SEPT 24 — Amidst all the cheery Raya greetings, general moans about the Twitterification of the quintessential Hari Raya wish to "SHRMZB" and endless pictures of Eid fare from all corners of the globe, popped up this interesting quip, apparently from an acquaintance's Dad:
"Dulu kalau orang ramai berkumpul tapi senyap, orang kata malaikat lalu — sekarang sebab semua mengadap handphone masing-masing." (In those days, when a group of people congregated but were silent, people used to joke that it was because an angel passed by. These days, it's because everyone is on their mobile phones.)
The ubiquity of the mobile phone —and, of late, the smartphone — has finally dawned upon my father's generation. And, I think, this is much to their despair. Was it only half a decade ago that only serious corporate types and aspiring presidential candidates needed to be "always connected", slaves to those scurrying for tidbits of their time? Perhaps it was, perhaps even more recent.
I am of the generation that has seen major leaps in the timing of communication. Post-SPM in 1994 I was still writing letters; into my third year at university queueing at the post office to buy stamps turned into queueing at the computer lab for a turn on the only two computers on campus with an Internet connection. Internet Relay Chat broke down geographical barriers in friendship, and webcams and Skype allowed for not only video calling but free video calling during my post-graduate years.
(*Yes, I am aware I omitted fax machines among other things. But fax machines never transcended into the home, being more of an office thing.)
And as I finally graduated into employment, 3G connectivity meant the Internet was always on for those with an appropriate device. These days even writing emails has given way to instant messaging applications such as the Blackberry messenger or WhatsApp.
Considering that the written word was couriered to locations from as far back as the days of Achilles to as recent as 30 years ago... I'd understand if the email is a bit miffed at its limited minutes of fame.
What has accelerated the demand for constant connectivity, I would argue, are the "apps" that are connecting us, allowing interaction without the rather pesky limitation of the lack of mutual geographic presence. Facebook and Twitter — two of the main "culprits" — are key events of the Noughties themselves, and should we be surprised?
The beauty of all of this, of course, is the breaking down of barriers. If on Facebook, reunions with those you haven't seen for years (sometimes, you realise after deleting an old friend for being a Perkasa member, there was a reason for the enforced absence!) does away with the barriers of time and distance, Twitter allows controlled communication with selective interaction.
I quite like the way Twitter works because it allows the average marhaens like me to engage with people of more "social worth." While Facebook provides a safe space for interaction between only those you know, on Twitter people can follow you without ever requiring an obligation for you to "follow" them back.
Celebrities, politicians and people of certain importance have jumped at this opportunity for one-way communication with much mirth — and they seem to have put it to good use, too.
An ardent reader of sporting history, one lament I always read in the memoirs of sports writers is the lack of approachability of modern sporting heroes. If, in days of old, journalists would share aeroplanes with the sports teams they were covering, these days an interview is a carefully negotiated interaction involving layers of officialdom and agent machineering.
I always thought this had a somewhat direct correlation with the increased market values of said sporting stars, which fuelled their egos and sense of self worth. But after following the Twittter feeds of major sporting stars such as Rio Ferdinand, Joey Barton and Michael Owen, their interaction with the fans (and these two sports stars do interact as well as have an active timeline) sheds part of their external shell and public face.
Barton is definitely worth an "add" by the way — with philosophical musings and an uncanny viewpoint, this is one side of the bad boy footballer you have to see. Today, apparently, he had his first kosher meal..
Twitter statements are now also seen to be "official" — how many times have you read news articles lately that quote directly from the Twitter feed of celebrities and other people of certain importance? I gather that as this gathers more momentum, the sheer veneer of approachability will crumble and we will be back to the ways of old.
But until that moment comes, perhaps savour the knowledge that even benched footballing centrebacks (and England stars) get annoyed with a toothache and they too are unable to command an immediate appointment with the local dentist.
The downside of this increased visibility, of course, is the Internet equivalent of watching where you tread; or in other words, being careful with what you type. The unassuming nature of interacting in spaces such as Twitter gives an illusion that we are among friends — but only around the corner lurks the acquaintance who doesn't quite get your inside jokes, and is ready to misinterpret banter meant for a select few.
Your Internet presence is more and more taking the mantle of defining your personality — as behavioural economist Dan Ariely argues, we want our Facebook walls to reflect who we are, acting as "a storefront window to our self." Think about it... when was the last time you edited your list of favourite movies before approving the friend request of the guy you have quite a secret crush on?
On a more serious note, beyond stalking celebrities, this year Twitter and Facebook gained a legitimacy beyond its usual realm of pop culture. While the thrust of the Internet as a means of reaching out is not something new — denied public space in the mainstream media, Malaysian opposition parties were first in adapting their campaigns to make full use of the unregulated Internet — Twitter, Facebook and real-time chat applications played key roles in the Arab Spring uprisings and the London riots this year, moving it into the more serious arena of power and politics.
Lauded as the impetus behind the wave of protests in the Middle East and a main player in the ousting of Hosni Mobarak in Egypt, there was a sense of bittersweet irony (is irony anything but bittersweet?) when British politicians demanded that the Internet be "shut down" for a while to stem the spreading of the riots in England — the very thing Mobarak was criticised for doing in January 2011.
I also recall Western criticism of the UAE's intent to ban the Blackberry for its highly encrypted messaging service which did not allow the government to access discussions made via it — only for the West to consider tapping into these exact same resources when civil unrest hit recently.
These British politicians argued that their point of view differed as their call was for the greater good; but in what sense did the UAE or Mobarak not perhaps believe that their calls, too, was for the greater good as they saw it? Walk a mile in a despot's shoes... and be scared that they may fit.
The common wisdom with respect to these things is that at the end of the day, they are just tools after all — and you make the choice whether they are to be used as a force for good or bad. What is slightly murkier, however, is how you define what is good, what is bad and what evils are necessary or otherwise. And for that, there is perhaps no wisdom to be begotten, common or otherwise.
* The writer is very proud of the fact that she wrote an article about Twitter and Facebook without ever once using the phrase "social networking". Except just now, but that was to make a point.
* The views expressed here are the personal opinion of the columnist.