All posts by Chris

Time to fix the blog

Hello again, friends.

This site is the default page on my phone, so if you were tired of looking at a headline about Twitter when you visited here, rest assured I was feeling it every single day. I actually have had a post (title only) sitting in drafts for over a year, titled “a requiem for twitter”. I won’t be writing about that today, because we’re all tired of that place.

Instead, let’s get an early start on getting a new start. It’s the day after Solstice, which is either midwinter or the start of the new year (depending on how you do calendars). Time to dust off this site and get writing again.

Do I have a topic? Nah. You get a ramble today. I have a dozen different things on my mind, and perhaps the trouble comes from waiting for them to be fully-formed. The last thing I wrote here was before all this *waves hands*, and it’s weird that all those thoughts I had since about covid, working from home, working from work again during the apocalypse… all went unremarked here.

Am I writing because of Substack? Perhaps. Catching up on Mastodon today I discovered that they’re the new Main Character, for saying out loud the quiet parts about taking white supremacy money because they’re colorblind. The hypocrisy is transparent, in a way that’s becoming too common. We’re A because we’re committed to B. We’re B because we’re committed to not being A. If we say it in GPT-approved prose it sounds good enough, right?

So am I writing because of GPT? Maybe. I’m a technology fan and I want talking computers more than folks might realize, but something about the milk-toast marketing garbage that comes out of text generators bugs me right down to the nervous system. Seriously, my spine aches and my head hurts when you include those paragraphs that GenAI spat out, like blurry JPEG artifacts in a family photo or autotune in an aria. I don’t want it. It makes me want to write something from the heart, idiosyncratic and dumb and ultimately meaningful. (Doesn’t help that my style is already too stiff. Seriously, this is an unedited first draft. Imagine thinking thoughts like this in your head. It’s like an NPR podcast in here.)

So why am I writing? To reach out to you, dear reader. This’ll pass through a thousand mechanical apparatuses to reach you, but I hope it finds you. Well. Any time it does, and especially if you can find a way to reach back, on Slack or Mastodon or Discord or a postcard or just saying hi on the street or in the hallway, then I think it’s worth the time. Time to start again.

Happy Solstice, everyone.

Twitter is back (on probation)

Oh, hello. My last post was just over a year ago; I declared that I was taking a break from Twitter for 2018. So. How did that go?

Spoiler alert: I didn’t miss Twitter much, but I did miss you, kind reader.

I didn’t miss any news. I mostly rely on The Guardian because I can read it daily (and no more frequently), I can pay for it directly, and it has an outside-the-US perspective. Space news comes from, well, Space News, as well as TMRO.

I certainly didn’t miss the drama. My life was refreshingly free of fights over apologies for slights over comments about news. Oddly enough, those fights sometimes ended up as Guardian stories, and they sounded pointless by the time they did.

I did miss friends. Even the occasional photo from a vacation or a night out can be nice, or a quick update about a new job or a move. We had our own milestones this year, like moving into our first house, and we only shared them with the few people immediately around us. It felt like losing touch.

With that in mind, I’m goin’ back in. So what’s different now?

First, I don’t sit on a bus for 3 hours a day anymore. Twitter won’t get big blocks of my time, because I don’t have them. In 2018 I switched from obsessively scanning through Twitter to obsessively scanning through Discord (and Slack and a few subreddits), so it’s not like I’m a social media angel now. I just won’t have the opportunity, so I think it’ll be a bit safer.

Second, spending a year without 99% of Twitter reminded me that I don’t need all of it. I don’t even need most of it. My plan is to stop following a bunch of people (because it turns out no one really needs DM access to me) and stick to a few quiet corners of Twitter. Starting today I’m sifting through messages to separate out the ones that bring joy from the ones that only bring drama.

We’ll see how it goes. Until then, Happy New Year!

taking 2018 off Twitter

TLDR: I’m stepping away from Twitter for 2018, from January through December.

I’ve talked before about how Twitter is a communication service, not an entertainment channel. I resisted changes to the format, retreated to third-party clients, and relied on lists* to make sure I’m seeing what I want to see, not what Twitter wants to show.

None of that is why I’m taking a break, though. Twitter’s been good to me for over a decade. I met some of my favorite people there. SpaceUp owes its existence to Twitter. (Specifically to @cariann, but that’s another story.) I work at a rocket factory because of Twitter. (Thanks to @malderi, yet another story.) I still hold that if Twitter were to go away, we’d have to invent something to take its place. (Something with a bit more empowerment and a lot less abuse. I can dream.)

I’ve actually spent more time on Twitter this year than before. I commute on buses a few hours a day, and Twitter is a reliable stream of low-effort infotainment I can hold in one hand while hanging on with the other. I can get excited about an upcoming launch, get mad about someone doing terrible things, feel better about someone being noble, get weepy over one thing and resolved about another, and calm down by looking at photos of Earth from space.

