thinking about connections

I have some friends who talk to me exclusively through Facebook. My phone and my e-mail are displayed there for my friends. But most of the time, they talk to me through Facebook. Currently, the number of Facebook friends is somewhere in the 700s. They cover my family, my school, my university, my church, my work, my profession and my community.

I also have a number of friends and acquaintances who are connected to me via LinkedIn. But for whatever reason, the primary interaction I’ve had in LinkedIn is to accept a request to link. I think I’ve had less than 25 messages to do something other than link to people ever since I joined LinkedIn, and that was five years ago. Years. Currently, the number of LinkedIn connections is approaching 500. They’re mainly business contacts and relationships. A small number of the LinkedIn connections are also Facebook friends, primarily colleagues and ex-colleagues. But I would put the overlap at maybe 50. LinkedIn connections can send me emails; my blog is also made known to them, but not my mobile phone or e-mail address.

I’ve given away my business card to hundreds, possibly thousands, of people over the years; since I haven’t been much of a job-hopper (6 companies in three decades) it means that a large number of people can get hold of me if they really tried. I’ve had the same home number for over a decade, and only two mobile phone numbers during that time.

A slightly larger number of people appear to read my blog regularly. There are over three thousand subscribers to my feed, and I appear to get upwards of a thousand unique visitors daily. Some of the uniques are behind enterprise firewalls so the actual number may be a little higher. Some time ago, I had my blog hacked, and for some reason I forgot to put up any contact information when restoring the blog. And it’s been that way for the last three years. Most of the conversation on the blog happens via the comments, and I appear to have about three hundred regular commenters. Over the years I’ve met most of them in person, perhaps as many as two hundred and fifty. It’s a great feeling, when you meet a linker/commenter. Occasionally, someone wants to get in touch with me via the blog; what they do is leave a comment, and, most of the time, I use e-mail to respond to them if that is their preference.

A couple of thousand people now follow me on Twitter. I tend to follow back all real people, manually. (If I haven’t followed you back the most likely reason is human error. Mine. My apologies. Just ping me and I will correct it). As with the blog, maybe some 300 people converse with me regularly via Twitter, sending me @ messages and DMs.

My e-mail and telephone number are visible on Facebook and on my business card, and nowhere else. Nobody really uses LinkedIn to do anything of consequence with me, possibly because I’m rarely hiring or being hired. My Twitter account leads to my blog. And my blog leads nowhere.

None of this was intended or planned, it just happened. But after a while it seemed to make sense.

And so I come to the reason for this post. Whether what I am doing makes sense. [Sometime earlier today I tweeted about this, had a horde of replies, replied back to pretty much every one, and probably lost a few followers as a result.]

You see, I have this theory. That there are two types of people who connect with me, those who have a single preferred way of communicating with me, and those that choose according to the circumstances.

The ones that have a single preferred way are the “exclusives”, the ones who stay strictly within one particular network or communications modality. They seem to associate the choice of network or modality with an expected size and frequency of communication, and are uncomfortable when that changes. So, for example, when I used Twitter to update my facebook status, some of them howled. They weren’t prepared for it. They wanted to choose how to consume me, as it were. So I stopped doing that. Now they can still do so, via the FriendFeed integration into Facebook, but they’re in control when they do that. They choose, not me.

The ones who choose the path according to the circumstances tend to do so across all my so-called networks. And sometimes I get the feeling that it’s the same three hundred. Three hundred who are in my facebook contacts, my twitter followers and my blog commenters. Three hundred who mostly have my cellphone number and my e-mail address, or can get them easily. Three hundred who are my “Dunbar’s Number”. Largely because the cost of grooming such friendships has reduced sharply in this persistent, searchable, Tivo-ised world of communications, rather than because something strange has happened to my neurocranial capacity.

One way of looking at it is this. Those who stay locked in one form of communication with me, serene in their comfort zone, don’t need my e-mail or phone. They can look it up but rarely do.

As against this, those who choose how to communicate with me depending on the context, they also have all my contact methods and are relaxed about using multiples. Sometimes I get a DM and an e-mail and a text message at the same time from the same person!

So who am I really providing contact information for? Sometimes I’m not so sure. The only thing I’ve considered is making sure my Twitter profile is clearly visible on my blog. But then I have 2000 followers without doing very much, so do I really want to increase that number vastly? I don’t think so.

Which brings me to the naming issue. I’m JP Rangaswami, I get called JP, I can be found easily via Google using either. But JP is very hard for me to reserve when signing up to stuff. So I go for the next best thing, “jobsworth”. My private e-mail address, based on the codename for one of my favourite projects, when I sought to replace all the PCs at my place of work with Macs. (Jobs’ worth meets jobsworth, couldn’t resist the pun).

Chris Locke convinced me I should start blogging, way back in 2001. By 2003 I was playing seriously with the medium, and Doc Searls, along with Halley Suitt, encouraged me to start blogging externally. That took me a couple more years, during which time I practised by posting internally within the firm. But when I started, I didn’t feel good about calling it “JP’s Blog” or even “Jobsworth’s Blog”. So I chose Confused of Calcutta, and it’s stayed that way ever since.

