A reply to Mark Zuckerberg's "Privacy-Focused Vision for Social Networking"

Yesterday (March 7), Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg outlined Facebook's new "vision and principles around building a privacy-focused messaging and social networking platform." The essential problem isn't that they need a new app; rather, they need to reform their existing one.

Rather than acknowledging the elephant in the room—that users are deeply incensed that their privacy continues to be systematically sold by Big Tech, that ongoing security issues stem from Facebook's inherent and business-critical data-collection and -sharing practices—Zuckerberg pretends that it's important that he solves, well, a different problem:

But people increasingly also want to connect privately in the digital equivalent of the living room. As I think about the future of the internet, I believe a privacy-focused communications platform will become even more important than today's open platforms. Privacy gives people the freedom to be themselves and connect more naturally, which is why we build social networks.

It is as if Zuckerberg had been reminded one too many times by his advisers that people really do care, after all, about this pesky privacy issue, which once upon a time he could say with impunity was no longer a "social norm." Yeah, so maybe he was wrong. Maybe the perennial demands for a right to privacy are not a changeable social norm, after all. Maybe people really do care about their information being controlled by themselves and not by giant corporations and authorities. Yes, Zuck, well spotted. People do care about privacy after all. But he interpreted the general sentiment in the most naive, simple-minded way, and decided that what people were missing were...private chat rooms.

Because people are really upset that they don't have private chat rooms, apparently. But never fear! Zuck is here to save the day! He'll make chat rooms, and he'll make them really, really private! (Well, not really. Not even that, as we'll see.)

Throughout the 3,200-word piece, there is no explicit acknowledgment that there might be a different way to do more open and public social networking. Nothing about standards and protocols. Nothing about interoperability between independent social media networks.

Zuckerberg also shows no awareness of the real reasons we should care about privacy. No, it's not just about people being free to have intimate conversations. There's much more to it than that. It is ultimately about freedom and autonomy. It's a fundamental right. Like free speech, people who don't understand it or who want to control us are only too happy to make it conditional on their ultimately arbitrary and power-driven decisions.


Zuck makes much of WhatsApp's end-to-end encryption. It is certainly true that private messaging services should have end-to-end encryption built in, and that, no, not even Facebook should be able to listen in on our private conversations: "End-to-end encryption prevents anyone—including us—from seeing what people share on our services." Well spotted, indeed! But as we'll see in a bit, he doesn't really mean it. Are you surprised?

Does Zuckerberg propose privacy improvements to Facebook itself, the public and semi-public service that Facebook has used to exploit us, to its enormous profit? No, not really. Perhaps this is an oblique and hopeful-sounding reference: "Over the next few years, we plan to rebuild more of our services around these ideas." Sure. Maybe you will, if you're still around. We'll believe it when we see it. But of course we shouldn't believe any such oblique promises from an arrogant frat boy who deems his users to be "dumb fucks."

Later in the piece, Zuckerberg tips his hat slightly toward those of us who want to decentralize social media: "End-to-end encryption is an important tool in developing a privacy-focused social network. Encryption is decentralizing—it limits services like ours from seeing the content flowing through them and makes it much harder for anyone else to access your information."

But soon after repeating this tantalizing offer of real end-to-end encryption, Zuckerberg takes it away:

At the same time, there are real safety concerns to address before we can implement end-to-end encryption across all of our messaging services. Encryption is a powerful tool for privacy, but that includes the privacy of people doing bad things. When billions of people use a service to connect, some of them are going to misuse it for truly terrible things like child exploitation, terrorism, and extortion. We have a responsibility to work with law enforcement and to help prevent these wherever we can. We are working to improve our ability to identify and stop bad actors across our apps by detecting patterns of activity or through other means, even when we can't see the content of the messages, and we will continue to invest in this work. But we face an inherent tradeoff because we will never find all of the potential harm we do today when our security systems can see the messages themselves.

People who actually know something about how privacy works and why it's important—you can be one of them, if you read The Art of Invisibility by Kevin Mitnick or Cybersecurity for Beginners by Raef Meeuwisse—will instantly spot a contradiction here. If there is truly end-to-end encryption, then it will be impossible for Facebook "to work with law enforcement and to help prevent these wherever we can." This is why some politicians and governments simply want to outlaw encryption, which would be a giant step toward totalitarianism, and absolutely insane to boot. Maybe we could make this a teachable moment for Zuck: "Look, dude, you can't have it both ways. Either you have end-to-end encryption that the authorities cannot (without superheroic efforts) crack, or you give authorities (and yourselves, and expert hackers) a back door that naturally undermines the real privacy (not to mention security) of your network. You can't have it both ways."

But no—he wants us to believe that we can. And that he believes that we can.

Truly risible.

The hard, cold fact is that, just as whispered conversations conducted far from prying ears and detection technology, in principle, cannot be monitored, so private conversations online, if they are successfully end-to-end encrypted, cannot be monitored...so long as eavesdroppers don't have the private keys, and the private keys are strong enough not to be crackable, and...and...and...

Anyway, Zuckerberg has amply demonstrated that he's learned nothing. Move along, folks—nothing to see here.

The decentralization revolution will proceed as scheduled.


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How to decentralize social media—a brief sketch

The problem about social media is that it is centralized. Centralization empowers massive corporations and governments to steal our privacy and restrict our speech and autonomy.

What should exist are neutral, technical standards and protocols, like the standards and protocols for blogs, email, and the Web. Indeed, many proposed standards already do exist, but none has emerged as a common, dominant standard. Blockchain technology—the technology of decentralization—is perfect for this, but not strictly necessary. Common protocols would enable us to follow public feeds no matter where they are published. We would eventually have our pick of many different apps to view these feeds. We would choose our own terms, not Facebook's or Twitter's, for both publishing and reading.

As things are, if you want to make short public posts to the greatest number of people, you have to go to Twitter, enriching them and letting them monetize your content (and your privacy). Similarly, if you want to make it easy for friends and family to follow your more personal text and other media, you have to go to Facebook. Similarly for various other kinds of content. It just doesn't have to be that way. We could decentralize.

This is a nice dream. But how do we make it happen?

After all, the problem about replacing the giant, abusive social media companies is that you can't replace existing technology without making something so much more awesome that everyone will rush to try it. And the social media giants have zillions of the best programmers in the world. How can we, the little guys, possibly compete?

Well, I've thought of a way the open source software and blockchain communities might actually kick the legs out from under the social media giants. My proposal (briefly sketched) has five parts. The killer feature, which will bring down the giants, is (4):

  1. The open data standards. Create open data standards and protocols, or probably just adopt the best of already-existing ones, for the feeds of posts (and threads, and other data structures) that Twitter, Facebook, etc., uses. I'm not the first to have thought of this; the W3C has worked on the problem. It'd be like RSS, but for various kinds of social media post types.
  2. The publishing/storage platforms. Create reliable ways for people to publish, store, and encrypt (and keep totally secret, if they want) their posts. Such platforms would allow users to control exactly who has access to what content they want to broadcast to the world, and in what form, and they would not have to ask permission from anyone and would not be censorable. (Blockchain companies using IPFS, and in particular Everipedia, could help here and show the way; but any website could publish feeds.)
  3. The feed readers. Just as the RSS standard spawned lots of "reader" and "aggregator" software, so there should be similar feed readers for the various data standards described in (1) and the publishers described in (2). While publishers might have built-in readers (as the social media giants all do), the publishing and reading feature sets need to be kept independent, if you want a completely decentralized system.
  4. The social media browser plugins. Here's the killer feature. Create at least one (could be many competing) browser plugins that enable you to (a) select feeds and then (b) display them alongside a user's Twitter, Facebook, etc., feeds. (This could be an adaptation of Greasemonkey.) In other words, once this feature were available, you could tell your friends: "I'm not on Twitter. But if you want to see my Tweet-like posts appear in your Twitter feed, then simply install this plugin and input my feed address. You'll see my posts pop up just as if they were on Twitter. But they're not! And we can do this because you can control how any website appears to you from your own browser. It's totally legal and it's actually a really good idea." In this way, while you might never look at Twitter or Facebook, you can stay in contact with your friends who are still there—but on your own terms.
  5. The social media feed exporters/APIs. Create easy-to-use software that enables people to publish their Twitter, Facebook, Mastodon, Diaspora, Gab, Minds, etc., feeds via the open data standards. The big social media companies already have APIs, and some of the smaller companies and open projects have standards, but there is no single, common open data standard that everyone uses. That needs to change. If you could publish your Twitter data in terms of such a standard, that would be awesome. Then you could tell your friends: "I'm on Twitter, but I know you're not. You don't have to miss out on my tweets. Just use a tweet reader of your choice (you know—like an old blog/RSS feed reader, but for tweets) and subscribe to my username!

The one-two punch here is the combination of points (1) and (4): First, we get behind decentralized, common social media standards and protocols, and then we use those standards when building plugins that let our friends, who are still using Facebook and Twitter (etc.), see posts that we put on websites like Steemit, Minds, Gab, and Bitchute (not to mention coming Everipedia Network dapps).

The exciting thing about this plan is that no critical mass seems to be needed in order to get people to install the envisioned plugin. All you need is one friend whose short posts you want to see in your Twitter feed, and you might install a plugin that lets you do that. As more and more people do this, there should be a snowball effect. Thus, even a relatively small amount of adoption should create a movement toward decentralization. And then the days of centralized social media will be numbered. We'll look back on the early days of Facebook and Twitter (and YouTube!) as we now do the Robber Barons.

We can look at a later iteration of Everipedia itself as an example. Right now, there is one centralized encyclopedia: Wikipedia. With the Everipedia Network, there will be a protocol that will enable people from all over the web to participate in a much broader project.

I would love to see the various competitors of the social media giants settle on a common standard and otherwise join forces on these sorts of projects. If they do, it will happen, and the days of privacy-stealing, centralized, controlling, Big Brother social media will soon be behind us. We'll return to the superior and individually empowering spirit of the original Internet.

