeline. Instead of carrying on a conversation with a robot, you’re actually allowing the robot to create a conversation for you.
The rise of social networks has confirmed that users, be it first timers or addicts, are narcissistic. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and the like are all driven by the idea of digital interaction via comments, likes, retweets, and reblogs. One can’t really argue the feeling you get from posting content that receives zero response compared to content that garners heavy engagement is markedly different. When you see people becoming involved in what you’re saying, you get excited, a sort of social high. You get the feeling that what you just posted matters.
Going back to the What Would I Say bot, it’s easy to see why people are hooked. You click a button and it generates a sentence (sometimes barely English) that is supposed to be a representation of your social presence; something you might say. This hodge podge of content is funny, relevant, and at times scarily accurate. People believe in it because in essence, it’s drawn from their own thoughts.
So that brings me to a question I’ve thought about many times as a writer and avid social media user: What makes people post the things they post?
When you think about it, most social networks are new age diaries or journals, allowing people to jot down thoughts, stories, photos, really anything their heart desires or feels. I remember keeping a diary when I was 11 up until I was about 15. It even had the typical “Do NOT read further or else” message inside the cover. Those pages contain 4 years of thoughts and emotions that almost no one has been exposed to; my secret therapist’s office, free of judgment and ridicule. They were mine and mine alone to reflect on.
As I entered my teen years, I took to “live journaling” on Xanga, but still didn’t feel as if my thoughts were public. My username had nothing to do with who I really was. Back then the Internet was a place to play pretend and the fear of revealing true identity was real. Today, most people I know use their full names on EVERYTHING. All of my Facebook friends know my birthday, all of my LinkedIn connections know where I’ve worked, all of my Instagram followers have glimpsed scenes of the inside of my house.
Yes, there's always a privacy option but what I’m saying is what we post directly correlates to how comfortable we are with sharing pieces of ourselves with others, which clearly isn’t a problem for most people. We all want to feel accepted; that what we do and believe matters and the easiest way to do that is to put yourself out there to a broad audience and hope people can relate.
Facebook might be this generation’s soapbox, but I think we are just evolving the way in which we get to know each other. We don’t need gold stars or trophies to feel recognized. A simple Like or Share will do just fine. Hint, hint.
Inspired by my good friend, Neilson Tam