JP, jobsworth and confused of calcutta can all be googled easily back to me. One’s me, one’s my twitter id, and one’s my blog. Simple as that. There was no grand plan to create this master brand or anything like that, and there still isn’t one. Nor will there be one.

So today I have three different-ish identities showing up in three different networks. Some friends know me in a narrow context, but not because I hide the rest of the context. I just don’t bother advertising the other contexts actively. Sometimes I include my twitter id in a post; sometimes I include my e-mail in a post, a tweet or even a comment. There’s no hard and fast rule.

I’ve received a large number of comments to my tweeted question. Many say I should make it easier for people to get in touch with me, many say I’m fragmenting and compartmentalising my identity for no good reason.

I don’t really intend to change my name or twitter id or the name of my blog. But if you guys thought that putting down my contact details everywhere and cross-connecting all this is the right thing to do, I will do it.

What’s your experience been? Is any of this making sense to you? How can I be better at this?

The key issue for me is if in some way I was disenfranchising someone. In which case please point it out to me.

On passion

I’m a passionate person. I’m passionate about the people that matter to me, the ideas I believe in, the things that I enjoy. And I make no secret of this. Just read the About Me page on this blog and you will get what I mean. Or for that matter the Kernel For This Blog page.

For a while I had no idea what “moderate” meant, and I’ve spent years learning to temper my passion with patience. Now I do “in moderation”, but I still don’t do “moderate”. Too close to “mediocre” for my liking.

One of the things I really like about the web is that it lowers the cost to me of pursuing some of my passions. I can find out more about them, develop and enhance them. Enjoy them. Savour them, relish them, bask in them. Immerse in them, joyfully, lazily, fully. Share them with others.

Some of these passions are offbeat and strange. What people would call Long Tail. Which is why I find it bemusing that some would seek to disprove Long Tail altogether. Just because you haven’t found a way of making money from it, it does not mean it doesn’t exist. That’s like saying gravity doesn’t exist unless it has an associated “business model”. [What an appalling phrase. People make shoes, not money.]

Anyway, indulge me. Humour me. As I list some of my favourite sites, places where passionate people share their passions with others.

Let me start with someone who needs no introduction, whose illustration adorns the top of this post. Gapingvoid. Hugh Macleod. Someone who’s really passionate about everything he gets involved in; a wonderful amalgam of quiet soft-spoken and hyper-energetic full-on engaged. So I spend time with Hugh whenever I can. Count him as a friend. And one day soon a business partner as well, I hope. Think for yourself. What made Hugh start each of his “acts of futility“? Passion. Pure unbridled passion, without a business model in sight.

Let’s move on to crosswords, another of my passions. Just take a look at this: Yet Another Guide to Cryptic Crosswords. Peter Biddlecombe’s personal paean to his passion. [Well, one of them anyway.]

What strikes me particularly is the first thing you encounter on Peter’s site, where he says:

Like many solvers of cryptic puzzles, I want more people to enjoy them. In these pages, I try to tell you enough about cryptic puzzles for you to start having fun by solving them.

He wants more people to enjoy them. He has found something good, and he’d like to share it. Now that is part of what marks Peter out for me. Passionate people share the things they’re passionate about.

That’s what made reading Kathy Sierra such a joy, as she shared her beliefs and knowledge and wisdom in Creating Passionate Users. The illustration above is an example of the stuff she used to share with us. [Kathy, it’s time to start writing again. What can we do to encourage you? Start a twitter group?]

How can I explain what was in Ian Fieggen’s mind when he started Ian’s Shoelace Site? Just one word. Passion. Here’s an excerpt:

Yes, I’m fascinated by shoelaces. By the act of tying shoelaces. Something a five year old child learns to do simply and easily, and yet something that is not trivial to program a robot to do. [Who knows, it may become part of course 101 at the Singularity University.]

There are still many Deadheads around, the Grateful Dead continue to be a very popular performing band. As I’ve confessed many times, it was their attitude to taping and to bootlegs that opened my mind, not only to different models for the music industry, but also for opensource thinking as a whole. Given all that, just take a look at this: The Annotated Grateful Dead Lyrics. Delve into it, go read something like The Annotated “Sugar Magnolia” or The Music Never Stopped (which I wrote about here). Here’s an excerpt from his notes, just focused on the phrase “jump like a Willys in four wheel drive”:

David Dodd is passionate. And enjoys sharing his passion with others. Others like you.

Passionate people don’t just act singly, they can operate in groups. As in the Wolfe Pack, an assembly of people who appreciate Nero Wolfe, the orchid-loving corpulent stay-at-home detective created by Rex Stout 75 years ago. Here’s an example of passion: Tony Auth’s letter to the Pack requesting membership:

Passion abounds on the Web, and here are some further examples of places I love:

I could have written for hours about the things I am passionate about, things that others have invested time in so that I can indulge my passions. My thanks to all of you, wherever you are.