We have to do this, people. This is the future of the Internet. Even if you've given up social media, we should build this for our friends and family who are still toiling in the digital plantations.


My Facebook #DeletionDay goodbye message

Here's what I posted as my last long message to Facebook.


Folks, as previously announced, tomorrow will be my #DeletionDay for Facebook. It'll be the last day I'll post here, and I'll begin the process for the permanent removal of my account. (Among other things, I'll make a copy of my data and my friends list.) I'm sorry to those who want me to stay, but there are too many reasons to quit.

Let me explain again, more tersely, why I'm quitting.

You probably already know that I think this kind of social media, as fun as it undoubtedly can be, undermines relationships, wastes our time, and distracts us. I also agree, as one guy can be seen saying on virally-shared videos, that social media is particularly bad for kids. All I can say is, it's just sad that all that hasn't been enough for me (and most of us) to quit.

But in 2018, it became all too clear that Big Tech—which is now most definitely a thing—is cynically and strongly committed to using social media as a potent tool of political control, which it certainly is. They like having that power. For companies like Google, Facebook, and Apple, reining in wrongthink is a moral imperative. And they're doing the bidding of the Establishment when they do so. It's very scary, I think.

The only thing that gives them this awesome power over us and our free, voluntary conversations is that we have given them that power. But notice the thing that empowers them: we give them our data to manage. It's not really ours. They take it, sell it to advertisers, repackage it, and show it back to us in ways they control. And they can silence us if they like. That's because we have sold our privacy to them for convenience and fun. We're all what Nick Carr aptly called "digital sharecroppers." I now think it's a terrible deal. It's still voluntary, thank goodness; so I'm opting out.

Another thing is that I started reading a book called Cybersecurity for Beginners (no, I'm not too proud to read a book called that) by Raef Meeuwisse, after my phone (and Google account and Coinbase) were hacked. This finally opened my eyes to the very close connection between privacy and security. Meeuwisse explains that information security has become much more complex than it was in the past, what with multiple logins, multiple (interconnected) devices, multiple (interconnected) cloud services, and in short multiple potential points of failure in multiple layers.

[Adding now: Someone recommended, and I bought and started reading, another good privacy book called The Art of Invisibility by Kevin Mitnick. Mitnick is a famous hacker. Meeuwisse is a security professional as well. The Mitnick book is much more readable for savvy Internet users, while the Meeuwisse book is a bit drier and might be more of a good introduction to the field of information security for managers.]

The root cause of the increased security risks, as I see it (as Meeuwisse helped me to see), is our tendency to trust our data to more and more centralizing organizations (like Facebook, Microsoft, and Apple). This means we trust them not only to control our data to our benefit, but also to get security right. But they can't be expected to get security right precisely because social media and cloud services depend on their ability to access our data. If you want robust security, you must demand absolute privacy. That means that only you own and control your data.

If we were the gatekeepers of our own data (if it were delivered out of our own clouds, via decentralized feeds we control, as open source software and blockchains support), then we wouldn't have nearly so many problems.

Maybe even more fundamental is that there are significant risks—personal, social, and political—to letting corporations (or governments) collectivize us. But precisely that is what has been going on over the last ten years or so.

It's time for us to work a new technological revolution and decentralize, or decollectivize, ourselves. One reason I love working for a blockchain company is that we're philosophically committed to the idea of decentralization, of personal autonomy. But it's still early days for both open source software and blockchain. Much remains to be done to make this technology usable to grandma.

While we're waiting for viable (usable) new solutions, I think the first step is to lock down your cyber-life and help create demand by just getting rid of things like Facebook. You don't have to completely unplug from everything; you have to be hardcore or extreme about your privacy (although I think that's a good idea). You can do what you can, what you're able to do.

I won't blame or think ill of you if you stay on Facebook. I'm just trying to explain why I'm leaving. And I guess I am encouraging you to really start boning up on digital hygiene.

Below, I'm going to link to a series of relevant blog posts that you can explore if you want to follow me out, or just to start thinking more about this stuff.

Also, I hope you'll subscribe yourself to my personal mailing list, which I'll start using more regularly tomorrow. By the way, if you might be interested in some other, more specialized list that I might start based on my interests (such as Everipedia, education, libertarianism, or whatever), please join the big list.

Also note, especially if your email is from Gmail, you will have to check your spam folder for the confirmation mail, if you want to be added. Please move any mails from me and my list out of your spam (or junk) folder into your inbox so Google learns I'm actually not a spammer. :-)


There, that's me being "terse."


Why I quit Quora and Medium for good

It's not a temporary rage-quit; I've deleted both accounts. I have zero followers, no content, and no username. I'm outta there.

This is going to be more interesting than it sounds, I promise.

When I first joined Quora in 2011, I loved it, with a few small reservations. Then, after some run-ins with what I regarded as unreasonable moderation, I started to dislike it; I even temporarily quit in 2015. Then the events of 2018 gave me a new perspective on social media in general. I re-evaluated Quora again, and found it wanting. So I deleted my account today, for good. All my followers and articles are gone.

I went through a similar process with Medium two weeks ago.

Why? Glad you asked.

Digital sharecropping

Until maybe 2012 or so, if you had asked me, I would have said that I am a confirmed and fairly strict open source/open content/open data guy, and the idea of people happily developing content, without a financial or ownership stake, to benefit a for-profit enterprise had always bothered me. It bothered me in 2000 when Jimmy Wales said the job he hired me for—to start a new encyclopedia—would involve asking volunteers to developed free content hosted by a for-profit company (Bomis). I was happy when, in 2003, the Bomis principals gave Wikipedia to a non-profit.

(Ironically, not to mention stupidly, in 2011 Jimmy Wales tried to blame me for Bomis' original for-profit, ad-based business model. Unfortunately for his lie, I was able to find evidence that, in fact, it had been his idea.)

In 2006, technology journalist Nicholas Carr coined the phrase "digital sharecropping", saying that "Web 2.0,"

by putting the means of production into the hands of the masses but withholding from those same masses any ownership over the product of their work, provides an incredibly efficient mechanism to harvest the economic value of the free labor provided by the very many and concentrate it into the hands of the very few.

This bothers me. I'm a libertarian and I support capitalism, but the moral recommendability of building a business on the shoulders of well-meaning volunteers and people merely looking to socialize online struck me, as it did Carr, as very questionable. I even remember writing an old blog post (can't find it anymore) in which I argued, only half-seriously, that this practice is really indefensible, particularly if users don't have a governance stake.

The moral recommendability of building a business on the shoulders of well-meaning volunteers and people merely looking to socialize online struck me as very questionable.

The rise of social media, and joining Quora and Medium

By 2010, despite having been an active Internet user for over 15 years, my perspective started changing. I didn't really begrudge Facebook, Twitter, or YouTube their profits anymore. The old argument that they are providing a useful service that deserves compensation—while still a bit questionable to me—made some sense. As to the rather obvious privacy worries, at that stage they were mainly just worries. Sure, I knew (as we all did) that we were trusting Facebook with relatively sensitive data. I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. (That sure changed.)

If you were plugged in back then, you regularly joined new communities that seemed interesting and happening. Quora was one; I joined it in 2011. It struck me as a somewhat modernized version of the old discussion communities we had in the 1990s—Usenet and mailing lists—but, in some ways, even better. There was very lightweight moderation, which actually seemed to work. A few years later I joined Medium, and as with Quora, I don't think I ever heard from their moderators in the first few years. If I did, I was willing to admit that maybe I had put a toe over the line.

Within a few days, Quora actually posted a question for me to answer: "What does Larry Sanger think about Quora?" Here is my answer in full (which I've deleted from Quora along with all my other answers):

Uhh...I didn't ask this.  It's a bit like fishing for compliments, eh Quora team? But that's OK, I am happy to compliment Quora on making a very interesting, engaging website.

Quora is pretty interesting. It appeals to me because there are a lot of people here earnestly reflecting--this I think must be partly due to good habits started by the first participants, but also because the question + multiple competing answers that mostly do not respond to each other means there is more opportunity for straightforward reflection and less for the usual bickering that happens in most Internet communities.

A long time ago (I'm sure one could find this online somewhere, if one looked hard enough) I was musing that it's odd that mailing lists are not used in more ways than they are. It seemed to me that one could use mailing list software to play all sorts of "conversation games," and I didn't know why people didn't set up different sorts of rule systems for different kinds of games.

What impresses me about Quora is that it seems to be a completely new species of conversation game.  Perhaps it's not entirely new, because it's somewhat similar to Yahoo! Answers, but there aren't as many yahoos on Quora, for whatever reason, and other differences are important.  Quora's model simply works better.  Quora users care about quality, and being deep, and Yahoo! Answerers generally do not.  I wonder why that is.

But unlike Yahoo! Answers, Quora doesn't seem to be used very much for getting factual information. Quora users are more interested in opinionizing about broad, often philosophical questions, which I find charming and refreshing. But for this reason, it's not really a competitor of Wikipedia or Yahoo! Answers (or Citizendium...). It's competing with forums.

I think it needs some more organizational tools, tools that make it less likely that good questions and answers aren't simply forgotten or lost track of. Or maybe there already are such tools and I don't know about them.

As I re-read this, some points have taken on a new meaning. I chalked up Quora's failure to provide more robust search tools to it being at a relatively early stage (it was started in two years earlier by a former Facebook CTO), and the ordinary sort of founder stubbornness, in which the founders have a vision of how a web app should work, and as a result don't give the people what they actually want. I see now that they had already started to execute a new approach to running a website that I just didn't recognize at the time. It was (and is) very deliberately heavy-handed and top-down, like Facebook. They let you see what they want you to see. They try to "tailor" the user experience. And clearly, they do this not to satisfy explicit user preferences. They don't care much about user autonomy. Their aim is apparently to keep users on the site, to keep them adding content. If you choose to join, you become a part of their well-oiled, centrally managed machine.

