Welcome to the second Thursday Writing! (Here’s what I do on other days.)
Today I was going to write about my ongoing quest to become a better writer, either by discussing content or by musing on structure. But then I read Barbara Jane Reyes’s post, “Blogging Ain’t Dead,” and it got the brain-wheels spinning so fast I thought I’d better devote my entry to blogging instead. Alas, content and structure, you’ll have to wait!
In “Blogging,” Barbara quotes an interview that references a breakdown of people’s internet roles. This breakdown, from a book called Groundswell, is called the Social Technographics Ladder, and it’s shown at left (click on the image for close-up and full explanation). The book and the graph come out of a market-research background, but what the ladder indicates to me is that the internet means different things to different people. I have been saying “the internets” for ages without thinking about it, and now I realize the ladder is one explanation for why I use a plural instead of a singular… and it’s also an explanation for a problem that’s been bugging me for years.
I have been blogging since 2001, which Wikipedia tells me is a mere two years after the first major blog sites like Livejournal and Blogger appeared on the scene. At that time I was a freshman in college and my early posts were often silly, not to mention irritatingly devoid of capital letters. But I stuck with the blog no matter how little I had to say, no matter how few readers I had, and so, it provided me with an interesting window into people’s online behavior. A lot of my friends started blogs at that time; of those, I think only blaurb has kept it up, and she updates only a few times a month. (Typefiend is still going strong and has branched out into all kinds of other web presences, but I didn’t “meet” him until 2005 or so.) Over the 9 years I’ve been blogging, my readers and commenters have changed like the seasons. It didn’t take me long to realize three vital truths: first, blogging is not for everyone; second, not everyone will read your blog no matter how interested they are in you; and third, most people just won’t leave comments. Erik is an excellent example of the two latter truths, since he doesn’t read my blog unless I direct him to specific entries, and he pretty much never leaves comments anywhere. Yet he (my husband) is as interested in me as any person can possibly be!
Over the years, I have wondered constantly how to get more of my readers to comment on my blog. I thought if I was just compelling enough, I could convince my more reserved readers to de-lurk. But the Social Technographics Ladder has made me wonder if maybe our internet roles are more fixed than that — that is to say, to wonder if it takes more than interesting content to convince a chronic lurker to cross the line into participating actively. Naturally, having a resident lurker at my side, I asked Erik why he doesn’t participate in the many online communities of which he could be a part. (For instance, he reads reddit every day.) His answer, in a nutshell, was that online participation doesn’t have the immediate relevance to his life as it does to mine; he doesn’t feel like he gets as much out of it as I do. Which is true of the way we interact socially in physical life, as well: I throw parties and talk to everybody; he watches and listens and only joins conversations if they particularly and urgently interest him.
This propelled me to the natural next question: how closely do our online roles line up with the way we interact with others in “real” life? According to the ladder, there are fewer active online participants than there are spectators. How would the ladder look if we were talking about, say, political involvement? Community involvement at a more local level? It may be that when I try to get readers to de-lurk, I am fighting just as powerful an enemy as political apathy or inertia. I’ve noticed on blogs that commenters will pour out of the woodwork when leaving comments will get them something concrete, like a chance to win something, but those comments alone don’t turn seasoned lurkers into regular participants.
I’ve been thinking particularly about this question of comments and lurkers because of the Open Mic I’ve started on this blog. I want the Open Mic to be a lively community, but so far the people who’ve shown the most interest in it are those who are already members of the “Creators” rung of the ladder — people who already have blogs or websites, or who already post content online through other venues. Maybe the Open Mic will be largely a community of creators for creators… which is fine, and a useful thing to realize at this early stage, but it does mean it will be a much smaller base of participants than I originally hoped. Well, who can say? It’s only the second week, and I have guest posts lined up for several future Open Mics, so that will change the dynamic of the event a bit. I’m eager to see where it all goes.
Tomorrow: Open Mic! We will have a guest post by my VONA friend Kuukua, on what’s in a name. See you then!



Hi Lisa, good post! I’ve also been thinking the same things and concluding similar things: that “lurkers” are most likely people in non-virtual spaces who already aren’t outspoken people. There are folks – emerging writers – who tell me they started blogging because they were too shy to approach more established writers in person, who are still IMO very e-shy. Similarly, there are the trolls and bully commenters, who I suspect are also bullies and jerks in real life. So in other words, I don’t see that blog has really changed this.
