On Echo Chambers (echo chambers, echo chambers, echo chambers...)

Like millions of others, I have left Twitter for the bluer skies of Bluesky. The reasons are simple: my Twitter experience has become unbearable. What was once a thriving community of friends, cool people, funny strangers, and reliable media is now a witch’s brew of bad-faith arguments and name-calling. For the longest time, I stayed because there was no viable option. Now there is.

As Bluesky’s popularity has surged, reaching 20 million sign-ups, the criticisms have started to rise. Chief among them is that Bluesky may become a leftwing echo chamber. To which I say – so?

For realsies - so what?

Let’s say that Bluesky does in fact, become, the left’s Gab. (If you don’t remember, Gab is the social media site of choice for white supremacists, or at least it was until Elon bought Twitter.) Why was nobody in the media concerned that Gab was becoming a rightwing echo chamber? Why is the media so concerned that the left receives all the worst abuses of the right, while they are untroubled by the right maintaining safe spaces of their own?

A random post I picked from Gab.

Social media is meant to be, you know, social. Being social requires certain rules of decorum. One of the rules in my household is you don’t accuse me of being a pedophile or a genocide-apologist. You don’t call me “faggot” or “retard” or hurl antisemitic bile at me. You don’t threaten me or my family. You behave yourself. If you can’t do those things, I throw you out of my house.

My account is my house. When the neighbors are all breaking the rules of decorum, I have no choice but to move. So, I moved.

An “echo chamber” implies that one is only hearing one’s own voice. So far, that hasn’t been my experience on Bluesky. The voices I hear are not my own. They are friendly, yes, but sometimes challenging. For example, after I posted this piece about my new favorite podcast, The Telepathy Tapes, I received some pushback from a Bluesky follower who attempted to debunk an important aspect of the podcast. We’ve since been having a polite back-and-forth about it. To my mind, that’s exactly what a good social media interaction should be, people of good faith having good faith conversations about topics in which both have an interest. I can tell you how the exact same conversation on Twitter would have gone: badly.

Why do I need to invite abuse into my life? What am I, a Real Housewife?

Social media is important to me. It’s where I hang out with friends from around the world, get news, and promote stuff. For somebody like me who prefers not to leave the house unless absolutely necessary, it comprises a good deal of my social life. When I enter that space, I don’t want to suffer through twenty horrible interactions just to have a single good one. I want my social media to be welcoming, easy to navigate, and friendly without being sycophantic. So far, that’s been my experience on Bluesky.

If I want conflict, I can turn on the news. Or I can visit a hundred million other sites that specialize in outrage farming. And don’t get me wrong, one of the reasons I stayed on Twitter for so long was because a not-insignificant part of me thrives on conflict. I enjoy rhetorical combat. But I didn’t like what it was doing to me.

I didn’t like that I was engaging in hours-long debates over whether Trump raped E. Jean Carroll or “merely” sexually abused her. I didn’t like having to constantly defend facts. Yes, I was spending most of my time there debating whether or not something actually happened. January 6th, for example. Yes, it was violent and I don’t need to waste my time delineating the historical record. I didn’t like the way constant combat made me feel about myself.

I don’t want to strap on armor every time I hang out with buddies. With Bluesky, I can show up in shorts and a ratty t-shirt without concern. I’ll be honest, I don’t even put on sun block. If that’s an echo chamber, I’m cool with it.

Have we become so accustomed to experiencing our online lives as mortal combat that we feel compelled to reject spaces that offer, instead, decorum and respect? What critics are calling an “echo chamber” used to be called AOL or MySpace or Friendster or, dare I say, pre-Elon Twitter?

I’m not looking for an anodyne social media experience, merely a collegial one. Which is why I maintain strict rules of decorum on my Substack comments page. If you are insulting to other people, regardless of your political affiliation, you get a warning. If you continue to do so, you get blocked. That seems logical and fair to me.

To date, I have blocked exactly three people on BlueSky: two rightwing trolls and one crypto scammer. On Twitter, I would have blocked three accounts before the site had even fully loaded. This is what I typically see when I open Twitter.

Why would I want that in my home?

And now, I would ask for a favor. As this Substack grows, I’m starting to recognize that people are here for different reasons, and I’m starting to grow a little anxious about the content I’m providing. What sorts of things do you want to read here? What kind of balance between political and personal and esoteric? Do you like daily posts or would you prefer less? I started this as a lark, but it’s turning into a small community and I want to be able to serve that community the best way I can. A little feedback about the sorts of posts you hope for when you click on these posts would be much appreciated. Thank you so much.