Quora and Medium, like Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube, make it really hard for you to use their sites on your own terms, with your own preferences. You're led by the hand and kept inside the rails. Before around 2008, nobody could imagine making a website like that. Well, they existed, but they were for children and corporations.

I could see this, of course. But all the big social media sites were the same way. I guess I tolerated what looked like an inevitable takeover of the once-decentralized Internet by a more corporate mindset. I suppose I hoped that this mindset wouldn't simply ruin things. By 2012, I was already deeply suspicious of how things were turning out.

But now it's just blindingly obvious to me that the Silicon Valley elite have ruined the Internet.

Increasingly heavy-handed and ideological "moderation"

Maybe the first or second times I heard from Quora's moderation team, I was merely annoyed, but I still respected their attempts to keep everything polite. I thought that was probably all it was. That's what moderation used to be, anyway, back when we did it in the 90s and 00s. But I noticed that Quora's moderation was done in-house. That struck me as being, well, a little funny. There was something definitely off about it. Why didn't they set some rules and set up a fair system in which the community effectively self-moderated? They obviously had decent coders and designers who could craft a good community moderation system. But they didn't...

I see now only too well that the reason was that they wanted moderation to be kept in house, and not just because it was important to get right; it was because they wanted to exert editorial control. At first, it seemed that they had business reasons for this, which I thought was OK, maybe. But as time went on and as I got more moderation notices for perfectly fair questions and polite comments, it became clear that Quora's moderation practices weren't guided merely by the desire to keep the community pleasant for a wide cross-section of contributors. They were clearly enforcing ideological conformity. This got steadily worse and worse, in my experience, until I temporarily quit Quora in 2015, and I never did contribute as much after that.

Similarly, Medium's moderators rarely if ever bothered me, until they took down a rather harsh comment I made to a pedophile who was defending pedophilia. (He was complaining about an article I wrote explaining why pedophilia is wrong. I also wrote an article about why murder is wrong.) I hadn't been sufficiently polite to the pedophile, it seems. So, with only the slenderest explanations, Medium simply removed my comment. That's what caused me to delete my Medium account.

They don't care much about user autonomy. Their aim is apparently to keep users on the site, to keep them adding content. If you choose to join, you become a part of their well-oiled, centrally managed machine.

You don't have to agree with my politics to agree that there is a problem here. My objection is not just about fairness; it's about control. It's about the audacity of a company, which is profiting from my unpaid content, also presuming to control me, and often without explaining their rather stupid decisions. It's also not about the necessity of moderation. I've been a moderator many times in the last 25 years, and frankly, Internet communities suck if they don't have some sort of moderation mechanism. But when they start moderating in what seems to be an arbitrary and ideological way, when it's done in-house in a wholly opaque way, that's just not right. Bad moderation used to kill groups. People would leave badly-moderated groups in droves.

Lack of intellectual diversity in the community

Being on the web and not artificially restricted by nationality, Quora and Medium do, of course, a global user base. But they are single communities. And they're huge; they're both in the top 250. So whatever answer most users vote up (as filtered by Quora's secret and ever-changing sorting algorithm), and whoever is most popular with other Quora voters, tends to be shown higher.

Unsurprisingly—this was plainly evident back in 2011—Quora's community is left-leaning. Medium is similar. That's because, on average, intellectual Internet writers are left-leaning. I didn't really have a problem with that, and I wouldn't still, if we hadn't gotten absolutely stunning and clear evidence in 2018 that multiple large Internet corporations openly and unashamedly use their platforms to put their thumbs on the scales. They simply can't be trusted as fair, unbiased moderators, particularly when their answer ranking algorithms and the moderation policies and practices are so opaque.

In addition, a company like Quora should notice that different cultures have totally different ways of answering life's big questions. The differences are fascinating, too. By lumping us all together, regardless of nationality, religion, politics, gender, and other features, we actually miss out on the full variety of human experience. If the Quora community's dominant views aren't copacetic to you, you'll mostly find yourself in the cold, badly represented and hard to find.

Silicon Valley, your experiment is over

Look. Quora, like Medium, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and others, have been outed as shamelessly self-dealing corporations. It's gone way beyond "digital sharecropping." The problem I and many others have with these companies isn't just that they are profiting from our unpaid contributions. It's that they have become ridiculously arrogant and think they can attempt to control and restrict our user experience and our right to speak our minds under fair, reasonable, and transparent moderation systems. And while the privacy issues that Quora or Medium have aren't as profound as for Facebook, they are there, and they come from the same controlling corporate mindset.

So that's why I've quit Quora and Medium for good. I hope that also sheds more light on why I'm leaving Facebook and changing how I use Twitter.

As if to confirm me in my decision, Quora doesn't supply any tools for exporting all your answers from the site. You have to use third-party tools (I used this). And after I deleted my account (which I did just now), I noticed that my account page and all my answers were still there. The bastards force you to accept a two-week "grace period," in case you change your mind. What if I don't want them to show my content anymore, now? Too bad. You have to let them continue to earn money from your content for two more weeks.

Clearly, they aren't serving you; you're serving them.

We've been in an experiment. Many of us were willing to let Internet communities be centralized in the hands of big Silicon Valley corporations. Maybe it'll be OK, we thought. Maybe the concentration of money and power will result in some really cool new stuff that the older, more decentralized Internet couldn't deliver. Maybe they won't mess it up, and try to exert too much control, and abuse our privacy. Sure! Maybe!

The experiment was a failure. We can't trust big companies, working for their own profit, to make good decisions for large, online communities. The entire industry has earned and richly deserves our distrust and indignation.

So, back to the drawing board. Maybe we'll do better with the next, more robustly decentralized and democratic phase of the Internet: blockchain.

We'll get this right eventually, or die trying. After all, it might take a while.

We've been in an experiment. Many of us were willing to let Internet communities be centralized in the hands of big Silicon Valley corporations. Maybe it'll be OK, we thought. ...

The experiment was a failure.


How to stop using social media

Updated January 28, 2019.

It's no longer a matter of whether—it's a matter of how.

It's sad, but for social media addicts, quitting seems to require a strategy. By now, some of us who have tried and failed know that it is simply unrealistic to say, "I'm going to quit social media," and then just do it. There are reasons we got into it and why it exerts its pull. We must come to grips with those reasons and see what—if anything—we can do to mitigate them.

Why we participate in social media, and why we shouldn't

We participate in social media because we love it; but we want to quit, because we also hate it.

Why we love social media

  1. Social visibility. Active users of social media want social visibility. We want to be understood. We want to be connected with others who understand us, respect us, or like us.
  2. Staying plugged in. So much of social and political life seems to have moved onto social media, we simply won't know what's going on if we quit.
  3. Political influence. Unless we have entirely given up on political participation, we want to "have a voice," to play the game of politics.
  4. Ambition and narcissism. Quite apart from 1 and 2, we are drawn to platforms particularly like Twitter and LinkedIn because we think these accounts will advance our careers. We follow and are followed by Important People, we stay in touch with them. This is where valuable connections and deals can be made.
  5. Staying connected to family and friends. Golly, your family and friends are on Facebook. You really do have fun with them. How could you give it up, even if you wanted to? You don't want to miss out, of course.

We've tasted the forbidden fruit. We surely aren't giving up the clear advantages that social media offer. That ain't gonna happen.

The fear of missing out—that lies at the root of all five reasons. If you leave any of the networks, you just won't be seen. It'll be like you're invisible. If you leave Twitter, you won't really know what's going on in the world's most influential news and opinion network, and you will be leaving the field wide open to your political enemies. If you leave Twitter and LinkedIn, your career might take a blow; how could you possibly justify just giving up all those followers you worked so hard to get? And if you leave Facebook, you might be cutting yourself off from your family and friends—how could you do such a thing?

So, look. We've tasted the forbidden fruit. We surely aren't giving up the clear advantages that social media offer. That ain't gonna happen.

And yet, and yet. There are reasons we should stop participating in the current configuration of social media. I've written at some length in this blog about those reasons, as follows.

Why we hate social media:

  • We're giving up our privacy and autonomy: By leaving the management of our online social presence in the hands of giant, privacy-disrespecting corporations, our information, even our digital lives, becomes theirs to sell, manipulate, and destroy. We must trust them with the security of our data, which is thrown in with that of billions of others. We must endure the indignities of their control, and the various little ways in which we lose our autonomy because we are part of a giant, well-oiled machine that they run. This is dehumanizing.
  • We're irrationally wasting time: Like most mass-produced, mass-marketed entertainment, social media is mostly crap. Too many of us are basically addicted to it; our continued participation, at least the way we have been doing so, is simply irrational.
  • We're complicit in the dumbing-down and radicalization of society (see also 1, 2, 3, 4). Nick Carr famously said in 2008 that Google is making us stupid. Since then, social media systems have blown up and have made us even dumber. Their key features are responsible for things like (especially) artificially shortened statements of opinion and reflection, having to take special actions to write more than one paragraph, all-or-nothing "upvoting" and "downvoting," and letting posts fall into a hard-to-search memory hole.

What a horrible conundrum. On the one hand, we have terrifically compelling reasons to join and stay connected to social media. On the other hand, doing so shows contempt for our own privacy, autonomy, and rationality, and undermines the intelligence and toleration needed to make democracy work. It is as if the heavy, compelling hand of corporate-driven collectivization is pushing us toward an increasingly totalitarian society.

So what's the solution? Is there a solution?

Non-solutions

Let's talk about a few things that aren't solutions.

You can't just quit cold turkey, not without a plan. If you've been hooked and you try, you'll probably come crawling back, as I have a few times. I'm not saying nobody has ever done so; of course they have. But so many people who say they're giving up or restricting social media do end up coming back, because the draws are tremendous, and the addicts aren't getting their fix elsewhere.