I’ve had to rethink my own attempts to “out” lurkers, as you say, but I realize instead that what I am doing is finding more younger emerging artists who are already invested in creating content, and giving these folks a venue.
Lisa, I have commented more on your blog than any of the other 8-10 that I read on a regular basis. I am older than most of your readers/responders and have not wanted to seem too conspicuously dated. However, your blog is wonderful, and I am loving these daily discussions. I can honestly say that because of you I have dusted off my pencils and started drawing again! Thank you! And if you really don’t mind an almost baby boomer joining your discussion I will lurk less often!
Sherry, I love your comments! Keep them coming. And I am so, so delighted I’ve played a part in bringing drawing back to your life. If you ever create something you want to share, the Open Mic is waiting…! π
Barbara, we’re so grateful for your generosity by providing us a venue! π It’s been very exciting for me to participate in the community you’ve created, and to meet/watch new artists that way.
π my blog is irritatingly devoid of capital letters. LOL. lisa! my web presence tends to come in waves… and so do my comments. interestingly enough, my social “appearances” also come in waves – i do alot of social stuff, and then i don’t. i try to comment as much as i can on blogs, though, because i would like to think that this encourages people to comment on my blog when i post! π i like it when people comment. i hear you, though, sometimes i look at my blog stats and wayyyy more people are reading it than commenting on it. oh well :). that’s OK with me. i also have popped by since you’ve debuted your new format, but i have not gotten a chance to comment much. i will come back to comment when i get a chance! π so this blog post made me wonder and look back at all my old blog entries to figure out when i first started. the first one ever was from 2002!!! really??
Hi Alison! π That’s how I started commenting on blogs, too — to try to get more comments on mine. Then I started loving the exchange for its own sake!
Yay for you for keeping up the blogging since 2002, even if it’s been in waves. π I’m reading you!
It’s true. I only respond to yours because I’m your sister. π₯ Otherwise, I would not know what to say. I never say anything in all the other blogs and forums I occasionally visit, with the exception of the food blogs when I’m posting feedback to a recipe.
Back in the day though I tried to de-lurk myself and joined an online chat forum dedicated to a band I liked. I dropped it a few days later, totally disgusted by how obnoxious and terrible the other people were. I’ve never joined another forum because of it. Granted, looking back, I didn’t fit in with the stereotypical fans of that band anyway so I’m not sure why I joined it. (oh yeah, the drummer was totally hot.)
I guess I’m just somewhere between a joiner and spectator. I never had your talent for talking. π Plus, if you couldn’t already tell, I jump from topic to topic and have trouble with coherencyblarbleblarble.
Hee. Well, I’ll take any thoughtful comments I can get, whether prompted by blood ties or not. π Your “coherencyblarbleblarble” made me laugh, but I think you write perfectly lovely comments. They make me feel like I’m talking to you. π
But I know what you mean about yucky forum experiences. I feel like people are often nicer on blogs than they are in free-for-all forums, but maybe that’s just because I only read sweet fuzzy blogs. π I’m not always big on open forums myself.
yours is the only blog i comment on! i tend to read blogs and then purposely avoid reading any comments by other people because they usually end up annoying me π (trolls, bullies, rude people, people just looking to get a rise out of others by being randomly contrary or negative, etc.etc.)
the internet itself tends to bring out the worst in people as well. hiding behind a seemingly anonymous username with no picture or personal data, people find it awfully easy to be nasty and say things they would never be able to say face-to-face. i agree that most people who are nasty online probably have that tendency in real life as well, but supposed anonymity goes a long way toward making people completely comfortable with not thinking before they speak hurtfully.
Wow, really? You always leave such nice comments, I thought you were a seasoned blog-commenter! π
It’s true, I’m always irritated when I see someone’s blog has 200 comments and the vast majority of them are uninteresting or mean-spirited. And I do think that’s because the internets bring out a lot of qualities that people are more invested in concealing in real life. But on the other hand, we also self-segregate a lot in real life, whereas the internets are open to all… when I worked in the public library I got a solid taste of what “open to all” means in terms of crazy or inarticulate people!
i don’t even mind the crazies or the inarticulates so much as i mind people who are just nasty because they can be. contrarians bug me the most: they just HAVE to disagree with the majority (whether or not they actually feel that way).
of course… these types of people bug me in real life too π what happened to good old fashioned “nice”?! it’s underrated π
Yes… I’d rather meet these people online where I can at least ignore them. ;b And I agree! Respect, people! Courtesy!