Originally a comment by latsot on Talk about imperfect timing.
And as for (over) sharing in general…. When I was an academic computer scientist, a lot of my research was about privacy. I’ve expanded on this work a little since for people with actual money and for the book I’m supposed to be finishing (I’ll do it in a minute, OK, stop nagging.)
Anyway, without going into detail, one of the things I talk about a lot is the idea of privacy as a community enterprise. We have a tendency to see secrets, for example, as things we own. But we don’t; most secrets are shared with other people and if they’re not, the mechanisms by which we keep secrets are shared. Think of codes of silence or village huts with very thin walls; we pretend not to hear or we give people space if we think they need it. We work at producing environments in which we can keep secrets or share them (either implicitly or explicitly) under some mutual understanding that if you blab, the tables could be turned.
It’s all a lot more complicated than that of course but hopefully you get the idea.
Anyway, it should be obvious that social media is not built according to this model. It encourages over-sharing and the custodians of our privacy are no longer people we kinda-sorta trust, working in mudily mutual self-interest. I hypothesise that this is one of the reasons that social media is so batshit insane. It’s not anonymity as such that’s the issue, it’s a mistuning of inhibition because the space we’re operating in is fundamentally different to how we think it is and the nature of our interactions is not what we believe it to be.
So, to badges announcing our pronouns, sexualities, love of the Klingon language and cycling proficiency test scores. There’s a technical term (really) in privacy research called “ick.” Ick is when something doesn’t feel comfortable. It feels like oversharing. Someone knows a bit too much about you or you know a bit too much about them. For instance, one night when he was drunk, my dad told me out of the blue that he was circumcised. I didn’t know what to do with that information and now neither do you. It’s icky. It didn’t fit the expectations of our interaction. There were no rules within that interaction that told me whether or not it was appropriate for me, for example, to share that information on a public blog. Ickiness muddies the rules. That unexpected item (or lack of it) in the baggage area (so to speak) ruins the reasonable expectation of privacy. It also creates a prompt to over-share; he told me something personal… am I supposed to tell him something personal to balance things out? Ick can feel like a debt even when you didn’t want the information you’ve learned in the first place.
You can see where I’m going with this. Interactions between a patient and a doctor are intimate but now the patient is being bombarded with whatever information the doctor has chosen to broadcast. It’s icky, it changes the balance of power and it creates an expectation to over-share. Am I supposed to tell my doctor about my sexuality? Is she expecting it, or just open to hearing it? Is she open to hearing about it? Just because she showed me hers, it doesn’t mean she wants to see mine. Or does it? Who the fuck knows any more?
OK, I’m quite aware that I’m having badges do quite a lot of heavy lifting here, but I hope you see my point: the reason they seem icky is because they violate our tacit expectations of how that kind of formal but intimate relationship is supposed to work and we have no idea how to react. As when we use social media, the environment is taken out of our hands and placed in those of people who do not have our best interests at heart for reasons we don’t fully understand.
And we don’t know how to react. And it’s icky.