You can't expect "alt-tech" to satisfy you, either. This would include things like Gab.ai instead of Twitter or Facebook, just for example; other examples would include Voat instead of Reddit, BitChute instead of YouTube, Minds instead of Facebook, and the Mastodon network instead of Twitter. For one thing, some (not all) of the alternatives have been flooded by loud, persistent racist/fascist types, or maybe they're just people paid by the tech giants to play-act such types on those platforms. More to the point, though, such sites don't scratch the itches that Facebook and Twitter scratch. At best, they can appeal to your narcissism and provide some social visibility; but this isn't enough for most people. They're not happenin' (yet); they almost certainly won't help your career.

What about blockchain solutions? I, at least, am not satisfied to wait around for awesome crypto solutions, like Steemit, to grow large enough to challenge their main competitors (Medium, in that case). I mean, I probably will join them when more influential and widely-used decentralized platforms show up. The startup I joined a year ago, Everipedia, has plans to develop a platform for hosting a decentralized competitor of Quora. That's exciting. But I want to quit these damn networks now. I don't want to wait any longer.

Even if those are non-solutions, we do, at least, have the requirements for a solution: we want to secure the advantages of the first list above (1)‑(5) without falling prey to the disadvantages of second list (a)‑(c).

The advantages of social media—without social media?

Let's review (1)-(5). I think there may be ways to secure the advantages of privacy-stealing social media. I would really, really appreciate it if you have any other bright ideas about how to secure these advantages, because this is where the rubber meets the road; please share in the comments below.

  1. Social visibility without social media. Social visibility is probably the easiest thing to secure online. If you just want to connect with others and feel heard, there are lots of ways you can do that. So I'm not going to worry too much about that one; I think it will probably take care of itself, if the other advantages are secured.
  2. Staying plugged in without social media. Staying plugged in, too, is very easy. You can simply consume more traditional media, for one thing. Another idea is that you could create throw-away accounts on Twitter or Facebook, for example, and follow the people you were following before. As long as you, yourself, don't actually participate, then you're still more or less as plugged-in as before. But one big disadvantage of that idea is that you might be tempted to get back in because it's just so darned easy to interact with friends and family on Facebook, and to call out or refute the benighted on Twitter. But if you don't use Facebook at all, even to read, you can always stay in touch via email, especially if you use old-fashioned cc email groups or email lists, and you use it, and you manage to get your friends to use it. If you get into the habit, I think they'll get into the habit, too. It is mainly just a matter of habit.
  3. Political influence without social media. Twitter plays an almost unique role in our political discourse, and there is no way to make up the influence you'd have over that community, if you leave it. The question, however, is whether your participation on Twitter really does have that much influence. If it does, then you probably have other ways to get the word out. I have 3,000 followers, which despite being a high percentile but not especially influential. I could throw that away without much hand-wringing. After all, I could easily put in the same amount of time on my blog, or on mailing lists (i.e., listservs), or writing for publication (which I might do more of, but it's kind of a pain in the ass), and I think I might ultimately have more influence, not less. But more on this further down (you can use Twitter in a particular way that I think is OK).
  4. Ambition and narcissism without social media. I don't mean to say that narcissism is a good thing, mind you. I hope I don't much too care about securing the ability to preen more effectively in public. But I have gained a reasonable professional following on Twitter and LinkedIn, and a smaller one on Facebook (mostly because I've mostly used it for actual friends and family). When I came back from my September-October 2018 social media break, I told folks it was because of professional obligations. I thought I would Tweet less, and only about career stuff. But I wasn't serious enough. I was sucked into all the rest of it, too. I can only hope I'd be able to resist the pull. And I can support my "personal brand" (really, my professional brand) via my blog, writing for publication, and perhaps a mailing list; the latter sounds like a good idea (expect an Everipedia email discussion list!). Another idea is to post to Twitter only via some service, and never, ever replying on-site, but instead telling people to look for my replies on my blog.
  5. Staying connected to family and friends without social media. This also strikes me as being particularly easy. I know that my family and my real friends will be happy to write to me by email if I start writing to them, especially if I get into the habit of using email cc lists and maybe, again, mailing lists. We could also use other networks or sharing services that (say they) have more commitment to privacy and self-ownership.

So much for the suggestions. I haven't really discussed whether they're actually feasible qua solutions, so next I'll tackle that.

Evaluating the solutions

A lot of the solutions suggested so far might sound like "rolling back" to older technologies. There's something to that; but I'll also consider some other, privacy-respecting solutions. Besides, the older technologies are still very sound, and the newer social ones that have replaced them are obviously problematic in various ways.

Consuming more traditional media

Like many, as I started spending more time on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube, I started spending less time consuming professionally-produced content. Maybe, the suggestion goes, we should just regard this as something of a mistake. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm a crowdsourcing guy at heart and I hold no brief for the merits of traditional media, especially mainstream media. But insofar as one of the purposes of social media is to clue us in to what's going on, news reports and good blogs can be used. They probably should be, too; when I started Infobitt in 2013, one thing that really struck me was how poorly informed we would be if we just looked at the stuff that came across our social media feeds. I discovered this when I helped to prepare news summaries daily. There were a lot of important news stories that we found that were not widely discussed in social media, or even in most of the mainstream media. You'll probably be better informed if you stop using social media to keep up with the news; of course, your mileage may vary.

Going back to email, cc lists, and listservs

There are many social functions that social media can do, that email and traditional email discussion lists can't, or not as easily. But many of these functions have turned out to be unimportant and not worth preserving.

  • Short public and semi-public back-and-forths. Facebook and Twitter both excel at a kind of communication that is pleasant and easy, usually banal, and rarely profound. If you're actively using these services and occasionally get into rapid-fire discussions about some controversial subject, ask yourself: Is anyone really improved by these exchanges? Again, they're fun. They're hard for me to resist, that's for sure. But when I take a step back and look at them, I have to admit that short messages might be good for marketing, but as a method of public discourse, they're an ultimately insidious and harmful. Advantage: email.
  • Registering instant support or other reaction. If you ask me, this is one of the more obnoxious features of social media, one that addicts us but for no good reason; it merely appeals to our petty egos. There's little useful information conveyed by the fact that a tweet or a post gets a lot of likes, and this also tends to make us "play to the crowd" instead of revealing our most authentic selves. Advantage: email.
  • Memes. They're possible on email, but there's more support for them on social media. They can be funny or rhetorically effective, but they're one of the things that is making us dumber and coarsening our discourse. They're better off gone. Advantage: email.
  • Sharing multimedia. It's true that pictures and especially videos are more difficult to pull off in email and even more so on listservs. Video is neat to share with friends. If I could trust Facebook, I'd be happy to share family videos with family and close friends—I've never been foolish enough to trust them that much. And email has nothing on YouTube. That's why I actually haven't shown my extended family many pictures in the last several years; regrettably, I got out of the habit of one-on-one sharing. Other (and perhaps ultimately superior) methods of sharing multimedia socially among those we trust might be necessary. Advantage: social media.

There are many social functions that social media can do, that email and traditional email discussion lists can't, or not as easily. But many of these functions have turned out to be unimportant and not worth preserving.

And here are the ways in which email, email cc lists, and listservs are perfectly fine, if not superior to social media:

  • Actually communicating personal news and opinion. The main and most important thing we do with Facebook is to share news and opinion. Email is perfect for this. It's a "push" notification in that people can't ignore it. But that pressures the sender to make sure the announcements really are important and aren't just cat pictures, or whatever. (Yes, I know some people love cat pictures. Mostly, though, they love sharing their own cat pictures.)
  • Long-form messages. As my friends know, I sometimes like to go on...and on...and on. This isn't a bad thing. Long-form text is a good thing, a necessary thing for actual intelligence. The ability to easily have our say at a length as great as we please means that those of us with more complex and voluminous thoughts on a subject won't feel we're doing something frowned-upon when we wax, er, eloquent.
  • Threading. Email (whether one-on-one, in small groups, or on a listserv) naturally comes in threads by subject. If you change the subject, you change the email subject line. Easy-peasy, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. As to side-threads, in a whole-group discussion, remember how we did this? We said, "Take it off-list, guys." Sometimes, we did. Sometimes, we recognized that it wasn't worth the bother. And a lot of times, those endless public exhibitions of rhetorical ping-pong really weren't worth the bother.

I'm not meaning to say that we must choose between email and social media, here. I'm saying that email (and listservs) can probably be considered a sound substitute for social media. There are other possible substitutes, too.

Blogs and traditional publishing

I've created a fair bit of value, I imagine, for Quora, Medium, Facebook, and even Twitter, with various long-form posts. I know that what I've written has given them well northwards of a million impressions over the years (I think several million), free of charge. I could have put those posts on my blog, or in some cases cleaned them up a little and submitted them to professionally published websites and magazines. Why did I end up spending so much time on Quora and Medium in particular? (By the way, as of this writing, I've saved my old Medium writings and I have deleted my Medium account. I will do the same with Quora soon.)

In the case of Quora, I joined because it looked like (and was, surely, and to some extent still is) a powerful and successful engine for extracting really interesting opinion and insight from some smart people. My problem with it is the same as the problem I've had with Medium. It's a multi-part problem. First, over the years, the platforms have grown greatly, each a single enormous global community. (Federated sub-communities a la Stack Exchange would be better.) Second, partly as a result of that, they have come to be increasingly dominated by the left. As my regular readers know, I'm a libertarian and an individualist, but all groupthink I find to be a turn-off, especially when my contrarianism is no longer tolerated. Third, the left has become increasingly censorious. I've found my sometimes prickly remarks, once accepted without comment, increasingly censored by "moderators" who rarely explain their often arbitrary-seeming decisions, unlike the more honest and polite older-style listserv moderators.

While censorship is part of the problem I have with these platforms, another part is the fact that I am writing to financially benefit people who set themselves up as my digital masters. This was acceptable to me for a while, as it has been to many of us—mostly, I suppose, because I think it might have gained me a larger and more active audience. In retrospect, however, I'm not so sure. I think that if I had simply stuck with my blog and had written as much there as on Quora and Medium, I would have ultimately had a larger and higher-quality audience.

If I have an important message that I really want to get out there, then I hope I'll try to get it traditionally published more often than I have been.

Will I ditch all social networks? What about alternative social networks?

