[ad_1]
I was on my nose around Facebook not long ago, doing the opposite of considering my business, when I got to the position of a stranger, visible through a touch of a college friend. It started with the word “warning”. My unstructured scrolling car reacts to warnings like teenagers in a movie to the “RISK” signs on a rusty chain link. I got off the bike, turned my baseball cap back on, and went to the abandoned mine.
The stranger wrote a “warning.” “This message can be created to try to guess / abort a community.” I’m not from a community, and when I clicked to read the full story I felt an uneasy pulse of sympathy between social media – partly goodness, partly gossip.
But at the bottom of the mine shaft, there was a surprise with cake and balloons. My stranger was having a baby, after great difficulties. I rearranged my condolences to the face of a happy-go-lucky face, even though they were both the same scrolling faces, both angry and empty at the same time. They made me feel bad, and no one invited me to the parties.
I’ve been observing online alerts for some time. I also see that little red flag Netflix puts them at the entrance of all shows. (“Rough Behavior” is my favorite.) It was the first time I saw a warning of a stranger’s pregnancy announcing someone else’s happy ending. On social media, we inevitably get into the days of others. We light fireworks at funerals and ask funeral fans to like our fireworks. But the message of the stranger was fully attentive to how we live in each other’s pockets today and, by extension, in each other’s faces. It seemed to me a tremendous tact.
An old story comes to mind Betty White tells it Grant Tinker about her late friend, whom she visited one evening in 1981, after hearing that her husband had died. Tinker had just come from a meeting he knew would be the new president and CEO of NBC. White remembers how he didn’t mention that he changed this spectacular change once he visited. “I’ve never forgotten,” White says. “That’s a friend class.”
Naturally, we still know how to have friend classes. But class is hard on social media. No one can be expected to read the room when the planet is the size of a room. So as a representative of the confrontation, we have warnings and cautions. We rely on good phrases: “Of course …” Transient complaints come along with acknowledgments of one’s overall prosperity. A friend confessed to me, “Sometimes it seems like I’m selling myself out of existence.”
Even algorithms are beginning to recognize the importance of tact. The online supermarket asked me if I was an orphan 40 years ago if I wanted to stop receiving emails about Mother’s Day offers. Earlier this year, Twitter has expanded a function which encourages people to rethink a harmful or offensive response before sending it. These “warnings”, as the company calls them, are based on a machine to analyze text, so they include the opportunity to give feedback: “Did we do something wrong?”
“Did I make a mistake?” it could be an automatic banner at the bottom of everything we post. For all the burdens of egotism in the so-called selfie generation, the main element that is Freudian in the digital age is surely superior to that disciplinary force that modulates our behavior according to the social norms of each of us. Our superhero is desperate to do things right. Twitter notes are outsourced to the superhero, our little mental warning voice is outsourced as code.
[ad_2]
Source link