Sometimes the level of detail astounds me. Take for example chess. I’m not quite sure where my love for chess originated, but one thing is certain: it became a passion when I saw this game: Edward Lasker versus George Alan Thomas, “Fatal Attraction”, again something I’ve written about before. I’ve played out the first few moves and taken it to the point where, to me, the sheer joy and beauty of chess began to reveal itself:

What makes someone put in the time to take thousands of games and load them on to the Web so that others can go through the games move by move, using software that’s fit for purpose? Passion. Unbridled passion.

I couldn’t possibly write a post about passion without marking the passing of “Bearders”, Bill Frindall, who gave me, and people like me, decades of joy by sharing his passion for cricket freely and unreservedly. Thank you Bill.

Passion is an intrinsic part of the web. Passion is an intrinsic part of life. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. So, whatever your passion is, indulge it. Find others who feel similarly about it, because they’re they’re. If you need help finding them, comment here, or use human search on Twitter. [ If you want to follow me on Twitter, I’m @jobsworth there.]

Whatever you do, be passionate about it.

Love’s labours gained

I was delighted to hear of this: Someone called JS van Buskirk in Atlanta, Georgia, has now written Shakespeare’s entire oeuvre in tweets, one play at a time. Here’s the link.

“JS” has done quite a good job: I tried to guess the play by reading her tweeted synopsis (shielding the abbreviated title, of course), and managed to get most of them right. My favourite is probably Henry V:

Bad-ass Henry V kicks France’s butt with a rag-tag army, many long-bows, and excellent speeches. Henry then marries a French princess.

More than anything else, I like the passion portrayed by such an act. The passion that propels someone to take all of Shapespeare’s plays and convert them into tweets, not for fame or fortune, but for the sheer joy of it. Just for the craic, as it were.

And talking about passionate people, what about this story? The A1 Steam Locomotive Trust. Their mission is:

To Build And Operate A Peppercorn Class A1 Pacific Steam Locomotive for Main Line and Preserved Railway Use

19 years. £3m. Making a maiden journey to London today.

Love’s labours gained.

More on reverse search

Some time ago I wrote about TinEye, a very useful little program that “reverse searches” the web for images. Particularly useful for two things: One, when you want to find the source of an image you’ve found and want to use, so as to obtain the right permission. Two, when you have a “free-to-air” image, but would like it in a higher resolution. [A third use has been suggested, where the input image is of you or someone you are close to, and the object is to see who else is using that image and in what context. I’m not the paranoid type, so that use hadn’t occurred to me.]

When it comes to music, Shazam has been doing something similar for many years now, and, if reports are to be believed, is poised to become one of the iPhone’s most popular apps. Shazam is also really good.

As far as text was concerned, I thought that Google was enough. Then someone sent me a link to CopyGator, and I’m still playing with it. Figuring out what I get that I don’t get from Google. My jury’s out at present. CopyGator can and will get better, but there’s bound to be competition. Watch this space.

[Incidentally, I still don’t understand why Google Search is separate from Google Blog Search. Do people really think the blogosphere is distinct and separate from the Web? I can understand if Blog Search is a narrow and specific search, say like Twitter Search. But I would still expect blog search results to be included in the main search.]

As Kevin Kelly put it, the internet is a great big copy machine, enabling the persistence of information. When you add search to persistence, it becomes very powerful. When you add reverse search, it becomes even more powerful. [Incidentally, this is why I argue that the Dunbar Number has increased. First we had oral communication. Then we had written communication. Then we had print. And then the internet. But we have gone beyond persistence into searchable retrievable archived communications, and this makes a big difference. Not everyone agrees, many have written in to point out that the number is calculated on physical neurocranial volume or some such. What I remember of the research suggests that the evolution of communication also played a part.]

My last post, about Joi Ito’s session at DLD, elicited a number of comments, including some from Joi himself. Joi visualises a world where every digital object attached to the web is associated with information about its formation and ownership. It is only a matter of time before we have powerful reverse search engines that seek out copies of digital objects as a means of rights enforcement. That is fine. What is not fine is when the search engines become judge and jury as to whether a work is derivative or not. If we allow that to happen, then it’s a case of Diabolus Ex Machina.

Looking for Mr Goodbar?

I had an unusual experience with Google today. Maybe it’s been happening for a while, and maybe I’ve never noticed it before.

I was in Google, and wanted to know what had happened at the FBR Open last night (I was too tired to stay up and watch). And rather than enter www.pgatour.com into my address bar, I did the lazy thing and entered “pgatour” into the Google search box. And this is what I got in return:

When I saw the “This site may harm your computer” warning for the main PGA site I was bemused, but vaguely prepared to believe that something was up. The site could have been infected with malware, and I guess I should have been grateful that Google was warning me. But I wasn’t convinced, since I wasn’t intending to download anything. So I went ahead and clicked on the link. And this is what I got:

Okay, they did warn me, and when I didn’t heed their warning, they warned me again. Now I was really confused. For those who are interested, this is the url that was showing at the time:

http://www.google.co.uk/interstitial?url=http://www.pgatour.com/

At that point I stopped. Went back to the search results. Looked down the list, beyond all the sites clearly linked with pgatour, and found the Wikipedia entry for the PGA Tour also tarnished with the warning.

I find it implausible that Google should declare so many sites as risky. I find it implausible that just going to that site will ‘harm my computer”. But what do I know?

Views?