The big exception will be Twitter; more on that in the next section.

There are some social networks I won't leave. One is Stack Overflow, the question and answer site for programmers. As far as I can tell, it really does seem to respect its audience and to be well-run. I might well be inspired to check out the other Stack Exchange sites. I'll stick around on Reddit for a while, too, at least for work-related stuff. It seems relatively OK.

Messaging services are generally OK—but that, of course, is because you're not the product. I hate Facebook, so I'll stick around on Messenger only as long as my work colleagues use it. I'll tell my friends and family to start using other services, like Slack or the awesome Telegram, if they want to message me. (Of course, good old text messaging is usually my favorite for people who have my phone number, but that's for things that demand an immediate reply.)

I certainly see no reason whatsoever to leave any of the web forums that I occasionally frequent. Web forums are still robust and have few of the problems listed here. I'll consider them over mailing lists, but I think mailing lists are a bit better for meaningful discussions.

I might well consider some alternative networks that respect privacy and practice decentralization more (I intend to study them more; see below). One is Mastodon; another is MeWe. I have great objection to such networks. The problem, as I said above, is that they don't scratch the itch. The root problem is that they don't have critical mass and I can't guarantee that my friends and acquaintances will follow me there. Email is different: everyone has it, everyone uses it.

Even quit Twitter?

After much soul-searching, I decided to keep using Twitter, but only following one strict rule about how I use it: I will not post, retweet, respond to, or like anything else, including my many pet topics, unless I'm promoting something I or a work colleague has written.

I'll just include a Twitter thread I posted:

https://twitter.com/lsanger/status/1089940575946723328

Do I merely want to roll back the clock?

Traditional media, email, listservs, and blogs: Are those really my answer to social media? Do I want to roll back the clock?

At this point, my honest answer is: Not really. I'm actually reluctant to leave social media, because what used to be called "Web 2.0" really does contain some useful inventions. The tweet is excellent for advertising and promotion. Multimedia sharing on YouTube, Facebook, and (if you use it much—I never did) Instagram is very convenient. The moderation engine on StackExchange sites is excellent. I might be able to get behind some variant on the general Facebook theme. I'm very sympathetic to some newer styles of social networks.

Centralization is what we got. That led directly to decisions that degraded our experience in the service of profits and political influence. The centralization of social media has proven to be a blind alley. It's time to turn around and find a new way forward.

It will prove to be the downfall of all of the older, soon-to-be-dying social media giants that, at root, they chose centralization over neutral protocols. They chose to concentrate power in the hands of corporate executives and bureaucracies. That is neither needed nor welcome for purposes of connecting us online; once we knew what we wanted, Internet protocols could have been invented to deliver them to us in a decentralized way. But that would have made the platforms much less profitable. Centralization is what we got. That led directly to decisions that degraded our experience in the service of profits and political influence. The centralization of social media has proven to be a blind alley. It's time to turn around and find a new way forward.

Do I want to stick with email and the rest forever? Of course not. I've had (and often proposed) all sorts of new technologies. I think we need decentralized versions of social media, in which we participate on our own terms and enjoy the benefits of ownership. That would bring me back.

But...but...but...what about...?

We've already discussed these things, but you didn't believe me the first time. Let's review:

  • What about my followers? If you have a certain number of followers on Twitter, you will probably have a following on most other services proportionate to your Twitter percentile. If you have thousands of followers on Twitter, chances are you could start an email discussion list and, particularly if you loudly announced over a period of some weeks that you are going to leave Twitter forever and delete your account on such-and-such a date, you'll get a fair number of your followers to join you on that mailing list. You might, perhaps, get them to follow you to another social network, but this is much more of a crapshoot, as far as I'm concerned. Again, everyone has email, but almost nobody is on whatever also-ran privacy-loving social network you're considering.
  • What about missing out on all the essential controversies that are going on on Twitter? Think now. How essential are they, really? Most of those conversations are merely pleasant, and frequently insipid, crappy, or vicious. You might as well wring your hands because you'll miss out of an important article in the New York Times because you don't read it cover-to-cover, or because you don't attend every professional conference in your field, or a zillion other venues. Of course you're missing out. You can't avoid missing out all sorts of things. Here's a liberating thought: you really aren't missing out on much that is really important, in the long run, if you leave Twitter (and Facebook). Your mileage may vary, but I'm pretty sure this is true for 95% of us. It's certainly true for me.
  • What if my family and friends stay on Facebook, and my work colleagues stay on Twitter, and... And what? Finish the thought. You can't, in any way that should give you pause. Share a picture? Look, you can and should start sharing pictures and videos privately. There are lots of ways (even fairly simple, automatic, and secure ways) to do that. Learn the latest gossip? Well, use email. Anyone close enough to have gossip you have any business caring about will be happy to chat one with you (and maybe an ad hoc group of your close friends) if you start it up and keep up the habit. And say something that is outrageously false and cannot stand? Well, of course you know that's just silly. There are people saying stupid things all around the Internet. Sorry, but you have no way of intervening with your righteous indignation everywhere. So, why not do it in communities that respect your privacy? Maybe ones you make yourself?
  • OK, what if they don't follow me to email or whatever? What, you're going to email your family and friends, and they know you've left Facebook, and they won't reply? Nice family and friends you have...I think mine will respond fine as long as I start the habit.

It's OK. Really. Just remember: Facebook and Twitter really, actually, sincerely do suck. You're not missing out on anything important, especially if you scratch the itches that they scratch in other ways.

So what will the next steps? Should I just, you know, delete my account?

If you, too, find yourself wanting to quit social media, maybe you'll be asking me for advice on how to do it. Well, I can't do better than tell you what my plans are. Obviously, though, your requirements are different from mine, so you should make your own damn plans.

I'm not saying I'm definitely going to do all of these, in just this order; this is more of a draft plan. The first step in every case is to figure out exactly what's going on and think it through. I'm also pretty sure that locking down my contacts is the first thing to do.

  1. Lock down my contacts. Since so much of the solution (for me) involves email, my first step will be to consolidate my email and phone contacts, putting them 100% out of the hands of Microsoft, Google, and Apple. Frankly, I've left my contacts to the tender mercies of these companies for so long that the data formats and redundancies and locations (etc.) confuse me.
  2. Email updates for family. Start regularly interacting with my family more regularly with a cc list and texts, or maybe I'll persuade them to use Telegram. Not like formal Christmas letters; more like the usual joking, self-pitying, and boastful notes we post on Facebook.
  3. Replace Facebook and Twitter conversational patterns and groups with specific email lists or maybe forums. Create some email cc lists or listservs, for friends, for cultural/philosophical allies, about Internet and programming, a replacement for the "Fans of Western Civilization" group I started, and no doubt a big list for all my acquaintances. Others as well. I'm going to look into and see if there aren't some improvements on the old ways of doing things available now. I might install some web forums, as I tried a year or two ago, but I doubt it. I don't think they'd get nearly as much use as email.
  4. Pull the trigger: delete my Facebook and Twitter accounts. I'll download all my data first, for posterity. I'll also give my Facebook friends my coordinates for the various lists (above) that might interest them. I'll leave my account up for a couple weeks, making regular announcements that I'm leaving and urging people to join my lists (or, if I use another technology, whatever that technology is).
  5. Move Medium, Quora, and maybe Facebook data to my blog. This could prove to be labor-intensive, but it'll eventually get done.
  6. Delete Medium (done) and Quora accounts. Won't be sorry to be gone from there. For me, anyway, this is a long-overdue move.

It's OK. Really. Just remember: Facebook and Twitter really, actually, sincerely do suck. You're not missing out on anything important, especially if you scratch the itches that they scratch in other ways.

When is deletion day for you?

I will actually press the delete buttons on February 18, about a month from now. I'll update this blog with specifics of how I do each task, and spam my social networks with repeated invitations to join various lists, because I'm going away, permanently this time.

I'm giving myself time because I want to talk about people about what I'm doing via social media, and try to spark a mass exodus among my friends, family, and followers. And who knows? Maybe we'll get Silicon Valley to notice, and they'll start competing to make better products, ones in which we aren't the product. If not, we're sure to benefit anyway.


Why is racism wrong?

Denial of individual humanity

The problem with racism is the collectivism—the tribalism—the treatment of people as mere tokens or representatives of their races. That, as it turns out, is a profoundly appalling and consequential attitude to take. Treating people as mere tokens of their race literally dehumanizes them. Why? Because it ignores, often accompanied by great contempt and hatred, the very feature that make a person human: their unique ability of reason, to think things through, to think for themselves, to direct their own lives.

We humans are defined by our rationality, Aristotle said. He wasn't wrong. What distinguishes us is our ability to reason, not just in the sense of making a logical inference here or there (lots of animals can do that), but in the sense that we can reflect deeply and at length about important decisions, the direction of our lives (past, present, and future), our assumptions, and our values. Our ability to think things through, to step back and take stock: that is the nature of human rationality. And that is the thing that makes us human, and that is the thing that makes us each unique, and that it is the thing that is dismissed without a thought by actual racists.

Racists, probably without quite realizing it, make some assumptions when they encounter a member of a disdained race: "This person is merely a representative of that race. His uniqueness does not matter. His difference, his thoughts and values, his humanity—none of that matters. He's fungible, interchangeable, equally worthy of contempt as any other member of his race."

Our rationality, as I described it, is also—as I maintained at length in an essay on this blog—equivalent to our free will. It is also what gives us each our dignity, that which commands a basic sort of respect, no matter what. The reason a person should never, no matter how terrible his crimes, be discarded like only so much trash, is that we wish to respect that feature shared by all the rest of us. A mass murderer may be as awful a person as you can imagine, but no decent, sober person in the light of day wants to torture him to death; to do so would be to, as it were, discard his dignity, his humanity itself.

So we can say just as well that a racist essentially denies the freedom and dignity of members of hated (or disdained) races.

