When I was 10 and a student at Barnard Elementary School in a suburb not far from Ann Arbor, I was convinced that I could write enough letters to Rupert Grint that he would personally receive them and be able to write back to me. Perhaps it is a parent’s love that holds back the information that any letter sent to an actor in Harry Potter is unlikely to be read by the intended recipient, but I was thoroughly upset when I discovered the reality of just how many people were writing to Rupert. In the age of the mainstream Internet, this issue of collective voice and technological publishing power has certainly torn down barriers to entry on one-way communication—but has not made two-way communication between anybody in the world possible. Technology expands our capabilities to project our voices to the public, but being able to be seen in the masses of millions of users’ information requires a whole different skillset of determination and self-promotion.
The example I identified with in Shirky’s book Here Comes Everybody concerned Oprah Winfrey. “Whether Oprah wants to talk to each and every member of her audience is irrelevant: Oprah can’t talk to even a fraction of a percent of her audience, ever, because she is famous, which means she is the recipient of more attention than she can return in any medium” (Shirky 92). Getting Oprah to read a personal message left on her website, or sent to her television studio, is just as meaningless as the letters I sent to Rupert Grint. And just like these, any individual’s blog is just as meaningless to the millions of people on the Internet looking for content. In a sense, aren’t we all Oprahs and Rupert Grints when faced with the sheer mass of content on the Internet? There’s far too much information, so we must form our own systems of organization and filtering to see the parts that we want. Just as we set certain rules in our e-mail clients to recognize items as junk mail, we choose which sites we visit every day. We almost handpick stories to read from the already-reduced number of news sites we’ve chosen. Who can say that they log on to The New York Times’ website and read every story available today—let alone every story in one category! If I’m Oprah, I read the letters that I want and have the time to read. If I’m a student at the University of Michigan, I read a couple stories that are applicable to me and do not interfere with the completion of my schoolwork.
That’s what is perhaps so interesting about the first anecdote in Shirky’s book concerning the lost Sidekick. If the same problem had been written about in today’s Blogosphere, literally no one would notice or care. In Rheingold’s “Smart Mobs” article, Microsoft employee Marc Smith seems much more optimistic about the Internet’s power. “Whenever a communication medium lowers the costs of solving collective action dilemmas, it becomes possible for more people to pool resources. And ‘more people pooling resources in new ways’ is the history of civilization in..” Pause. “…seven words” (Rheingold 31). Albeit dramatic, Smith could’ve made a significant point when using the Sidekick story as an example. Twenty years ago, a complaining well-off man couldn’t have caused a fuss with the NYPD over a stolen piece of $300 property—especially because the item in question was left in a cab. And yet Evan managed to muster the power of collective action when news outlets got involved and thousands of people were watching the story develop. But this mentality—Marc from Microsoft’s mentality—completely falls flat today. It’s true that Zach Braff (popular movie and television actor) was able to crowd-source funding for a sequel to Garden State on the crowd funding website KickStarter, but he was able to harness his fame to garner the attraction of tens of thousands of donors. There are thousands of other projects on the site, proposed by talented industrial product designers and engineers and musicians, which have gone without funding. And there are millions of other stories, photos, videos, etc., that will go without notice on the web which are published daily.
Rheingold’s incorporation of Hardin’s controversial article called “The Tragedy of the Commons, “ aligns more with my personal beliefs on the Internet’s power (yet ubiquity). Hardin describes every man as part of a herd, encouraged to increase his herd but regardless of a lack of space to accommodate every man’s expansion. The most famous quote is that each pursues “his own best interest in a society that believes in the freedom of the commons” (Rheingold 34). The Internet strays from the definition of the commons in a very basic way; it can be considered a public good, but in most places not a good that can be diminished through other people using it (excluding price of access, broadband limits in public cafes, etc.). In short, any single person’s account and contributions to Reddit do not make someone else incapable of posting and contributing to Reddit. This well explains the mentality behind the user-generated content of the Internet: if one man’s consumption of space on the web doesn’t interfere with anyone else’s, why not use it limitlessly? Twitter, Facebook, WordPress, Tumblr, Reddit, Youtube…it seems as if everyone has an account on every site possible.
Is this this necessarily a bad thing? As always, there are two sides, but I’m leaning toward the negative. Obviously expanding access to technological capabilities and publishing platforms provides the world more choice on whose voice to listen to (regardless of knowledge or credibility), but it also obscures some of the professional and reputable outlets of information. It absolutely diminishes the power of a single voice, unless that single voice has something extremely important to say and a way to make that importance known to the world. Anybody can write a blog post; not everybody can write a blog post that millions of people will read—unless of course, you’re Oprah.
Works Cited
Rheingold, Howard. “Chapter 2.” Smart Mobs: The Next Social Revolution. 2002. Print.
Shirky, Clay. Here Comes Everybody: The Power of Organizing without Organizations. New York: Penguin, 2008. Print.