And that’s the problem. Once it’s done, all that time on Twitter feels like a waste. A sink. A tar pit made of feels. It’s engaging while I’m in it, but I get off that bus feeling hunched over, worn out, and ultimately unenlightened. Never mind the fact that I’m also contributing to someone else’s stream of social-media dopamine with every retweet and comment.

It doesn’t help that every day the company is growing more Nazi-friendly and less user-friendly, spending more time defending silly new features than defending people from attack. It also doesn’t help that one of the most prominent uses of Twitter is destabilizing western civilization, whether by botnet, crowdsourced horrible behavior, or single-handed idiocy. My gut tells me that Twitter is one more garbage decision away from a mass exodus. (Don’t laugh. It happened to Patreon quickly enough.)

So for 2018, I’m going to try life without Twitter. It’s not a rage quit, but a pause button. It’s not intended to be a judgement on anyone else. I just want to see what days are like without that particular monkey on my back. In January 2019 I’ll reinstall Tweetbot and take a look with fresh eyes. Who knows what I’ll find?

I’m not on Facebook or Instagram, so if you’re curious how to find me internet-socially… I have to ask, why on Earth would you? In general I’ll still be in the small-circle social places, like the Orbital Mechanics blanketfort on Slack and the TMRO audience chat. Heck, you could even dust of the ol’ email and send something to chris at globalspin dot com. Who knows where that might lead.

[*] OK, a confession about lists. If you take a look at my account right now, I’m following 530-ish people. However, I never view my timeline directly. I have two private lists called “Daily Reads” and “Extended Reads”, with 60 people and 380 people respectively. That lets me see everything from the 60 people I don’t want to miss, and skim through the rest. I sometimes worry this is misrepresenting that “follow” idea, but then I realize how little anyone actually “follows” when they’re following thousands of Twitter accounts.

on the difference between communication, news, and entertainment

Recently it’s become plain that Twitter plans to add Facebook-style filtering to the Twitter timeline. In other words, Twitter would reserve the right to add or remove tweets from your timeline, rather than sending through every tweet from every account you follow (and none from those you don’t).

Twitter’s stated goal is to make your timeline more engaging, which makes sense based on how they’re monetizing the service. Twitter charges advertisers to promote content, which like any other advertising requires a big block of people constantly paying attention to be worth anything.

For some users, filtering like this means nothing less than the end of Twitter. That may seem overblown, but I think it’s a fair assessment. To be specific: filtering the timeline changes Twitter from a communications service into a news or entertainment service, which is inherently less valuable to me as a Twitter user.

I’ll step back and define some categories:

Communications services involve connecting to a network, then sending or receiving over that network with any other member, as a peer. Examples include mail, phone, ham radio, text messaging, email, IM, and Skype. Connecting to the network may involve cost (like phone service) or registration (like ham radio), but once connected you can send and receive to and from anyone. Communications services are often judged by the completeness and availability of the network (vs. dropped calls or missed emails).

News services involve curated content made by producers and received by consumers. They might use their own network (like newspapers or television) or piggyback on communications networks (like email newsletters or sports updates by text), but the content itself is their primary concern. News services are often judged by the accuracy and timeliness of their information. Choosing whether to cover a particular story is considered an editorial decision, but news services can get in trouble for presenting edited content as truth. (Thus “recorded earlier” notices, or “this interview has been condensed”.)

Entertainment services are like news services, but go a step further; they curate content to be engaging, without the requirement to be true or accurate. Entertainment services often go hand-in-hand with news services, delivered by the same network (like television) or even sharing the same packaging (like newspapers).

The lines between these are fuzzy, but one yardstick to use is the kind of complaints you’d find reasonable in each case. We complain to the phone company when we can’t make a call, but we don’t complain to them about getting 20 tech support calls from family each day. We complain to ESPN when they don’t cover enough soccer, but not that a broadcast game didn’t feature enough goals. Conversely, if the phone company blocked your aunt’s tech-support calls or ESPN added CG goals to the game, that would be unacceptable. You wouldn’t see it as “more engaging content”; it would make the service inherently less valuable to you.

At its core, Twitter is (and has always been) a communications network. It’s a broadcast network, like ham radio, but if I’m sending and you’re listening you expect to get my message. It’s a free service, like IM, but you’d rebel if you started receiving IMs from advertisers or found companies on your buddy lists without adding them. It delivers news and entertainment content, like the mail, but you’d be shocked if the post office rearranged your newspaper or tucked another DVD in the Netflix sleeve.

The justification Twitter gives for adding tweets to your timeline – hey, these are still real tweets, not ads! – misjudge the category they’re in. If CNN swaps news stories with other news, that’s an editorial decision we expect them to make. If AT&T connects my call to a random neighbor because my wife didn’t pick up, that’s bizarre and unexpected.

Considering it this way, I’m not surprised at all that Twitter users are threatening to leave if filtering is added. I’ll probably leave myself, and look for a social communications service that knows what kind of network it is.

Patreon and the future of free software

Crowdfunding is big, and Patreon makes it useful to frequent makers of free art. The model works so well that I think it might revolutionize the way free software is made and paid for.

