Back in 2004-05, Facebook was opened up to colleges and as an excursionary lark, I joined along with my freshmen peers. There weren’t games, or groups, or even photos. Just a profile pic, a wall, and… the Poke.
It was a curious thing. At the time, Facebook barely made sense itself, much less this feature that was never explained. So we clicked it, chuckled, and collectively moved on. But every once-in-awhile, someone new would join and start asking questions about this-and-that. And inevitably the poke would come up.
“What is this?”
The group would answer, “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing”. And while everyone would agree, someone would inevitably tell a little story about how they used it once, or a long time ago.
“I got into a poke war with my best friend.”
“One time, I accidentally poked a girl I liked.”
These stories were a revelation to me. Here’s this little lowly link on this website that did absolutely nothing, and yet there were stories, there were implications of social etiquette. People were imbuing this action with no function with well, something…ish.
Now the other actor, the Like. This button had a purpose. It was declarative. “I see this, and in my opinion, I approve.” This Facebook feature is omnipresent. You can like a post, a photo — you can even like whole websites on the website itself.
I talk about the Poke and the Like together because they illustrate the state of, not just social platforms, but the internet today. Facebook is a toolbox, helping people perform social tasks. And while it’s one of the most complicated toolboxes created thus far, it’s still incredibly inadequate in expressing the full range of human communication and emotion.
The Poke and the Like speak to these inadequacies. The Poke is too ambiguous, people form their own meanings, but it doesn’t immediately translate. Perfect for an inside joke, but doesn’t scale otherwise. While the Like is sharper, it still demonstrates the need for more nuance. It reveals the platform’s weaknesses. It can’t yet account for dislike, disdain, fervent support, apathetic acknowledgement, or enthusiastic love.
Love.
The internet doesn’t yet know how to love.
It was a curious thing. At the time, Facebook barely made sense itself, much less this feature that was never explained. So we clicked it, chuckled, and collectively moved on. But every once-in-awhile, someone new would join and start asking questions about this-and-that. And inevitably the poke would come up.
“What is this?”
The group would answer, “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing”. And while everyone would agree, someone would inevitably tell a little story about how they used it once, or a long time ago.
“I got into a poke war with my best friend.”
“One time, I accidentally poked a girl I liked.”
These stories were a revelation to me. Here’s this little lowly link on this website that did absolutely nothing, and yet there were stories, there were implications of social etiquette. People were imbuing this action with no function with well, something…ish.
Now the other actor, the Like. This button had a purpose. It was declarative. “I see this, and in my opinion, I approve.” This Facebook feature is omnipresent. You can like a post, a photo — you can even like whole websites on the website itself.
I talk about the Poke and the Like together because they illustrate the state of, not just social platforms, but the internet today. Facebook is a toolbox, helping people perform social tasks. And while it’s one of the most complicated toolboxes created thus far, it’s still incredibly inadequate in expressing the full range of human communication and emotion.
The Poke and the Like speak to these inadequacies. The Poke is too ambiguous, people form their own meanings, but it doesn’t immediately translate. Perfect for an inside joke, but doesn’t scale otherwise. While the Like is sharper, it still demonstrates the need for more nuance. It reveals the platform’s weaknesses. It can’t yet account for dislike, disdain, fervent support, apathetic acknowledgement, or enthusiastic love.
Love.
The internet doesn’t yet know how to love.