At this point, I should acknowledge that people can be more and less racist. For example, there are people who generally hate members of other races, but make exceptions for religious or political allies or personal acquaintances. They can also be merely biased, tending to discount any individuality and uniqueness of members of a disdained race, but rarely doing so wholly. A complete racist, by contrast, couldn't imagine being friends with the disdained or hated race; one might as well be friends with a slug or a rock, or any other thing that is undifferentiated and worthless. The race per se is dehumanized for the thorough racist.

Dehumanization

Let's talk a bit about what "dehumanizing" means, because I think it's very important to understand, if you want to grasp the awfulness of racism. Perhaps the best way to get a bead on it is to consider some clear examples, of all sorts.

Think of

  • the slaveowner who cannot tell his slaves apart and thinks the only bad thing about beating a slave to death is the loss of labor.
  • the medieval lord who naturally thinks of his serfs as mere animals, like deer or foxes, that are part of the land, and that may be disposed of however he pleases.
  • the soldier at war who so thoroughly hates the enemy that he delights in any enemy deaths, no matter how unjustified.
  • the 19th-century factory owner who quite literally does not care whether the workers live or die, so long as more are available to keep the operation going.
  • the totalitarian leader driving the only expensive vehicle on the city streets, pleasantly regarding of all the people around him as "workers" or the "proletariat" or "das Volk," making plans for punishment of dissidents and hated groups in concentration camps.
  • the KKK member, the new-Nazi, the identitarian, the race purist, the Stormfronter, the troglodyte who utterly and completely hates some race (or several races), who thinks of them as subhuman vermin to be exterminated or, at best, to be avoided at all costs.
  • the true zealots, i.e., those who are so committed to a political ideology or religion that people who do not share it are so far beyond redemption that the zealots literally cannot care whether the heretics (or benighted, etc.) live or die.

There are other categories as well. These aren't the only sorts of people who dehumanize others. Another sort of example would be the criminal sociopath, a genuine misanthrope who lacks a conscience and views all other people as mere tools to be manipulated. Another still would be a truly vicious criminal gang, which views everyone unassociated with the gang to be little more than weak prey.

What all these people have in common is a failure to evaluate others as individuals with a unique mind and the inherent freedom and dignity that go with them. Instead, the dehumanizer regards them as mere instances of some hated, despised, or in any case undifferentiated group: they are mere slaves, mere serfs, mere enemies, mere workers, mere proletarians, mere n‑‑‑‑‑s or Jews, mere heathens, mere [fill in the blank with an epithet for some utterly despised political enemy].

Note that we can have a similar dehumanizing attitude toward groups that it is more popular to hate, such as criminals, pedophiles, and—let's not forget—racists.

So why is racism wrong?

Let's recapitulate a few things. Racism begins by regarding people of the despised race as mere members of that race, i.e., lacking any individual identity worthy of consideration. When racists do not consider others' individual identity, that means they have dehumanized them.

It is the dehumanization aspect of racism that leads racists to do horrible things to others, when they do, things that their victims (unlike, for example, convicted criminals) certainly do not deserve. Notice, this is true of all sorts of dehumanization. We are restrained from particularly brutal, inhumane behavior against people whose shared humanity and equal dignity we acknowledge. If we acknowledge someone's shared humanity, we are generally (except perhaps under duress and other extraordinary circumstances) incapable of flouting that dignity. We might punch someone we respect in the chin, but we won't torture him. We might force a disliked employee to work overtime, but we wouldn't callously put her life in serious danger or consider enslaving her. We might teach or report respected citizens in a biased way, but we wouldn't literally propagandize them or force their minds. There are some things that we simply do not do to our fellow human beings, if we accord them basic dignity.

The denial of a person's humanity—which racism implies—has of course enabled all sorts of inhumane treatment, throughout history, as trivial as snubs that indicate "you mean nothing to me" and as profound as genocide. We might also point out that racism is profoundly and unnecessarily unfair, i.e., it singles out people by race—a feature they didn't choose—for poor treatment. That, I suppose, is so obvious as not to need much further argument. It is, again, that denial of a person's humanity that makes such poor and unfair treatment possible. And that comes back to collectivism: the racist regards the despised race as mere undifferentiated representatives of their race, their individual minds being unworthy of consideration.

The audience of this little essay is not racists; I wouldn't expect racists to be persuaded by my arguments. But maybe some of them will read this. I imagine that the obviousness of the considerations of the last two paragraphs are such that any such racists would be unlikely to be moved to reconsider their racism. After all, no doubt most racists have somehow been confronted with the fundamental inhumanity and unfairness of their attitude. But they can't bring themselves to care.

But I have something else to say to (and about) such people. There's another sort of reason to think racism is wrong that might, perhaps, give some racists pause: racism is extremely bad for the soul. Here I don't mean anything religious (although you can apply the notion in that way if you wish). I mean that racism involves denying your shared humanity with other people who very obviously possess every bit as much dignity and freedom as you. When your hate, contempt, or utter indifference to some other people is so profound that you are incapable of crediting their humanity, something surely must have died within yourself. You, the racist, become the sort of person who is instead capable of monstrous, inhumane behavior. Denial of humanity in others can lead you to inhuman acts. That is how your soul is at risk, so to speak.

Moreover, the collectivism or tribalism that lies at the root of your callous attitude toward others of a disdained race can and probably will be turned on other classes of people. Who knows where, for you and those you influence, it will end? Just for example, the KKK did not stop at hating blacks; they also turned their ire toward Jews, Catholics, and Catholic immigrants (maybe especially the Irish). The roster of groups hated by European fascists (beyond merely the Jews) was also large. The ability to regard all members of any one group as an undifferentiated collective of "vermin" opens your soul up to more of the same, compounding the madness. This will not just harm others, if it does; but it will certainly harm you, the racist, deeply.

If that means nothing to racists, there's nothing that anyone can say to them, surely. But it ought to give them some pause.

I can imagine a committed, acknowledged racist—such people exist—responding that they would never dream of "monstrous, inhumane behavior" toward anyone of the race they hate. They simply want to have nothing to do with them. If you talk to neo-Nazis, some of them do say things like that: the Holocaust (if you can get them to admit that it happened) really was horrible. They just don't want to live in a society with Jews or blacks in it.

So let me be clear: I'm not saying all racists are like the very worst racists. As I said earlier, I know there are gradations of racism. Also, I am not trying to establish an obvious conclusion (that racism is wrong) cheaply, by assuming (falsely) that everyone who deserves to be called a "racist" is capable of participating in lynchings or genocide, for example.

But that isn't how my argument works. My argument is that racism does, in its most extreme or pure form, thoroughly dehumanize its targets. It is that dehumanization—that failure, to some degree or other, to acknowledge our shared humanity and equal dignity—that makes it possible for racists to do some truly awful things.

The thing that makes racism so awful is the dehumanization. As I argued, that is a feature it has in common with other of the most brutally destructive forces in human history: slavery, serfdom, dehumanizing the enemy, abusive labor practices, totalitarianism, zealotry, and true extremism. It's also similar to sociopathy and gangsterism. It's all about denying others their basic humanity: failing to regard them as having independent, unique minds worthy of basic consideration, minds that give us, all of us humans, the free will that gives us our equal dignity.

I wrote this essay primarily to clarify these issues to myself. I don't pretend to be a race theorist, but as with many topics in philosophy, I don't let that stop me from trying to clarify and test my own thinking on a topic. I hope you found this interesting and, whether you think I am right or wrong, I welcome your feedback below.


Kick the tech giants out of your life

If you're like me, you feel a need to need to kick the tech giants out of your life. But how? Well, nobody said it would be easy, but I'm actually doing it!

Stop using Google Chrome. Google is contemptuous of your privacy and of free speech. I recommend Brave.

Stop using Google Search. And it tracks you after you search. I recommend DuckDuckGo, with results just as good as Google's 90+% of the time, in my experience.

Stop using Gmail. Look. Gmail is way overrated. And there are many, many other options out there which do not read your mail and extract marketable data.

Stop using Google Contacts and iCloud. Start managing your own contacts and data. There are lots of great tools to do this; it's not that hard.

Shields up on all the tech giants' websites and devices. Dive in to the innards of your settings (or options)—not just a few, all of them, because they like to hide things—and set your privacy settings to max.

Maybe quit social media. Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and others have becoming increasingly censorious and contemptuous of your privacy. Make them less relevant by spending more time elsewhere, if you can't just quit for good.

Use a password manager. Stop letting your browser track your passwords.

And then, if you want to get serious:

Start learning Linux... Microsoft's problems with privacy and security are famous. Apple has its own too. Well, there are these things called "virtual machines" which make it easy (and free) to install and play with your very own Linux installation. Try it!

...then switch to Linux. If you know how to use Linux, why not make the switch to something more permanent? You can always dual-boot.


I'm quitting social media cold turkey

"Yet another public resolution to leave Facebook or Twitter," you say with a laugh. "Only soon to be given up like so many others, no doubt." That's a reasonable reaction. But go ahead, check up on me: here are my Twitter account and my Facebook account. My last posts were Sept. 11 and Sept. 12. I promise to leave this blog post up forever--that'll shame me if I get back to it.

I've critiqued social media philosophically and even threatened to abandon it before, and I've advised people not to use it during work time (I admit I've later completely ignored this advice myself). But I've never really quit social media for any length of time.

Until now. As of earlier today, I've quit cold turkey. I've made my last posts on Twitter and Facebook, period. I'm not even going to say goodbye or explain or link to this blog post on social media, which I'll let others link to (or not). Friends and family will have to either call or email me or make their way here to get an explanation. I'll be happy to explain further and maybe engage in some debate in the comment section below.

I thought I'd explain what has led to this decision. You'll probably think it's my sniffy political stance against social media's threats to free speech and privacy, but you'd be wrong--although I'm glad I'll no longer be supporting these arrogant, vicious companies.

This resolution didn't really start as a reaction to social media at all. It began as a realization about my failings and about some important principles of ethics and psychology.

1. Socrates was right: we're not weak, we just undervalue rationality.

We are a remarkably irrational species.

