Some time ago I came across this post on Fast Company’s Co.Create, (if you haven’t checked it out, you should), that gathered some Instagram pictures of “greatest moments”. They weren’t any kind of picture, like a picture of a cat with glasses or something like that. They were meaningful. And that made me think about Instagram, about Internet, about our culture, and, most of all, about ourselves.
It all started with a single question:
Usually, Twitter is not the kind of place expected to resonate with this kind of things. But it did. And it worked. Lots of people started sengind Richard photos of their best moments with their childrens, or their friends, or whatever it was that made them happy and joyful.
That, for me, was incredible by itself: the way in which people who’d never meet in person, (and, chances are, never will), were able to share their best and most intimate moments. Their most precious memories. Like nothing. And I started thinking about why would anybody do that, and why, if given the case, would I be one to ride amongst the wave.
This kind of sharing doesn’t match the mobile use that we are told about in the media. All they say it’s how much time we waste using WhatsApp and playing Candy Crush, and how better our lifes would be if we had no smartphones at all. But, as this little experiment shows, it’s not like that at all; or, at least, not all the time. There are meaningful moments between the bullshit. There always are. Why, then, do we fear so much the dehumanizing of the Internet monster?
The answer is much more simple than it looks like: because it sets us free, way more free than we’d like.
That, for me, was incredible by itself: the way in which people who’d never meet in person, (and, chances are, never will), were able to share their best and most intimate moments.
Society, (as a whole), expects us to fall in place and move the least possible. If we could, we’d force each other into straight iron cages; that way, nobody would bother nobody. That’s the hidden desire we all carry: the desire of being controlled. Of being told what to do. Not everybody holds this truth as much as other people, but we all agree in some degree, even if we refuse to admit it. Life wouldn’t be possible without certain barriers between our behaviour and utter chaos. We need law, we need order, and we need protection.
Internet, on the other hand, shatters all barriers. It connects us to what we like, and makes invisible what we don’t. That’s dangerous, of course, because it desensitizes us of common problems, but it also reminds us of many others. I’ve cried countless times on the Internet. I’ve seen videos of people starting new things after losing it all, I’ve read stories about extraordinary people who overcome even the toughest looking challenges… all that wouldn’t be possible if the Internet didn’t exist. I wouldn’t have donated so many times if it wasn’t for Humble Bundle and so many other platforms.
The Internet sets us free, way more free than we’d like.
The Internet connects us with anybody, anywhere. Mike Rugnetta, (host of my absolute preferred channel on YouTube, Idea Channel), talked about this kind of connections in his speak at XOXO. Here you have:
And that, for me, it’s key. It’s what I consider to be the most important feature of the whole Internet, (not just the Web): the different channels of communication, participation and collaboration.
And, well, that’s what I mostly talk about here on Medium.
Reccomend if you liked it and go to my page if you want to read more.
Twitter: @ferdindn
Email me when Fern&o Palacios publishes or recommends stories