The Triumph of the Default, and Imagination
I finished Shirky's Cognitive Surplus recently, just before signing up to Fosstodon. I hadn't even heard of Mastodon before that. (Cory Doctorow, and his pointer to the work of deconstructing Plandemic, brought me to La Quadrature du Net and the rest is history.) Its default of private toots caught me off-guard.
Shirky suggests that new social systems should open by default. He quotes Kevin Kelly, the title of whose essay I used to head this post, saying that “engineers can influence the behaviour of their users.” From Kelly:
Therefore the privilege of establishing what value the default is set at is an act of power and influence. Defaults are a tool not only for individuals to tame choices, but for systems designers — those who set the presets — to steer the system. The architecture of these choices can profoundly shape the culture of that system's use.
Later, Shirky continues: under Improving the Odds [for new social systems], one section is Default to Social. “... [T]he careful use of defaults can shape how users behave, because they communicate some expectation... [that] has to be one the users are happy to follow...”
I can already see that Fosstodon is a community that values privacy. I suspect this default is broadly popular. Is it the default for all Mastodon instances? If so, it's an interesting choice.
A slower day. Running around on the green near our house. Family Zoom. Play-doh in the garden. And now, a few cans of Guinness.
It's extraordinary, to see how Abby's coming along, in this, her 13th month. Henry — steaming up on 3½ — at this age is vague memory: I had so much more on my mind at the time, clearly. Abby is cruising lightning, days from her first independent steps, I'm sure; little wonder, the way she idolises her brother.
Henry's stories become more elaborate every week. I enjoy being a fly on the wall. If he notices me, I'm required to react to the current drama; and with the smallest nudge, he's off, on ever-more-intricate plans and downfalls.
He has not asked about nursery. Not once. It worries me a bit, but my psychotherapist assures me that it's perfectly healthy at this age. I've sure enjoyed his cuddles today.
I hope they both find a way to preserve this seed of happiness — that we've welcomed to take over the garden of our lives right now — through their growing. My imagination was an escape from what I wasn't able to face; I hope his (and, soon, hers) continue to be the dalliance, the pure joy, that it clearly is now.
End of Day 8
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