Recently I began giving thought to the fact that we so rarely think long-term. If we were driven by the balance of long-term consequences, there are so many things we would do differently. If you think about this long enough, you can get quite depressed about your life and society. Perhaps I should only speak for myself--this is true of me, for sure--but I think it is a common human failing. Not exercising, overeating, wasting time in various ways, indulging in harmful addictions, allowing ourselves to believe all sorts of absurd things without thinking, following an obviously irrational crowd--man might be the rational animal, as Aristotle thought, but that doesn't stop him from also being a profoundly irrational animal.

I'm not going to share my admittedly half-baked thoughts on rationality in too much detail. You might expect me to, since I'm a Ph.D. philosopher who was once a specialist in epistemology, who has spent a great deal of time thinking about the ethical requirements of practical rationality, and who has done some training and reading in psychology. I'm not going to pretend that my thoughts on these things are more sophisticated than yours; I know they're probably not. I'm not an expert.

I will say this, just to explain where my head is at these days. I have always taken Socrates' theory of weakness of will (akrasia) very seriously. He thought that if we do something that we believe we shouldn't--have an extra cookie or a third glass of wine, say--then the problem is not precisely that our will is weak. No, he said, the problem is that we are actually ignorant of what is good, at least in this situation.

This sounds ridiculously wrong to most philosophers and students who encounter this view for the first time (and, for most of us, on repeated encounters). Of course there is such a thing as weakness of will. Of course we sometimes do things that we know are wrong. That's the human condition, after all.

But I can think of a sense in which Socrates was right. Let's suppose you have a rule that says, "No more than one cookie after dinner," and you end up eating two. Even as you bite into the second, you think, "I really shouldn't be eating this. I'm so weak!" How, we ask Socrates, do you lack knowledge that you shouldn't eat the second cookie? But there is a straightforward answer: you don't believe you shouldn't, and belief is necessary for knowledge. We can concede that you have some information or insight--but it is quite questionable whether, on a certain level, you actually believe that you shouldn't eat the cookie. I maintain that you don't believe it. You might say you believe it; but you're not being honest with yourself. You're not being sincere. The fact is that your rule just isn't important to you, not as important as that tasty second cookie. You don't really believe you shouldn't have it. In a certain sense, you actually think you should have it. You value the taste more than your principle.

From long experience--see if you agree with me here--I have believed that our desires carry with them certain assumptions, certain premises. New information can make our desires turn on a dime. I think there are a number false premises that generally underpin weakness of will. I'm not saying that, if we persuade ourselves that these premises are false, we will thereafter be wonderfully self-disciplined. I am saying, however, that certain false beliefs do make it much easier for us to discount sober, rational principles, naturally tuned to our long-term advantage, in favor of irrational indulgence that will hurt us in the long run.

Here, then, are two very general premises that underpin weakness of will.

(a) Sometimes, it's too strict and unreasonable to be guided by what are only apparently rational, long-term considerations.

There are many variations on this: being too persnickety about your principles means you're being a hard-ass, or uncool, or abnormal, or unsociable, or positively neurotic (surely the opposite of rational!). And that might be true--depending on your principles. But it is not true when it comes to eating healthy and exercising daily, for example: in the moment, it might seem too strict to stick by a reasonable diet, so it might seem unreasonable. But it really isn't unreasonable. It is merely difficult. It is absolutely reasonable because you'll benefit and be happier in the long run if you stick to your guns. It will get easier to do so with time, besides.

(b) Avoiding pain and seeking pleasure are, sometimes, simply better than being guided by rational, long-term considerations.

This is reflected, at least somewhat, in the enduring popularity of hedonism, ethical and otherwise. The aesthete who takes the third glass of wine doesn't want narrow principles to stand in the way of pleasure (it's such good wine! I don't want to be a buzzkill to my awesome friends!); instead, he will also congratulate himself on his nuance and openness to experience. The same sort of thinking is used to justify infidelity.

Such considerations are why I think it is plausible to say that, no, indeed, in our moments of weakness, we have actually abandoned our decent principles for cynical ones. You might object, "But surely not. I'm merely rationalizing. I don't really take such stuff seriously; I take my principles seriously. I know I'm doing wrong. I'm just being weak."

Well, maybe that's right. But it's also quite reasonable to think that, at least in that moment, you actually are quite deliberately and sincerely choosing the path of the cool, of the sociable friend, of the aesthete; you are shrugging with a self-deprecating smile as you admit to yourself that, yes, your more decent principles are not all that. You might even congratulate yourself on being a complex, subtle mensch, and not an unyielding, unemotional robot. This is why, frankly, it strikes me as more plausible that you're not merely rationalizing: you are, at least temporarily, embracing different (less rational, more cynical) principles.

But as it turns out, there are good reasons to reject (a) and (b). Recently, I was talking myself out of them, or trying to, anyway. I told myself this:

Consider (a) again, that sometimes, rationality is too strict. When we avoid strict rationality, the things we allow ourselves are frequently insipid and spoiled by the fact that they are, after all, the wrong things to do. Take staying up late: it's so greatly overrated. Overindulgence in general is a great example. Playing a game and watching another episode of a television program are simply not very rewarding; just think of the more gainful ways you could be spending your time instead. Having one cookie too many is hardly an orgasmic experience, and it is absolutely foolish, considering that the consequences of breaking a necessary diet can be so unpleasant.

Indeed, most Americans need to be on a diet (or to exercise a lot more), and that is an excellent example of our inability to think long term. It is hard to imagine the advantages of being healthy and thin. But those advantages are very real. They can spell the difference of years of a longer life, and considerably greater activity and, indeed, comfort in life. That is only one example of the advantages of rationality. The simple but profoundly beneficial activity of going to bed early enough and getting up early enough can make you much more alert, active, happy, and healthy. Why do so many people not do that every night? I think the reason is, at least in part, that we literally cannot imagine—not without help or creative effort—what that better life would be like. We are stuck in our own moment, and it seems all right to us.

In short, the requirements of a rational human life seem unreasonably "strict" only because we lack the imagination to consider a better sort of life.

Consider (b) now. Pain, and especially discomfort, are not all that awful. They are an important part of life, and if you attempt to avoid all pain, you ultimately invite even more. There is nothing particularly degrading about discomfort. Especially if it is unavoidable, and if working or fighting or playing through it results in some great achievement, then doing so can even be heroic. I’m not meaning to suggest that pain for its own sake is somehow desirable. It isn’t, of course. But being able to put up with discomfort in order to achieve something worthwhile is part of the virtue of courage.

2. It is irrational to use social media.

I want to be fair. So if I'm going to examine whether indulgence in social media is rational or not, I'll begin with some purported advantages and see how solid they are.

Social media seems to benefit the careers of a few people. This seems true of people with a lot of followers; but my guess is that most people with a lot of followers already have successful careers, which is why they have a lot of followers. (Models on Instagram and popular video makers on YouTube might be an exception, in that they can make their career via the platform itself.) People with fewer than, say, 10,000 Twitter followers don't really reach enough people to have a very interesting platform. I have about 3,000 Twitter followers, and I've deliberately kept my Facebook numbers smaller just because I use Facebook in a more personal way. Frankly, my career doesn't seem to be helped all that much by my presence on social media. Besides, that's not why I do it.

My Everipedia colleagues might be a little upset with me that I won't be sharing Everipedia stuff on Twitter and Facebook anymore (which I won't--because I know that even that little bit would pull me back in). But I can assure them that I'll get more substantive and impactful work done as a result of all the time freed up from social media. I will continue to use communication platforms like Telegram and Messenger, by the way, and Reddit, in the Everipedia group, will also be OK. I'll also keep using LinkedIn to connect to people for work purposes. But Quora and Medium are out. Those are too much like blogging anyway. My time is better spent writing here on this blog, or for publication, if I'm going to do long-form writing.

Social media also seems to be a way for us to make a political impact. We can talk back against our political opponents. We can share propaganda for our side. Now this, I was surprised to learn, does seem to have some effect in my case. I've heard from one person that she actually became a libertarian mostly because of my posts on Facebook. (I could hardly believe it.) Others say they love my posts, and I think I do probably move the needle some miniscule distance in the direction of Truth and Goodness. But I'm only writing to a few hundred people on Facebook, at most. My reach on Twitter is larger, but I almost certainly do not persuade anyone 280 characters at a time.

This isn't to say that, in the aggregate, social media doesn't have a great deal of impact on society. It clearly does. But I think its total impact is negative, not positive. Perhaps the way I use it is positive, although I doubt it. I am more given to long-form comments than most people on Facebook and Twitter. I like to think that my comments model good reasoning and other intellectual virtues. But are they my best? Hell no. Does my influence matter, on the whole? Of course not. I am participating in a system that does, on my account and on most people's, lower the level of discourse.

On balance, I'm not proud of the political impact of my social media participation. I don't think many of us, if any, have the right to be proud of theirs.

Social media is kind of fun. Sure, it's fun to butt heads with clueless adversaries and get an endorphin boost from likes and other evidence of public visibility. But political debate is more frustrating than interesting, and the endorphin boosts are meaningless artifacts of how the system is designed. Nobody really thinks otherwise, and yet we do it anyway. It's pathetically, absurdly irrational.

Facebook keeps me in touch with my friends and family. Admittedly, there is very little downside to this one. I frankly love hearing from old high school friends that otherwise I might not hear from for years. Facebook keeps me a little closer to my extended family. That's a great thing. A common response to this is that the quality of our interactions is much worse than it would have been otherwise. But if I'm going to be honest with myself, I just don't see this. I mean, Facebook lets me see remarks from my funny and nice old friends from high school, and I probably wouldn't talk to them at all if it weren't for Facebook (sorry, friends, but I think you understand! There isn't enough time in the day to keep up with all the friends I've ever made in my life!). There's no downside there. And no, I don't think it makes my relationship with my family any worse. I think it makes it a little better.

So what about the disadvantages of social media?