Paying for software sucks

Ever try applying a mod to Minecraft? They’re free to download, and they can add immensely to the gameplay. The trouble is that to pay for them, the developers put the files behind the nastiest advertising-based paywalls I’ve ever seen.

Finding ways to fund free software is broken. Part of it is the broad and fuzzy meaning of “free” here; it might be crucial open-source software like Linux produced by thousands of developers, or a freeware game made in an afternoon. It might be “free” and supported by ads (like those mods), or “free” and funded by a deep-pocketed patron who benefits from it (like Google Chrome).

Paid software isn’t much better. Despite the revolution brought by app stores (Steam and iOS in particular), the pay-up-front model still encourages developers to concentrate on a flashy big release with lots of features. Bug fixes and UX improvements are appreciated by users, but those users aren’t paying anything extra to get them.

In general, though, there’s a developer who has to choose between building your app and working on something else. Whether you’re waiting for a bug fix that keeps Kafka from paging you at 3am, or an update that adds reentry heating to Kerbal Space Program, you might find yourself wanting to shovel a little extra money in that developer’s direction to help them choose.

From the developer’s side, the ideal business model would be to give away the software to as many people as possible, then pick out the ones who can’t live without it and charge them as much as they’re willing to pay, monthly if they’ll put up with it.

Enter Patreon

Patreon was created in 2013 by Jack Conte, a musician who wanted to get his videos in front of as many people as possible. Jack didn’t like the two choices available to pay for them: YouTube advertising and iTunes. He was tempted to try crowdfunding, but couldn’t imagine running a new Kickstarter campaign for every new video just to cover a few hundred dollars.

Patreon works a lot like Kickstarter, but it’s progressive and recurring: Someone who loves Jack’s videos and wants him to make more can go to his Patreon page and pledge $1 toward the next video, which carries over to each video after that. Jack can then see how much patrons have pledged for the next video, whether $3 or $3000, and budget accordingly. When the video is done, Jack distributes it for free (to everyone, not just backers) and finds new people who love the video enough to kick in another dollar.

Patreon is new, but it’s already working well for both big and small projects. It provides recurring income to the artist, and a direct connection to the patrons. The patrons are paying a small amount for each release ($1 isn’t uncommon), but they can easily see how their pledges add up to give the project a decent budget. In some cases, artists have already dropped advertising because it annoys patrons who are kicking in enough to offset the income.

The key to Patreon’s model is that it encourages frequent releases of art made with the patrons in mind. When Jack is deciding whether a new video is worth doing, he has two natural questions to ask: “Will my patrons think this is worth the $1 they pledged?” and  ”Am I willing to give up that patron money if I don’t do this?” The result is a regular cadence of good art.

Patreon is ready for free software as-is

If you’ve worked with an open-source software project, this might sound familiar to you. There might be lots of people waiting on new releases that fix bugs or add crucial features, but there are only so many spare hours in the day to work on them. A steady stream of patron dollars might encourage developers to work on their free software projects rather than take a contract job or start a new app for the App Store.

Patreon is neutral about the kinds of projects it accepts, so a developer could theoretically set up a Patreon page and start accepting backers right now. Each time an update is released, instead of linking to Youtube the developer would link to the update on GitHub or RubyGems or wherever they normally would.

Links back to Patreon could be added to the project’s README or changelog, or better yet mentioned on feature requests and when closing bugs. After a while, I imagine the relationship between backers and good releases would become plain in both directions: If you want better software, pledge more. If you want us to give more, make real improvements more often.

Frequent updates make better software

As a side benefit, the Patreon model would support the agile software development model. Each iteration (a short development cycle, usually with a fixed time) is judged on whether a notable improvement was shipped to customers, and patrons would be more likely to pledge based on the same metric. Bug fixes can be as valuable to existing users as new features, so there would be a strong business case for fixing bugs and making UX improvements each sprint that otherwise wouldn’t get on the roadmap.

Semantic versioning might see a surge in use, too. Rather than bundling flashy new features into big releases that justify re-purchasing software, the Patreon model would reward regular, repeated progress. Without a monetary reason to treat a point release as a major version (cough Twitterbot 3 cough), the field might be clear to set version numbers based on API compatibility.

Build funding into project sites

The obvious next step would be to create a patron-funding site specifically for software projects. GitHub is already a great community for describing, delivering, and collaborating on open-source software. Integrating patron funding would probably be straightforward. The same could be said of RubyGems or any other site that keeps track of version releases, too.

The tricky part, though, is getting the balance right; Patreon and Kickstarter have both done a great job (and put in some serious UX and community work) distinguishing “backers” and “pledges” from “donors” and “tips”, which seems to make all the difference. Software-patronage sites would have to work to connect the money pledged to real and regularly-delivered improvements to the software.

Still, I hope this model gets adopted by software projects sooner rather than later. I’d love to pay for updates to an amazing Minecraft mod by kicking in a dollar instead of dodging sketchy ads. Wouldn’t you?