We are driven by algorithms. Facebook, Twitter, and the rest carefully design algorithms that highlight the posts our friends make to fit their purposes, which are not ours. The whole system has been designed by psychologists to hook us to participate as much as we can, which it frequently does.

Social media companies spy on us. And they make it easier for other companies, organizations, and (most concerning to me) potentially repressive governments to do so. And by participating, we endorse that behavior. That seems extremely irrational.

Social media companies have started to openly censor their political opponents. And again, if you participate, you're endorsing that behavior. Continuing to participate under those circumstances is irrational for conservatives and libertarians.

I sometimes get kind of addicted. I go through phases where I use social media a lot, and that can be a pretty awful waste of time, at least when I have many other things I should be doing. This is the main reason I think the right strategies are "cold turkey" and "you won't see me again"--like it or not. In short, I want to minimize temptation.

We indulge in petty debates that are beneath us. This bothers me. I don't like dignifying disgusting propaganda with a response, but I seem not to be able to restrain myself when I come across it in my feeds. Often, a proper response would require an essay; but I'd be writing an essay in response to an idiotic meme (say), which is kind of pathetic. I'd much rather have long-form debates on my blog (or between blogs that reply to each other, as we used to do).

It takes time away from more serious writing. I can write for publication. So why should I waste my time writing long Facebook posts that only a few people see? For things not quite worthy of publication, at least if I focus on my blog, I can write at a longer length and develop an argument more completely. Did you used to have a blog on which you had longer, better things to say?

So it's a waste of time, on balance. The opportunity cost is too high. I can and should be spending my time in better ways--work, programming study, helping to homeschool my boys, and doing more serious writing. That's the bottom line. Apart from keeping me in touch with family and friends on Facebook, the advantages of social media are pretty minimal, while the disadvantages are huge and growing.

Why don't I just limit my social media use to personal interactions with family and friends on Facebook, you ask? Because I don't want to take the risk of falling back into bad old habits. My friends can visit my blog and interact with me here, if they want. My family I'll call and visit every so often.

So I'm turning the page. I don't expect this to be big news for anybody. But it's going to change the way I interact online. If you want to keep seeing me online, start following my blog.

3. Can I really do this?

I suppose I've given a reasonably good analysis of why using social media is irrational. I've said similar things before, and many others have as well. And yet we keep using social media. Obviously, human beings are often not guided by rationality; much would be different in our crazy old world if we always were.

It is remarkable, though, just how much we acknowledge all the irrationalities about social media, and yet we indulge in it anyway. There's something deeply cynical about this. It can't be good for the soul.

The big question in my own mind is whether I will really be able to stay away from social media as I say I will. My use of social media is irrational, sure. But I don't pretend that the mere fact that  is, all by itself, enough to motivate me; indeed, I'm not sure who it's rational for, apart from the very few people who make a career out of it.

But I want to try. And as I said at the start of this post, it's not just about social media. It's about making my life more rational. So at the same time, I want to start eating more healthily and exercising more regularly, going to bed earlier, etc. Doing all that at once seems very ambitious. It might even seem silly and naive for me to say all this. But the insights I've reported on in part 1 above have really stuck in my mind, and they don't seem to be going away. So we'll see.


So I tried out Gab.ai

After the recent purges of Alex Jones and assorted conservatives and libertarians by Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, and others, I decided it really is time for me to learn more about other social networks that are more committed to free speech. I decided to try Gab.ai, hoping against hope that it wouldn't prove to be quite as racist as it is reputed to be.

See, while I love freedom of speech and will strongly defend the right of free speech—sure, even of racists and Nazis, even of Antifa and Communists—I don't want to hang out in a community dominated by actual open racists and Nazis. How boring.

So I went to the website, and, well, Gab.ai certainly does have a lot of people who are at least pretending to be Nazis. I never would have guessed there were that many Nazis online.

To support my impression, I posted a poll:

 Are you OK with all the open racism and anti-Semitism on Gab.ai? 57% Yes. 37% I tolerate it. 6% Makes me want to leave.

Wow! 1,368 votes! I sure hit a nerve with Gab.ai. But the results, well, they were disappointing: 57% of self-selected poll answerers on the web poll said they were OK with open racism on Gab.ai, 37% tolerated it, and it made 6% of them want to leave. But I was told by several people that I should have added another option: "That's what the Mute button is for."

There's another reason I've spent this much time exploring the site. It's that I really doubt there are that many actual Nazis on the site. Consider for a moment:

  1. The Establishment is increasingly desperate to silence dissenting voices.
  2. Gab.ai and some other alternative media sites have been getting more popular.
  3. Silicon Valley executives know the fate of MySpace and Yahoo: it's possible for giants to be replaced. Users are fickle.
  4. Like progressives, most conservatives aren't actually racist, and they will be put off by communities dominated by open, in-your-face racists.
  5. There's a midterm election coming up and people spending untold millions to influence social media, since that, we are now told, is where it's at.

Considering all that, it stands to reason that lots of left-wing trolls are being paid (or happily volunteer; but no doubt many are paid) to flood Gab.ai and make appallingly racist, fascist, anti-Semitic accounts. Of course they are; it's an obvious strategy. The only question is how many—i.e., what percentage of the Gab.ai users—consist of such faux racists.

Such trolls aside, there are at least two broad categories of people on Gab.ai. In one category there are the bona fide racists, Nazis, anti-Semites, and other such miscreants, and in the other category there is everyone else—mostly conservatives, libertarians, and Trump voters who do things like share videos of (black conservative) Candace Owens and shill for Trump (I voted for Gary Johnson, and I've always been bored by political hackery). The latter category of user mutes those of the former category, apparently.

So, feeling desperate for an alternative to Twitter, I spent a few hours today on the site, mostly muting racists, and a bit of getting introduced to some people who assured me that most of the people on the site were decent and non-racist, and that what you had to do was—especially in the beginning—spend a lot of time doing just what I was doing, muting racists.

Boy, are there a lot of racists (or maybe faux racists) there to mute. I still haven't gotten to the end of them.

But I'm not giving up on Gab.ai, not yet. Maybe it'll change, or my experience will get better. A lot of people there assured me that it would. I love that it's as committed to free speech as it is, and I wouldn't want to censor all those racists and Nazis just as I wouldn't want to censor Antifa and Communists. Keep America weird, I say!

If it's not Gab.ai, I do think some other network will rise. Two others I need to spend more time on are Steemit.com, a blockchain blogging website, similar to Medium and closely associated with EOS and Block.one, and Mastodon.social, which is sort of a cross between Twitter and Facebook. Steemit has become pretty popular (more so than Gab.ai), while Mastodon has unfortunately been struggling. I also want to spend more time on BitChute, a growing and reasonably popular YouTube competitor.


No Social Media During Work! Take the pledge NOW!

Social media is a time suck. I'm not as bad as some, but I need to focus better. I think a lot of us do, frankly. Don't you agree? Then let's start a No Social Media During Work campaign!

I'm pledging to abandon social media networks when I am at work, except for narrowly defined work purposes. And I'm asking you to hold me to it and slag me mercilessly if you catch me at it! And I'm inviting you to take the pledge, too!

Here is my pledge. This feels like a big step. Here goes!

I pledge, as of NOW, to abandon social media networks when I'm at work! Pledge with me!

I am at work weekdays at least from 8 a.m. until 5 p.m. Eastern, taking noon until 1 p.m. for lunch; and also from 9:00 p.m. until 11 p.m.; on Infobitt.

I want to do as well as I can on it! So I hereby pledge to abandon social media networks when I am at work. Hold me to it and slag me mercilessly (after your work) if you catch me at it!

I am @lsanger on Twitter, larry.sanger on Facebook, Larry Sanger on Quora, and Larry Sanger on YouTube. Hold me to my pledge!

Exceptions are very, very narrowly limited to: posts and discussion about Infobitt; also, holidays and declared sick days.

Checking for responses on any network is permitted only if I recently posted something work-related, and I might actually get a response.

I also promise to track my friends' pledges. If I notice a broken pledge, I will call them on it!

If you, too, want to take the pledge, then post a copy of your pledge to all social media networks you spend time on. Feel free to double down by adding your pledge to the bottom of this pagehttp://larrysanger.org/2015/06/take-the-pledge/ . Make sure to include your pledge somewhere on your user page, not just as a separate post, so you and others will not forget your pledge. Do make a video of yourself (here's mine) reading a written version of your pledge on any video networks of yours, like YouTube.

Work hard, and then play hard!

Wow. I hope this is the right decision. I think it is. It feels like a big one. I'm actually very excited!

OK, are you ready to take the "No Social Media During Work" pledge with me? Come on, DO IT! Not only will you get more work done and feel better about yourself, if you post it publicly on all your networks, then you can help improve the productivity of the world! And you can publicize your own social media presence. It's a massive win for everybody!

Come on, somebody write an app to catch me and others in violations, and I'll use it (the iPhone version) and link to it!

Here's a pledge form you can fill out:

I pledge, as of NOW, to abandon social media networks when I'm at work! Pledge with me!

I am at work weekdays at least [ list your work hours; list breaks if you want, though I didn't list any, except for lunch] on [your company, project, school, etc.—optional].

I want to do as well as I can on it! So I hereby pledge to abandon social media networks when I am at work. Hold me to it and slag me mercilessly (after your work) if you catch me at it!

I am ___ on Twitter, ___ on Facebook, [ list other social networks similarly]. Hold me to my pledge!

Exceptions are very, very narrowly limited to: [ list exceptions as carefully as necessary]; also, holidays and declared sick days.

Checking for responses on any network is permitted only if I recently posted something work-related, and I might actually get a response.

I also promise to track my friends' pledges. If I notice a broken pledge, I will call them on it!

If you, too, want to take the pledge, then post a copy of your pledge to all social media networks you spend time on. Make sure to include your pledge somewhere on your user pages, not just as a separate post, so you and others will not forget your pledge. Do make a video of yourself reading a written version of your pledge on any video networks of yours, like YouTube.

Work hard, and then play hard!

Well, are you in?